#I'll be honest with you this is probably the first of a Lot of posts about ghost science & history

[isekyaaa]

To be honest, I think the thing about wanting to be liked by people, but not getting the validation you'd like about being a likeable person is like... people assume that people should like them for who they are. And when faced with this dilemma is that most people go in two opposite directions. They either stick adherently to the person they believe themselves to be or they change themselves into what they assume is the person most people would like.

The truth of the matter is that neither of these routes will get people to the place they want to go. When you stick to the first route, you become inherently self-absorbed. You show no consideration to the feelings and thoughts the people around you, what they are and are not comfortable with, etc. If you go the second route, you essentially become a robot following a preprogrammed path and responding in a preprogrammed way. Nothing you say is truly you.

I'm not going to say there is a magic formula to being the most likable, but the more you stray to the edges, the more conventionally unlikable you'll become.

I think the most difficult thing here for people is that the key to finding a good middle ground is confidence. It is only through confidence in yourself as a person that'll help you to stick to what your beliefs when you differ from others, but also being able to relax such convictions when there's no need for them.

Taking a chance by taking a step in the opposite direction of where you currently stand is scary. But you will never get anywhere if you stand still. All journeys start with the first step, as they say. But there's no rush. Everyone has the right to go about it slowly. But it will be worth it.

[joelsgoldrush]

“GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE” | 10k

logan howlett x fem!reader

part 2 of “GUILTY PLEASURE”

"Your hungry flirt borders intrusion / And I'm building memories on things we have not said / Full is not heavy as empty, not nearly, my love / Give me the first taste / Let it begin, heaven cannot wait forever / Darling, just start start the chase, I'll let you win." The First Taste by Fiona Apple

SUMMARY: From the moment you first laid eyes on Logan, you knew he was a tough nut to crack. But if there’s one thing you love, it’s a challenge. As your relationship grows, you’re determined to show him that, in this universe, he can also be loved.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, age-gap (reader is 25), once again wade saves the day, domestic!logan, soft dom!logan, logan calls reader “kid”, they watch (500) days of summer, oral sex (f and m receiving), fingering, thigh riding, thumb sucking, throat fucking, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, creampie (i would say i’m sorry but i’d be lying)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: jeez. hi guys!!! hope you’re doing alright. this is the 2nd part to “guilty pleasure.” writing for these two has been a total rollercoaster, but god was it worth it. as i always tell you, english isn’t my first language, so if you come across any mistake and you feel like letting me know, there’s no problem. thank you so much for all the support you’ve been giving my posts. i’m happy strangers out there take the time to read my silly stories :)

A girl and a mutant walk into an apartment…

Actually, you’re still trying to come up with the rest of the joke. But one thing’s true: Logan’s about to set foot in your place.

You curse under your breath, putting both your hands to work as you struggle to open the door. “Fucking swollen wood. I hate humidity,” you mutter, glancing back at Logan, who frowns as you keep trying different maneuvers to get the door to function properly.

It’s a shitty situation overall. And having that gorgeous man practically glued to your back isn’t helping in any way. You can tell he wants to give you a hand, but you’re not having it—women in STEM or something of the sort.

“May I—” he starts, though you cut him off before he can finish.

“I’ve got this. Just need to—” you say, ramming your shoulder into the door with enough force to make it finally give away. Almost stumbling over the carpet but managing to catch yourself, you sigh in relief. Meanwhile, Logan stands still, scrutinizing you until you gesture for him to enter. “Welcome to the smallest apartment in New York City. It's nothing fancy, but it’s got everything you need for a comfortable stay on a budget. Make yourself at home!”

Logan narrows his eyes, the tiniest smirk playing on his lips before stepping inside. Each of his movements seems to be premeditated as he tosses his jacket onto the couch, surveying the room. A portrait of when you were a kid, probably six or seven years old, catches his attention. He tilts his head, picking up the picture to examine it more closely, and then flashes you a lopsided grin. “How cute.”

“Well, I’ve changed a lot,” you take the picture from his hands, returning it to the shelf where he had gotten it from. 

“Well,” he echoes, mocking your tone, “your beauty certainly hasn’t.”

His eyes bore into you as you meet his gaze. What amazes you most is that he’s being completely honest. In a heartbeat, you look away, wondering what’s gotten into you. Usually, you’re not this awkward—you’ve learned how to take compliments over the years, knowing how to smile just right, to flutter your eyelashes. To blush and giggle in command. Those were the tools that helped you to survive countless first dates—your dearest aces up your sleeve.

There’s no use denying that they remained just that: first, failed dates. You hope you never have to go back to dating apps after this.

“Are you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving,” you say, trying to walk away from him, although he’s faster, catching your hand in his. 

“Hey,” he urges you to make eye contact with him, his voice perplexingly soft. “Is everything okay?”

You nod so vigorously that you nearly strain your neck. “I’m fine, I swear. I just never get past this point.”

Inching closer, he presses his lips together for a split second, his brows furrowing in confusion. “You lost me there.”

“Guys who come into my apartment don’t tend to call back,” you admit, a flush creeping up your face, cheeks getting hotter. “I happen to believe it’s a curse, though I’ve kissed, like, a hundred toads so far and it still won’t break.”

“So y’think you’re gonna scare me off,” he raises an eyebrow, grinning. His rough fingers become gentle as they tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s sweet. Should be the other way around.”

Wow. You two are a match made in heaven.

As you detach yourself from his embrace and head to the kitchen, you decide to look for something edible in the fridge, finding different trays of food from days ago, none of which look appetizing or suitable for feeding the Tin Woodman standing behind you.

All of a sudden, the unmistakable metallic sound of Logan’s claws unsheathing rings in your ears, forcing you to spin around. The image that unfolds before you is peculiar, to say the least: he’s cornering your cat against the door.

Why is he about to fight a cat?

“Please don’t kill him?” you take a step in his direction and scoop the little ball of white fur into your arms. Logan stares at both of you, eyes squinted and brows knitted. “I’m sure he’s the cutest feline you’ve ever seen. Have mercy on him.”

“I didn’t know you had a cat.”

“Earnest wasn’t aware of your existence either,” you reply, scratching along the animal’s back. He purrs beside your neck, his yellowish eyes never leaving Logan’s. “Earnest, this is Logan. He has claws just like you.”

“Don’t you dare compare me to that,” Logan warns you, retracting his claws with a sigh. You can’t help but wonder if he ever feels tranquil, at peace. “Y’know, you’ve doomed him to bad fortune with that name. Is he at least toilet trained?”

“Are you hating on The Importance of Being Earnest?” you ask, expecting a retort, though apparently the play’s title doesn’t ring a bell for him. “Oscar Wilde?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, kid?”

Now’s your time to roll your eyes, setting the cat down and letting it run away. He likes to hide in the bathroom—don’t ask why, because not even you know the answer to that. You flick your gaze up back to Logan, placing your hands on your hips. “See, you gave him trust issues.”

“He’ll survive. Don’t they have seven lives?”

This is the perfect conversation to have with someone who just ate you out thirty minutes ago: how many lives do cats have. Jesus.

At some point, Logan flops onto the couch, stretching out. You shudder as you hear him crack his neck, the popping sound getting on your nerves. He pats the empty side of the sofa, spreading his thighs until he’s almost taking up all the space. “Come here.”

Putting aside all your thoughts, you accept the invitation. You sit down, motionless, and his arm grazes the cushion behind your head, pulling you closer to him. You rest your cheek on his chest, letting out a deep sigh, one that you’ve been holding in since you got to the apartment. Is it possible that he knows you craved this? This proximity, this kind of affection. To be held—it’s been your only wish for months. He drums his fingers on your shoulder blades, then starts rubbing your back ever so lightly.

Far from dozing off, you feel alive.

It’s hard not to lose track of time and space when you find yourself immersed in the warmth he offers, and that’s when you realize how deeply you’re falling for this man. “Logan?” the mere thought of asking him what’s been on your mind terrifies you. The last thing you want is to ruin things—or whatever it is that you have. He hums, a low, heavy sound in his throat, indicating you to continue. “I have a question.”

“Ask away.”

You lift your face from his chest and look him in the eye. The city’s still alive outside, with music and chatter sneaking in through the window. Everything seems to be perfect, and you wish you could stay like this—just staring at him as if he were a painting in a museum, and you the critic who can’t stop writing articles about its beauty.

Okay, that was… weirdly specific. 

Logan tries to hide his smile as you peck his lips repeatedly. For a moment, you almost forget what you were going to ask him in the first place. But then he’s ready to listen, and you a wave of nausea washes over you.

“I know that we came here to… engage in adult practices.”

“Fucking, you mean.”

“I didn’t want to be that straightforward, but yeah,” you say, shaking your head as to rearrange your thoughts. “Would you mind if we stayed like this?” to emphasize your point, you kick your shoes off and put your legs on top of his lap. He observes the whole sequence without daring to utter a word. “Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to try that too. I truly do. But… right now, all I want is to cuddle,” he’s still silent, making you even more nervous. “I’m sorry. Is that okay with you?”

His whole body engulfs yours, your cheek coming to rest once again in its original position. You can feel the rhythmic beating of his heart, each breath he takes, the air he exhales dampening your nape. Logan peppers your neck with chaste kisses before pressing his lips to your temple. His voice comes out strained, partially muffled by your hair. “Who do you take me for, huh?” he’s right there, beside your ear, fucking everywhere. There isn’t a single centimeter of your exposed skin that he isn’t touching, marking as his. You don’t give him an answer, in part because you’re unsure of what to say. He takes your silence as a cue to keep talking. “Let me take you to bed.”

“I can walk on my own.”

“I know,” he mutters, standing up with you in his arms, one arm beneath your knees and the other one under your shoulders. Logan’s not used to being this cautious, this patient with someone he’s known for less than two weeks. You see it in his eyes when he lets his guard down—something that has cracked, a shell that’s been broken.

As he places you gently on top of the covers, he lingers for a moment, crouching beside the bed and searching for your lowered gaze. His fingers are warm as he tilts your chin up. “I didn’t come here just to have sex with you. That was a possibility, of course—but it’s not the main reason why I’m here,” he rasps, words accompanied by the light brush of his lips against yours for a quick, brief kiss. “I care about you. A lot. I’m fine with whatever we do as long as I get to be close to you,” he grabs your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. He then goes back to his usual bossy self, his demeanor changing. “And I don’t want to hear you apologizing for not wanting to have sex ever again. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you’re making jokes?”

“I can’t have serious conversations,” you confess, observing the look of pure confusion on his face. “It’s true. I once spoke at a funeral and they cut me off forty seconds into my speech.”

Logan laughs at your sudden confession, his eyes crinkling at the edges. Rising to his feet, he begins to unbutton his flannel, pausing after the first few buttons are undone, waiting for your approval. “Do you want me to stay tonight?” 

“If that’s what you want.”

“It is what I want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

His words don’t hide any real threat—that you know.

You stifle your laughter, shedding your clothes. Instead of going to the bathroom to change, you toss your work clothes carelessly to the floor, opting for an old pair of pajamas that are the complete opposite of sexy. They surely have seen better days.

Logan’s eyes trail over you, taking his time to analyze the faded lettering on your wrinkled shirt. “Keep calm and eat pizza?” he reads aloud.

“Hey. I bought it when I was seventeen.”

“You could use a new wardrobe.”

“Well, what about you?” you tease, toying with his belt. “You’re gonna sleep like this in my bed?”

“Can’t wait for me to get my shirt off, huh?” he grins, that all-too-familiar smile on his lips.

You play along, folding your arms over your chest. “You think so highly of yourself.”

Without breaking eye contact, Logan unbuckles his jeans, letting them pool around his ankles. He then shrugs off his flannel, leaving him in just his briefs and vest. You scan his body, and the room suddenly feels a hundred degrees hotter, the air between you thickening. Logan notices your reaction, chuckling. “Don’t get too excited. This is all you’re getting today.”

“I think I’ve already heard that before.”

“Kid.”

You raise your hands in surrender, showing him your palms and mouthing ’sorry’. Approaching your bed, you pull back the covers and slip into it. When you see Logan still standing there, you frown. “Where are your manners? Come here. I’m very impatient.”

He grumbles something under his breath, but he doesn’t make you wait long. He proceeds to get under the sheets beside you, occupying that side of the bed that’s always been empty. As you both settle in, facing each other, you can’t help but giggle, your contagious laugh getting to him. “What now?”

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper, tracing the bridge of his nose with your index finger, a featherlight touch that has him closing his eyes. In the soft glow of the night, with the city’s distant sounds filtering in, he looks breathtaking. “I mean it.”

“Do you have an off switch?”

“I’m… not sure. Let’s find out tomorrow.”

“You need to sleep,” he pulls you onto his chest with firm but gentle hands. He intertwines his legs with yours, holding you close.

“Wait. I have a game to play.”

“It’s late.”

“Please?”

He sighs. “Okay.”

“We have to make confessions until we fall asleep.” 

“You just want to talk—that doesn’t even qualify as a game.”

“It does in this universe,” you reply, feeling his chest rumble with a chuckle as you settle more comfortably against him. “I’ll start: remember the first night you came to the bar?” he hums in acknowledgment. “It wasn’t Burger Night. We don’t serve food. I just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

He kisses the top of your head, his arms tightening around you. “I knew. You don’t have a kitchen down there, baby,” he falls silent, taking his time to come up with a confession of his own. “I have a fear of flying.”

“Really? You, of all people?”

“I wasn’t expecting to be judged.”

“Oh, don’t be such a crybaby,” you tease, burying your face further into the crook of his shoulder, inhaling his scent. He shivers slightly where your nose touches his skin. “I like you. It’s kind of scary, and I’m sure saying something like this probably goes against the rules of dating 101, but I do. I feel safe with you, like—like this is where I’m supposed to be.”

Almost as if the pieces of the puzzle finally fit together, you think to yourself, though the words stay unspoken.

You’ve come to learn that Logan’s not a man of many words—he’s more of the “show, don’t tell” kind of guy. So when he makes you lift your face, you’re not surprised by the way he kisses you: hungrily. Passionately, like a starved man at an all-you-can-eat buffet. A soft whimper gets lost somewhere in your throat as his tongue makes its way into your mouth, languidly stroking yours.

“We didn’t brush our teeth,” you whisper against his lips, laughing when he groans in exasperation.

“You love having the final say, don’t you?”

“I’m being serious, Logan. Cavities are a real issue for me.”

“You can always get new teeth.”

“But my morning breath—”

“It’ll stink anyway, and so will mine,” he responds, taking a deep breath and clearing his throat once he settles into his ideal sleep position. “Good night.”

“Night,” you murmur, nuzzling your cheek against his neck. Despite your efforts to ignore it, being cradled like this feels incredible. You can’t believe you went twenty-five years without it.

Just as you’re about to drift off, curiosity strikes. “Can you get tattoos?”

“Bub, I was actually falling asleep.”

“Oh, okay. Sorry,” you mumble, feeling a bit sheepish.

More silence.

“Logan?”

“Hmm?”

“What was the Great Depression like?”

“Fuck me,” he mutters, his voice gruff as he shifts lightly. “It was fine. Now go to sleep.”

And you do, but not for long. An abrupt coldness wakes you up, eyes wide open, feeling disoriented. It’s still pitch black outside, far quieter than when you first fell asleep. The clock on your nightstand reads it’s 3:17 am, though it feels like you’ve only been in bed for five minutes.

Then you see him—he’s twitching in his sleep on the far side of the bed, his painful grunts reaching your ears. Most of what he says is unintelligible, but there’s one word he keeps repeating over and over again without fail: “No.”

You don’t usually have nightmares. What’s the best way to wake someone from one? You’re still thinking when he starts mumbling again, his voice thick with distress, and now he’s throwing his arms in the air as if he were fighting off something—or someone—in his dreams.

Pressing your hands to his cheeks, you attempt to hold his face steady. He clenches his fists, his breath quickening the more he battles whatever’s haunting him. “Logan,” you whisper at first, subtly shaking his shoulders, but his eyebrows stay furrowed, deep in his nightmare. This time, you tighten your grip, fully sitting on top of him. “Logan. Logan! Wake up!”

Without warning, you’re on your back, pinned against the mattress. Logan’s straddling your hips, caging you in with his body, the weight of his adamantium skeleton pressing down. Your hands are trapped beneath his, and you watch as he clenches his jaw, teeth bared in a way that looks painful. His eyes are so dark and wild you barely recognize him, prominent veins throbbing in his neck with each labored breath he takes.

“Logan,” your own voice sounds unnatural, forced, as you do your best to bring him back to reality. “It’s me. You’re alright.”

That seems to get through him. Logan stares at you in disbelief, his eyes softening as they take in your terrified expression. He abruptly pulls away, retreating to the nearest wall. He’s gasping for air, slamming his eyes shut, his legs trembling. The only sound you can hear is his rapid breathing. You get up from the bed, taking a step in his direction, but you don’t manage to go any further since he stops you with a shout.

“Stay right there!” he’s growling, pointing his finger at you. “I’m serious. Don’t come any closer.”

“Logan…”

“Please, no!” his voice increases in pitch, not being able to meet your eyes. “Please. Just stay there.”

You comply, not wanting to upset him any further. Sitting back on your knees, you try to appear calm. A man so strong, capable of things you can’t even understand. A weapon turned against himself now stands before you, pushing you away as if his presence were poisonous. He slumps to the floor, the fabric of his vest soaked with sweat.

Once he’s fully conscious, you cautiously crawl toward him, watching his every move. On a random day, this might have been funny for both of you, but right now, there’s no room for laughter. Logan shakes his head, his shoulders tensing when you reach out to hug him, wrapping your arms around his broad frame. It takes him a couple of minutes, but eventually, his body sags against yours. For a while, neither of you speaks. You just thread your fingers through his hair, hoping the closeness will help soothe him. “Feeling better?” you whisper in the shell of his ear, and he pulls back to look you in the eye. You caress his cheek, his stubble rough against your skin. “Welcome back.”

“I’m sorry,” it’s the first thing he says, covering your hand with his. One by one, he kisses your knuckles, still shaking his head. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“You had a nightmare—it’s not like you could control it.”

“But I could’ve hurt you,” he says, lowering his gaze to your wrists, where his fingerprints have left their mark. “God. I’m so sorry. I have to go.”

“Wait!” you grab his arm, your mouth setting in a hard line, stopping him from leaving. “Don’t run away from me, not now. Don’t push me away, Logan.”

“I could’ve done something much worse.”

“But you didn’t. It was a nightmare, baby. You didn’t know,” you kiss his forehead, hoping to talk some sense into him. “Please, stay. Let’s try to get some more sleep.”

“What if—”

You hold his face close to yours, your noses brushing. “You won’t hurt me.” 

This time, he lets you keep him close, the roles now reversed. You can see him fighting his exhaustion, not wanting to fall asleep. But the more you play with his hair, the harder it is for him to stay awake.

“I’m alright,” he says, seemingly reading your mind. It’s hard to tell whether he’s reassuring you or himself.

“I know,” you knead his shoulder, aiming to ease the tension knotted there. “You better sleep, or I might start rambling again.”

A faint, tired hum escapes him, at long last allowing his eyes to close. “I like hearing you talk,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your collarbone, drifting off soon after that.

You continue to hug him, feeling the weight of his body gradually relax against yours as his breathing evens out. The room is quiet, but your mind is far from it: a tornado of emotions swirls within you—concern, relief, love, and something else you can’t quite decipher. It isn’t until sleep finally claims you too that your brain stops going a hundred kilometers an hour.

The most surreal Sunday night of your whole life.

“So… when will you let me see Lolo again?”

Wade’s question makes you stop mid-pour, flicking your eyes between the drink and him. A few seats away, you hand a glass to Adam. Returning to where Wade’s currently sitting, you dry your hands on your apron. “Why are you even here?” you ask, raising an eyebrow, and he gives half a shrug. “Last time I checked, I wasn’t holding him against his will.”

“He’s been crashing at your place almost every night. You have your own methods, woman,” he raises one finger, then quickly adds another, pointing at your shirt. “Two methods, in fact.”

At that, you laugh mirthlessly, shaking your head with a grin. “I’m surprised anyone would willingly date you.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he retorts, taking a tentative sip of his beer and leaning back in his chair.

You glance at him while you wipe down the bar, looking for something to occupy your hands. “He’s not my boyfriend—yet.”

Wade mimics a punch in his chest, just where his heart’s supposed to be, though you’re starting to question whether he has one. His lips form a small, exaggerated pout. “That must hurt, doll. You got yourself into a situationship with a goddamn fossil. Good luck getting out of that.”

“It’s not that bad,” you say, rolling your eyes. “We’re cool this way. There’s absolutely no need for a title.”

“Okay, let’s rehearse that one more time because you look like you’re about to cry,” he lifts an eyebrow, drawing nearer. “You want the title, right?”

“I don’t.”

He props his chin on his hand, laughing at you. “Yes, you do. You can’t fool me.”

“I said I don’t.”

“I said I don’t,” he mocks you, kicking his legs and puckering his lips.

You can’t help but throw the towel down on the counter with irritation, giving in. “Okay! Of course, I want the fucking title.”

“There she is!” he exclaims, throwing his hands up in a triumphant gesture. “Glad we’re speaking the truth now,” he tilts his head to the side, noticing your sudden silence. “Hey, drop the long face. I’m sure he’s been thinking about it. In order to understand Logan, I usually compare him to elders over ninety.”

“Why would you do that?” you ask, your tone a mix of mild annoyance and curiosity.

“Just think about it! Senior citizens didn’t date for too long in the past. They’d go straight from strangers to lovers. Take my grandparents, for example: in the span of one year, they met at a party, then got married, and had five kids. Do you really want to have a litter of Logan’s grumpy, hairy puppies?”

“Wade, that’s not even possible.”

“The point is,” he continues, finishing his beer and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “Logan’s rusty in this area, alright? I’d bet a thousand dollars he probably dated Cleopatra.”

“How did you pass History in high school?”

“I never graduated, but keep that between us,” he lifts his shoulders, shrugging. He spins the empty bottle, contemplating his next words. “You should tell him how you feel and what you want. That’s what works best for Vanessa and me. It’s easier that way—you can’t expect him to just guess.”

You wrap your arms around yourself. “I just wish he’d realize it on his own.”

“Well, sometimes you need to give the other person a bit of guidance. I’m just laying out the basics of a relationship here. Did your parents hate each other or something?”

The irony of it all. “They got divorced when I was little.” 

“Oh, god,” Wade sighs, rubbing his temples before glancing at you. “Let me get this straight: Mommy and Daddy weren’t exactly the poster children for love. And you also happen to be a bartender. Anything else, honey? Please tell me you’re at least getting laid, because otherwise, I’m going to feel tremendously sorry for you and your mental health.”

Just then, you hear your name being called. Smiling at Wade, you mumble: “Saved by the bell.” Once you’re back from taking some orders, Wade jumps to his feet, coming around the counter to hug you.

“Dude, what’s the matter with you?” you ask, loosely returning the hug. 

“You’re a fucking survivor,” he whispers in your ear, genuinely sounding concerned. “I don’t know how you do it—you seem so put together. I would’ve lost it by now. A life without sex sounds awful.”

“Jesus, Wade! Get off!” you stretch your arm to punch him in the back, earning a groan from him. “Back to your seat, gentleman. I certainly don’t need your pity.”

“I’m a certified sexologist. Your secret’s safe with me,” he declares with a smirk, gesturing to his empty beer. “But first, I’m gonna need more of this tasty apple juice.”

“I hope you’ve got some cash on you,” you say, getting him another beer. “Why do I get the feeling Logan would kill us if he knew we’re talking about this?”

“Isn’t that what makes it even better?”

Swaying on your feet, you scrunch your nose, momentarily lost in thought. “He won’t let me touch him. I don’t know if it’s me that does something wrong. We do have our… moments, but he takes care of himself. And usually in the bathroom.”

Wade goes white in front of you. “How long has this been going on?”

“Over a month.”

“Oh. That’s bad, like, really bad.”

“Thanks! I’ll be sleeping on the highway tonight. You can always join me.”

“Doll, it’s nothing that can’t be fixed, alright?” he waves his hand dismissively, then sets his palms flat on the counter. “I know I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but talking to him is your best bet. This isn’t something you can just brush under the carpet. You’re like a goddamn radio—put it to good use.”

Just as you’re about to reply, you spot Logan entering the bar. You raise a hand in greeting, waving at him. He meets your gaze and smiles briefly, and so your eyes drift to Wade’s, shooting him a warning look. “If you keep this to yourself, I won’t charge you for today,” you mutter through gritted teeth, to which he answers by pretending to zip his mouth closed.

Logan takes a seat next to him, ignoring his presence. Instead, he focuses entirely on you. “Hey, kid.”

“Hey, homey.”

“Hiya, Wade,” Wade greets himself with a mock cheer, patting his own back, which makes you laugh. He turns to Logan and his whole face lights up. “I’m afraid to tell you I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get your shit together.”

“You’re the worst roommate ever! Can’t believe you got yourself a girl and completely forgot about your bro,” Wade murmurs under his breath, just as his phone rings. “Thank God. I’ve got to go. My love nugget’s calling,” he announces, heading for the door. Before leaving, Wade blows the two of you a kiss. “I hate you both, but I also love you. Peace out, my friends!”

Logan and you exchange glances. “He’s a funny guy, isn’t he?”

“You could say that,” he replies, leaning in to kiss you on the lips. Logan intends to deepen the kiss, but you pull away after a couple of seconds. He frowns, clearly confused. “That’s how you greet me?”

You bite your lip, trying to suppress a giggle. “My tip jar is practically empty, and I hate to say it, but it’s your fault.”

“Do you want me to say I’m sorry?”

“Oh, no.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m not,” he plants a quick kiss on your cheek, making you smile. “You have classes tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, at 9 am,” you almost grunt, not feeling too enthusiastic about it. “I’m gonna need your help. I can’t sleep through my alarm, okay? The professor said tomorrow’s class is an important one. Midterms are right around the corner, and I can’t take the liberty of failing them.”

“That won’t happen,” he assures you, and you believe him. “I can be of help, don’t worry. You won’t oversleep.”

Oh, Logan. Sweet, lying Logan.

Turns out you ended up oversleeping. Twenty-five years on this earth, and you still haven’t learned not to trust a man, even if his puppy-dog eyes silently beg you to do otherwise. The thing is—you love them. You love men. And you’re especially fond of the one currently sleeping in your bed.

The first rays of sunshine hit your face, waking you up. You attempt to raise a hand to shield your eyes, but moving any limbs feels like a Herculean task. A warm body is pressed against your back, one veiny arm draped over your stomach. Logan remains fast asleep behind you, his steady breathing succeeding in making you feel at ease. You reach back, running your fingers through his messy hair, and he grumbles in his sleep, instinctively pulling you closer.

What a nice, domestic morning. Yep, you’re getting used to this. And nope, you don’t regret it, not even in the slightest bit.

Though there must be a mistake, because you’re preeeeetty sure you had something important to do. 

Oh. You have classes. Had—past tense.

You reach for your nightstand, blindly groping for your phone. The charger is lying on the floor, the plastic of it all damaged. Perhaps Earnest had chewed on it while you were sleeping? You gently pry Logan’s arm off you, sitting up, and your bleary eyes land on something barely peeking out from under the bed.

It’s your fucking phone. The screen is completely shattered, with three distinct holes in the middle of it. Three holes, how strange! You can’t help but wonder who might have left them. Clutching your pillow, you whack Logan in the face with it. “Rise and shine, Sleeping Beauty!”

He groans, trying to take the pillow away from you. “What the fuck is wrong with you, kid?”

“I wish I had a UNO reverse card because I should be the one asking you that!” you jab your finger into his chest, showing him the ruined phone. “You broke my fucking phone!”

“What?” he asks, voice laden with sleep, still disoriented. He holds the phone, carefully scrutinizing it. “I think I don’t know how to hit the snooze button.”

“No shit, Sherlock. I believe you’ve made that very clear,” you huff, tossing the phone aside as you flop back onto the mattress. The clock on your nightstand says 11:05 am, and you cover your face with your hands, taking a deep breath. “Next time, when it goes off, just wake me up and I’ll do it.”

Logan settles beside you, resting his head on his forearm as he watches you. “I’m sorry, bub. I’ll get you a new one.”

“It’s fine,” you murmur, sighing. This is your free ticket to be a menace. “I should’ve known dinosaurs and phones would never get along. My bad, pal.”

You don’t even get to see his reaction because he starts tickling you, the room filling with your laughter. Squealing, you try to wriggle away, but his fingers dig into your ribs, expertly finding your most ticklish spots. Your giggles escalate into breathless laughter, your eyes squeezed shut as you desperately attempt to push him away. He’s relentless, chuckling when his own laughter bubbles up. 

“L-logan, stop!” you gasp between fits of laughter, aiming to grasp his hands.

“We dinosaurs love tickling people. Sorry, sweetheart,” he manhandles you until you’re perched on his lap, fisting the fabric of your (his) shirt. Leaning forward, he captures your mouth in a heated kiss. “I’m sorry about the phone,” he slurs the words against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your neck. You tell him that it’s okay, trying to find a comfortable position on top of him, and that’s when his thigh presses against your core, your eyes widening at the unexpected sensation. Logan’s no fool, noticing the way your breath hitches. “What’s wrong, baby? You woke up needy?”

“No, I just—” you trail off as he does it again, his strong thigh coming in contact with your clothed cunt. You search for leverage by placing your hands on his shoulders, glancing at him. “Logan.”

“I’m all ears,” he rests his back against the headboard, the tent in his boxers impossible to ignore. “You want to get off on my thigh,” he states with certainty. It’s not a question—it’s a full-on statement. He knows what you want, what you crave. “Come on then. Grind against it.”

You do as he says, not caring to think twice. You start moving, rubbing your wet pussy against his muscular thigh. The friction sends jolts of pleasure through you, and soon, you’re whimpering his name, your hands trailing down his abs. Why hadn’t you tried this before? It feels fucking amazing.

From his position, Logan stares at you, his lips slightly parted, eyes clouded with lust. Your arousal drenches your panties, soaking through them, the fabric clinging to his coarse leg hair. He glances down at the mess you’re making, his grin widening as he takes in the sight. “Goddamn, woman. I’m gonna make you clean it off, I swear to God.”

“Need your help,” you whisper, lowering your head, the heat in your cheeks intensifying. The coil tightening inside you is almost unbearable. A kiss is what you lean in for, desperate for more, though Logan appears to have other plans. He fists your hair, pulling at your nape and yanking your head back. The roughness of the movement pulls a moan from your lips, your mouth parched like a desert. 

“Eyes up here, okay? You look at me when I make you come,” his raspy voice makes you feel tingly, each word sending shivers down your spine. His hands fiercely grab the flesh of your hips, guiding you, helping you grind harder against his thigh. You think you’re on the verge of drooling when you catch the way his abdomen flexes, working to push you toward that long-awaited release. “That’s it, there you go,” he rasps, relishing the sounds he’s eliciting from you, each of your gasps feeding his desire.

Time slows as the warmth in your belly finally erupts, your eyes fighting to stay open through the aftershocks of your orgasm. No actual words leave your mouth, just a string of whines and moans, some carrying Logan’s name. He swallows every single sound you make, everything you give him, grunting as your legs tremble and shake atop him.

He lets you collapse onto your back, your breathing gradually evening out. “I think I saw fireworks behind my lids,” you confess, your mouth dry, expecting Logan to flop onto the mattress beside you. But he doesn’t. Through your blurry vision, you contemplate as he positions himself between your parted legs, getting dangerously close to your cunt. “Logan, what are you— Oh, fuck,” you moan mid-sentence when you feel him pulling your panties aside to lick a slow strip through your folds, collecting your arousal. He points his tongue, dipping it into your entrance, and you wince, squirming. “Santa Claus, is that you?”

Logan grins against you, closing his mouth around clit for a moment. He then shifts until he’s eye-to-eye with you, two of his fingers sliding into you in one smooth motion. “Give me another one,” he murmurs, his other hand slipping under your shirt to play with your nipples, pinching them. 

You never imagined two fingers could bring such intense pleasure. You just lie there, taking it like a good girl, as Logan sometimes call you. “Please, I need you,” you cry out, your fingernails scraping against his torso.

“I know, darlin’. I’m right here,” he rasps against your temple, moving his fingers in and out of you with more enthusiasm. But what he doesn’t understand is that you need all of him. Your hands itch to touch him, to feel the weight of his cock. The corners of his mouth turn up as he watches you struggle to find words. “Wish you could see yourself like this. Such a pretty girl, so gorgeous like this,” his fingers keep grazing that bundle of joy deep inside you, and he goes in for a kiss, the sour taste of your slick invading your taste buds. “Tightest pussy I’ve ever had. Need to stretch you real good before fucking you with my cock.”

Bingo! That last sentence does it for you, and you come for the second time in the morning, your cunt clenching and spasming around his fingers. You hide your face in his neck, mouthing at his Adam’s apple. He hasn’t trimmed his beard in days, and it shows because you can now feel a burning sensation on the soft skin of your inner thighs.

“You’re allowed to break all my phones from now on,” you suggest, only to hear Logan’s laughter in your ear. He snakes a hand through your hair, shoving it back away from your face. You feel him kiss your sweaty forehead, and as you press yourself closer to his body, something hard nudges your hipbone.

Absentmindedly, you trace the waistband of his boxers with your index finger, your eyes snapping to his face. Logan freezes on the spot, and it’s almost as if he’s stopped breathing. Without a word, he rises from the bed, his movements sudden and almost mechanical. You watch him, puzzled, as he heads toward the bathroom, the intimacy of just moments ago being abruptly replaced by a dreadful silence.

“Logan, is everything okay? Do you need something?” you ask and he pauses at the bathroom door, his back to you. For a brief second, you think he might actually open up, but when he turns around, his expression is neutral, masking whatever thoughts are running through his mind. At last, he flashes you a quick smile.

“I’m fine,” he says, his tone gentle but distant. “Just gonna take a shower. Then we can have breakfast together, right?”

You nod, his words easing the growing sense of frustration gnawing at you. He disappears into the bathroom, and the sound of running water soon follows. You sink back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. You take your pillow and bury your face in it, letting out a muffled groan. There’s something he isn't telling you, something hidden deep beneath his usual gruff exterior. Although you try to piece together the fragments of his behavior, they don’t quite fit.

The minutes drag on, and the sound of the shower becomes a distant, constant background noise. You close your eyes, visualizing your happy place, but your thoughts keep spiraling. All you can do is wait—wait for him to come back and act as if nothing had happened.

Logan’s right there, just a few feet away—yet in moments like these, he feels miles apart. It’s one of those days in which, no matter how hard you try, you can’t seem to bridge that distance. 

It had all started with you asking Logan “Have you ever watched (500) Days of Summer?”

Of course, he had refused to watch the movie at first, and of course, you had threatened him with phoning Wade to let him know that Logan wanted to have a sleepover. That had done the trick.

You had asked for a day off at the bar, and surprisingly, your boss hadn’t objected. That turn of events led to this moment: sprawled out on the couch with Logan, the two of you watching the final minutes of your favorite film. Logan takes a long drag of his cigar, eyes trained intently on the screen. He’s only wearing sweatpants, which had caused your attention to drift from the plot a few times. The fact that you managed to sit through the entire movie without needing to pause it makes you feel particularly invincible.

Hey.

You again.

Yeah. I, uh, was just wondering if maybe after this, if, um, you— you want to get some coffee or something.

Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sort of supposed to meet someone after this.

Okay.

“That poor fella,” Logan murmurs, taking a slow sip of his beer. You look up at him from where your head rests on his lap, a contented smile playing on your lips. His fingers absently stroke your hair.

“Just wait,” you say, pointing to the screen of your laptop.

Sure.

What’s that?

Why not?

Okay. Well, then I’ll just, uh— I’ll wait for you.

We— we’ll figure it out.

We’ll figure it out.

“They’ll figure it out!” you exclaim, but Logan quickly shushes you, his attention unwavering.

My name’s Tom.

Nice to meet you. I’m Autumn.

When the movie comes to an end, you’re met with Joseph Gordon-Levitt breaking the fourth wall, staring straight at the audience as if he knows he’s about to get himself into a mess with another girl named after a season. You sit up, your eyes eagerly searching for Logan’s. “So? Did you like it? I’ve watched it seven times now. Can’t understand how it gets better each time.”

Logan closes his mouth around his cigar, inhaling deeply before answering. “Yeah, it was pretty good,” he says, his hand finding your cheek, thumb brushing softly against your skin. “Summer’s a bitch, though.”

“I respectfully disagree,” you tell him, grabbing his beer and giving it a try, only to grimace at the taste. Shuddering, you set it back down. “Why don’t you like her character?”

“Well, for starters, she did Tom dirty. Played with him like he was a damn rag doll.”

You raise an eyebrow, hugging a cushion closer to your chest as you lean back into the couch. “He knew from the beginning she didn’t want to be his girlfriend. Summer was clear—Tom just though he was smart enough to change her mind.”

“They acted like boyfriend and girlfriend the whole movie,” he scorns, placing his cigar down into the ashtray with a bit more force than necessary.

Is your first argument going to be over a movie? Exciting.

“Logan, they weren’t even official.”

“But she made it seem like they were,” he insists, the frustration in his voice growing.

“They were in a situationship—the perfect example, really. That’s not the same as being a couple.”

His gaze dips to the floor, brows knitted in a deep frown. “I think you’re relying on the technicality that they never used those titles. I mean, they did everything together. Isn’t that what normal couples do?”

Lord have mercy.

“Logan, who am I to you?” you inquire, crossing your arms over your chest.

He hesitates, narrowing his eyes, the question clearly catching him off guard. “You are—what? I don’t understand. Is this some kind of mind game you’re playing?”

“It’s actually very simple: if someone were to ask you about me, what would you say? Am I a friend? A bartender?” you inch forward, holding your breath, your tone faltering slightly. Meanwhile, Logan’s hands tighten into fists at his sides. “A fling? Your girlfriend? You complain so much about Summer, yet you can’t even name what we have.”

The living room falls into a heavy silence. Logan blinks slowly, his forehead creasing as he processes your words. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because these are the kinds of conversations we need to have. I understand you don’t want to have them, but I do.”

“Fine. Then tell me what it is that you want,” he asks, his mouth snapping shut when he sees you snorting in response.

“I don’t— I don’t know! To know how you feel, if possible?” you stand up from the couch, taking the cushion with you. You grind your jaw, gnawing on your bottom lip. “Why is it that every time I try to touch you, you push me away?”

He scrunches up his face, mirroring your movements and rising from his seat. “Bub, can we please talk about this tomorrow—”

“No! You don’t get to make all the choices, that’s not fair. Deciphering you isn’t easy, Logan. I’m not asking you to tell me everything you’ve been through. I just wish I could know how you feel about me. I can’t stand in front of you and pretend I don’t mind where this is going, because I’m more than sure I’m falling in love with you. “

“You can’t. You shouldn’t,” he says, his expression hardening. He turns his back to you, running his hands over his face in frustration before heading to the kitchen.

“Well, what were you expecting?” you follow him into the kitchen, finding Earnest on top of the fridge, beholding the scene with a curious gaze. “You basically moved in here, gave me a free trial of what life with you might be like, and now you have the audacity to appear surprised when I tell you I’ve caught feelings?” salty tears start rolling down your cheeks, and you spread your arms wide in exasperation. “Oh, but you’re right. How could I’ve been this stupid, to fall for the damned Wolverine!” you laugh bitterly, expecting him to break eye contact, but he doesn’t. “You think you’re so bad, so broken. Guess what: you’re not, because I love you, and I couldn’t care less about your past. You may think you’re unlovable, but you’re not, you hear me?”

For a heartbeat, the world seems to pause. And so he says:

“You are the most exasperating person I know.”

“Wow. Thank you so much!” you retort, your voice dripping with sarcasm. You run a hand through your hair, infuriated. “That makes me feel better!”

“Let me do the talking now,” he says, taking long strides toward you, and the proximity makes you lower your head. “You’re not getting the final say today. Just because I’m not over-sharing my feelings all the time doesn’t mean I don’t have them! In fact, I do. I may not express them openly, but they exist. And I wish you could see inside my head! You’d be delighted at how much time I spend thinking about you,” you cackle at his words, rolling your eyes. His fingers grip your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “There hasn’t been a single moment since the day we met that I have stopped wanting you. Your voice is like a goddamn radio that, no matter what I do, I can’t turn off. It’s like I’m infected by you, and I hate it!” his eyes burn with a mix of anger and affectionpur, his pursed lips softening as he continues. “No good ever comes from caring this much about someone. So excuse me for being scared of ruining the only good thing that’s happened to me in years!”

You hit him with the cushion—not with enough force to make him hurt, but enough to make a point.

“Drop it, kid.”

“I’m—” you hit him again, “not—” and again, “stupid. I know what I’m getting myself into,” as you attempt to raise the cushion once more, Logan takes it from your hands, throwing it on the counter. Your shoulders sag, trying to find the strength to keep going. “And I know for a fact,” you add, glancing at his conflicted eyes, “that the easiest thing for me would be to walk away from you, but I can’t. It’s too fucking late.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do! These are my feelings, okay? Mine, not yours. You don’t have the right to decide who I love and who I don’t.”

Logan’s eyes squint, scanning your face. “You’re… obnoxious.”

“Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”

“And I—I love you,” he confesses, his nostrils flaring with emotion. Opening your mouth to say something, you close it moments later, your gaze locked on his. “You could take what you said, pretend as if I didn’t exist, and I wouldn’t say a thing, y’understand? I would move cities if you asked me, because I love you that fucking much, and I want you to be happy.”

You reach for his hand, briefly intertwining your fingers with his. Looking at him through your eyelashes, you rub your fingers over his stubble. “And what if my happiness comes from being with you?”

Logan lets out a harsh breath, his arm curling around your waist, pressing his chest to yours. “I can’t promise I’ll be the perfect boyfriend. I’ll probably makeplenty of mistakes.”

“Fine with me.”

“And you’ll be mad at me. A lot.”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll make sure it’s mutual.”

Both of you laugh then, and you’re taken aback when he brushes his nose against your cheek, silently seeking permission to kiss you. His lips move hungrily against yours, trailing his hands down your spine, pulling you closer. He breaks the kiss and laughs at your eagerness when you chase after his mouth. You end up perched on his lap as he settles into one of your kitchen chairs. Logan stares into your eyes, his gaze drifting lower. “I won’t push you away this time. Not anymore.”

That’s your cue to finally do what you’ve been yearning for weeks. You fall to your knees in front of him, shaky fingers that graze the hairs on his happy trail. The bulge in his sweatpants is close to your face, and your mouth waters at the thought of having him between your lips. “Can I?” you ask, your voice a touch higher. 

He draws a long breath, tilting his head slightly. “You may, baby.”

You pull at his sweatpants and boxers, sliding them down his legs just enough to free his hard cock. As you take a look at it, you find yourself at a loss for words, the sight overwhelming. Nothing could’ve prepared you for the first taste of his precum as you envelop his head between your lips, that musky scent of his hitting you.

A whimper escapes you, and Logan hisses when you run your tongue along the slit, his hands gripping the back of your neck tightly. “Fuck, darlin’. Thought about your mouth so many times, but never imagined it’d feel this good,” he cants his hips up, causing your movements to stutter. “You can take a bit more, can’t you?” his question ends with a guttural grunt, his fingers tightening on your hair. “Gotta show me how much you want this.”

Logan takes all that you give him. You lower your head further, taking in another inch of him. Sex’s supposed to feel good, but this? It feels even greater. And he’s not even inside you yet, you hear a voice murmur in your head. The hand on your nape encourages you to move faster, and you sneak a hand between your bodies, grasping him by the base. You swallow around him, eyes fluttering open when he tugs sharply at your hair..

“Thaaaat’s it, honey. Just like that, want you to choke on it,” he grumbles, running his mouth just the way you like. The tip of his cock nudges the back of your throat and tears fill your eyes. You pull away to catch your breath, still stroking him as you regain composure. Logan’s gaze is intense, and he stares into your soul, his chest heaving. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? Dick got your tongue?”

You’ll definitely get back to that joke later.

“Will you—can you—”

“Come on, beautiful. I don’t have all day.”

God, you love it when he’s mean.

“Fuck my throat,” you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

A smile dangles on the corner of his lips. “We both know you can be nicer.”

The fucker makes your pulse race. “Can you fuck my throat?” you ask again, more insistently. “Please.”

He guides himself into your mouth, smirking as he watches how your eyes roll back in pleasure. “How polite of you to say please. Some good manners you’ve got.”

You whimper around him, your body responding to the rhythm he sets, fully immersed in the intensity of the moment. And for a while, you drift away, losing your sanity with each thrust of his hips, every tug at your hair. It’s almost impossible not to compare him to your past hookups. You try to recall at least a single instance when another man made you feel this way, but no memory surfaces.

Time seems to stretch and warp. You don’t really know when it happens—he pulls you off his cock, cradling your face, examining you. “You fucking love that, don’t you?” he asks with that sweet, syrupy voice, brushing away your tears. There’s no room left for embarrassment, so you nod, closing your mouth around his thumb. Defeated, Logan shakes his head, pressing his finger against your tongue. “I was planning on coming on your mouth, but I think I’ve got a better idea.”

In the blink of an eye, you’re in your bedroom. Not even a metaphor—he picks you up and basically runs to your room, closing the door behind him. You prop yourself on your forearms, trying to process what’s about to happen. Logan, already naked, climbs onto the bed after you, He kisses you slowly, tracing the curves of your body. “You still want this?”

“I do. I’m just… nervous, that’s all,” you admit, flashing him a quick smile. “It’s been two years of celibacy for me. Will it fit?” you ask, glancing down at his cock, and Logan stares at you in confusion. “Also, how many girlfriends have you had? Just curious.”

“I don’t think this is the time for that conversation.”

“You’re right,” you agree, lying back on the mattress, bracing yourself for what’s to come. “Were they pretty?”

“Bub.”

“Yes?”

“Shut up,” he replies with a smirk. “Focus on me, okay?”

Despite your tries to crack jokes at the worst possible moment, things escalate pretty quickly. Logan’s got three fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. He’s already made you come once with his mouth—to get you more relaxed, he had said. Wanting sounds slip past your lips as he doesn’t miss the chance to hit that spot that makes you squeeze your legs together. The tip of his nose drags long lines up and down the skin of your neck, mouthing at your jaw.

“I’m ready,” you mumble after some minutes, reaching for his cock and stroking him. “Let’s break the bed.”

“You’re lucky you’re this cute,” he says, catching your lips in a kiss. “Condom?”

“Negative, Sergeant.”

“You don’t have any?”

You shake your head, biting the inside of your cheek. “I don’t want you to use one.”

The way his gaze darkens doesn’t go unnoticed by you. His hand guides your face toward his cock. “Get me wet,” he commands, and you oblige, sucking him into your mouth. You hum around him, unable to contain yourself, and you hear Logan chuckling above you. “Can’t believe this is what it takes for you to shut up. Gotta keep your mouth full all the time.”

Once he’s satisfied with the way you’ve slicked him, he positions himself over you, caging you between his arms. Logan pins you down with his body, his hot breath mingling with yours. When you stare into his eyes, all you see is pure love, and your heart swells with affection. “Will you fuck the bad jokes out of me?”

Logan laughs, rubbing his length along your folds, grazing your clit for a fleeting second. “I sure as hell will,” he assures you, lining himself up with your wet entrance. He looks into your eyes for approval. “Ready?”

“I was born rea— Fuck!” you nearly scream as his head breaches you, your eyes squeezing shut. Turns out his fingers weren’t enough. “Fucking mutant dick.”

“You’ll love it, believe me,” he husks next to your ear. His arms shake where they rest on each side of your head, seemingly as affected as you are. Logan pulls out, and then fucks into you with a little more force.  “How are you still so tight? You’re killin’ me here.”

“I’ve got no idea, but you feel—amazing,” you gasp, latching onto his back, holding him close to you. His thrusts gain strength, and suddenly he’s bottoming inside you. “Oh, god. I can feel you in my stomach.”

“I know, baby, I know. Can feel it too,” he curls one of his hands around your throat, keeping you in place. From his position, he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure. Lowering his head to envelop one of your nipples between his lips, he sucks hard. “You were desperate enough to get on your knees in the damn kitchen. You’ll be good now too, am I right?”

“Yes. Yes. I can be good,” you pant, eyes wide and pleading. “Anything you want. Just don’t stop.”

“I’m not stoppin’, princess. Don’t worry,” his mouth curves into a wicked grin as he drives into you again, this time even deeper. His hand on your throat tightens slightly, just enough to make you feel the pressure, grounding you in the moment. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs against your chest, his voice laden with need. 

Each thrust has you gasping, your body arching off the bed to meet his. Logan’s grip on your neck loosens as his hand slides down to grasp your hip. He squeezes your tender flesh, pulling you harder against him, as if he can’t get close enough. The bed creaks under the intensity, but you barely notice, too far lost in the rhythm of his movements.

“You’re perfect, all I’ve ever wanted,” he slips his free hand between your bodies to find your clit, and the moment his fingers make contact with it, you can’t help but whine. “So fuckin’ perfect,” you hear him repeat, more to himself than to you, his voice stranded as he tries to hold himself back, letting you chase your own release first.

The pressure inside you builds up, tightening with every skilled flick of his fingers. You’re sure you must look like a mess, sweaty and sticky, though the way he looks at you makes you forget everything else. “Logan, I’m—” you croak, the wind being knocked out of your lungs with each relentless thrust. “I think I’m gonna come.”

He picks up speed, snapping his hips faster. “I’ve got you, let go for me. I’ll take care of you, baby, I swear,” his pace becomes erratic, digging his fingers into the softness of your thighs as the headboard keeps slamming against the wall. Your body obeys him, a shuddering release tearing through you, moaning Logan’s name and gripping him like a vice. “That’s it, fuck, that’s it,” he doesn’t stop, driving you through your orgasm. His eyes snap to your face, contemplating how wrecked you look. “Tell me where—please, sweetheart.”

“Inside.”

“What?”

“I said inside. Come inside me, Logan.”

He’s not strong enough to deny you such a thing. Logan buries himself to the hilt, groaning your name as his cock twitches and paints your walls with his thick seed. Beside your head, his claws unsheate, tearing into the pillow. He ruts against you, his body trembling and writhing against yours, already apologizing for the pillow incident while pressing his forehead to your shoulder. “Sorry, I’m sorry. That hasn’t happened in a while.”

When Logan collapses beside you, he pulls you into his arms, kissing you eagerly. You return the kiss, wincing as you feel a bit of his cum slip out of you, rolling down your thighs. He stares at your glistening cunt without an ounce of remorse, and you close your legs. “That’s private.”

“It wasn’t very private a minute ago.”

“Logan?”

“Tell me, bub.”

“Knock, knock.”

He must truly love you, because he plays along: “Who’s there?”

“Ice cream.”

“Ice cream who?”

“Ice cream for you all night long.”

“Guess I didn’t succeed in fuckin’ the bad jokes out of you,” he teases softly, letting his head fall back on the bed. “But it’s fine. I’ll just have to keep tryin’.”

This is the story of how you end up dating a man who’s two hundred years old. But it’s also the story of how that same man learns to let his guard down and open his heart. So, remember this, kids: the sky’s the limit, especially when it comes to love—and yes, even when it involves dating mutants.

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[dunmeshistash]

Okay I think I'm ready to write the second part of this post about Milsiril

To make it easier for me I'll just divide this into her relationship with Kabru, Mithrun and Helki (her ex-canary prisoner teammate)

First about Kabru

This is an extra from the daydream hour 5. The caption says "Something like this might as well have happened" so its probably not canon but could be. I honestly think his reaction to Milsiril visiting and being overbearing says a lot about the type of relantionship they have. This is the fakest bitch in the whole of dungeon meshi, he never says what he trully thinks unless there's an advantage to doing so, he's a people pleaser that does and says anything to make people like/trust him. And yet he immediatly converts into "Mooooooom you're embarassing meeeeee" when he sees it's Milsiril.

This translation used "Mom" but as I understand the original he uses the more formal version so I think it would be closer to "Mother" but still he acknowleges her as his Mother, and he acts like her kid in every interaction we see between them.

I really don't understand where the idea that he learned to be fake from being "forced" to be her adoptive son comes from.

(Continuing under a cut)

The other interaction we see between them is the Kabru extra from the Adventurer's Bible

Kabru comes to her with a deep fear he clearly has had even before she adopted him, he trusted her with this fear and she did not disappoint him, she comforted him and then gave him the information he needed to believe what she was saying

I'd also like to point out in no moment she discouraged him from calling his his bio-mom "Mom". He also says she taught her children everything they asked

I doubt this would only be true for him, it also mirrors something she said in the manga

"You can go ahead and learn all you want about something else." I believe it when Kabru says she made every effort to answer her children's questions. I think this is also the way she expresses the love she has for them. Plus I love the thought bubble with Kabru mirroring what he learned from her. I also love this daydream hour, she sacrifices her own comfort to do something for Kabru.

Milsiril isn't a perfect mother tho, besides the fact she is overprotective she comes from a very different culture from her children. I like to call her Kabru's white mom cause I think that would be the real world equivalent. This extra is the one I think the most about showing this context perfectly

Kabru wants to share Utaya sweets but looks at his mom looking gloomy/rejected so he talks about fruitcake instead. This very rude for Milsiril to do since she's kinda trying to overwrite his actual cultural background, but I think its done more as a "I want you to like the things I like" rather than something nefarious, and once again Kabru doesn't hide at all his distaste for it, he does the bare minimum to please his mom since she's being dramatic but he doesn't lie to her, he shows how displeased he is about fruitcake, something he refuses to do when eating the harpy omelette that is way worse, because he must make a good impression for Laios. Kabru is honest with his overbearing white mom once again.

Now a little about Rin, from Kabru's context, this is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

(look at Helki he's such a gremlin i love him) anyway, Rin has a trauma about elves, they really mistreated her so she hates them, but when they notice she isn't thriving they go to Milsiril for help (Helki specifically I'll talk more about him next). I think this indicates she really has a better understanding of short lived kids, her kids are thriving differently from the ones the other elves try to care for. I'd also like to remember she lives secluded from other elves so while Kabru probably had lots of interactions with elves during his life, most of it was probably spent with Milsiril and her other adoptive kids. She also asks Kabru if he would do this to help Rin, he isn't being forced or anything, I also think it's good that Milsiril knows she cant take in any more kids, this to me shows she's worried about the quality of life her kids have. That is all to say, Rin is the one with elf trauma, not Kabru, because Kabru had Milsiril to shelter him from them.

Helki

This will be short and sweet since there's barely anything about Helki, he's her prisioner companion from her time in the canaries, but he was pardoned after Utaya, it says so in the Canarie's Structure page in the new adventurer's guide but I cant really find it translated again... so here's google's machine translation (I remember it saying "Retired and pardoned as a reward after Utaya", something like that)

so officially he isn't a prisoner anymore, but I think he still works as a canary, even so he and Milsiril seem quite close, he is the one to go talk to her about Rin, He is there when she's training Kabru (both laughing at Kabru and then participating). I saw people theorizing she stays close to him because he is also someone who she can feel superior to, but I don't believe it at all, he's STILL in contact with her even after they have nothing to with each other, I think they really have a friendship, and there's no point where it seems like she feels like she's better than him or that he's less than her, people seem to interpret Milsiril and her relationships in the worst possible ways every time and I don't understand why.

This segways into Mithrun

I've also seen people assuming she only got close to Mithrun because now he needs her and has no power over her, once again with the theory that Milsiril surrounds herself with people she can feel superior to. But once again, Milsiril had a change of perspective about Mithrun after seeing his Dungeon

Rather than she feeling superior to him I think rather she realized he was just like her. (And I think she's friends with Helki for a similar reason, it's probably easier to see him as an equal than other nobles)

I've also seen this part used as proof of that. "He said that you've got suspicious ulterior motives and that I shouldn't listen to you" as if that's true, but this is past Mithrun, the one that didn't trust anyone and thought ill of all his teammates, ofc he doesn't believe someone would help him without an ulterior motive. This doesn't prove much about her real motivations.

Also before she showed up, Mithrun was being cared for by servants hired by his brother, he isn't someone helpless she has power over, he is still a member of an important Noble family that has a caring brother providing for him, he can do without Milsiril, he had done without her for 20 years before Utaya happened and she quit the Canaries.

This is all to say I think Milsiril is just a white(elf) adoptive mom doing her best, I don't see much of anything nefarious about her or her motivations, she is flawed as all the dunmeshi characters are, she isn't a perfect mom, she isn't an evil mom, she's just a person.

Elves in general also see short lived species as "children" so I imagine this makes her "You'll always be my baby" attitude way worse, she really treats pre-teen/teen Kabru like he's a toddler sometimes. But she also respected him enough to go all out in training him. I think they're a family with everything that entails.

PS: I didn't get much into Interracial adoption since this is something that happens irl too and I don't know much about all the issues that entails, but in the end, in this case, it seems like a net positive for the kids she adopts considering all we see about how she raised Kabru.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

chaggie talk post charlie's ex dropping by the hotel, time for hugs

Charlie: "....Vaggie?"

(THUNK)

Vaggie: "Charlie- Oh sweetie hi! I was just uh..."

Charlie: "Using a picture of my ex for target practice?"

Vaggie: (slumping) "Sorry."

Charlie: "Don't be! Look like you had pretty good aim, heheh!" (hugs gf) "I'm sorry he showed up today like that."

Vaggie: "Totally not your fault, babe. That was all him."

Charlie: "You really hate him, huh?"

Vaggie: "I don't even know the guy."

Charlie: "You hate what you do know about him."

Vaggie: "Yeah. Well. You dumped him for a reason. Right?"

Charlie: "Several."

Vaggie: "So how's seeing him again going? You okay? Him stopping by out of the blue like this..."

Charlie: "I'm okay!"

Vaggie: "Really."

Charlie: "I'm okay enough. I wish he'd been a little less HIM about it all but I'm okay!" (hugs tighter) "I have you. You make everything better."

Vaggie: "...."

Vaggie: (hugs back) "Charlie?"

Charlie: "Hm?"

Vaggie: "Do you want me to be honest?"

Charlie: "If you can. As much as you're okay with."

Vaggie: "......I wasn't okay with this. With him."

Charlie: "Never would have guessed. Not like you almost taking his head off with your spear was a pretty big hint or anything."

Vaggie: "I hated seeing how he could just walk back into your life like that."

Charlie: "He's not IN my life again, Vaggie, he's just helping with the hotel- well I guess right now he's probably already in a sex dungeon knowing Angel Dust-"

Vaggie: "A- sex dungeon?"

Charlie: "I'll tell you later. Tell me your stuff now?"

Vaggie: "...he's your ex."

Charlie: "Yes. Very."

Vaggie: "But you broke up with him just for annoying, normal things."

Charlie: "There was lot of them but also yes."

Vaggie: "He wasn't, isn't, a bad person."

Charlie: "He could use SOME character growth but yeah. A normal enough guy."

Vaggie: "He's not violent or cruel or anything."

Charlie: "Harmless like I said. He's also just. Well."

Vaggie: "Not a murderer."

Charlie: "Vaggie..."

Vaggie: "Sorry." (hides face) "Forget it."

Charlie: "No I- I didn't mean-"

Vaggie: "Forget it. What's Angel Dust doing with him?"

Charlie: "I don't know or care right now." (snuggles gf) "Please, keep going?"

Vaggie: "It's the same stupid thing as ever."

Charlie: "Not stupid. Important."

Vaggie: "Your ex drops by and I'm making it about me." (snorts) "Sounds pretty stupid."

Charlie: "No. It's not. My girlfriend is hurt and sad, and that's not something to just forget. It also makes it about me too, I think. Tell me?"

Vaggie: "...I just..."

Vaggie: (sighs)

Vaggie: "I'm just jealous."

Charlie: "Jealous? Of what? You don't have be- I don't have the slightest, tiniest interest in him anymore-"

Vaggie: "But it'd make sense if you did."

Charlie: "No it wouldn't! Why would you think-?"

Vaggie: "Did he ever keep a huge secret from you for years?"

Charlie: "No?"

Vaggie: "Or stand back and let some terrible news get dropped on you at the worst possible moment, just because he was too scared to tell you himself?"

Charlie: "Vaggie-"

Vaggie: "He never hurt you like I did, Charlie. Did he."

Charlie: "....."

Charlie: "He never could have... I didn't let him. I was never as close with him as I am with you."

Vaggie: "Why not? Why..."

Charlie: "He never wanted to talk seriously about the hotel or saving sinners. No one did but. But he'd get me talking about it in front of others, sometimes, just so he could swoop in and be the hero for me when they laughed. But they had to laugh at me first before he'd do the swooping."

Vaggie: "Asshole."

Charlie: "Kinda. You're not like that."

Vaggie: "Those are small things though, not, not secretly an Exorcist level things-"

Charlie: "They feel like big things to me."

Vaggie: "Still-"

Charlie: "Bigger than you having been something that you aren't anymore."

Vaggie: "But I still hurt you with it! And there were years when you thought we could be close without you getting hurt at all. That's why you even trusted me, right?"

Charlie: "You make it sound like I planned it out. Vaggie, I just, I kept waking up happy. Everyday, I was just glad you were here."

Vaggie: "..."

Charlie: "I am happy you're here."

Vaggie: "..."

Vaggie: "...past me was so stupid, Charlie."

Charlie: "She was scared. When I thought maybe you didn't really want to be here with me, I got scared too."

Vaggie: "And angry."

Charlie: "You think so?" (chuckles) "So did I fool you?"

Vaggie: "Fool me? Sweetie, you were glaring daggers. Completely deserved daggers but yeah, I did notice them."

Charlie: "I was scared I'd cry every time I looked at you. I HATED not being sure I could hug you, or if I ever would again, and putting on an angry face helped me not, well, break down ugly sobbing."

Vaggie: "It's okay if you were angry, that's a normal thing when-"

Charlie: "I was upset! But if I'd been pissed at you, my horns would've been out. Where they ever?"

Vaggie: "No."

Charlie: "No~"

Vaggie: "... I've another stupid confession-"

Charlie: "I'm vetoing that word!"

Vaggie: "Alright alright." (laughs) "I've got another HONEST confession to make."

Charlie: "I'd love to hear it."

Vaggie: "I was. A little. Disappointed seeing you with Seviathan."

Charlie: "I wasn't with him-"

Vaggie: "Talking to him. Whatever."

Charlie: "Okay. Why?"

Vaggie: "This is gonna sound horrible."

Charlie: "You're judgement on horrible stuff to do with you is a liiiiittle bit skewed so maybe get a second opinion? Like mine?"

Vaggie: "..... you weren't pissed off just from seeing him."

Charlie: "I mean I wouldn't say I was happy about it either-"

Vaggie: "You're horns weren't out."

Charlie: "No?"

Vaggie: "You weren't even glaring."

Charlie: "Glaring at what, he was just standing there with his hand on my arm- Oh."

Vaggie: "Yeah."

Charlie: "OH!"

Vaggie: "I was more than one kind of jealous."

Charlie: "Vaggie- that-" (burst into giggles) "I didn't even notice he was doing that! It's probably just muscle memory for him!"

Vaggie: "Yeah." (growls) "I figured."

Charlie: "Awww my poor girl~"

Vaggie: "Ugh."

Charlie: "Don't worry, I know what will cheer you right up! You wanna hear how I almost threw him out of the hotel after you left?"

Vaggie: "...You told him to get out?"

Charlie: "Threw, Vaggie. Physically. Almost right out the door."

Vaggie: "Seriously?" (looks up) (grinning) "What'd he do?"

Charlie: "He asked if you were s- uhhhhhhhhhh that's not the important point! Point is, I was PISSED, and if YOU want to keep using his picture as a dart board for your spear throwing time then that's fine by me!!"

Vaggie: "Thanks babe." (smooch) "Talking is good, doing the talking with you feels good, but stabbing also makes me feel better too."

Charlie: "Really? How much better?"

Vaggie: "Wanna find out?"

Charlie: "Oh I shouldn't..."

Charlie: (looks thoughtfully at seviathan's picture)

Vaggie: (offers spear)

Charlie: "....but maaaabye... if it helps me understand MY girlfriend better..." (takes spear)

Vaggie: "Lot of emphasis on the 'my' part there, babe."

Charlie: "Well you are! Mine. My girlfriend."

Vaggie: "As your girlfriend I could stand behind you and correct your stance if you wanted me to."

Charlie: "With your hands on my hips?"

Vaggie: "Where else?"

Charlie: (grinning) "Nowhere."

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | pt. 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

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

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 74,922 others!

yourusername life lately 💌

user1 swiftie, romcom lover and f1 fan... she's really one of us🩷

user2 and that's why she's the girlies' bestie

user3 QUEEN WE MISSED U SO MUCH

user4 as pretty as always 😍

user5 i'm probably reaching here but posting THAT movie feels like a statement's being made 👀

user6 right?? after all the drama she goes and posts that movie title and i just don't know how to feel user7 user6 thank god she just posted the title cause if she'd posted the "you can't lose something you never had" line, i would've lost my mind 😥 user8 or maybe yn just likes the movie??? user9 user8 THIS!! people act like there's a secret meaning to everything and i'm tired of that crap

user10 i'm a simple girl: i see yn and taylor swift in the same post, i like

user11 so what happened? were you starting to lose relevance and decided to come back?😂😂

user12 she needs to pay the bills somehow 😂 user13 girlie came back to keep playing the victim lol user14 y'all need to get a life asap.

user15 YOU DROP THIS QUEEN 👑

carmenmmundt gorgeous woman 😍

yourusername you are💗 user16 OMG MY FAV GIRLS INTERACTING user17 carmen please please please stay away from this problematic woman😕

user18 soooo are we gonna talk about lando liking the post or what

user19 girl i can't do this again user20 can't believe lando is back again with this bitch😒 user21 user20 wtf??? it's just a like omfg chill.

user22 yn please don't leave us again 🥺

📞 calling Pato

[yn; normal] [pato; cursive]

"Hi-"

"I'm not gonna lie, you are either very brave or very stupid for calling me right after the videos of your little date with Lando are going viral. Did you get tired of hiding your relationship?"

"...Guess I deserve that."

"[sights] What do you want, yn?"

"I swear I won't take up much of your time. I just want to talk... well, apologize, actually. I'd prefer to do it face to face rather than over the phone but I know that right now I'm probably the last person you wanna see. At least this way, if you don't wanna keep listening to me, you can just end the call."

"Well, I'm very tempted to end the call right now."

"Pato, I-"

"However, I'm also very curious about what you have to say."

"So...?"

"So I'll give you a chance to talk. But I promise you yn, if I hear any lame excuses, I will hang up and block you. Are we clear?"

"Hundred percent clear."

"Then talk."

"Well... first of all, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I promise it was never my intention to hurt you, even if I ended up doing it anyway. I should've told you from the beginning the kind of relationship I had with Lando and I should've been honest with you, especially when my feelings towards you changed to something deeper. I kno-"

"Hold on. What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"What did you just say?"

"That I'm sorry I lied to yo-"

"No, no. The part about your feelings."

"Oh. Well... you heard me. And I don't know why you sound so surprised. I mean, what happened between me and Lando in Spain was a stupid and terrible decision I made, and I should've known better cause my feelings for you were getting stronger."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"I... [sights]. I've thought about it a lot in the last few weeks, you know? I was trying to put all the blame on Lando when in the end I was the one who took the initiative. We were just going to talk to end that situationship once and for all, and then I kissed him. And instead of stopping him when he was going for more, I just let it happen cause in my head it was a form of goodbye. Clearly I ended up feeling guilty but the damage was done. And when I could've made things right by telling you the truth about what happened, I didn't. I was embarrassed, but mostly scared of losing the best man I've ever known... but that ended up happening anyway, and I'm to blame for that."

"..."

"Pato?"

"Did you love him?"

"No. We started out as friends and one day I realized I was attracted to him, one night one thing led to another and we became friends with benefits ever since. He didn't want a relationship at that time and neither did I. But in the last few months that changed for me. I wanted a partner, a committed relationship. Lando wasn't that and I was tired of being just a "casual thing". So no. I liked him, but I never loved him."

"So what was that date night about?"

"Just us being adults and having a real and necessary conversation. I had things to apologize for and so did he. I think Lando and I finally found common ground and are ready to move forward... not with each other, just to be clear. Just friends and nothing else."

"For real this time?"

"For real this time. My priorities and my heart are elsewhere."

"Oh, really? Where?"

"I could tell you or I could show you. To be honest, and if you let me, I'd rather show you. You know, actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah, I've heard that. You have any idea?"

"It depends. What are you doing on Friday?"

pacers

liked by elbaoward, tyresehaliburton, arrowmclaren, and 43,942 others!

pacers We had some motorsport representation in the house tonight!

user1 ynpato being hard launched (again?) by the pacers was not on my bingo card but i appreciate it🫶

user2 this is so random and i love it!! user3 the pacers earned my respect after this 🫡 user4 pacers stonks after this hard launch📈📈📈

user5 YNPATO BASKETBALL DATE? WE WON FR

user6 this is like straight out of a movie 😻 user7 THEY'RE SO ROMCOM CODED

user8 NOOO PATO NOT HER AGAIN 😫😫

user9 right? my week has been ruined. user10 keep cryin' haters 😘

indycar Hi yn and pato!! 👋

user11 basket date a few days after her post? she's an icon AND the mastermind fr 💅

user12 context?? user13 user12 her last ig post included a pic of "how to lose a guy in 10 days" and some people were speculating it could mean something, now yn goes with pato to a basketball game just like in the movie 😂 user14 SHE MANIFESTED IT AS THE QUEEN SHE IS🙌

user15 real question is: yourusername did Pato get you a soda?

patriciooward of course i did! 🙄 yourusername not only that but he also got his head in the game😏🏀 user16 I'M LIVING FOR THIS REFERENCES

user17 they make such a beautiful couple omg🥹

user18 are y'all forgetting she was in a date with lando just a few days ago????

user19 she belongs to the streets fr user20 the day y'all understand yn can be friends with lando or anyone is when you'll finally grow up.

user21 not related but she always slays with her outfits🔥

user22 fashion icon for real 🤩 user23 i want her wardrobe so bad😩

user24 YNPATO CONFIRMED 🚀🚀🚀

user25 i just wanna know if pato can fight 🤺

user26 i wanna be her so badly 😩

user27 same girl, same

yourusername posted to their story!

yourusername

liked by arrowmclaren, oscarpiastri, frosenqvist, and 79,889 others!

yourusername And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. King of my heart, body and soul 🧡

user1 MOM AND DAD ARE THRIVING 😍

user2 and we love to see it! user3 this is their world and we're just living in it

user4 yn is stronger than me cause if Pato looked at me like in the second pic... 😳😳

user5 IKR??? I'M DEAD user6 i was not ready for that, i'm currently on the floor user7 i meaaaan she's dating him, she already won in life

user8 THE CAPTION???? omg they're so cute🥹

user9 YNPATO AND TAYLOR GANG WE WON

user10 relationship goals for real ❤️‍🔥

user11 tired of being a spectator, I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE😭

landonorris if you three weren't that cute i'd try to steal Norbi from you

patriciooward back off, Norris 🤺 landonorris watch out, O'Ward 🤺 yourusername oh hell no mclaren arrowmclaren may i have permission to ground these kids? mclaren you may proceed 😉 patriciooward WHAT landonorris THE BETRAYAL user12 i used to pray for interactions like these 😭😭 user13 user12 we've come so far 😭 user14 WAAAAR IS OOOOVER

user15 yn's living her best life and i'm so happy for her 🤧

elbaoward I don't appreciate being left out of the photo, but I love you lovebirds anyway 💘

yourusername imma post a dump of just beautiful pics of you😘 love u elbaoward i'll be waiting then ☺️ patriciooward i also want a photo dump🥺 yourusername no 😚 user16 i want to belong to this family so bad, do you need a nanny for Norbi or anything?

user17 atp I'm just waiting for the engagement announcement

user18 same but i don't think i'll survive it user19 CAN U IMAGINE? OMG

user20 tag yourself i'm Norbi in the last pic

patriciooward te amo, preciosa ❤️

yourusername love u more, handsome 🥰 user21 AND I LOVE YOU BOTH

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65 @littlexscarletxwitch @sheslikeacurse @charlottejpg @lichterfee @callsignwidow @phantomxoxo @stinkyjax @rubywingsracing @willowpains @urfavsgf @biitch-with-wifi @lightdragonrayne @illicitverstappen @herebereblogs @tvdtw4ever @nataliambc @norwayxo

author's note: AND THAT'S A WRAP! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance💖 To my Lando girlies, don't be mad! He was a jerk in this story but I'll post another one where he gets the love he actually deserves. And to my Pato girlies, stay tuned! I plan to post more stories with him cause it's what our lovely man deserves. And if you want me to write about some other driver, feel free to send me a request! I'll see what I can do🧡 See y'all soon!

[within-your-eyes-if]

September 1st Progress Update

Hello everyone!

First, I apologize that there was no progress update for August. I took a break after the last update, and then personal matters came up, which extended it.

I'm starting to find my rhythm again, life loves to toss us into loops. I have the codes implemented and working, a few scenes done, and more revisions underway — particularly focusing on the poly routes. I wanted to share some samples today, but I want to polish things a bit more first. I'll make a random post with those soon.

Patreon: It's still in the works, I promise, but I'll be honest: I got a bit of cold feet. I had things planned out and ready to go, but self-doubt crept in. I'm working through it, and I'll probably launch it once the first chapter's new systems are fully implemented so that Patrons can check it out.

Asks: There's a lot I'm trying to consider. I'm not quite sure how I want to proceed just yet, and I'm sorry for any uncertainty. Right now, I'm trying find a balance for everything again.

Save Issues: I've received reports of save issues on mobile. This seems browser-related and not something I can fix myself. I've tested Firefox and found no issues personally. Someone on itch.io shared that Kiwi Browser and Brave work as well. Opera GX doesn't work at all, and Google Chrome seems to be random.

Anyways, it's a bore of an update and I'm sorry for that. I look forward to sharing some samples for these new systems and seeing what you think! Thank you all for your patience and support. Have a lovely month!

[blackkatdraws2]

I'm involved in a Stanley Reblog Chain and put effort into these drawings so I'll post them here too.

[The other characters belong to insomniphic / beartitled / and marionette-j2x]

[Just me rambling underneath!] ↓

Tumblr has a tag limit and it grates my nerves to no end to know that I can't ramble as much as I'd like to...

Stanley and the bad bitch he pulled by being a loser. Imagine having a hot babe deform reality just to be together with you because he sensed you were feeling lonely without him. [WHEN IS IT MY TURN?!]

It's funny because with the general vibe of their AU, it would make sense for him to show up in the most flashy but also unnerving way possible. The Narrator's [Black's] arrival has to grab people's eyes since attention and views are what he's all about.

I wasn't sure what type of characterization they had so I just played it safe and [tried to] draw how my characters would respond instead of blindly guessing how the others would talk or act around each other. [My Stanley is antisocial and an anxiety-ridden freak.]

Also, I've been wondering what their height differences actually were when I saw my Stanley have to look up at Marionette's Narrator [since this guy is pretty damn tall] so I did a bit of digging and this was what I found.

I had a lot of fun making this by the way. It's been a while since I've participated in any Reblog Chains that involved character interactions and making comics, so it's a real throwback to when I first started posting TSP art in 2023.

Stanley here is an absolute social shutoff teehee, but he does talk back when talked to. His responses usually leave no openings to continue the conversation though. He's the type of guy to stay on the corner and watch everyone else.

As for the Narrator [Black] he's a bit strange. He's proper in public, but he doesn't think the other people are special [or not as special as he is at least]. He just doesn't care to be honest, he keeps to himself [along with Stanley] and that's it. It's a miracle for Stanley to have even pulled somebody like Black considering their personalities are the type to clash with one another. [They love each other though, genuinely. Despite how deranged they can be towards each other sometimes, that development took a long time to be nurtured into something healthier for those two.]

Also, 4th wall breaking in action!!!!!!!!!!!

Black didn't want to interrupt this comic since it was made for Stanley but after the other three came in he lost reservations and came in as well.

[Copy and Pasting the tags of my other post because I am NOT re-writing all of this...]

These two would probably just stay in their own spot [somewhere quiet and more alone]. This place is a bit too crowded for their liking. But I would be very happy to jump on any opportunity to make my guys interact with the others!!!!! Don't be afraid to throw a bone [prompt] for me to bite on, okay?

[hispg]

Comfort

Pairings: R4! Leon x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your husband is glad that he has you, just like he's glad to have his little family.

Wc:4.8k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, p in v, mentions of ptsd, mentions of birth and pregnancy, soft sex(nothing too kinky), oral sex(f receiving), just Leon being a sweetheart.

An:So, this week has been very busy for me. As I've been saying in my last few posts, university has been taking up a lot of my time, as well as my mental health being pretty messed up. I didn't manage to finish the chapter of 'Between Love and Vows' so I probably won't post anything new until next week. In compensation, I'll post another one of my drafts (smut), I'll make a poll so you guys can choose. And next week I'll post two new chapters of the series! Thanks for your love and understanding <3 If I haven't answered your comment, ask or request, don't worry, I will eventually🫶🫶

MDNI

Sleepless nights, the nightmares that kept tormenting him, his mind that was in turmoil all the time. Leon was used to all this, he had already realized that these were sensations he would carry with him for the rest of his life.

His trauma, ptsd that haunted him every day. Things he had seen and heard, all so fresh in his memory, so vivid. Things that no matter how hard he tried to forget, he couldn't. As if it were a mark stamped on his soul.

But he coped, as he always does with everything in life. Little by little, he understood how to deal with panic attacks, how to calm down even when he was about to collapse. He learned all this, but that didn't make things any less worse than they were.

Although he thought he had everything under control, that it wouldn't affect him as much as before, he was wrong.

His last mission in Spain proved it, he went from hell to heaven to save the president's daughter. Everything worked out in the end, but that doesn't erase what he experienced or saw.

Many times he could have sworn that if it hadn't been for you, he would have gone mad a long time ago. Even if you weren't able to end the pain he felt, you were there to be the light at the end of the tunnel for him, the clarity to his own insanity.

All this because every time he returned from a mission, he came home first, not caring if he was all dirty with mud and dirt, even blood. His safe haven was here, with you.

That was the only reason he always came home, no matter how difficult things might be for him. You were what he needed, you were the person who healed all his wounds, and he couldn't be more grateful.

If it had been anyone else, he would have left you by now, but you understood him. You listened to him even if he didn't make any sense, you were still there.

Your love was the remedy for all his problems.

And if he was being honest, it was the reason he woke up every day, the only reason he had a place to call home. You, simply you.

And that night, he found himself on another one of those nights when he couldn't sleep, and there he was, pacing around the house, finding something to occupy his mind.

It had been two weeks since he had returned from his mission in Spain, and he was still terrified by everything that had happened, even though he was safe and sound in the comfort of his own home.

He woke up from a nightmare, yet another one. And in order not to wake you too, he preferred to get out of bed. You were already tired enough to have to deal with him in the wee hours of the morning.

He was so careful with you, even though you had told him several times that it was okay for him to wake you up if he needed to. But he was stubborn enough to say no.

As he made some tea, just to see if it would calm his nerves, he watched the rain falling outside, the gentle drips hitting the window.

In that silence he began to have some sweet memories, it always helped to calm him down a little. One of those memories was when he asked you to marry him, God, he still remembers the nervousness that ran through his whole body. The trembling hands that held the box with the ring, the words that he had rehearsed so much and still came out messy. He was so afraid of being told no, but his heart calmed down when you smiled and threw yourself into his arms, saying yes again and again, making his heart melt each time.

That night he fell even more in love with you, if that were possible.

When you started living together, every time he came home he was greeted with a hug, you welcomed him with love and affection. He felt his cold exterior crumble at the same moment, words couldn't describe how much he liked it. Every little gesture that came from you, no matter what, he always took it to heart and considered it with all his soul.

He still vividly remembered a conversation he had with you as soon as you moved in together. It never failed to crack a smile.

"Darling, did you let something burn?" Leon asks as he feeds himself, looking around the kitchen.

You look at him with a laugh, seeing that he arrived so tired that he didn't even realize he was still in his work clothes. And then you answer, "No, why do you ask?"

"Nothing, it's just that something stinks." He says quietly, focused on finishing his food.

You can't help yourself and a giggle escapes your lips, "You haven't showered yet, sweetheart."

"Oh..." He mumbles, looking down at his state.

He was so entertained that he only noticed a baby crying from one of the bedrooms, it was you guys son.

He didn't hesitate to go into the baby's room, watching the little one whimpering in his crib, even though he was warm and comfortable in his blankets, the little boy was still bothered by something.

Leon imagined that he wasn't hungry, since you had fed him not long ago. Then he thought it might be his diaper that was dirty, which he soon confirmed.

So the baby was in his arms the next second, he put the little boy on the changing table and changed him properly, not forgetting a single detail, from carefully wiping him down with a wet wipe, to the ointment he had to apply to prevent diaper rash.

He checked the diaper to make sure it was fastened properly. Once he'd checked everything, he rocked the baby in his arms until the little one fell asleep again.

He even sang a lullaby, one of the little boy's favorites. He still thought it sounded ridiculous, but he didn't care as long as it soothed the baby.

Every time he looked at the little one's face, he couldn't hold back the loving smile that always appeared on his lips. It was still hard to believe that he had his own little family.

It's still clear in his memory when you announced that you were pregnant, the uncertainty and fear that consumed him. The anguish he felt, the apprehension of being a bad father. As well as the shock he felt when he received the news, since it wasn't something either of you were expecting. Not least because you had just started living together, so it was a lot all at once. But nothing that shook the relationship, quite the opposite.

But every time he saw you laugh, every time you came home with a little baby thing, whether it was clothes, shoes or even a toy. He couldn't contain his joy at the thought that he was going to be a father, that he was going to have a child.

It wasn't long before he started buying lots and lots of things for the baby, rattles, diapers, baby cloths, various types of educational toys, plush toys and everything else.

In a matter of weeks, the spare room in the house was full and ready to receive the baby, even if you weren't that far along in your pregnancy.

Not only did he become even more protective, the kind that wouldn't even let you lift a thing, but he accompanied you throughout your pregnancy. From start to finish. Even though he sometimes had to leave for work, he never failed to call you, even if it was late at night.

He always made video calls to see how you were doing, even talking to the baby in your belly on the phone. Even if they were quick calls, he still made sure they happened.

It was obvious that he wanted to be there for you, and he made it clear whenever he could, because he did everything for you, simply everything. Craves? He'd arrange anything you wanted. Going out late at night to buy a slice of cake in a particular flavor? Well, he was there. He would go to the end of the earth to find whatever you wanted.

When you were uncomfortable he was there, always whispering kind things to you, always trying to calm you down and relax in his embrace, trying to give you all the security you could have. He still remembers when your water broke, you were so calm, and he was about to have a heart attack.

Yet he was with you the whole way, holding your hand as you went into labor.

But all his worry went away as soon as he heard the baby's cry, the little being that had just come out of you. He still remembers the unconditional love he felt as soon as he laid eyes on the little one, as soon as he saw you cradling the boy in your arms, crying with exhaustion and joy. Just as he was crying as much as the baby, he felt so happy that he couldn't imagine being anywhere else but there with you and your bundle of joy.

"What are we going to call him?" Leon asked through tears, wiping away his own with the back of his hand.

"I don't know, sweetheart, we agreed that if it was a boy you'd choose." You say in a whisper, giving him a small smile. Rocking the newborn in your arms.

"No, I'd rather you chose." He says softly, running his fingers through the baby's thin golden strands, which by the way had the same hair as his father.

"Leon-," he doesn't let you finish, giving you a kiss on the lips. Letting his forehead rest on yours, looking at you with tear-filled eyes and a sweet smile.

"You've already given me one of the greatest joys of my life. Nothing could be fairer than for you to choose any name you like." Kind words that made your heart melt, and you just nodded.

At that moment he realized that there was no better place in the world. That there was nowhere else he wanted to be, all he needed was you.

While he was lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice that the little one had already fallen asleep, making cooing noises, his mouth hanging open while he slept peacefully. Even the way he slept was like Leon's, it was funny to see how similar the two of them were.

Then he slowly placed the little one in his crib, tucking him into the covers and making sure he was warm and comfortable for the rest of the night.

He stayed for a few more minutes, humming some more until he was sure the boy wouldn't wake up too soon.

After that he moved into the kitchen, where he found you awake, which was enough to make him wrinkle his eyebrows.

"Love?" He asks softly, moving towards you.

You answer him with a smile, giving him a hug, "You should have called me."

He shakes his head, kissing the top of your head, "I didn't have to."

You pout, giving him a playful pat on the shoulder.

"Here, I've made your tea. I've also put out a slice of cake for you." You murmur with a smile, pointing to the plate on the table.

He chuckles, holding your face and kissing the tip of your nose.

"You're amazing." He whispers before walking over to the table and sitting down, taking a sip of tea and eating the cake, which, by the way, was his favorite flavor.

So you sat next to him, waiting for him to finish eating silently.

"Your food is fucking good." Leon says, taking a bite of his cake and smiling at you.

You couldn't help but giggle, knowing that even if you burned the food, he'd eat it and say it was good.

"No, you're just being nice." You say softly, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He laughed genuinely, entwining his fingers with yours. Then he lifted your hand and kissed the back of it.

You were always amazed by his loving gestures, which he always made towards you. And so the two of you remained until he had finished eating, rubbing his thumb against your hand to give it a gentle caress.

When he had finished, he leaned back in his chair and sighed, looking at you with a smile. But you couldn't help noticing the dark circles under his eyes, just as he still had a few scratches and bruises all over his body. As well as the scars, some new, some old. All a mark of his profession.

"Did you have another nightmare?" you ask, running your fingers along his cheekbones, smiling softly.

He nodded with a tired sigh, leaning into your touch, "No big deal."

You knew that he always hid these things from you, not least because it took time for him to feel comfortable sharing the events of his mission with you.

"You can tell me, smartass." You said smiling, rubbing your nose against his, letting his hand rest on the small of your back.

His lips curved into a small smile, just as his eyes met yours. And that was enough to make you blush slightly, no matter how long you'd been together, he always had that effect on you.

The rain began to fall harder outside, enough to make you both look out of the window. The rain left a comfortable atmosphere in the kitchen, just the two of you sharing the warmth of your bodies, making that cold night a little warmer.

You picked up the dishes and took them to the sink, taking the opportunity to wash them right away. And it wasn't long before you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist, just as he rested his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath beating against you.

"I swear to God I love the smell of your lotion." He purrs, rubbing his nose against your neck, hugging you tightly.

You smiled, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. Even if it was late at night, those moments were so precious to you both. A little intimacy was always nice.

But even with all the affection coming from him, you could feel how tense his muscles were, how his breathing wasn't very regulated. Every time he had these nightmares, they took a while to wear off, and he was still scared for a good few hours.

You then turned to him, held his face in your hands and looked at him seriously, "You should have called me."

He knew how this conversation would go. But to be honest, he wasn't paying attention to your speech, only to the way your lips moved as you spoke, your sweet voice entering his ears. Even if it was you scolding him.

All he could do was give you a silly little smile, stroking your cheeks with his thumb. No matter how much you talked, he would forget the next day. He just didn't want to worry you with his work matters.

Gently he put his index finger to your lips, whispering, "Why don't you hush, darling?"

You widened your eyes, preparing to protest, but he interrupted you, giving you a loving kiss. The kiss was full of affection and tenderness, just as he wasted no time in wrapping his arms around your waist once again, gluing your body to his.

Without giving you time to say another word, he carried you in his arms, taking you to your room like a princess, as if you weighed nothing, he did it with the purest ease.

His grip was firm, as if he didn't want to let you go, he wanted to have you there, in his arms.

Your room was dark, lit only by the faint light of the moon, while the rain continued to fall outside. It wasn't long before he laid you down on the mattress, letting you sink into the soft surface.

The door locked, the baby asleep, just the two of you in that room. The perfect moment for what was about to happen.

No matter how many times Leon looked at you, he always lost his breath, his breath caught in his throat.

You were so beautiful, so perfect, he didn't know how he had been so lucky to have found someone like you, and he couldn't thank you enough for that.

His hands began to move slowly up your thigh, callused fingers caressing the soft skin, letting his hand wander over the flesh, touching you with all the passion he had to offer. And he would do this for the rest of your life.

His mouth finding your neck, his hot breath making you gasp, letting him do whatever he wanted with you.

Soon the wet kisses began, leaving his lips hovering over the weak spots that he knew, he knew exactly where to touch, because he knew well that every touch of his made your body shiver with desire.

"You're beautiful." He whispers, giving your thigh a light squeeze, feeling the soft fabric of your nightgown on the back of his hand.

You give a sly smile, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him close.

He soon understands what you want, and he gives it to you right away. A tender, passionate kiss, gently capturing your lips.

You don't know how, but he always manages to show his devotion to you with every kiss, every touch, every night of love. He makes it seem like the first time, always showing you how much he loves you.

His fingers keep tracing your thigh, feeling how warm your body gets from his touch. Your body reacting under his, squirming and shivering, an incentive for him.

When he pulls away from you a little, just to stop the kiss. He nibbles your lip, lifts your leg and grabs the back of your thigh.

Making a point of giving you wet kisses all over your neck, shoulders, collar bone, all to hear the sweet sounds that escaped your lips every time, the way you begged softly for him to continue.

"Oh, fuck Leon..." You whimpered, watching his fingers purposely wrap around the strap of your panties, he was taking his time.

As he always did, because he wanted to make sure he gave you all the affection he could give.

As soon as their trail of kisses went down to your chest, he spared no effort in giving little kisses to your nipples, which were already hard, crying out for any kind of touch and attention.

It was more than enough for you to let out several moans and low squeaks, letting your hands nestle in his golden strands, feeling the softness they contained.

Both his hands slid under your nightgown, and before long his fingers were playing with the waist line of your panties, fingering and stretching, all the while keeping an eye on your every reaction.

The look he had in store for you was yours alone, he had never looked at anyone else like that. Nor would he ever, you were the only one capable of bringing it out of him. The only one.

Just as you never tired of looking into those gentle blue eyes, similar to the color of the sky, or even the ocean. You lost your breath every time.

And there he went, slowly dropping wet kisses over the thin fabric of your nightgown, feeling your body tremble beneath his, just as he made a point of running his fingers over the wet surface of your panties, only to give a smug smile, knowing that he could get you soaking wet for so little.

As soon as he reached your navel, he lifted your nightgown completely, exposing your lower body, which was enough for him to let out a low noise, excited by the image in front of him. Which only fueled his cock to throb even more under his pants.

"I wonder what I did to make you like this." Leon said with a sly, mischievous smile, sliding his index finger down your slit.

Did he know the answer? Of course he did. But it was nicer to hear it from your mouth, your sweet voice echoing through the room.

"You know, you just need to touch me..." You said with a pout, looking at him with piteous eyes, a look he already knew well. And yet it broke his smile every time.

"Because of me?" He purrs, pushing his fingertips against your covered pussy, teasing you as far as he can.

You whimper, spreading your legs as if it were an automatic reaction from your body. Understanding the signal, he pulls you a little closer to the edge of the bed, taking off your panties and sliding them down your legs, soon the garment was lying in a corner of the room.

You were there, completely exposed to him, legs dangling from his shoulders, clit throbbing and begging him to do something.

It felt like magic, every time he touched you he was able to drive you crazy with the smallest things. You often got wet just watching him, seeing the way the muscles in his arms flexed every time he held your legs tighter.

Or the way he always looked at you throughout the process, as he positioned his face close to your center, biting and licking your inner thigh, making sure to leave soft marks all over the area. He loved looking at the love bites the next day, not least because you looked beautiful with each one.

"You're all mine, aren't you?" He asked in a whisper, which sounded more like a question to himself. Especially because he didn't even need to hear the answer.

You were about to answer, but your mind turned to crumbs as soon as he started planting wet, caressing kisses in your folds, letting his tongue linger in certain spots.

His wet muscle slid into your wet pussy, making you arch your body and tremble under him. The tip of his tongue brushed against your clit, swirling around your sensitive part, enough for you to roll your eyes and moan a little louder.

"That's so good, so good..." You mumble, biting your lower lip to hold back your moans.

Every time he eat you out, he didn't hold back with the noises he made, he didn't even care about the slurping noises he made, or the way he did it in a completely sloppy way.

Not least because he never wasted any time, it wasn't long before he was fucking you with his tongue. Moving in and out, hitting all your sweet spots.

It didn't take long for you to be a mess, moaning and whimpering, your sounds echoing around the room. Your hands nestled in his hair, pushing his head against you, letting him get buried in your thighs.

Despite this, you couldn't help but crave his cock, a need to have it inside you, you needed him fucking you.

"Leon..." You called out, rolling your hips against his mouth, you could already feel your orgasm approaching.

He smiled sideways, kissing all over your intimate area, making a point of running his tongue over it in the process. The way he did this so masterfully left no doubt that he knew exactly what to do to bring you to the edge, he knew exactly.

As soon as he started tongue-fucking you one more time, it was enough for you to come apart in his mouth, gushing out all your climax. You could feel your body hot and bothered, your mind confused and without any other thoughts. It was surreal the way your orgasms with him were always that intense.

Just as he spared no expense in giving you sloppy, wet kisses on your wet folds, as if he were smoothing the area, taking the opportunity to clean up the mess that was between your legs. Even though he was about to make another one.

"It tastes fucking good, love." He purrs, licking his lips and lifting his head.

Having the beautiful image of you, with your legs spread, sweaty body, chest rising and falling. The way your eyelids were closed and your lips were open was more than enough to send a wave of electricity to his cock. Which, by the way, was already leaking pre-cum, the wet spot on his sweatpants was already clearly visible.

He wasted no time in removing his pants and underwear, letting his cock pop out. Which was a divine sign for you, seeing every inch of his shapely body, the way he was hard as a rock.

His cock resting in his palm, as he gave it a few small pumps, watching the precum drip down a little. Despite this, his eyes were focused on you, the way you bit your lip and stared at him.

"Please?" You ask in a whisper, spreading your legs even wider for him.

In response, he gives you a puffy smile, rubbing the tip of his cock against your clit, his sticky liquid pooling with your own juices.

You whimper and pout to get him in at once. As if on command, he obeyed, lifting your legs over his shoulder and fitting himself into you. Hissing once he was all the way in, the way your walls clenched around him was enough to elicit a grunt from him.

"So fucking eager..." He whispers in your ear, taking the opportunity to nibble on it. Making you gasp easily.

"Oh-Oh, so deep!" You moan, your nails sinking into the muscles of his back, a reaction he loved every time.

You can't say how, but he thrust into you in such a sensual way, his hips rolling with a dexterity you couldn't even describe in words. It was calm, sexy, who knows how you could describe it.

His eyes never left yours, he could reach all your weak points, all the places where he made you roll your eyes and curl your toes.

At that point, he didn't even try to understand you. Not least because you could only mumble half-words, whimpers or moans, and he couldn't have been prouder to leave you in that state. Your mind so foolish as he fucked you numb.

"Are you going to come already, love?" He asks softly, kissing your cheeks and pulling you even closer.

"Mhmhm." You hum and nod, feeling your walls tighten around him. Just like the feeling of butterflies in your stomach that you were beginning to feel.

He chuckled, speeding up his thrusts, making an even louder sound of skin hitting skin. He wouldn't be long either, he'd probably come right after you.

And there you went the moment he started making circles with his thumb on your clit, you're sure you went to heaven at the same moment.

Your lips parted only for you to let out a silent scream, a noise that came from deep in your throat. He was quick to pull you into a hot, thirsty kiss, moving at a much faster speed than before.

He wanted to get there now.

In and out he went, feeling his cock throb with each jerk of his hips. On the last thrust he came, thrusting deep, spilling all his seed into you, as deep as he could.

He let out a grunt through your lips, holding your sides tightly.

By the end you were panting, covered in a thin layer of sweat. When the kiss ended, he rested his forehead on yours, giving a silly, tired smile.

"Sore?" He murmurs under his breath, trailing kisses down your cheek.

"Maybe a little." You whisper, closing your eyes and sinking into the mattress.

He then gets off you and places you properly on the bed, rolling you under the covers, and then doing the same. He hugs you from behind and cuddles you, giving you massages in the places he knew would be sore. He loved worshiping your body, and you couldn't complain.

"I love you." He says, full of love and tenderness.

"I love you too." You return, kissing his hand.

You fell asleep a few minutes later, and he watched you sleep as always, giving you kisses and caresses from time to time.

He loved you so much he couldn't explain it, you were his comfort. Everything he needed most. You and your son were his adored little family.

And the way he loved you, he knew that you would be the death of him.

Oh God, how he loves you.

[s4lv4tions]

numerology; nsfw

pairing; gojo satoru x reader / gojo satoru x geto suguru (past) / geto suguru x reader (past) summary; numerology — the belief in an occult, divine or mystical relationship between a number and one or more coinciding events. or: trying to move on. wc; 13.4k cw; death, angst, requited unrequited love, violence, smut (at the very end, but mentions throughout), canon divergence, spoilers for manga an; if you think you've read this before, you probably have! i posted this on my old tumblr a year or so ago, and it's still available on my ao3. this version is slightly updated and edited, but still diverges from canon as it was created at the start of the culling games arc :)

1.

The first time you bathe with Satoru, he cries.

You don't notice at first; he's quiet — abnormally so —, and his face remains pristine, unchanged. The only hint you get is a small, barely audible sniffle that stops as quickly as it starts — and you think he wants it that way. You don't think he's ever cried in front of anyone.

That's why you don't say anything. Just continue washing the suds from his hair, and pretend that the tears rolling down his cheeks are beads of water dripping from his hair — but you take extra care to massage the conditioner in, and peck his cheek as you finger-comb through silky, cloud-white strands. 

It occurs to you afterwards — as he lounges on your bed, scrolling through channels with a wayward hand planted on his stomach — that perhaps, it's the first time somebody has taken care of him. The first time ever, or just the first time since… since…

Geto Suguru's face smiles up at you from your vanity — a tiny polaroid, his face no bigger than the nail of your thumb. Beside him, Satoru grins, cheeky and bright-eyed — you don't think he's ever been any different —, and in the corner, the smudge of your thumb covers the lens. You don’t have to lift the photo and check the back to know what’s written there, in your scratchy, looping scrawl; the strongest, 2006.

"Lord of the Rings?" Satoru calls, carefree as ever. A yawn catches in his throat, and his fingers slip underneath his shirt to scratch absentmindedly at his chest. "Ooh, haven't seen this one yet…"

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

It was a better time. Less pain. Less responsibility. Less death — or maybe the same amount, just shielded by the blinding cover of childhood inexperience. Suguru was still alive and burning bright, Satoru was happy (happier. He didn't cry in the bath, at least). Shoko didn’t self-medicate as intensively as she does now. The days were spent in childish ignorance and stupid indulgence, and even when things seemed their darkest, you never lost hope. 

(It probably says a lot about you that, if given the chance, you wouldn't return. Whether that's because of what you know is bound to happen, and the pain is too much to experience again, or because you're so utterly pathetic that you'll take sadness and grief and a tiny shred of affection over… whatever it is you were back then, you don't know. A smudge in the corner of a picture of the jujutsu world's greatest.)

Suguru's eyes seem to burn into you. You turn the picture over, and rejoin Satoru on your bed.

2.

"It's been two years."

Satoru doesn't like to talk after sex. Not in any way that's really meaningful, you mean, nothing that lets you in. He loves jokes, empty small talk, work politics. Chatter that's deep enough to show he cares a little without bearing any part of himself — your injury healed up? When was the last time you had a break? There's a new teppanyaki place in Shinjuku, I'll treat you. Don't work yourself too hard, you'll put me out of business! 

If you're being honest, you didn't go into this expecting anything more than a person to scratch an itch with. 

You're already friends — though, you're not sure friends totally encapsulates what Satoru is to you, romantic or platonic. You've been friends since you were 12. Satoru, Suguru, you — and then Shoko, when you all met in your first year at Jujutsu Tech. That's how it's always been.

You swear sometimes you know him better than yourself. You swear sometimes it's his voice you think with. Is that what "friends" encompasses? Somehow, it doesn't seem enough.

Whatever. The point is that your relationship with Satoru is already strong; foundations tall and proud and unshakeable. You didn't start fucking Satoru in the hopes of forming a relationship — one was already there.

It's just... Satoru is young, yes, and he enjoys flirting, but (contrary to common belief) he's not all that keen to sleep with the first person who's willing. You don’t say this with the belief that you’re special. It’s just that with work, and especially with — y'know, his… romantic history, Satoru hasn’t found the time or will to just sleep around. At least, according to him.

Sheer willpower isn't enough to make those urges go away, though, and… well, you had them too, and you were willing, and he trusts you. And you'll take anything he'll give you, really, even if it's just scraps. Even if sometimes it makes you feel worse.

Today's one of those days.

You feel sick, after. Not because of him — because of yourself. Your polaroid of Getou and any other photo he's in has been turned over, anything that could remind you of him tucked away, but — but he's everywhere today, everywhere, and you'd fucked Satoru despite it. And Satoru is covered in memories of Getou, of course. Every freckle, every shifting of muscle, every jut of bone — did Getou touch him here? Caress every bit of him he could get his hands on? Tangle his hands in his snow-white hair, breathe against his collarbone? 

When you came, you cried. Pretended it was just because it was so intense, but behind your eyelids, dark, cat-like eyes stared back.

"Hm?" Satoru hums as if he didn't hear you, eyes fixed on the TV. Dumb doesn't suit him — it's honestly a bit of an insult for him to even try it. Like you didn't sense the stiffness of his limbs the second he'd stepped inside, or the crumbling edge of his smile, or the way he'd forced you to love him harder — pull his hair harder, scratch his back deeper, his Infinity turned off and his skin yours for the marking. 

Satoru's mannerisms are scribed into your brain. You catch yourself emulating them, sometimes; hands waving, head tilting, grin wide and posture open. You wear it like an oversized coat, an ill-fitting costume, and sometimes you wish you could stop taking on pieces of him. The more you take, the more you must throw away — and it's Suguru that your memory discards. You find yourself forgetting how he hummed when he woke up from a nap, or filled his cheeks with food like a hamster; how he scrunched his face up when he laughed, pretty all the while…

The point is that even with his incredible knowledge, his awesome strength, the sheer holiness of his existence — you know Satoru. And the fact that he came to you today isn't mere coincidence.

You decide to come out with it. You've tiptoed around it for 24 months, give or take, had a shockingly brief mourning period before the jujutsu world forced you along, and… even with what he did, Suguru deserves better. "Suguru died today."

A beat of silence. Then:

"Mm, I guess he did."

You'd spent the day staring out at the grey sky, the miserable sight of soaked pavement. Grey, grey, grey. Concrete jungle. Heavy rain clouds and an ocean of multicoloured umbrellas, bobbing and rolling to destinations unknown. You hadn't said it aloud; hadn't even thought of it, specifically. The knowledge of it had just sat over your head like a thick, sweltering fog — and if you know Satoru at all, you know that he'd done the same. Maybe he hid it better.

You don't have to look now to know that his lips are pressed thin. You find the sudden thought of looking him in the eyes daunting, anyways, so you turn onto your side, back facing him, and pick mindlessly at the sheets. You don't want to see what his reaction will be when you say—

"Did you know that I loved him — back then?"

You don't want to see the shock, or the confusion — and you'd rather not see a lack of them, either. What's worse, you wonder — him knowing and loving Suguru too, or not knowing and loving him?

"...Yes."

You screw your eyes shut and try to will away the sudden surge of cold, like a sharpened dagger to your chest. 

(It turns out that knowing is much more painful.)

Suguru Geto had been the apple of your eye ever since you'd met. 11 and gangly and stupid in a way that all children were always stupid, Suguru had been a bit kinder than his white-haired counterpart. Satoru, being Satoru Gojo, had grown up with no fear of authority, no mindfulness for his less-powerful peers as anything more than people who existed around him. You and Suguru were allowed the title of friends, but very few were. Anyway — he grew out of that mindset, of course, but your fondness for Suguru stayed.

(Though they'd always seemed to be on another level than you — not even just in terms of power, but… just caught up in each other, always. Suguru had only ever wanted Satoru. And vice versa.)

And then Suguru changed. Right under your nose, he changed, and his sudden quietness made sense. His fatigue. The way his hands would always shake when swallowing an exorcised curse, always had since you were kids, and then suddenly they were ingested with a scary calm. Nobody understands the taste of curses. Not even you, not even when he’d explained it in sickening detail.

You sigh, then. Tired and lethargic and not from physically straining yourself for an hour. This is bone-deep, soul-weary. It's been held in for 730 days, or maybe more. Maybe you've carried it with you since birth. "I never apologised."

"For what?" Satoru asks — and he laughs, jolly, and the sound fits awkwardly in his throat. A clear attempt at feigning indifference, but he's a bad liar. He always has been, because he's never needed to lie. Perks of being the strongest, you guess. You can just come out and say shit — and if you can't, not saying anything technically isn’t lying. 

"I hated you, after," you confess. You dig your thumbnail hard intoyour pinky finger, taking momentary refuge in the sharp shock of pain. "I couldn't stand to look at you. When I did, I saw… I saw what you did. What you had, and what you had thrown away. I blamed you for Suguru. I blamed everyone except Suguru."

Another snicker, a bit too humourless. "You can't stand to look at me now."

"I…" You don't know what to say to that.

Truth is, you don't want to see his face. Contorted in pity, or disgust, or sadness for you. You've gotten used to living in his shadow — most everyone has — but that doesn’t ease the ever-present blanket of insecurity that you carry around your shoulders. It doesn’t dull the ache of inferiority you’ve been housing in your chest from the moment you were saddled with your technique. As you aged, you got better at hiding it, and you generally prefer your self-pity to go unnoticed, but Satoru—

He could always read you like a book. And you hated it. You hated being pitied by someone who was as powerful as him — someone as close to God as one could get. It was demeaning. Patronising. It makes you feel like a child again, bowing your head as your mother makes excuses for you.

You shift over — onto your back, and then onto your other side — and you look at him. You force yourself. Blankets pooled around his waist, his skin so pale it could be translucent, eyes icy blue and framed with fluffy white.

"You were forced to do it," you murmur. Your eyes remain trained on his chin — his are much too bright, much too all-seeing for comfort. "If you hadn't, he would've gotten worse. He never would have stopped. You knew that, you always did. It… took me a while to come to terms with it."

Satoru sighs. Then, he slumps down so that — like you — his head rests flat on the pillow, and his body arcs towards yours. He's forced himself into your sights again, in a way that’s gentle, but not so much that you wouldn't be able to figure out what he's doing: forcing you to face him.

"Would it have made you feel better," Satoru begins, reaching forward to brush his fingers against your chin, "if you were there when I did it?"

Would it have?

Would it have given you closure? Would you no longer spend your nights wondering what he'd looked like, what his last words were, his last thoughts? If he had spittled and roared in anger, if he had wept in fear, if he had attempted a smile, a joke? If he thought of you, or if you were just another insignificant blip in his radar?

In your mind, Suguru exists as his 17 year old self — smiling and mischievous, polite yet humorous. He puts extra broccoli on your plate and gently berates you to eat more. He tells you that you're a precious part of the team, that none of them would be who they are without you. He calls you crybaby because you always wear your heart on your sleeve, and tells you not to worry about things you cannot change.

Change what you can. Forget the rest and leave it to me, crybaby.

The bubbling hatred that had festered inside him has no place in your head. You want him to stay as he is, your Suguru that was never yours, shining like gold in your mind.

"No. He hated me at the end, I think," you say quietly. For a second, you dare to meet his eyes — bright and pointed in how they stare at you. You know he can see the tears that have begun to burn in your waterline, the way you ball your fists so hard you dig half-moon into your skin. He doesn’t need to be blessed with the Six Eyes to see.

"I wasn't interested in changing the world like he was, even with my Technique. That made him despise me, I think."

Satoru stares for a few more seconds. You wonder what he's thinking about. A second in your time is a lifetime in Satoru's; he must be thinking hard. 

But he blinks, at last; sighs so deeply that his chest caves in with it, before he winds an arm around your waist and pulls you close, bare chest to bare chest, only atomic space between you.

There's nothing sexual about it. You're nothing but bones and skin and blood, here. He moulds your head to his shoulder with one large hand and cocoons you in his embrace, warm. Protected. You're not sure who the action is meant to comfort.

And just when you think the conversation is over — just when minutes have passed with nothing but the sound of the TV between you both — he speaks.

"Suguru could never hate you. Trust me."

You don't want to know what that means. You're only beginning to get over it, two years later.

3.

Satoru is holding three onigiri in one hand, and two Starbucks' cups in the other — extra sugar, extra cream, extra ice, extra unicorn-marketing, just the way you both like it. 

"There she is!" Is the first thing he says as he meets you just outside the metro, grinning. 

It's sweltering hot today — the sun had risen early and would surely set late, and Satoru seems to be taking advantage of it. Gone is his Jujutsu Tech uniform and thick blindfold, but he's stuck with the all-black theme like he usually does — black jeans, black linen shirt, black socks and shoes. Even the frames of his sunglasses are black.

(Handsome. He's handsome. He's always been handsome — years later, you'd think you'd stop feeling the effects of it.) 

Lucky for him. You're not, y'know, the strongest sorcerer in the last century, so there's no leeway for you — and even in your summer uniform, the skirt and short-sleeved blouse, you're sweating. Your only respite is that the combined force of you and Satoru will mean this mission is going to be a breeze.

Satoru tsks. "Took your time. I almost ate your onigiri."

A man nearby jogs past, clearly in a rush, and Satoru has to step closer to you to avoid him. He could've stayed still. He wouldn't have touched him, anyway, with his Limitless.

"And you would've had to buy another, genius."

A pout. "You only love me for my bank account, don't you?"

(He's joking. It's a joke. 

But your hand shakes — a miniscule tremor — as you reach out to take one of the cups, and you know he sees it because he's Satoru and he sees everything. You turn away as quickly as you can, setting off in the direction of whatever place it is you're here for, and pretend that the fact that he can say it so casually doesn't kinda fucking hurt. 

(He could never say it like that with Suguru — so bluntly, so crassly. Not without softened eyes and softened smiles and a gentle tilt of his head — those are mannerisms reserved only for him, never to be seen again. Instead, you get snickers and digs in the arm and teasing pulls of your hair. Of course it’s a joke. That’s all you are.

Perhaps you should just be grateful for what you get. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a man you once loved. Perhaps you should try to stop comparing yourself to a dead man. Perhaps, in the end, you just love the pain of it all.))

"Yeah," you reply, taking a large, sugary sip. "And don't you forget it, either."

Satoru catches up to you quickly, effortlessly; his arm flops around your shoulder as he tugs you in the opposite direction, chastising you for going the wrong way — but it stays there long after it needs to.

4.

Itadori Yuuji — Sukuna's dead-but-not-really vessel — thinks your cursed technique is powerful. He thinks it’s amazing that you can use reverse cursed technique — you must be really powerful, right? Gojo-sensei says you’re special grade. He also thinks you're very pretty. He tells you this over his fourth grilled pork belly wrap — this one bursting at the seams with kimchi, garlic, and roasted sesame seeds.

He doesn't say it in a flirtatious way — it's just an observation to him, simple and blunt, and you figure he has about as much of a filter as Satoru does.

"O-oh," you say, metal tongs frozen over the sizzling meat. "Thank you, Yuuji."

You had briefly met him for the first time before his death — Nobara, too. Megumi, the third piece of the golden trio, has been something of a little brother ever since Satoru had taken him in, and you know him well enough to know that Yuuji's death (or lack thereof) is weighing on him terribly. 

(There are too many parallels you could make. Suguru and Satoru. Haibara and Nanami.)

Hiding it does make you feel guilty. To experience that grief, that loss — even if it will soon go away when Yuuji rejoins jujutsu society — isn’t something to take lightly. But Yuuji needs a guide that isn’t completely off the rails. Satoru and you balance each other out, and balance seems to be something Yuuji needs.

He reminds you terribly of Satoru when he was younger. Maybe that's why you have such a fond spot for him — he's too goofy and well-meaning and genuine to dislike.

"Why are you acting surprised?" Gripes Satoru, chewing with his mouth open. "I tell you that all the time."

Your eyes narrow. You place a perfectly cooked slice of marinated beef on his plate. "You're you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" He whines. "We're best friends, crybaby!"

"You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference. And don’t call me that."

"Is there?" Satoru asks, turning to Yuuji for guidance. The teen boy shrugs, preoccupied by assembling his newest monstrosity. "I call you pretty, too."

"Yeah, when—"

When you're eight inches deep in me, face buried in my neck, trying to get yourself off. Your cheeks flush with warmth at the thought, and you shut your mouth. Yuuji doesn't notice your slip up, busy as he is; Satoru does completely, and fixes you with a grin so sharp that you vow to not give him any more meat until Yuuji is completely full.

"It's not the same," you say, voice final. It's a lighthearted lunch. You don't want to ruin it by getting touchy over semantics, and that's exactly what'll happen if you keep going. "You say it to reward me. Like tossing a dog a bone."

You reach for the scissors to snip the meat into little pieces — and in doing so, you miss the brief frown that presses against Satoru's brow.

Neither of you say anything more on the matter.

5. 

Satoru has known you for five years when he realises that he resents you. Not completely, and not for one particular or solid reason, either. He prefers not to think about it, in any case, because you're one of his closest friends — and even at 17, he knows that that's hard to come by. Especially as the Strongest.

Satoru stares up at his ceiling; stares at the miniature striations only he can see, the starburst-shaped gyrations of clay used to finish it off. 

Tonight, he's thinking about it. And many other things.

He hates that you're so hesitant about everything — he hates that you believe yourself so weak that you have to tiptoe. You, with your reverse cursed technique — which is a feat in and of itself — that could transcend time and space, just like he could. A technique passed down for hundreds and hundreds of years, accumulating power all the while…

(Your technique has lots of rules and regulations, of course. A handicap, and he understands it frustrates you, but his own frustration eclipses his understanding. Why should someone so strong feel anything but their own strength?)

He hates that you curl in on yourself when you're sad, or lonely, or angry. He hates that you wear your heart on your sleeve — he's never allowed himself to, not fully. He can't, never fully, because there are people who are watching him, people who hate him, people who want him dead. He can joke. He can make his political desires clear — but he can’t love like he wants to, and God forbid he cries.

He hates that you close your eyes and bask when it's sunny, like a cat in a sunspot; hates that you remember that he doesn't like chicken wings and prefers thighs; he especially hates that you watch over Suguru like it's your job, when Suguru doesn't need it.

And some part of Satoru hates Suguru, too. It was strange for him to come to terms with it, fond of him as he is, but as he grows Satoru realises that there's no love of his that isn't closely affiliated with hate. It makes the love all the more strong.

Satoru, for one, dislikes how polite Suguru is, even when he doesn't need to be. He hates that Suguru becomes a straight-faced, unfeeling thing when he's upset, and tries to hide it — the emptiness in his eyes unsettles him like nothing else.

Most of all, above all, Satoru hates that Suguru loves you, crybaby, and is too pussy to do shit about it. Satoru doesn't understand why, anyways, because he'd made it clear that if he wanted, Suguru could have you both and Satoru wouldn't care. Usually, the thought would offend him. How can you love someone when you already love me? When you've already sworn yourself to me? You already have the strongest, who else do you need? 

But… he doesn't know. He kinda understands. You're precious to him, too, after all, sunflower soaking up the sun. 

Like he said: there's no love of his that isn’t closely affiliated with hate.

6.

Six and a half hours after the hours-long meeting that followed the ruined School Goodwill Event, you find yourselves in a diner somewhere in Harajuku. It’s one of those weird fusion places, loaning ornamentation and tokens from classic American diners, serving omurice with fries, sushi with mashed potatoes, with a cute little mascot that looks like Elvis. It’s loud enough and bright enough to make you feel timeless. It's a sensation you can appreciate. 

Something’s been telling you that time’s ticking, and you’re not quite sure what it is. Trauma, probably. Anxiety. The fact that curses have been banding together, learning spoken language, amassing power — planning an attack on Jujutsu Tech, gaining intelligence, gaining anger.

Satoru doesn’t say it — doesn’t want to say it — but you think it’s unnerved him, too. The last time outsiders entered school grounds was… two years ago, wasn’t it? It’s crazy. Everything always seems to lead back to Suguru.

The attack has fueled something in both of you, anyways; something that makes you both stay up instead of knocking out like you usually do; something that makes you both hungry and restless and liable to travel across Tokyo past midnight. By public transport, no less. No warping or high-speed flying for you, tonight.

But you appreciate it. And you think that Satoru is taking things slow for the same reasons you want to — to take things in, to appreciate what you never think to appreciate. To admire the mundane, even for a little while. Satoru’s less emotionally attached to the jujutsu-less aspects of life than you are — bullet trains and waiting in line and standing on the train platform, escalators and traffic — but he enjoys them all the same when he has time to. And it’s not often The Strongest gets to experience pure, genuine normality, too, so maybe sitting in this gaudy diner and watching the world pass you by is a luxury he rarely affords himself.

He orders the most complicated drink they have — a sakura-caramel milkshake topped with whipped cream, glacé cherries, and an entire slice of cheesecake. He’s down to the last dregs of melting cream within 10 minutes, swiping fries from your plate between sips, ignoring your chides of rotten teeth and high blood sugar.

Blindfold swapped for glasses. Strands of hair drifting down against his forehead. 

You’re always reminded at the worst times of how handsome he is. It’s not like it’s a secret, or he’s unaware of it — and he takes pride in his looks, if his extensive skincare shelf and general attitude is anything to go by — but he puts much more stock in his strength, in his usefulness to others, his intelligence. The things he can provide for others. Not many people realise that.

Maybe you shouldn’t act so high and mighty. It’s not like you don’t appreciate his appearance as much as the next person — hell, half the time you’re trying to stop it from distracting you — but maybe you get a pass. Y’know, as a person who actually has reason to marvel over the stretch of his neck and the flush of his cheeks and how his lips go the prettiest pink when you kiss him. Or the cords of muscle along his arms; the slender-yet-thick bands of muscle of his chest and legs. The large, veiny expanse of hand — slim, delicate fingers wrapped around a paper straw…

"Are you gonna eat those?" Says Satoru, slurping obnoxiously. “Haven't eaten since dinner."

You push the basket across the table, uncharacteristically void of argument. "Go crazy."

Satoru sets his empty glass aside, but the straw remains in one hand. The other he uses to pluck up fries, 4 or 5 at a time, his gaze suddenly fixed on you as he chews nonchalantly.

"Y'know," he says, licking salt from his fingertips, jabbing the straw in your direction, "I can always tell when you're horny."

"Excuse me?"

"You squirm," Satoru continues — matter-of-fact, casual, as if he's talking about the weather. "And you get quiet.”

“I’m a quiet person,” you snap, nails pressing against your palms under the table. “Sorry I know when to shut the fuck up—”

“And then you get flustered. And when you’re flustered, or embarrassed, you get angry.” He raises his hand — signals the cute waitress for another basket of fries, and leans back with his arms splayed along the back of the booth. “Don’t look so surprised! How long have we known each other?”

If you were a better person, you’d probably admit that yes, he’s right. You do get quiet when you’re horny, and you do get angry when you’re flustered — if you were a worse person, though, you’d remark on how you're the first person he crawls to when he’s sad, or overwhelmed. How getting you into bed and losing yourselves in each other is a sort of therapy for him. How he always tries to distract you with cheeky grins and sly, flirty comments, but then afterwards he cries in the bath as you clean him up. 

You don't say that, obviously. Seems like a pretty shitty thing to bring up today of all days. He'd probably deny it anyways, but you don't think it's a coincidence that the attack has left him restless and he obviously wants to take you home.

The new fries are delivered to the table, but he looks right past them. He bows his head slightly, glasses slipping a little further down his nose so that his white-framed eyes peek over the top of them. 

"Let's warp home," Satoru says — and oh. There's that voice. That drop in tone, that lack of boisterous humour he always employs. It's soft enough to have goosebumps rising on the back of your arms, smooth enough to have you squirming — yes, squirming, you admit it — in your seat. "Alright?"

"Yes." And it's embarrassingly breathless, and embarrassingly quick, but Satoru doesn't tease you. Just smiles, raises a hand for the bill, and watches you all the while.

7.

You count seven stitches in the forehead of Geto Suguru.

Count, because it's all you can do. Everything else is lost to you. 

Breathing.

Standing.

It feels like even your heart has stalled. Because—

Because—

Because Geto Suguru is dead. Dead, in the ground, no longer breathing, no longer living. Satoru had killed him. Satoru had demolished him.

The lips of the Geto in front of you twist — a sickening, stomach-turning imitation of the smile you once adored. On his face it's a sneer, a mockery. Your Suguru did not smile like this when you knew him.

"Hello," he greets pleasantly. His arms are hidden within the sleeves of his yukata. Hair down. Suguru always tended to wear his hair up, unless he was fresh out of the shower. Unless he was upset. It was too much hassle to take care of. You know when he took over the Time Vessel Association and donned the gojo-kesa he began wearing it down. "_____ _____, yes?"

You can't answer. Your ears are ringing. Your stomach gives a worrying lurch that winds up your throat — you think you're going to be sick. 

How? Why? Who — who is this in front of you? Because it's not Geto, not Suguru — and you don't say that because of longing or a pathetic desire for ignorance. This thing feels wrong. Inherently, blasphemously wrong. Looking at him for too long makes your cursed energy prickle. Seeing Suguru's image painted in such slimy, rancid energy has you gasping for breath.

Satoru, your mind whispers. Satoru needs to know.

He should. He needs to. But this pseudo-Geto does not look friendly in the slightest, and you are isolated.

Looking back, it had seemed fine to go alone to exorcise curses in the belly of Tokyo's metro. Taking old service tunnels and eventually entering abandoned tracks hadn't felt scary. You're a semi-special grade sorcerer with years of experience under your belt and a powerful cursed technique that could get you out of most, if not all, pinches, restrictions and regulations be damned.

"I'm sure you're very confused. I apologise, really…"

The reality of the situation hits you. Maybe hit is the wrong word — it doesn’t come as a bloody, stinging smack in the face. It’s a trickle of ice-cold water down the nape of your neck, drawing dread from your head all the way into the pit of your stomach. You don't think this is a pinch you'll come out of — at least not battered half to death, especially when a silver-haired curse decorated with stitches steps out from behind pseudo-Geto. The curse Kento had fought. The one that he said to look out for. Patchwork.

Immediately, you know fighting isn't an option. But what else is there to do, in the face of pseudo-Geto and his silver-haired, sentient curse? Your technique may not be limitless in your possession, but in theirs? If they did to you what they did to so many others — transfiguring you past the point of recognition, stealing your body and technique, desecrating your corpse with cursed energy…

"I can feel it from here," titters the curse excitedly. "So warm… I have to have it! Her soul, I have to have it!"

Fuck.

You could try to escape, but you wouldn't have enough time to run past them and through the winding corridors of the underground, even while distracting them with your cursed technique. They'd catch you within seconds. You’re sure they have curses lurking around waiting to thwart you, too.

You could burst directly into the layers of concrete and metal above — use your technique to revert them back millions and millions and years to their very first forms, atoms and subatomic particles, and then rebuild them up as an ascending platform — but that would take too much time, and you'd be completely defenceless while you did. Not to mention the toll it'd take on you.

(Not to mention the fact that you'd be bursting into the public eye from a giant crater in the ground.)

"I'm sure you know what I'm going to do," continues pseudo-Geto, amiable. "I would ask you to join us, but I know that is impossible. Therefore, there is only one course of action."

Can't fight. Can't escape. Can't get answers. Can't stay clueless. How contradictory.

You're not dying, that's all you know. And if you have to do the one thing you never wanted to do, then so be it. Anything is better than death. Death is not an escape, in this scenario — it’s a guarantee of imprisonment.

"It's a shame," pseudo-Geto sighs, bloodlust swelling. "Such a waste of a good technique."

You make a Binding Vow with yourself within seconds.

Using a magnitude of cursed energy usually out of your reach, your entire body will be reduced to atoms — intangible, untrappable, unkillable — for as long as it takes to retreat to safety. In return, you will be unable to think, unable to move according to your own will, only a mere pawn to entropy as the rest of the galaxy is — high risk, high reward.

There are many things that could go wrong.

In reducing yourself to essentially nothing, in splitting your cursed energy into billions of particles, you could reach a state of such low cursed energy concentration that you are, for all terms and purposes, considered dead. In doing so, your Binding Vow could break, and you would be unable to return to living. 

Or you could float for days, weeks, years — safety is subjective, subjective is dangerous when it comes to contracts, and you can only hope that your own understanding of it sets the standard.

It's either this, this fleeting, terrifying chance, or death. With one, you can return to your school, your students, your Satoru — you can tell them what happened. You can bring justice to whoever has disturbed Suguru from his slumber. With the other — nothing. Just plain, utter nothingness forever and ever.

(You know which you'd rather.)

The last thing you recall, in spotty haziness, is the heart-stopping sight of Suguru surging towards you, eyes bloodthirsty, face contorted in malice. 

The last thing you hope is that Satoru isn't too upset about the risk you've taken.

8.

Eight days after your solo mission, you resurface — a discombobulated, stumbling mess on the outskirts of Shibuya, eyes glazed and mouth stuttering over syllables. A nearby Window calls the college within seconds, and Gojo is there just as soon — hands shaking when he grasps your arm and turns you to face him, fingers trembling when he cups your cheeks and brushes them under your eyes.

It’s you. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you, and he can breathe, he can fucking breathe, his chest is lighter than it’s been for those entire 8 days — all the while, he burns with an anger so intense it hurts. And Satoru is no stranger to anger, of course — knows it as intimately as he knows himself — but he's not sure if he can remember the last time it had rendered him breathless, trembling. Bloodthirsty.

It's not the time to think about it. Not when you're shaking in his arms, so frail and weak everywhere except your hands — no, your hands remain strong, fingers digging into his clothes and skin. He turns off his Infinity. The sting of your touch grounds him.

Shoko is already waiting in the clinic for him — she’d been preparing ever since the call first came in. The students (the ones on campus, at least) crowd together at a distance, buzzing anxiously as Satoru disappears swiftly into the depths of the infirmary with you in his arms.

Bad things happen often. Too often. Satoru isn’t sure whether it’s a good thing or a bad thing that they haven’t gotten used to it yet.

“Gibberish,” Satoru answers when Shoko asks if you’ve said anything competent since he picked you up. “Just gibberish.”

Shoko is poking and prodding you with the usual doctor's shit — stethoscopes and thermometers and that blood pressure band that goes around your arm — and you just lay there and take it. Head rocking side to side, limbs trembling, mouth lolling open, and Satoru's trying not to lose his head because what good is taking your temperature? Do you look like you have a fucking cold? Is the way your eyes focus and unfocus normal? The way you can’t string together two syllables that make fucking sense?

But even with how he can see your cells malfunctioning all over your body, Shoko knows more about this shit than him. So he sits pretty on her swivelling chair, twisting back and forth, body the image of boredom but mind anything but. Time and time again, he’s reminded of how unprejudiced tragedy is — how it leaves no hint, no mark of itself, no time to prepare for the toll of it all. 

Satoru had greeted you briefly before you’d left. Said something about getting lunch together, that you better be careful because you were treating him — the same shit he said time and time again, his real plea hidden within the folds and twists of his jokes and quips. Be careful. Don’t die. I can’t lose you. You’re precious to me.

You’ll be okay. You have to be — he won’t allow anything otherwise. But if he’d known last week that you’d end up like this, would he have said those things out loud? He doesn’t think so. He’s cowardly in that way.

A few moments later, Shoko straightens up. Immediately reaches into the pocket of her lab coat and pulls out a cigarette and a rusting lighter, and is puffing out clouds of bitter air just seconds later. 

Shit. That’s not a good sign.

Shoko sighs. Rubs at her dark undereye circles and only makes them worse, taps her cigarette so that the ash falls to the floor. “I know what it is.”

Well fucking tell him instead of keeping it in!

“Oh?” Satoru says instead, leaning forward onto his knees. “What is it, then?”

“She used her technique on herself.”

“She does that all the time to heal."

“She didn’t heal herself,” Shoko snaps — and Satoru remembers that he’s not the only person you’re important to. That while he and Suguru had gotten ahead of themselves being the strongest, they’d left you and Shoko to stroll humbly along your own paths. The only girls in their year. The only person Shoko could fully confide in, really — at least in Tokyo —, the only person who had bothered to check up on her when she drank too much, smoked too much. Even if Shoko hated it. 

Shoko is upset. Satoru doesn't what to do with it.

(Alcohol — she likes alcohol. Satoru reminds himself to pick up the most expensive bottle of the stuff the next time he's out.)

(No. She’s trying not to drink so much, isn’t she?)

(Whatever. Life is short.)

“She dissipated herself.”

Satoru knows about your technique intimately enough that it immediately gives him pause — but he runs over the details in his head, just in case, as if it isn’t already imprinted on the flesh of his skull.

Your cursed technique allows you to disassemble items down to their most basic units — subatomic particles — while your reverse cursed technique allows you to reassemble them. Items can be reassembled into their previous form, or to another related form, but you cannot exceed the item’s natural entropy threshold. If you do, the item cannot be reverted back to a physical state, and you will bear the brunt of the resulting shift in energy.

It's a finicky technique. Finicky and fickle and the risks tend to outweigh the rewards — but you'd always used it so elegantly, so gracefully. Even when you doubted yourself, you had a handle on it. Satoru admired that about you.

("You don't say I'm powerful. You say I'm helpful. There's a difference."

You'd said that to him once, when he brought you and Yuuji to lunch. You'd acted like it didn't bother you but he could tell it did — he didn't need his Six Eyes to notice how your nose twitched and your eyes narrowed, displeased. 

But Satoru believes in two types of helpfulness. 

The kind he is — powerful, needed, a force to be reckoned with. Someone that keeps things afloat, that acts as a beacon in the dark.

Then there's the other kind. The usefulness of pawns, of bait. Necessary, but not fundamental. Desired, sure, but rarely crucial.

You've always been the first. Always. You and him and Suguru and Shoko, always. Even he could admit that.)

You disassembled yourself into atoms. Into nothingness. You lost your mind, your body, your energy, everything—

Satoru sighs. He's been doing that a lot today.

“I didn’t know she could do that,” Satoru says. His throat is covered in a layer of sawdust. He can’t remember the last time he had to actually focus on not throwing up. “Why would she do that?”

“She talked about it, before,” Shoko says. She leans against the bed you’re laying on, gazing over her shoulder — and the way she looks at you turns his stomach, the upturn of her brows, the sad downturn of her mouth. It’s as if you’re already dead. As if she’s looking at a living corpse. “Just… as a theory. A last resort to help her get away, if needed, but—”

“But what?”

“She knew she didn’t have the power for it,” Shoko mutters. Breathes another puff of cigarette smoke. “If she tried, she'd end up just… fading away. In breaking herself up, she'd negate the cursed energy that gives her the power to put herself together.

"And the side effects would be… well, you can see that for yourself. Stupid, so fucking stupid…”

“Well, obviously she has the power for it,” Satoru murmurs. “Or made the power for it.”

“A binding vow?”

Satoru shrugs. Clenches his jaw, watching as you scratch at the faux-leather underneath you. “It'd make sense. Explains how she put herself back together."

(But for what? What could have driven you to such lengths? 

A curse like Jogo wouldn't be all too difficult for you to defeat.

So who…?)

Shoko hums. She stares into space for a moment, eyes unfocused, and for a moment Satoru sees her younger self — the one who just started smoking, just started drinking, who carried the weight of all the people she healed (and those she'd failed to) tucked in her pocket. The Shoko that would make sarcastic quips and humble them when they needed humbling, but humour them when she knew the outcome would be funny.

A time when they had very little responsibility. Even him, shackled with it since birth. Comparing his duty from then to now is like comparing a boulder to the weight of the world.

He feels very old, suddenly, at 28.

"There's nothing I can do for her," Shoko says, softly. Regretfully. "If she did make a binding vow, I can only assume she made a condition about returning to normal. If so…"

Satoru can’t do anything about it, basically, she explains. Your condition is one that will only heal with time, patience, and the odd boost from Shoko’s technique. Maybe, she says — she's still unsure about that last bit.

It sickens him. It festers as a deep, curdling annoyance in his bones, his uselessness. It’s a sensation he had only felt once before, standing before the slumped-over body of Geto Suguru. Nothing he could do for him except put him out of his misery, and even then that felt like a cop-out.

So… he can't go directly after the thing that had forced your hand, because they had left no trace. He can't heal you, either. He can't take care of you while your body repairs itself, while your supposed binding vow returns you to your rightful state — that duty will fall to Shoko, or one of her interns. 

He can do nothing. And Satoru is nothing if he cannot be of use.

9.

Nine months after the events of the culling games, Satoru enters your room to see you sitting up — eyes wide, eyes seeing, and it only takes you fixing him with a single look to know that you're okay. 

(Subjectively. Relatively.)

Suguru Getou — Kenjaku — is finally dead — exorcised. He’s not sure which is the right word to use. All of his allies, killed or exorcised too. Nanami, murdered. Nobara, comatose. Yaga, dead. Inumaki, Maki, Okkotsu, maimed; the great houses of sorcery destroyed and rebuilt in the image of Satoru’s will. 

Itadori Yuuji — dead. Sukuna Ryomen — exorcised.

Adding up the gains, subtracting the losses, carrying the ones… Both sides seem to have lost pretty evenly. And he should be happy about it, too; things could have turned out much worse. And they would have, too, if he hadn’t pushed himself out of his pouting and escaped the prison realm — a feat that was half out of spite and half concern for the outside world, and maybe a little curiosity. Rage. Longing to see the bastard who’d stolen Suguru’s face and body, who dared to reanimate him and rouse him from peace — longing to slaughter the thing that had rendered you bedridden and half-mad for months.

He had been the one to kill Kenjaku. It only felt right to be the one to do so — he’d killed Suguru, after all; had been the one to leave him defenceless and open to manipulation. If Suguru hadn’t been dead, Kenjaku wouldn’t have been able to steal his body. 

Of course, Satoru ignored the fact that the very last rotten, desperate dregs of Suguru would have enjoyed Kenjaku’s plan — it was the only way he was able to keep his eyes open when he blasted his brain to bits. It was hard enough the first time.

All of these things sit on his tongue, bitter and souring and curdling — every detail of the battle, of the culling games, the colleagues and peers and students he’d held in his arms, the ones he’d comforted as they slipped away, the ones he’d reassured and promised. 

(Pink, blood-covered hair; a smile that never dimmed, a nervous murmur (“It’s okay, Gojo-sensei. I know what I got into.”). The shaky laugh that had followed.)

Satoru’s hands tremble at his sides.

Your eyes are wet with tears when you look at him. 

“How long has it been?” You croak — voice dry and cracked with disuse, whining in some parts, low and wheezing in others. Bone-deep, the fear in your voice, and for good reason — things had already been at a boiling point when you’d been taken down. Everything had moved past you. “Satoru—?”

Another selfish decision on his part: he doesn’t tell you. At least, not now, when the words threaten to vomit out of his mouth, when the pain is suddenly too fresh and too raw. 

(For one strange, too-long second, he’s reminded of his mother — weak, presence-less, powerless as she was. Empty-eyed and unhappy. She was hardly even a mother with the amount of governesses he had.

Somehow, though, every problem would seem worse when her eyes were upon him; every cut and bruise was more painful; every slight against him a grave insult; every mistake a cause for self-pity and temper tantrums — and none of it mattered, as long as she took him into her arms.

A rarity, yes, but… maybe one of the only fond memories he has of his childhood in the Gojo household.

Satoru feels like a kid again — suddenly sniffling from a bruise he swore didn’t hurt, his mother ready to pat his head and baby him and coo his name. Satoru. Not Gojo-sama.)

He crosses the room and plants himself upon your bed and takes you into his arms for the first time in months, and—

And for the first time since Yuuji’s death, since Nanami’s, since Suguru’s, since your injuries—

He cries. Openly. Heaving, chest-wrecking sobs; red, wet nose and ugly whimpers. It’s overwhelming. It’s cathartic. It makes the pain worse, for a second, before it begins to taper out in a bruising wave; with it, he remembers his darling underclassmen who died, his colleagues that he’d wanted to live at least a few more years; he remembers that despite years of being told so, he’s not God — he couldn’t stop Yuuji’s death, or Suguru’s, or Toge losing his arms, or—

“Thirteen months,” he manages to get out. “Thirteen months — you couldn’t talk, or move properly, or—”

Satoru grabs handfuls of you — hair, waist, belly, it doesn’t matter. He can feel you beneath his skin. Rushing, pounding blood, cells, micromolecules — and he doesn’t need to, but he engages his Six Eyes for a moment — actually engages them, doesn’t let them run unconsciously in the background. It’s a comfort to let himself see each receptor interact with each signal on each plasma membrane, to let himself see the tissues that formed organs that formed organ systems forming you, breathing, living, sentient—

He kisses you — or you kiss him, he’s not sure — but it’s far more intimate, far more tender than any touch he’d delivered unto you; hands clutching the sides of your face, your fingers digging into his wrists. You’re crying, salt on his tongue — and he only knows they’re not his own tears because you give a great, shuddering sob when you part, trembling like a leaf in the wind. 

“I had to,” you gasp, and he wants to tell you that he knows, he knows, he doesn’t blame you, sweet girl — did what you had to do to live, to survive— “I had to—”

“Only go where I can follow, okay?" His eyes are burning again, voice cracking with the promise, regardless of the fact that he’d rather you do it 100 times over than die. But it's the only way he can tell you he loves you without telling you he loves you, and he can't remember the last time he said the words aloud.

(He does. He remembers. And he remembers that Suguru wouldn't mind if he said it to you — that Suguru loved you as he loves you. And he remembers that Suguru is dead and doesn't have an opinion anymore, so it really doesn't matter, anyways.)

Satoru calls Shoko when he rights himself, barely pulling back from your embrace to text her something barely understandable and hurried. You don't say much while he does; still acclimating to being aware, being awake — he catches you with your eyes screwed shut and your nose buried in his jacket, fingers tight on his arms again. Grounding yourself. Reminding yourself that you're alive, and with him.

Shoko scolds you between rummaging around for a thermometer and scribbling your prescription in messy, barely legible cursive — calls you a dumb bitch for doing what you did, tells you that you owe her a bottle of wine and a trip to a fancy hot spring, and it all seems a little lighter.

(She cries a little — if the slight glassiness of her eyes can be considered crying. Satoru only teases her a bit for it, though you're quick to mention how he'd blubbered like a baby when he saw you, and he's humbled quickly.

It's the most normal he's felt in weeks.)

Shoko clears away after a few hours — gives you strict orders to rest, and sends him a knowing look that he's not all too sure of the meaning of. 

"You look tired, Satoru," you finally say when you're alone again. Your smile is sad, knowing, and Satoru curses it all. You deserve a grace period, a moment of ignorance before the grief settles in. "What happened?"

But when have you ever wanted a moment of ignorance? When has he ever been able to hide the truth of things from you? When have you ever been anything but his equal, his confidant?

"Everything," Satoru says. A short, humourless laugh punctuates his single-worded sentence. "Everything, crybaby. Everything that we thought could happen, and everything we thought couldn't."

A flicker of a smile — uncomfortable, flat. Your eyes flicker down to the bland, starched sheets of the hospital bed. "Did you see him?"

He doesn't need you to elaborate. There's really only one person you both mean when you say him.

"Yes."

"Who was he?"

Satoru shifts in his seat. "An ancient sorcerer named Kenjaku. His cursed technique allowed him to transplant his brain between bodies and possess them."

"And he chose Suguru."

"Yes. And many others, too."

"And you killed him."

"Yes. For Suguru, and for you. But mostly for Suguru.”

“I’m glad,” you say, but your fingers twist the sheets tightly. “When I saw him, I was angry. So angry, I… I wanted to kill him. I knew I wasn’t strong enough, and I knew he would kill me, but for a second—”

He understands. God, does he understand. “You wanted to take the risk.” No matter the cost, no matter the damage to your own body. Anger like that consumes.

“I did.” You swallow. Your eyes meet his. “It was like… adding insult to injury. As if it’s not enough that Suguru is dead, but this — this Kenjaku has to puppeteer him too. Disturb his peace."

The wind rustles the trees outside. The late-afternoon gold of the sun settles along the horizon, a burning orange that stretches the shadows and warms the wind and turns the side of your face honey-soft and sad.

“But I realised that I was probably the first person he’d revealed himself to," you continue, "so I was the only one that could warn you."

Always thinking about the good of others. It was another thing he admired about you — Nanami, too. Satoru, for all his big talk about changing the world of jujutsu, about being better than those who came before him, is really quite selfish. 

It's why his hands had trembled when he'd had to kill Yuuji. It's why he couldn't put Suguru in the ground the first time they met after he became a curse user. Even when he knows things are necessary, he tries his damnedest to hold on — just for the chance of it all. The chance that Suguru could change his mind. The chance that Sukuna could be removed from Yuuji without him needing to die. 

"And…”

One snow-white brow raises. “And?”

“You’ve already lost too many people that you love,” you say simply, shrugging — like it's a simple fact, no need for experimentation, no need for an academic paper complete with its own abstract and footnotes. Like you've always known, in some little way, but you're only able to bring yourself to say it now.

And Satoru — well, it's no secret to him, is it? He's known it since he was 13, 14, 15 — had a bit of a buffering period, sure — and now here at 28, he knows it just as well. The point is that you're not supposed to know. Not while you're still healing from Suguru and… being attacked by fake-Suguru.

Regardless of what he knows and how long he's known it, Satoru feels his throat begin to close up, twisting and turning and holding his breath tight. He doesn’t like the feeling.

“Love?” He echoes. His voice has gotten a little empty. It's too soon for him to say it aloud, he thinks. It was okay when he whispered it in his head after making love to you; it was easy when he grinned at your scrunched up nose and scoffed comments and thought fuck, I love you. It was easy when he could pretend it was a simple, passing comment, a trick of the mind — but having it said as fact? 

Not so simple. But you don’t need to know that. “Is that so?"

You don't seem to notice his momentary pause — a lifetime of rambling in his time, a second's hesitation in regular time — too busy staring at the space where his fingers stretch apart over the sheets. Just inches away from yours. "We're friends, aren't we?"

Oh.

"Oh." Satoru blinks back. "Oh, yeah. Best friends, you and I, crybaby."

"I know it's normal for us," you say, ploughing ahead, "to just lose and lose and keep losing, but… I'll be honest. I never fully got used to it, and I don't want to."

He wishes he could say the same, but he can't.

He understands, in some capacity. Nobody wants to see the people around them die, a continuous and vicious cycle. Nobody wants to get so used to loss that most funerals no longer hold any emotional significance. But getting used to it had saved him. Getting used to it helped him act without consequence, without remorse, and that's what the battlefield both needs and requires of him.

He could count on both hands the people he wants to save in this world — about half of them were dead, at this point. A lot of them died while he was imprisoned. Two, he had to kill himself. He swore he'd protect the rest with all Six Eyes, every non-existent boundary of his Limitless.

So Satoru doesn't care much about getting used to death and dying and loss and grief. As long as you're okay, he's okay. As long as his job as the Strongest is done, everything is as it should be.

He doesn't say that to you, of course. You'd probably curse him out and call him a heartless bastard. Instead, he nods, hums and agrees and tells you the names of those who died when you work up the courage to ask.

It's a long night. It's an even longer list.

10.

Shoko keeps you for observation for 10 days after you wake up — three days longer than necessary, but she won't hear it from him, no matter how many times he reminds her that technically she falsified her degree—

He's joking. Mostly.

Satoru volunteers himself to help you back home, taking with you the plastic bag filled with your cleaned sorcerer's garb and weapon. He carries it over his shoulder along with two teddy bears, a half-wilted bouquet of tulips and a half-eaten box of chocolates (all courtesy of the second years — except for the chocolates, which are half-eaten because of him). He winds his other arm around your waist even though you can walk perfectly fine, but — it's just in case. Purely precautionary. For once, you don’t argue about being babied.

In the midday sun outside, you tilt your head back and close your eyes and smile. For a moment, it's as if the sadness has melted away from you — the tears you shed over Yuuji, Nanami, Suguru. The tears you shed over him, and he wasn't even dead. Satoru is glad your eyes are closed — even beneath his sunglasses, it's painfully obvious that he's staring.

You decide to take the subway home — it's my first time outside in almost a year, you remind him, so he pushes down any arguments he might have and enjoys the too-cramped journey towards Akihabara. You’re both shoved standing together, between a panicked looking man holding a tray of coffee and a woman with her child hanging about her legs, your head bobbing against his chest as the train moves. 

For a moment — as the train passes momentarily out of the underground and becomes encapsulated in light — it's easy to drown in the normalcy of it all. For a moment, he sees himself looking in as a stranger would. Here, he isn't the Six Eyes; just a simple man taking his girlfriend home, standing close on the train, wishing to be closer. Riding home to your shared apartment where he'll peel oranges and feed them to you, where he'll lay his head in your lap and hold your hands to his heart.

His nose wrinkles. He prefers reality, he thinks, where he can be powerful and have you by his side; where he can protect you, uphold peace, change the jujutsu world for the best — and then go home all the same, and have you to hold.

"What are you thinking about?" You mumble against his collar.

"Oranges," he replies.

"I don't have any at home," you say, "or if I did, they're rotted."

"Don't worry — we cleaned your kitchen up. Me and the kids." It was an afternoon of Yuuji attempting to shove rotting potatoes in Nobara's face. That was before Shibuya; before everything, really.

"Oh? You got your hands dirty?"

Satoru tries to not think about that same beaming, smiling Yuuji's last breaths. "Of course! This is me we're talking about, honey. I was front and centre."

You snort, soft against his neck. It's a wonder he went almost a year without you. "Housewife Satoru. I'll keep it in mind."

When you return to your apartment, you shower together for the first time in forever. He spends extra time and care massaging shampoo into your scalp, detangling each knot; spends extra time rinsing the suds out, tilting your head back with a gentle tap to your chin. 

Steam clogs his mind. Almond shower oil and citrusy shampoo fog his senses. The realisation that you could have potentially been taken away from him sits heavy like a stone in his stomach — why it hadn't sunk in in the past, oh, 13 months or so, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he's terribly bad at caring for precious things — but if he could, if it's possible, he'll remould and reshape his hands, his heart, his mind, just for the chance—

"Satoru," you breathe against his lips, "Bow your head."

(Bow your head, you say. He'd kneel if you asked him to.)

You brush your hands through his hair; rinse him free of suds and bubbles and kiss his temples as you shut off the water. What is supposed to be healing for you is quickly becoming therapy for him — muscles relaxing, mind clearing of all responsibilities, mournings, obligations. All he knows are the soft, newly washed sheets beneath him and your nose in the crook of his neck.

It's a strange sensation, the lack of tension, his brain not working overtime. But hardly unwelcome.

11.

Satoru asks you if you saw anything when you were indisposed. Memories, flashbacks, prophecies? Blurry half-truths, nonsensical babbling? You tell him that you can't really remember — and you can't, not really, but you do remember one thing.

When you were 11, you met Satoru and Suguru for the first time. It's that memory that you can remember playing in your head, over and over and over again: Satoru and Suguru, scrawny and still-faced in their yukata. 

Satoru was from a great, traditional house. Suguru was not, but upon discovery of his powers, was taken into unofficial custody of the higher-ups. In most circumstances, you wouldn’t have been allowed within two feet of them — but the elders had deemed your cursed technique a great gift, and so you were warily accepted into the upper echelons of jujutsu society, a stranger, a foreigner.

Introducing you to the most powerful sorcerers your age was nothing more than political play, of course. The adults followed behind as you walked through the grand grounds of the Gojo family — (maintained by a team of 12 gardeners, according to the Lady of the house) — muttering and scheming between themselves, making sure nothing would go awry.

Nothing did, of course. Satoru picked his nose and Suguru told him it was rude and they bickered for a while — Satoru bickered, Suguru replied calmly and quickly. Satoru asked you if your technique was good or bad ("No such thing," interjected Suguru) and whether or not you think you could beat him in a fight. 

(That last question was to stroke his own ego, of course. Everyone knew he was the strongest sorcerer born in the last century.)

At some point, Satoru made you cry. 

You can't remember what about, all these years later — you'd think you'd remember, considering the fact that you know the amount of gardeners employed by the Gojo estate — but you know that you had tried to stop it; fists balled, teeth gritted, full-body heaves. Crying was the last thing you had wanted to do. Crying meant weakness. Weakness meant being taken advantage of.

But you were so scared. It was all so alien. You wanted to go home, but home didn’t exist anymore. You wanted your mother, but your mother was long gone. All you had left were stone-faced adults that were only interested in your abilities. 

Suguru had been confused at your reaction to what he took as a harmless quip — a little callous, as most children are — but he had reassured you nonetheless.

"Don’t cry. Satoru speaks before he thinks," he'd said, nudging your shoulder. "Sometimes you have to ignore him and he'll be so bored that he has to think."

"I can hear you," Gojo huffed. "I didn't mean to."

"See?" Suguru smiled. "Works like a charm."

Yes, Suguru had always been there to protect you. Emotionally, at least. He was willing to be kinder to people. More gentle, more forgiving. He'd believed that it was his duty as a sorcerer to protect those that couldn't protect themselves, and—

Well. That had changed, by the end, but having that memory replay in your head made you see the bigger picture of it all. Suguru's place in things. Your place in things.

You'd loved Suguru, no doubt. And you’ll probably always carry a piece of him with you — you'd hate to do otherwise. You’ll carry his kindness and his jokes and his catlike smile, all tucked away in bubble wrap somewhere in your chest cavity — but you will never disregard his wrongdoings. Since his death, you'd argued against the two sides of him; felt guilty for loving him after what he did, felt guilty for hating him after loving him and knowing him for as long as you did. Two halves of a whole. Darkness in light and light in darkness.

He was both of those things. You love him, but you don’t forgive him, and you probably never will. He will never again be the boy that comforted you after Satoru made you cry; he will never again be the boy who let you braid his hair back. He won't be the boy who slaughtered innocents, either — death's funny like that. Indiscriminately doing away with both the good and the bad.

And that's okay. Kenjaku is dead, after all, and Suguru can finally rest — and with him, your warring mind.

12.

Midnight strikes and you're still awake. You don’t even seem tired, and that's after a long shower and takeout and a movie. Usually you'd be a drooling mess by now, but tonight is different. Feels different. Satoru isn’t sure if it's just a year's worth of built up sexual tension or something else, but he feels it regardless. 

He's flopped on his stomach, hair still damp; you're curled up in the shape of a C, skin reflecting the light of the TV. He might visit Nobara tomorrow. Megumi usually goes on Wednesdays, too — they could make a day out of it, and you could tag along, too. He's got a craving for the pistachio macarons they sell near—

"I'm in love with you," you announce. 

Satoru doesn't bother asking you to repeat yourself because he knows he didn’t mishear. It isn't the knowing that shocks him — he's not stupid, and you wear your heart on your sleeve — it's the sudden, quick verbal affirmation of it that catches him off guard. After all, haven’t you two been putting this all off? Yearning for a dead man? Being pulled from two opposing poles?

He turns his head towards you, opens his mouth to ask you just that, and—

"After Suguru, I thought I'd never be happy again," you say, and you’re smiling like you didn't just say something inherently heartbreaking. But no, you look fond — content, even, blinking slowly at him. "And I thought I'd never feel for someone as strong as I did for him. But here I am: happy, and in love, and okay."

Satoru opens his mouth — then closes it quickly. For some reason, he remembers something Suguru said to you when you were younger: "Satoru speaks before he thinks." But he wants to think about this — about what he should say. How does he respond to you quite literally baring your heart to him? How does he tell you what he wants to tell you, what you deserve to hear? He's never been good with real, genuine words — emotional shit never came easy to him out loud. His thoughts are much more concise than his mouth is, but he guesses it's because it moves so fast in comparison.

Pity you can't read his mind. It'd make things much easier. 

“You don’t have to say anything,” but he wants to, don't you know? "You don't have to pretend. It’s okay. I know that… maybe you don’t love me as much as you loved Suguru, but I know you love me in some way, at least—”

Satoru frowns — strings of ideas and thoughts bunching up and stopping short as your words register. “As much as I— hey, stop putting words in my mouth—"

"The truth is," you continue on, "I feel lighter than I have in years. I don't dread life so much anymore. I don't dread you anymore."

"You… dreaded me?"

You hum. Your legs stretch down, arms forward, face scrunched up in a passing yawn. "I'm not stupid to think you didn’t know how I felt, but… I hated that I was so obvious about it. Even when I was fighting with myself about it, I was obvious. It made me hate being around you, sometimes."

You sigh, then — not as heavy and melancholy as they used to be, no. This is a sigh of relief, of cathartic release. 

Satoru blinks, and attempts to wade through the seventy-or-so compulsions telling him to make a joke, to laugh, to tease you. Maybe he should actually be serious for once. Say it straight and say it firm, so you can't take anything the wrong way. If there was ever a time for him to not beat around the bush…

"I've liked you since I was 17," he confesses, finally. "Me and Suguru, we were together, y’know, and we were happy. And Suguru loved you, and somewhere along the line I… began to do the same, but we were so young and then… Everything changed so fast. Everything broke so fast.”

Your fingers brush against his, and he breathes in a sigh. Your eyes are wide and watery, low light reflecting like glitter in your eyes. 

"Sometimes, it keeps me up at night," Satoru says, laughing a pained sort of laugh. "Out of everything, that's what keeps me up — that we could've been happy together, all three of us. It never would’ve been enough to make him change, but…"

At least you would’ve known what it was like. To be happy together in that way. To be content. To find your places in the world, hand and hand. To know what it was like — even if Suguru’s fall from grace was inevitable — so you wouldn’t have to keep wondering until your untimely, gruesome, sorcerer-style deaths, or whatever. 

Back then, Satoru didn’t understand why Suguru never told you how he felt. He couldn't understand how he could be content watching from afar, looking but never touching. What Satoru wanted, he learned to take; the Strongest didn’t need to ask for permission, only forgiveness. 

He learned quickly that some things were better left unsaid. And now, 28 years old, half of his friends, students, colleagues dead — he understands even more. 

He remembers how Yuuji had tried to stave off tears when he realised he had to die; remembers how his student’s throat had felt being crushed in his hands. He loved Yuuji like a little brother. Like a son, even. He was family. He was his student, and yet his death had been necessary, and Satoru battled with it. It allowed him to succeed in the mission he was born to complete. But he had given up Yuuji in return.

There is no curse more twisted than love.

Therein lays the problem, he supposes. The second you love someone, you run the risk of having them end up like Yuuji did. Like Suguru did. Like Nanami did. When you are burdened with incredible power like Satoru is — like Suguru was — you must be able to sacrifice for it. The closer that people are, the more likely they are to be caught in the crossfire, the more likely you are to be hurt. Suguru hoped to avoid that at all costs. It was easier to watch from afar, less painful. 

Satoru is a tad more selfish. Which is bad, he knows, because he's too prepared to sacrifice. Even now. Even now, he knows that if caught between saving you and saving society, he would be forced to — to—

Satoru inhales. The only thing for it is to simply stop things from getting that far. 

He could explain all this to you. He could talk circles around you about it, in fact, but the truth is that it's all conjecture. Suguru isn’t here to tell him why he did what he did. He can’t speak for him, no matter how well he knew him.

"I don't know why Suguru never told you," Satoru says instead. He folds his fingers tighter, taking yours in his grip as he does so. "Guess that's something he took with him to the grave."

"I've stopped wondering," you say. “I’ll never stop regretting, but I’ve stopped wondering. I can’t stay rooted in the past any more. It was doing more harm than good."

And you raise your interlocked hands — nestle them under your chin and screw your eyes shut, like you're wishing on the evening star, like he's something precious to be treasured. All of a sudden he's 17 and confused about why he can't stop staring at you. He doesn’t have Suguru to tease him about it, now.

“I’ll never forget him,” Satoru announces — a warning, or a reassurance, he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he’s telling the truth and nothing but the truth, and whether or not you like his truth is not his concern. He respects you too much to lie about this to you.

Your lips twitch upwards, a phantom of a smile. “Neither will I. "

"I'll never forget you, either."

The smile grows, blooms, blossoms, until it stretches bright and full across your face. The first smile of yours he's seen in a while that wasn't at half-mast, or tinged with sadness, or pain, or fatigue.

"How lucky I am," you whisper, "to be known by you, Gojo Satoru."

It should be the other way around, he thinks.

(12.5.

It's the first time he makes love in years.

Satoru has always fucked you. Always. No matter how tired you both were, no matter how injured — he'd always force himself to be rougher, force his touches to not linger as much as he wanted them to.

If he felt too much, he'd crack a joke instead of drowning in it; if he felt his eyes beginning to burn he'd bury his nose in the crook of your neck and push it down. If he thought of long, dark hair and cat-like eyes, he'd tighten your grip in his hair and the shock of pain would clear his mind. He fucked quick, and when he was done he'd lay far away enough that he couldn't feel your skin against his.

Tonight, he lets himself love and be loved again. 

You're on top of him, ass flush against his thighs, taking every inch he has to give you; his hands have found your jaw, thumbs brushing back and forth across your dewy, sweat-slick cheeks. One hand of yours clasps around his wrist; the other bands to his chest, nails digging red into his skin. Your cursed energy blooms, flushes, flourishes when he opens his eyes to look at you. 

He sees every pore, every hair, every dimple, every broken capillary, every scratch and scrape. Every part of you, bending to him in some places, unfalteringly stubborn in others. 

"Look at you," he mumbles, blinking dumbly. "So… pretty…"

You snort something like a laugh, and continue: up, down, up, down. Slow, grinding gyrations of your hips that make his head spin pleasantly; and with his Limitless nullified, he feels every inch of skin, every tensing of muscle, every scrape and press fully and completely. He’s never felt so engulfed in it before — the sensations of it all, the warmth, your scent, your weight above him.

He'd drown in you, if he could. Take you in his mouth and nose and ears and everywhere, until he's left gasping for air and grappling for something of substance. Maybe once upon a time he would keep those thoughts to himself, for whatever reason — but now he's allowed to be selfish in his affections, allowed to give more than surface-level compliments and vague declarations of love.

Between pleasure-ridden shudders and sloppy, wet kisses, he breathes:

"I want you everywhere," he says, "All the time. Over me, on me, in me—"

You raise a brow, impudent and teasing in a way that makes his abdomen tighten. "In you?"

And maybe he didn’t mean it in the way that you took it, but he plays along anyways, waggling his brows. "You heard me."

"You're terrible."

"I'm not joking," Satoru argues — but it’s hard to take him seriously when his voice quietens, when he arches up eagerly to meet your lips— 

When his grip on your lower back becomes painfully tight, when his lips part in a moan and his eyes screw shut and he throws his head back, hips rutting up to meet yours, and—

His peak rises to greet him — and his heart swells all the while. He finds himself clawing for you as his orgasm builds, hands clambering against your back, your neck, your hair, until (with a great, shaking breath, may he add): "Fuck, I — mmf, I love you—"

It carries him off to a state of fuzzy, empty-minded ignorance — pleasure tightening his entire body, fizzling from the tips of his fingers to his curling toes. Your name on his tongue, slurred and mellifluous, his smile dizzy and drunk. 

As you smile down at him, so unbearably fond, Satoru thinks that he doesn’t mind saying I love you aloud after all.)

[linawritestwst]

(a very late valentine's day special) how twst characters would fall in love with you!

okay, so when i created this blog last year, i didn't have much time to write something for valentine's day, but i thought that i should try and write something for it this year!

at first i wanted to write something like "how twst characters would confess their love for you", i wanted it to be a reference to the "how twst characters would react to your love confession" series i made back when i just created this blog and i still only have the heartslabyul, savanaclaw and octavinelle hcs. i am sorry. but to be honest, i didn't have a lot of ideas and it was hard to find inspiration, so i decided to go with something different. but who knows, maybe i'll actually write it one day! also i know that this idea is very basic and i'm sorry.

this post has all nrc students (except ortho) + rsa and nbc characters, so GET READY BECAUSE THIS IS GONNA BE A VERY LONG POST.

also i'm having some really bad internet problems rn and even though i can use mobile data, EDITING ON MY PHONE IS A PAIN. I CAN'T DO ANYTHING. and idk when wifi will start working again and i'll be able to use my computer again, so sorry if this post looks weird, has typos and stuff like that, I JUST WANT TO POST IT ALREADY. I'M SICK OF SEEING IT IN MY DRAFTS.

heartslabyul.

riddle rosehearts.

♡ he doesn't understand you at all. you should be afraid of him, you should actually hate him for what he did and how he acted earlier. he was the first to overblot in front of you, he's sure it was quite a traumatic memory from you. and it's not like he treated you better than he treated other nrc students, he was just as willing to punish you for any "misbehavior". so why.. why do you still want you and riddle to become closer? you simply don't think that riddle actually had bad intentions, he just genuinely thought that everything will be okay if he just follows the rules and makes others follow them. so.. you don't think he's a bad person or anything like that. just someone who has a lot of issues and doesn't know how to deal with them properly. and after you say that.. riddle starts feeling very strange.

♡ falling in love with you feels so sudden, riddle doesn't remember being this interested in you when he first met you. he has to admit that he even kind of.. looked down on you back then and didn't think you were that special. though the case of you being the only magicless student here really was special. he also was angry at you because of you being so close with ace and deuce.. but now, he feels different. as he learns more about you and starts getting used to your company, he realizes that he actually likes you a lot. he even admires you, because it must be hard to deal with so much stuff as someone who's magicless he's sorry for being the first to overblot btw. he's always here if you need any help.

♡ why did he fall in love with you? well, you're certainly a very smart, strong and kind person, but the main reason was.. he was just happy to be understood by someone. he didn't expect you out of all people to forgive him, but it sure was a nice surprise. you're always here to calm him down when he's close to using his unique magic or yelling at someone for breaking the rules again, however, you don't blame him for acting like that and you say that his feelings are valid, he just has to find a better way to express them and process them. so.. it probably just feels nice to be seen as someone other than a rose-red tyrant.

ace trappola.

♡ as someone who said some pretty bad things about you and grim when you first met.. wow, it feels embarrassing to admit that he has a crush on you now. imagine making fun of a magicless human and then falling in love with them. yeah, that's ace. so, how did it happen? he's not sure when exactly he got feelings for you, it just.. happened. you two became so close, he actually couldn't imagine spending a day without you. everything just feels so boring when you're not around. pranking you or showing off to you or just talking to you makes his day, even if it's just you going "ACE D:<", he loves seeing your reactions.. and maybe, he loves you.

♡ it's hard to notice him acting any different when he's in love with you, but if you pay closer attention, you can see him blushing after you praise him for something or you can notice him asking you to hang out with him more often. he also sometimes freezes for a moment when you call him your friend, it's almost like he's asking you ".. but are you sure you don't wanna be more than friends?". but right after that, he goes back to his usual behavior and he's surprisingly good at hiding his crush on you.

♡ falling in love with you feels fun and kinda sad at the same time, because even though ace tries so hard to act confident and he claims that you love him just as much, he's actually not sure if you love him back or not. he doesn't mind being seen only as a friend, being friends with you is cool, but also.. yeah, he wants more. and he's not sure if he's ready for a serious relationship, considering what he did in the past to that girl he used to date. he knows that he would never do that to you, because you're so much cooler than that girl and you're much more interesting, but he also doesn't want to let you down. but if you do love him back.. he will try his best to treat you right, though it doesn't mean that you will be safe from his teasing and his pranks.

deuce spade.

♡ out of all the heartslabyul boys, i imagine deuce being the one to get a crush on you earlier than all the others. you're just so nice and sweet and understanding.. you also didn't judge him after you heard about his past and even said that you're proud of him for trying to change and become a better person. after that, deuce couldn't get your words out of his head and became extremely loyal to you, he's always here if you need any help and he feels so happy when you praise him or want to spend time with him.

♡ it's very easy to notice him having a crush on you, honestly. he tries really hard to hide it, but he fails and ace laughs at him every time. he can't say anything properly when you compliment him or smile at him and he starts stuttering, giggling like an idiot or he simply runs away and ends up tripping and falling. it makes him even more cute though and you can give him more attention to get more reactions like that from him or you can pretend not to notice on purpose.

♡ falling in love with you feels like something completely new and that's understandable, deuce has never experienced a feeling like this before. and even though at first it was just a very huge crush, now it actually feels like something more deep, it's like.. he really is in love with you. spending the rest of his life with you sounds scary and he's not sure if he's ready for something like this, but when he imagines it, it makes him feel soft and even kind of excited. he will understand if you reject his feelings, he has not the best past, but if you say yes to him, he will try to become the perfect boyfriend for you. he already knew that he wants to become a better person for his mom, but now he has two people in his life that he wants to change for.

cater diamond.

♡ when cater first met you, he thought you were cute but.. that was it. he didn't think much of you, honestly. don't get him wrong, he thought you were very cute and he would love to be friends with you! but.. he really didn't think that he's gonna fall in love with you later. he just enjoyed hanging out with you, talking to you, he loved the way you smile, he loved the way you laugh and.. wait, that's just him thinking you're cute, right? but not, like, in that way, right? because cater doesn't think he's quite ready to admit that he has feelings for you.

♡ cater is not sure how exactly it happened and why he got a crush on you. it's like.. he just feels more safe around you. it's like he can actually show you his real self and you won't judge him. of course, he's still not sure that you would actually be okay with him acting like his real self and he doubts that you would even like that side of his.. but for some reason he still feels like he can trust you. so he may or may not drop a few hints that make you go "cater. dude. are you okay." no, y/n, he's not okay, this poor man needs a hug.

♡ falling in love with you feels exciting and terrifying at the same time. cater feels truly happy when he's with you, he manages to forget about his problems at least for some time and his smile looks a lot more sincere than usual. but he's also.. scared. he doesn't think that you will love him back once you find out about his real personality, maybe you will accept it, sure, but would you really want a boyfriend like that? honestly, he should be grateful for you wanting to spend time with him even when he's being his "fake" self. he shouldn't ask so much from you, he should thank you for even just being friends with him. so whenever cater hears you laugh at his jokes, he feels genuine happiness but only for a second before he remembers that you will most likely never love him as much as he loves you. or will you?..

trey clover.

♡ just like cater, trey thought you were a nice person, but he didn't think you were.. you know.. his future love or something like that. he thought you were cute and he was always there to suggest his help if you needed it, but he really just thought that you two are gonna be friends and that's all. okay, maybe you two will be close friends. like, very close friends. but that's it. trey gave you so much attention and he had a habit to get a little bit too worried about you for no reason at all, but he thought that you're just.. well.. another younger sibling figure to him (your actual age doesn't matter). why else would he care so much about you?

♡ but oh no. it looks like you're actually something more to him. you're not just another younger sibling figure going "trey, i need your help!! ><". he would seriously think that he just likes you platonically and if it wasn't for cater, he would never realize that he actually likes you romantically. so what if he blushes a bit when you compliment his baking. so what if he thinks about you so often that it distracts him from his vice dorm leader duties. so what if he imagined spending the rest of his life with you- okay. okay, he understands what cater means now. maybe he really is in love with you.

♡ falling in love with you feels confusing for sure, but it also feels soft and sweet. trey may be a local mom friend who's always here to help his underclassmen out, but he has no idea what to do with his own feelings. should he just confess to you already or should he wait a bit? wait, do you even love him back? he has so many questions but almost no answers. but if you do love him back, trey will most likely notice it eventually. he's a smart boy, he had no idea that he actually has romantic feelings for you, but if you have a crush on him, he will definitely find out about it and when he does, he might start teasing you even more often.

savanaclaw.

leona kingscholar.

♡ oh boy. this guy definitely didn't expect to fall in love with you. no, he didn't expect to even become friends with you. you were just a weak little herbivore to him, nothing special, nothing out of ordinary. you were very a bit annoying sometimes too. but when you started saying things like "i want to get to know you better" or "i want to talk to you more".. that's when leona got very confused, though he didn't show it. why would you say things like that? what do you even want from him? is it because he's a prince? oh well, sorry to disappoint you, but he's actually a younger- "i just want to know why you're so lazy all the time.".. okay, this wasn't the answer he expected. he will tell you to go away, but don't pay attention to that, he's actually more interested in you now.

♡ leona just can't understand why you're like this. why do you spend so much time with him? why can't you just let him nap in peace? he actually jokes about you having a crush on him once and he expects you to go "h-how can you say things like that so casually!..". but you manage to surprise him again. "well what if i do? what are you gonna do then, huh?" okay, maybe he did underestimate you a little. just a little bit. you're slowly becoming more and more interesting and he hates to admit that he wants to know more about you. why? well.. he wants to know why you're so annoying all the time.

♡ falling in love with you feels weird, but also surprisingly entertaining. leona never knows what you're gonna do next and for some reason he even finds it exciting. he somehow manages to act like a tsundere and flirt with you at the same time. yes, he will go "ugh, why do you have to ruin my day like this" whenever you step on his tail while he's asleep, but he also will say things that make other savanaclaw students think that he's about to confess his feelings for you OR you two are actually already dating. does he know that he's in love with you though?.. he will need some time, but he will eventually realize it. and he's not gonna be happy about it.

ruggie bucchi.

♡ ruggie didn't really pay much attention to you at first, but he has to say that you're really fun to mess with. he never gets bored of seeing your reactions and sometimes he would steal stuff from you just to make you look at him. he knows that it probably sounds weird, but don't worry, he definitely doesn't have a crush on you, haha.. hey, why are you being so kind to him? why do you cook/buy food for him? why do you keep asking him if he needs any help? ah, maybe you just want a favor from him? you want him to help you with something, don't you? why would you have any other reason- "i'm just worried about you, that's all." oh no. oh no he's about to catch feelings.

♡ your kindness scares ruggie a bit, but he also keeps wanting more. he doesn't understand your motives, he doesn't understand why you're so worried about him. you just say things like "oh, i thought you were tired from doing leona's job all day" or "i thought you looked tired, so i just want to help you out, if that's okay". they may sound like nothing special, but ruggie feels weird whenever he hears you say stuff like that. he just jokes about you being too pure for someone like him, but he's actually kind of serious about it. are you sure you want to be friends with him? or.. maybe you're actually in love with him? don't worry, he's just joking around~

♡ falling in love with you feels fun at first, but it slowly starts becoming more and more scary when ruggie realizes just how deep and strong his feelings are. it's not just a small crush, he really is in love with you. he can't stop thinking about you and not a day passes without him wanting to see you. it feels strange to be treated so well without any reason at all, but ruggie just can't say no to your kindness. even though he keeps trying to make it look like it's nothing serious and you're just friends, he's actually this close to crying because he feels like he will never have a chance to be with you and you will never love him as much as he loves you. why would you even have feelings for him anyway?

jack howl.

♡ savanaclaw boys wouldn't find you that special when they first meet you and jack is not an exception. he thought you still have a long way to go and you have to put more effort in what you do. he also thought you looked too weak and "fragile", so he made sure to remind you to train more often, if you can, or to just take better care of yourself. i-it's not like he's worried about you. it just bothers him that you always look so tired all the time and it doesn't look like you get enough sleep too..

♡ however, you manage to impress jack and he's surprised to find out just how hardworking you really are. no matter what happens or how hard your life in twisted wonderland may get, you still try to achieve your goals. sure, you may whine a bit and say that it's unfair for a magicless human like you to go through so much, but you still do what you have to, no matter how weak you look. jack sure finds you more impressive than leona and he doesn't even notice how fast he starts to admire you and even fall in love with you.

♡ falling in love with you doesn't feel like something special because jack isn't even aware of his own feelings at first. he just thinks you're very cool and he respects you a lot and wishes to help you whenever he can. he just always wants to be by your side and support you when you need it. you're much stronger than he thought you were when you two just met, but he still thinks that in a world like twisted wonderland.. you deserve to be protected. and he's more than willing to protect you from whatever life throws at you. he realizes that he's actually in love with you when he notices that he feels a bit weird when you're around. this feeling is warm, but also so confusing.. and whenever you say goodbye to him, he doesn't want you to leave. b-but that's just because he admires you a lot, right?

octavinelle.

azul ashengrotto.

♡ azul didn't think you'd be that useful to him at first. it's not like he can make a deal with you or take your magic.. but still, being friends with a ramshackle prefect might actually help him in the future. so yes, he will try to become closer with you anyway. he's sure it will be easy to make you trust him, he just needs to make you believe that you can rely on him and who wouldn't want to have a friend like azul in such a scary world, especially as a human who has no idea how twisted wonderland works?.. well, it's actually not as easy as azul thought it would be.

♡ sure, you do want to become friends with him, but whenever he tries to help you with whatever you're struggling with (for a price, of course) or he tries to make himself seem as a kind person who genuinely wants to help others, you simply go "thank you, but i'm fine".. what do you mean, you're fine, y/n, he knows what crowley makes you do, just ask azul for help already! but as time passes, azul starts to notice that he actually wants to help you not because he needs you to make a deal with him.. but just because he really does feel bad for you and he wants to make your job at least a bit easier.

♡ falling in love with you feels strange and unexpected, azul wasn't prepared for this at all. he didn't think that he would actually become so attached to you, you were supposed to be another student who he can manipulate, so why do you feel like one of the most important people in his life now? he doesn't think that it's love at first, him thinking of you as his actual friend is already too much for him.. but then his overblot happens. and you forgive him for everything. and you tell him that no matter what, you accept him and even though he still has some.. um.. not so good qualities to work on, you'll be there to help him and support him. okay, maybe he actually is in love with you.

jade leech.

♡ jade thought you were an interesting and unique person right when he met you for the first time, but you were just that: an interesting and unique person. nothing more, nothing less. he would love to know more about you though, so don't be surprised if he starts talking to you more often or asking you more questions. this man wants to study you in a lab, okay. oh, and even though he sure does seem suspicious, he actually doesn't have any ulterior motives, unlike azul. he just can't go "hey, i like you, let's be friends', no, he has to act like his usual self that sometimes seems more dangerous than floyd.

♡ he doesn't even notice falling in love with you, but he sure notices becoming more interested in you for some reason. he always wants to know what you're up to, he wants to know more about your interests and he's always here if you need someone to talk to, whatever the topic is. he only starts thinking more about his feelings for you when floyd mentions jade being "totally in love with you". jade thinks floyd is just joking at first, but then floyd says that he was serious and jade's crush on you is more obvious than he thinks. and the funny thing is that.. jade is surprisingly casual about it. he just goes "oh. so i have a crush on them. okay". he never felt like this before, so he's a little confused, but it's not like he's about to have a breakdown because he just realized he's been in love with you this whole time.

♡ falling in love with you feels sweet and exciting. jade just thought you were a fun person when he first met you, but now it's hard for him to imagine his day without you. you've made him feel emotions he has never/rarely felt before. it's so unusual for him to worry about you, laugh at your jokes or be angry at someone who ruined your day. and trust him, all of those emotions are sincere. he's not pretending, you really made him feel all of this and even though he's not used to feeling this way, he can't wait to find out what else you're going to make him feel.

floyd leech.

♡ just like his twin, floyd already thought you were interesting when he just met you. he always followed you everywhere, he kept pranking you just to see your reaction and he thought that you getting annoyed with him was cute. and he found you even more interesting after he realized that even though he kept messing with you, you still let him hang out with you and didn't ask him to leave. huh, so you actually like his company, shrimpy? well, he's glad to hear that~

♡ floyd's feelings for you don't feel like a crush at all at first. he just thinks you're cute and that's it, really. but for some reason, he really hates it when he has to leave or when you don't give him enough attention. sometimes he takes a break (he doesn't tell azul anything though) from his work at mostro lounge just to hang out with you and he feels bored whenever you're not around. he has no idea why he feels like this, but.. who knows, maybe he really does like you, hehe.

♡ falling in love with you feels fun and full of surprises. floyd has never felt this way before and even though this feeling can be kinda annoying sometimes and it doesn't go away, he wants your relationship to become deeper and he wants to have more fun with you. just being friends is not enough for him anymore. you became an irreplaceable and extremely important part of his world and he hopes you feel the same about him.

scarabia.

kalim al-asim.

♡ kalim is kinda oblivious when it comes to crushes.. no, he's very oblivious. he really does believe he just likes you as a friend and even though it's true at first, as time passes, literally anyone can see that kalim treats you even better than people who he calls his friends. and considering how kind and friendly he is, this guy basically never leaves you alone even for a second and you get gifts from him every single day. he's constantly trying to come up with ways to make you happy and he thinks you have the most beautiful smile in the whole world. but yes, he definitely doesn't have a crush on you <3

♡ you and kalim would most likely have that friends to lovers dynamic. he's very easy to get along with and even though his energetic personality may be overwhelming sometimes, if he sees that you're tired or sad, he will tone it down a bit and ask you what's wrong. if you're not doing so well, he will genuinely worry about you a lot and he's okay with doing anything to make you feel better. he doesn't understand why your happiness matters to him so much, but.. maybe he just doesn't like it when someone is sad. and when YOU are sad, he feels like it's the end of the world and he has to do something about it immediately.

♡ kalim almost doesn't notice falling in love with you. he just thinks your friendship is becoming stronger and that's it. it's okay if he wants to hug you for a little bit longer, that's just because you're his best friend! it's okay if he wants to hold hands with you, he just doesn't want you to get lost and he's worried about you! it's okay if he wants to kiss you- oh. uh.. oh, you know, he means it in a platonic way! it's not like friends can't kiss each other! but if he actually wants to be more than friends with you.. would you be okay with that? wait, what is he even supposed to do with his feelings? maybe he should ask jamil for advice..

jamil viper.

♡ jamil's case is actually even worse because if kalim at least knows that you two have a good relationship and that you are friends, jamil is like "?? idk who you are to me. can i trust you. can i call you my friend". he thought you were okay when he first met you, but didn't pay too much attention to you, though he certainly appreciated you being.. you know, a more "normal" person than most nrc students (especially kalim). he actually feels like he can rely on you, honestly. he won't talk to you too much though, who knows what you're really like jamil if you're hiding something it doesn't mean that everyone around you is like that

♡ jamil doesn't understand why he feels so strange around you. at first he feels like he can trust you, even though he still tries to stop himself and tells himself that you can easily stab him in the back. and why are you so nice to him? you're probably just trying to become friends because you think that having a close relationship with someone like him could be useful, right? well, he's not gonna fall for that. and stop praising him all the time already. he told you that he's just a vice dorm leader and his abilities are not that special- wait, why does he feel good after hearing your compliments. oh no. oh no, he doesn't want you to stop.

♡ falling in love with you feels scary and jamil doesn't want to admit that he sees you not only as a friend (though he won't tell you that), but also as someone who he loves and wants to be with. you actually listen to him, you give him love and attention that he always wanted and you recognize his talents, but you still think that they are not the only good things about him and jamil is also just a very good person who deserves to be loved. jamil doesn't feel like he's ready to open up to you just yet, but he really doesn't want to miss a chance to finally find someone who will care about him as much as he cares about them.

pomefiore.

vil schoenheit.

♡ your relationship with vil definitely had a rough start. he criticized you a lot, he told you to take better care of your appearance, health and all of that. you felt like this guy hates you and tried to avoid him as best as you could. however, you were wrong and even though vil still thought that you could do better and you have some things to work on, he didn't hate you. in fact, he thought you were an interesting person who has their own talents and abilities, but they have to work on them more so that they can achieve their goals faster. so yeah, he basically tried to motivate you, but he probably didn't do a very good job.

♡ other people can notice vil giving you quite a lot of attention but not in a good way. it means that he's especially harsh on you. most students start to agree with you and think that the guy hates you, but his vice dorm leader knows that it's not true at all. rook is sure that vil is being so rude just because he believes you're better than most nrc students and he wants you to reach your full potential. but wow, it really feels like vil is almost obsessed with you. rook mentions that vil almost never stops talking about you lately and vil says that it's not true- no, rook, don't even joke about vil having a crush on you.

♡ even though vil sure has a lot of braincells, he almost doesn't notice falling in love with you as well. he really thinks he's just mad at you for not "trying hard enough", but this guy actually cares about you a lot. it may seem like he's angry at you and he hates you, but he's actually just very worried. what do you mean your sleep schedule doesn't even exist. go to sleep already, don't you know what happens to your skin if you don't get enough rest?? no, he's not worried about your health, it's just. uh. anyway, what about your hair-

rook hunt.

♡ finally. finally someone who actually knows they have feelings for you. though it may take some time for rook to realize that he's in love with you and not just admiring your beauty, he still would understand his feelings for you earlier than most characters here. he understands how romance works better than them, okay. very chad behavior of him sure, he thinks all people are beautiful in their own way, but you feel a little bit more special to him. his heart beats faster around you and he finds it hard to take his eyes off you. he never felt like this before around other students or people in general.

♡ rook would be very affectionate with you, however, he would take his time and wouldn't confess his feelings for you that early. he wants his confession to feel unique and special, he has to be prepared for that moment! he also needs some time to learn more about you. he wants to get to know you better, he wants to know what kind of person you are, how you see the world and he hopes that this way he will be able to predict your reaction to his confession. but of course, he doesn't do it just to earn your trust, he really is curious and wants to know more. you're just so interesting to him, he wants to know what exactly made him fall in love with you this hard.

♡ falling in love with you feels like a fairytale. it's so magical and exciting, rook wishes he never stops feeling this way. you are everything to him, all of his thoughts are about you and he's not complaining. he may joke about you distracting him from everything else, but he's actually more than happy and he doesn't mind being obsessed with you at all. yes, he may still compliment other people's beauty and talents, but don't worry, he has eyes only for you and he's more loyal to you than you think he is.

epel felmier.

♡ unless you make fun of his height, call him cute too often or refuse to take him seriously, epel wouldn't mind your company at all. who knows, maybe you two can actually become friends. and you do become friends! how fun! epel didn't expect to get along with you so easily, but he's more than okay with it. he's glad to have someone he can trust enough to talk about his true feelings and show his true personality to. he's more open and honest with you and he feels like you would never judge him no matter what he does or says.

♡ this feeling slowly starts turning into deep love and affection for you, though epel doesn't seem to notice that and still thinks you're just a friend to him. but he does notice feeling a bit more anxious around you now. why? well, it's like.. he wants to become better for you. he wants to impress you. h-he doesn't have a reason for that, really. he just.. wants you to notice how great and talented he really is. he wants you to praise him and smile at hiim while saying that what he did was amazing. again, he doesn't have a reason for that. totally.

♡ falling in love with you feels sweet and bitter at the same time. epel feels safe when you're around and he feels like he can tell you anything, but he's also scared that you actually don't think he's that special. he does slowly start to realize he's in love with you and that makes him feel even more scared. he needs to become a better person for you, he needs to become stronger, he wants to become someone who can protect you, who can impress you and who you can rely on. so forgive him for taking some time to work on that, he promises that he will tell you the truth when he's ready.

ignihyde.

idia shroud.

♡ idia genuinely doesn't understand why you're so nice to him. it actually scares him a little and he never knows what to expect from you. you're not as extroverted as some other nrc students, like kalim for example, but you still always run to idia whenever you see him and try to talk to him more. what do you want from him? you're just doing this out of pity, aren't you? it's okay, you don't have to give him so much attention, idia loves being alone, also he has online friends, so it's not like he's a complete loner or anything.

♡ you still try to get to know him better. you just want to help idia get out of his shell and become more confident. you don't think that being an introvert is a bad thing at all, but you still think that idia should start socializing more anyway. and you're sure that idia wants to make more friends as well, he's just afraid of being rejected. no, idia, you don't think that all these people are normies, you're just scared of them and trying to come up with an excuse so that you don't have to talk to them.

♡ falling in love with you feels sudden and predictable at the same time. of course idia shroud would fall for a person who's always there to support him and genuinely wants to become friends with him. he's affection-starved, okay? he may say that you can be really annoying sometimes, but he actually waits for you to text him or say hi to him every single day and if for some reason you can't talk to him, he feels lost and.. sad, even? please, don't leave him alone.. he knows that he's most likely too lame or boring for you, but he can't stand the thought of you leaving him.

diasomnia.

malleus draconia.

♡ i wouldn't call it love at first sight, but right after malleus met you, he knew that you're gonna become someone special to him. you didn't know anything about him. you didn't know his real name, status, his real identity. you didn't care about his reputation and you simply thought he seemed like an interesting person to talk to. he also seemed a little lonely too and you really could use a friend in a world like this, so yeah, that's how all of it started. he thought that the nickname you gave him was cute too.

♡ malleus gets used to your company too quickly. in fact, he can't imagine what he would do if you suddenly disappeared or simply lost interest in him. he got used to your kindness, to your smile, to your laugh, to your affection. his world becomes more warm and fun when you're around. but of course, he doesn't want this relationship to be too one-sided. he would do anything to protect you, help you or simply make you smile. you deserve the same happiness that you give him.

♡ falling in love with you feels soft and sweet, but also.. scary. malleus feels so happy when you're around, whenever he wakes up, he immediately thinks of you. you're everything to him. so if he loses you.. he will lose everything. he can't let you leave him. of course, he knows that you come from a different world and twisted wonderland isn't your home. he knows that you will leave him sooner or later. but.. is it selfish of him to want you to stay here for as long as possible? maybe you don't even have to leave?

lilia vanrouge.

♡ lilia thought you were cute right when he first met you. your reactions to his sudden appearances were so funny, it was hard for him to stop surprising you like this. at first your relationship dynamic was just like that, lilia kept surprising/scaring you, you screamed, he laughed and asked you to not be mad at him, he just likes your reactions too much. but as he started learning more about you, he realized that there are so many things he likes about you and it's not just you being an adorable scaredy-cat.

♡ for some reason, even though you wouldn't be able to tell from his behavior, lilia feels very calm when you're around. it's like his thoughts about his past and everything that he had to go through during his very, VERY long life can finally give him a break when he's with you. he doesn't have to worry about that, he can just stay here in present. and actually, he likes staying in present much more now thanks to you. but you're so naive, so innocent, so fragile, lilia thinks it's cute but he's also extremely worried about you because of that. you weren't made for this world. no matter how much you get praised for your job as a prefect, twisted wonderland is still too much for someone like you.

♡ lilia falls in love with you slowly, but when it happens, it feels so overwhelming, lilia has no idea what to do. he knows that having a romantic relationship with you is probably not the best idea considering that you'll have to leave this world someday and even if you don't.. he also doesn't have much time left. but if it's possible, if there's at least a tiny chance of him being in a happy relationship with you, he doesn't want to miss that chance. he may not have much time left, but he would do anything to spend all of that time with you.

silver.

♡ you and silver become friends surprisingly quickly. he knows he can trust you to wake him up when he falls asleep again, even though you think he looks very cute when he's asleep and you want him to get enough rest. whenever silver blames himself for being too lazy or incompetent, you're always here to remind him that he's already doing his best and he doesn't have to be so harsh on himself. he definitely will become a great knight one day no matter what, you believe in him!

♡ your kind words and your support make silver enjoy hanging out with you too much. he lets you watch him train, he finds it relaxing to take a nap when you're there with him and you run your fingers through his hair while he's asleep. even though he seems like a chill guy, he's scared of letting his father and his master down, but he always can rely on you when doesn't feel confident enough and he needs someone to tell him that everything is gonna be fine and lilia and malleus are already proud of him. and you're proud of him too.

♡ falling in love with you feels like a dream that he doesn't want to wake up from. he never thought his life was that bad, but it surely got better thanks to you. he wants to thank you for everything you did for him, he wants to protect you from all the dangers of this world. he knows that he wanted to become a knight so that he can repay lilia and malleus, but now.. he wants to be your knight as well. no, please, don't worry about him, he genuinely wants to do it. you always give him motivation to keep going and it would be an honor for him to become someone who can always protect you.

sebek zigvolt.

♡ yeah, your relationship with sebek wouldn't be that good at first. you two would argue a lot, he would never stop calling you a "lowly human" even though he's a half-human himself. and if you even think of saying anything bad about malleus, that's it, he's this close to killing you on sight. and you did hate sebek for acting like that at first, but as time passed, for some reason you actually started finding it.. entertaining? you loved to make him angry on purpose and then you decided to start teasing and even flustering him. yes, you did flirt with him multiple times just to see what kind of reaction he would give you, so what?

♡ sebek doesn't know how to feel about you. he knows he's supposed to think you're weak and pathetic because, you know, you're a human, but.. why does he feel so weird when you throw your dumb pickup lines at him? and why he feels like he actually wants to be praised by you and he wants you to notice how talented he really is? he knows that you're most likely not being serious most of the time, but he really wants you to be serious for once. uh, he just wants to be praised by you because he deserves it and that's it. it doesn't mean he wants you to be serious when you flirt with him, haha..

♡ sebek really didn't want to fall in love with you and he didn't expect to catch feelings for someone like you, but it still happened. he just doesn't understand why you still hang out with him even though he doesn't treat you that well. and how is he supposed to react when you tease him like that? he knows he should stay serious, but for some reason he just can't control his emotions when he's around you even though he's never that good at controlling them. he also realizes that even though you're a human, you're capable of doing many things and.. ugh, he really doesn't want to say it, but you're actually just as good as some magic users. y-you still have a lot to work on though.

royal sword academy.

chenya.

♡ you and chenya first met during that one unbirthday party after riddle's overblot. you were surprised to find out that a guy from a different school (and a rival school too!) was able to get here so easily and didn't care what nrc students will think of him. and also you thought that the way he could easily appear and disappear as he pleases (or he could just stay as a floating head) was funny. so yes, this guy managed to pique your curiosity.

♡ chenya himself thought you were quite interesting and he was even more surprised when he found out that you came to rsa secretly from other students just to see him. haha, you really betrayed your own school like this for him! wow, y/n, that's something only a lovestruck person would do! but he has to admit, he likes you even more now. just what kind of person are you? you're so full of mysteries and chenya isn't sure if he wants to know all the answers or it would be more interesting to keep it this way.

♡ falling in love with you is fun and exciting. you keep spending more time with chenya no matter what other nrc students think and chenya likes to make jokes about stealing you from nrc students so that you never have to leave him. is he just joking though?.. well, it doesn't matter. what matters more is that you both always end up having so much fun and you feel so comfortable with each other that there's been multiple times when one of you was very close to kissing the other. and lately, it's been very hard for you both to control your feelings.

neige leblanche.

♡ when you first heard of neige, you couldn't believe that someone like that actually existed. i mean, someone more beautiful and popular than vil? is that even possible? and when you finally saw him for the first time.. you were a bit underwhelmed. yes, neige is definitely very pretty, he's adorable, actually, but.. is that really it? but when you actually meet each other, you find it surprising just how nice neige really is. he's very polite, he treats you with kindness and makes sure you're comfortable. oh no, he's so cute, you're about to fall in love-

♡ you actually feel kind of pathetic for getting a crush on neige. it's just.. so predictable, you're really not that special and you're not any better than his fans. you doubt that he will ever notice you, you're just a magicless human from a different world, you don't deserve to be with someone like him. but what you don't know is that neige fell in love with you right when he first saw you. not because of your appearance, even though he thinks you're really pretty, but because of your personality, the way you treat other people and stay kind and patient no matter what. it's very impressive for someone who was basically forced to stay in this world against their will.

♡ falling in love with you feels like neige's life turned into an actual romance movie, but this time he doesn't know anything about the plot, especially the ending. he sure hopes you two will get your happy ending though. neige loves his fans and he really doesn't want to make them sad, he knows that dating someone when he's this popular is not the best decision, but he really, really wants to be with you. this is what true love feels like to him.

noble bell college.

rollo flamme.

♡ you were a bit intimidated by rollo when you first met him, you just.. thought he was a bit scary, haha. but then you noticed just how kind he is to you and that even though he's polite to all nrc students, you're a special case and you certainly are his "favorite". he also was the first person who actually thought you didn't deserve to go through all of this and that it must be very scary and overwhelming for you to have no other choice but to stay in this world full of danger and.. magic. so yes, you got used to his kindness pretty quickly, even though you still had a feeling that something is not quite right.

♡ and yeah, it turned out that rollo really wasn't the best person to trust. he hated magic with all his heart and he wanted it to disappear. and it was hard for him to choose between his growing love for you and his hatred for magic, but then he managed to convince himself that he's doing all of this for your own good and in the end you'll have no other choice but to agree with him. after rollo is defeated, he expects you to hate him as much as others hate him, but to his shock.. you forgive him. you had to deal with six overblots, even though nrc students saved the day this time, it's not like they're much better than him. so yes, you think rollo still can change and you want to give him a second chance.

♡ after that, rollo's love for you becomes even stronger. he can't stop thinking about you and it's hard to tell if he's in love with you or he's obsessed with you. when you have to go back to nrc, it gets even worse and everything around rollo reminds him of you. he really wishes you could spend more time together and he wasn't so focused on his plan. he's gonna be honest, he doesn't really regret doing.. well, all that, but the fact that he could use that time to talk to you more makes him think that maybe.. maybe trying to steal everyone's magic wasn't a good idea. yes, he thinks so only because he could spend more time with you instead of taking everyone's powers. listen, he needs some time, he will change. probably. maybe.

[loganwritesprobably]

Chronic Pain

Content/Warnings: Crocodile/GN!Reader, pre-slash, Reader has chronic pain, Reader is a Buggy pirate

Notes: This is very self indulgent but hopefully people will enjoy

It was hard sometimes, life as a pirate. Even now that you were grounded, on land 90% of the time at Karai Bari, it was hard. The difference between being at sea and being on land was minimal when it came to you, you even still slept in a hammock.

You were a Buggy pirate at heart and you always would be, but since Crocodile had arrived you'd grown increasingly close. He'd decided you were the "least incompetent" amongst the crew and so when he needed a task to be completed that either couldn't be done by Daz or he'd be "wasted" on it, he sought you out to complete it instead. You didn't mind so much. Manual labour work had always been hard for you and while Buggy understood you did feel useless, and often that meant you overworked yourself and caused yourself more harm than necessary. Work for Crocodile was rarely of that nature.

Delivering letters, collecting the paper from the news coo, reading paperwork and contracts for him, confirming kills of marines, posting new bounties - they were less straining. But, some days there was nothing he needed you for, and so you'd default back to your Captain's side and do what he needed.

Yesterday had been like that. You'd found the crew working hard, asked where you needed, and you simply joined them. First was moving a new shipment from the docks to the big top, then was transporting some of the new shipment to different areas of the island, then erecting a new tent, then moving old and broken materials to another part of the island for disposal. It'd been a lot of heavy lifting and walking, which was awful for your joints, but you'd gotten on with the work despite the discomfort.

Today, you were in awful pain. You'd managed to make it to breakfast with a grimace on your face and a small limp, and the crew had been worried. You'd intended to ignore it, until Cabaji snitched on you to Buggy, who sent you back to bed to rest. He'd scolded you, but he'd done it gently and with concern. He struggled with pain too, and yet he never seemed to stop, so you'd called him a hypocrite under your breath before retreating to your hammock to take a nap. You'd been tired anyway.

You were woken again not even an hour later by Crocodile himself, who had apparently been looking for you to get some work done for him. Daz Bones was elsewhere, and so he'd had to find you personally.

"Sir?" You asked, rubbing a hand over your face with a yawn. You enjoyed the short few moments of bliss before your pain kicked in again.

"Why are you still sleeping?" He asked harshly, and you sat up slowly, brows furrowed as you concentrated on not falling while trying to ignore your pain.

"Sorry sir. Captain Buggy sent me back to bed this morning to rest, but I can be ready in ten minutes if I'm needed." You replied, ready to do whatever was needed. You liked Crocodile a lot, more than you probably should, you were only too happy to assist him.

"Why the hell would he do that?" Crocodile questioned with a sneer, looking you up and down as if scanning for injuries.

"I have chronic pain, sir. I overworked myself yesterday and woke this morning in more pain than usual. But, I'm prepared to work if you need me." You wanted to be honest, because you didn't doubt that Crocodile would be able to identify a lie immediately, but you also didn't want to lose his favour. Those quiet afternoons you spent together both doing paperwork had a special place in your heart. Crocodile regarded you for a long moment, considering his next steps. All you could do was sit and not wither under his gaze.

"I understand the feeling," he said after a moment, words clipped as if he didn't really want to be talking about it, "don't push yourself so hard. I'll speak with Buggy about having you work with me full time, doing less strenuous things." Crocodile nodded once he was done, mostly to himself, pleased with the course of action.

"Whatever you'd like, sir. I'm happy to help." You replied, and you were in fact only took happy to do what he'd suggested. You could see the way Crocodile chewed the inside of his cheek with uncertainty for a moment, a side effect of not having a cigar in his mouth, and then he shook his head and returned to himself.

"Yes, well. Rest today, captain's orders, I'll see you bright and early tomorrow." And then he turned and left before you could respond or argue.

You had a lot of mornings with Crocodile in your future, it would appear.

Requests are open! See below links for my other works, and how to leave requests. I write both canon/canon and canon/reader requests for your enjoyment

AO3 | Fanfic Masterlist | Request Rules | Fic Trades Guide | WIPs

Tags: @claryeverlarkf

[kaledya]

HOWDY!!🌟🌟 I haven't been active on Tumblr for a long time, to be honest I haven't been active on any platform until recently.

I think it would be right to make a small update and let my followers know what's on my mind.

(And a little note, I am writing this article from a translation. If there is a mistake in any sentence or if it sounds rude, I sincerely apologize.)

First of all, I would like to talk about why I am  less active than before.

I don't want to go into too much detail about it, so I'll keep it short, and it'll be easier for you too!

I have a disease that worsens with stress, and I can say that this disease has leveled up because I have been stressed a lot lately due to some events.Now, for no reason or if I put too much pressure on that arm area my joints and arm start to ache. This means I can't draw for 2-3 days.In general, it means that I try not to use my arm too much.

But don't worry, thanks to my doctor I'm getting better quickly and I don't have as much ache anymore, much less! Almost gone now!!🌟🌟🌟🎉

And besides these, I was trying to get accepted to the university, but I learned that my drawing skills were not enough for the animation university!( I knew this actually, my anatomy is really bad but I wanted to try my luck) It's a little sad, but I'm not discouraged!🫡

 (I think my only regret was that my arm started to hurt in the middle of the exam after I had come such a long way. Why on earth would anyone make two one and a half hour art exams back to back??) Show some mercy to the students!!)😭😭

༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

I just need to focus on more art skills  and I will do that!! From now on, I will focus only on improving myself and my arts! YIPPE!!

About  HH SS AU or My's OC development

It saddens me to say this, but even though I've been drawing in the HazbinHotel fandom for months, I've lost my inspiration at the moment.I probably won't be able to share any content about HazbinHotel until I regain my inspiration because I can't think of an idea or get excited about series anymore.But of course this is a temporary thing, my fandom had faded before but then it blossomed again!!

This is valid for SSAU as well, I don't have any inspiration to develop AU or draw for AU right now. 

And thank you very much to my followers who have liked and supported my HazbinHotel content so far!!!

Same goes for my OCs, I'm putting my OCs like Constantine and Serenity and the archangels on the shelf for now.Of course I will use them again in the future when I get inspired about them again, I love my babies!

About SSAU inspired fanfics Thank you again for loving this AU and for being inspired to write your own fanfic!!!

It makes me really happy to see you having fun And it makes me proud to see that I inspire people!! 

But from now on I don't prefer to use my HH OCs to write Fanfics,There are a few reasons for this but the main one is that I can't give you much feedback anymore and I wanted you to know that and I really don't want to upset or disappoint anyone when it comes to feedback.

Of course the fics about SSAU that have been written so far can continue, I have no problems with them, have fun!! I just want you to know I won't be able to give feedback  to you, or it will take a long time 

 This is of course temporary, I will let you know when I return to this fandom or change my mind about this!!

Some people ask about YouTube, I don't plan on posting any content on YouTube anytime soon.

Thank you in advance for respecting my opinions!

In short, yes, these are what I was going to say. It can be said that I have switched to the Gravity Falls fandom at the moment and I am sort of making my childhood dream come true by giving fanart to this fandom.And this is something that makes me very happy. 

Good morning, and in case I don't see ya, good afternoon, good evening, and good night!

[felicjana050896]

Maximus - the main antagonist in the series?

I finally watched Fallout and I want to comment on one thing, apart from the whole Cooper and Lucy relationship, because there are a lot of analyzes on Tumblr and Twitter (after watching the series, I will immediately rewatch it to find some additional hints, and if not, it's just for fun, because the series for me... was a masterpiece, it's been a long time since I couldn't break away from the series like I did from Fallout, especially since I was playing games, so it was wonderful to feel this atmosphere again, to sum up the sentiment completely took me far away...), so I'll just link some of these analyzes and hints here, in case someone hasn't read it:

It's 100% CGI, you can see how at the end that thread moves completely unnaturally, there's no way it's real, it had to be CGI and it had to be for something, it makes no sense to add such a little, tiny detail with CGI after nothing..., after all, money is spent on it, it's one thing to write "I love you" in the background, and another thing is to make a heart out of thread using CGI... (at least that's what I think, I don't know anything about CGI, but even such a small thing must cost a bit... :D )

Apart from the fact that Max and Lucy have practically no foreshadowings and no chemistry, and they DON'T KNOW each other at all, because their whole relationship is based on "I met a nice girl/boy and I think I like her/him", because let's be honest, there is no talk about love here, they liked each other because Max helped Lucy with the radiation and Lucy helped Max get out of the armor, they helped each other and were nice to each other, that's all... but it's not enough to talk about love, liking each other yes, but not about love (I'm surprised when people, for example on Twitter, write that Max and Lucy love each other, where...???) and as I mentioned above, they don't know each other, they know practically nothing about themselves, about their plans, dreams, tastes, perception of the world, etc., they know nothing about each other, they have barely met, and their entire relationship is based on the fact that in this world it is simply difficult to have any other person, so they instinctively grab whatever comes first. Lucy dreamed of getting married and having children, she was taught to focus on the ,,survival of the species", her whole wedding was pure ,,politics", and in the end it turned out that she married a bandit who then tried to kill her, while Maximus probably never didn't think about these matters, surrounded by practically only guys and focused on military life..., so their entire relationship is based on: ,,he's/she's nice, ok, I'll take it", that's why their relationship seems rushed and has zero chemistry , so in my opinion it is not a bad writing (like with Chaggie from Hazbin Hotel in my opinion), it is supposed to be like that and it makes logical sense, as I have already presented above, this relationship is supposed to be quick and without chemistry, because it is supposed to show their standards, how low they are, in this world... and Cooper, on the other hand, comes from a completely different world...

By the way, unlike Max and Lucy, who nevertheless spend some time together while traveling sensibly, we don't see any specific conversations between them that could bring them closer to each other, as I wrote above, they don't know each other and in fact they don't even try to get to know themselves, while in the case of Cooper and Lucy, Lucy constantly asks Cooper questions, and sometimes he answers (in fact, not directly, but he answers), they have a conversation about torture, Lucy asks Cooper why he is like this, why he continues this ( scene with cannibalism), Lucy asks what he is (water scene), etc., Lucy asks Cooper questions, wants to get to know him, wants to learn more about him, and he also learns more about her through her talkativeness (e.g. the initial scene when Cooper and Lucy meet for the first time and Lucy tries to diplomatically calm him down, or the scene when Lucy gives Cooper the vials), Cooper and Lucy have already gotten to know each other more than Max and Lucy, and now Lucy has gone with Cooper....

But leaving Cooper and Lucy, because this post is not about them, let's move on to Max..., Max, who in my opinion has a great predisposition to become the main or at least one of the main (because the most main may be those from Vault-Tec) antagonists in series, why....

At the beginning, I was positive towards Max, unlike Lucy, who seemed naive and stupid to me at the beginning, and I don't like such characters (of course, I liked Cooper from the very beginning, after all, Hancock was my Fallout husband in Fallout 4 ;) ), and then she surprised me in the scene with her husband, when she ,,killed" him (almost, but still), I didn't expect such a change in the character at all..., later she surprised me by the fact that she is not as stupid as she seemed in the in the beginning, yes she is naive but not stupid, she just had to get out of the bubble called the Vault and I can't wait to see how her character will evolve in season 2 after all this and being together with Cooper..., I want to see her show her claws..., I want to see even more how, under this guise of a naive girl, there is actually a strong and dangerous woman who can cope on her own and is still fair and honorable..., I love such characters :) , but I had a different experience with Max, whom I liked at the beginning, but the further into the forest, the more I felt like ,,guy, you make more and more stupid decisions, what's wrong with you...", at the beginning Max seemed to me as reasonable, honorable, fair and a real soldier, and at the end I only saw him as an unreasonable 15-year-old boy making stupid, irresponsible and evil decisions with his own ego problem... sorry, but this character gave me the vibe at the end that he would go towards darkness, and when he finds out that Lucy is allied with Cooper..., a guy he fought and who completely defeated and humiliated him..., a guy who, by the way, he hasn't seen since that fight..., Cooper and Max haven't had any interaction in the show apart from this fight, so Max has absolutely no knowledge that Cooper is ,,in the game", and that Lucy could have gone with him at all, he's probably already forgotten about him, and when he remembers..., I'm really curious about his reaction....

The first and most important thing about Maximus in the series... in season one, when asked why he joined the brotherhood, he replies that to ,,hurt the people who hurt me"... that's not a praiseworthy answer..., this is not a good answer..., sure, I understand the issue of revenge etc., but as good and golden rules teach (speaking of Lucy's golden rules, because she sticks to them and this is what distinguishes her from, above all, Maximus) revenge brings no good..., Lucy, despite everything, didn't want to take revenge on Moldaver, even though many people she knew died because of her, her father was kidnapped, and she almost died, she didn't want to take revenge on her, of course, she was out of her own turf and surrounded by enemies, but still, her goal was to free her father, not revenge, while Max's goal is simply revenge, he doesn't want to, for example, rebuild Shady Sands or be a good knight who helps people, bring peace to this world, NO, he just wants revenge..., he wants to become a knight for his own selfish purposes, not for other people, while Lucy does things for other people, wants to free her father, helps Wilzig, worries about dog while Cooper is dragging her, helping Cooper with the vials, helping the ghouls (of course she didn't know and probably wouldn't understand that they were wild, her intentions were good, and that something bad came out of it is something she couldn't have known at that moment), she also helps in vault 4 when she first thinks something bad is happening there, and then she tells Max to return the core and kills his mother out of mercy, just like Cooper killed Roger (I think at this point, after the incident with wild ghouls, Lucy understood what Cooper did then and that it was good after all), Lucy does everything to help people and live according to the golden rules, while Max is selfish and thinks only about himself, leaving aside the issue of revenge, he also says that he wanted something bad to happen to Dane, of course he didn't really do anything to them, but he wanted something bad to happen to them... what kind of person do you have to be to want them to become your best friend harm, just because they got what you wanted..., from the very beginning the series shows us not to have any illusions about Maximus and that he is not really and will not be a good guy...., he let Titus die and sure, the guy was a dick and I would probably get angry too and want to kill him, but kill him anyway... quickly... while from what we see, Max just lets Titus die slowly, I don't know about you, but for me there is a difference between killing someone quickly because he deserved it, and letting it happen and WAITING AROUND him until he slowly dies... that was cruel... I would understand if Max killed him, but he KILLED, he showed some humanity despite everything, even though the guy deserved to die, and he didn't wait next to him and listen to him slowly die... it was evil....

Then, when he has armor, he enters a situation with a guy who raped a chicken (Cooper would be really angry :D ) and instead of learning the whole situation, calming them down and finding out what's going on, who is right, he immediately takes the side of the one who is oppressed, thus oppressing the one who is actually right, takes him brutally by the hair and is happy about it..., seriously..., you are happy about this situation..., even if he were helping a good person, I don't think so that there is something to be happy about here..., although what I really think he enjoys is the power, the power that the armor gives him..., this is bad again... if someone likes the feeling of power so much, power and control, it always reflects badly on him..., then (after painfully holding the innocent man all the time) he throws the guy to the ground and when the other explains the situation that took place, Maximus doesn't even apologize..., he is only distracted and then says, ,,Okay. On your way, citizen." what..., as if you hadn't hurt this ,,citizen" a moment ago and didn't judge him badly..., not at all, there's nothing to apologize for here..., it's better to go on your way..., God..., this was the scene from which my opinion about Maximus slowly started to go down, because even with Titus I still made excuses for him (even if it was cruel), but from that moment Maximus with starting with my grade of his character as ,,4+", at the end of the series he dropped to a grade of ,,2-" and it's not that this is a poorly written character, NO, in my opinion it is a very well-written character, just a bad character man and I mean assessing his humanity, not the creators' writing, because in my opinion it is very good :)

In addition, of course, we have the issue that he lies to everyone that he is Titus because he wants to be a knight and clearly wants people to admire him (again, the issue of his ego), at the beginning he clearly wants to kill Thaddeus in cold blood, but then he changes his mind (apart from what killing Thaddeus would give you..., even if you came back with the head, you would be responsible for two deaths..., come on...), then of course he tries to kill him again after he tells him the truth..., then we have the Vault 4 arc in episode 6 and halfway through the episode when Max goes to the armor that is in the room, he looks at him through the glass with a stupid smile, he turns around and with that smile and behavior, with his body movements, he looks to me like he told them ,,See, this is my armor, this is me, I'm a knight"... it looks as if he wanted someone to come up to him and ask him about it, and he could brag about how cool he is, because I really don't know how else to read this short scene...:

Sorry for the poor quality, I did it on my phone.

then he turns back to the armor and his facial expression changes, he frowns:

and we have a close-up of the entrance to the core, and Maximus sees the guy next to him screwing in a light bulb and asking where it came from they take electricity, he goes to that place and wants to take their fusion core..., literally at that moment he wants to brazenly steal their fusion core, the people who helped them and cured him, he wants to take away their only source of energy..., or Maximum is so stupid that he doesn't know that this is literally their source of survival and thinks that they can cope without him, although it's still vile and I don't believe it, or Maximus is just a vile, evil and selfish man who doesn't matter with no one else but himself and what would make him feel good..., just look at his face at this moment...:

he knows that he is doing something he shouldn't and he is clearly doing it with full premeditation...

later in the plot, in episode 7, when Maximus sees the inhabitants of Vault 4 doing something to Lucy, which Maximus does..., of course he doesn't find out about the whole situation first, he doesn't try to eavesdrop on what they're talking about or anything, he just rushes in in armor and starts attacking everyone around, seriously... how stupid and irresponsible it was of him, I won't even mention... and when they finally release them, which Maximus does..., he takes the armor with the core with him, without thinking that it is their only source of energy and, what's most funny, he doesn't want to give it back..., NO, he wants to keep it so he can walk around in his big armor and show everyone "look how great I am!", says that he needs a core for his armor, and without the armor he won't be a knight, Lucy tells him that a knight shouldn't steal, and Max replies ,,with this armor, I can help people", how have you helped people so far..., you let escape a chicken rapist..., besides, what kind of help is it if, in order to provide this help to people, you steal something that will put other innocent people at risk of death..., you can't build something good on something bad, poisonous roots, will give poisonous fruit, no other way..., then the best thing is..., because be careful... he is trying to MANIPULATE HER! Yes..., this guy who supposed wants to be good, noble, fair..., no wait..., he wants to be a knight to take revenge..., nevermind..., it's up to him anyway fits..., he manipulates her, playing on her feelings, telling her that he wants to help her find her father and asks her if she would give up the core if it meant she wouldn't get her dad back, if it was up to the core to get her father back..., only then Lucy convinces him to give up the core when she says that if his father found out about it, it would break his heart and that she can't do that, only then Maximus gives up on convincing her and decides to give up the core. Lucy is his moral compass here, and it's possible that she would put him back on the right path if she were with him, but in the end, Lucy chooses Cooper and leaves with him.

To sum up... where do people who ship Lucy and Max have this good and beloved Max... where... where is Max a better person and a better match for Lucy than Cooper... (because I saw some comments under some episodes of the series that ,,Ghoul is evil and Max is good and honorable"), so far Max makes more bad decisions and does it with full premeditation and/or out of his own stupidity..., when Cooper, when he does something, it has a purpose..., he never does anything without a reason, yes, he shot Roger, but he did it out of mercy, first he made Roger remember the good times, so that in those last moments he died happily (this is one of my favorite scenes, if not my favorite, it was sweet and touching despite the situation...), he shoots Wilzig, but in the foot, probably so that he won't just run away, it's not to kill him, since he probably at that moment he thinks that he has to deliver him alive, because it is only from Wilzig that Lucy learns that only his head is enough, not himself, he kills people in the town, but only those who attacked him, he doesn't go around houses and doesn't kill random people..., kills "guards" who were bad for him, and one obviously wanted to kill him, but he doesn't kill their boss, interestingly..., he kills, of course, three guys at the beginning who are also ready to kill him and they want to force him to work for them, after practically lying in a coffin underground for 30 years, he kills the farmer's son, when the son reaches for a gun, you can see here how Cooper is poking this son to see if he is capable of doing it, but he himself doesn't reach for the gun until this son reaches for it, Cooper always wants to know, to be sure whether the man he is killing really deserves it, whether there is really a point in killing him, unlike Maximus, who never finds out who he is really guilty, he prefers to just ,,go with the wave" and he orders the one he finds guilty at first glance, he even wants to kill Thaddeus at the beginning (of course he doesn't do it in the end, but he wants to) even though the guy hasn't done any harm to him yet (and bullying ,,at school" is not a good reason to kill, it's not a reason at all), and he's not torturing Lucy like some still claim, even though Cooper himself and the entire scene says he's using her as bait, not torturing her, and yet there are still people who say he's torturing her here..., really I know that some people sometimes have trouble reading the situation on the screen, but when the entire situation on the screen screams "BAIT!" and the character who uses the bait says directly that he thinks torture doesn't work and uses her as bait, like one can still claim that there is some torture in this scene..., are there really people who cannot hear and see things that are said directly..., how..., Cooper used to be a good guy and he still is, deep down, he's still that good guy. When there is a scene from the past when Cooper has to play a slightly worse guy on camera to show that his character also makes mistakes, he doesn't want to do it, he doesn't like it, because in his opinion a good person should be good and not make such mistakes, Lucy will direct him back to the right path, and he will teach her a little about life, this is the perfect dynamic of two different, yet very similar characters who can and do influence each other's development.

And I don't know about you, but for me this scene is terrifying:

this whole brotherhood is like a religious sect, and at this moment Maximus has become a kind of prophet and that look in his eyes...:

for me it is disappointment combined with the desire revenge, disappointment because he found out that the father of the girl he liked is responsible for the destruction of his house and probably the death of his relatives (we never have memories of Maximus' relatives, which is interesting, so it is not certain), and he managed to escape, and the desire I don't think I need to explain revenge... Maximus' plot in season one starts with revenge and ends with revenge, it's his plot, whether someone likes it or not... and in my opinion, as a result of everything I have described, he will change into an increasingly worse person, he was not good from the beginning and will only get worse....

This is a long post, as usual for me... unfortunately, I don't know how to write short... and besides, I like it when all the details are brought to light :) , that's the end, thank you for reading and have a nice day/evening/night :)

[wosoluver]

The diner

laura freigang x reader

Billie Eilish x woso prompt list

-> this is based on some of the lyrics and not the actual song (since the song is basically about a stalker).

Laura Freigang Masterlist

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

'Don't be afraid of me

I'm what you need'

You had arrived to Frankfurt over a season ago. A new transfer from Wolfsburg.

You weren't german and over your time in the country you had collected about two pages worth of words and frases you actually understood.

But that wasn't what made it hard for you to connect with others or make lasting friendships.

Laura picked an interest at you even before you had arrived. You had played against each other quite a bit and had a few friends in common.

Like her, besides being an athlete you had a creative vein.

Yeah, you had friends. Lena, Jule and Sveindís. But they didn't share many interests of yours.

You two had hit it off immediately. You were shy but Laura didn't measure efforts to interact with you.

She was quite good at that. Making people feel seen, and wanted.

Since moving to Frankfurt, since meeting Laura, you had found your people. She introduced you to a group of friends, and it was heaven. Finally having that again, since moving abroad.

You became inseparable. Trained together, grabbed lunch and coffee together, even went to little trips together, when you got a day or two off.

Moving into a more romantic thing, came naturally. Although you were kinda stuck in a weird place right now.

You liked her, a lot. But you were scared, of things not working out.

Of putting something you hadn't had in a while, in jeopardy.

'I saw you on the screens

I know we're meant to be

You're starring in my dreams

In magazines, you're looking right at me'

Laura had lost count of how many times she would open her instagram to check on your account.

She felt struck by you, from the first game you had played at, on your debut.

After figuring out you were new, she managed to find your account by a tagged picture, that had been recently posted by Wolfsburg.

She followed you instantly. Which you follow back, but thought nothing of it. It was normal for players to be mutuals on social media.

She loved your style, how cool and effortless your posts seemed.

When she found her team was to sign you over the summer, she swore somehow, she had silently manifested this.

'Bet I could change your life

You could be my wife

Could get into a fight

I'll say, "You're right"

And you'll kiss me goodnight'

Now the two of you sat face to face, in a booth at your favorite diner.

And of course she would bring this up. It was obvious this had to be sorted out, for the sake of her feelings and yours.

"Why not?" she threw that question out following it up with a gulp of her drink.

"It's not a good idea." you tilted your head, a bit to the left, avoiding her eyes.

"And staying in a situationship is?" she would question you until she got an honest answer.

"Lau, it's complicated."

"It's literally not." she said reaching to you from across the table. "you could move into my apartment."

"You said they don't allow cats there."

"We can find another apartment then. One with big windows for the sunlight to come through." There she got you. Knowing the love you had for sitting by a window and reading a good book.

"We can get married in Greece over summer. I'd be perfect, our friends and family will probably be on break, so they'll be able to make it!"

"I haven't even accepted being your girlfriend, slow down." your free hand brushing a lock of her hair, behind her ear lovingly.

"I promise to take you out for sushi at least once a week." she was using all her weapons now...

"I don't have space in my fridge for your films." you toyed with her.

"I'll start using a digital camera." she quickly witted at you.

"What about my stubbornness?" this time, seriously considering everything.

"If we ever get into an argument, I'll say you're right." she answered with a beaming smile.

"Were you even planing to take a no for an answer?" she had got what she wanted, you were done for and your small smile now matched hers.

"I knew you felt the same."

"I hate you." you played.

"You don't."

"I might love you a little." and she gasped faking offended.

"you mean, a little too much?"

she was right, you did.

──✩₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧──

Idk if I love this but oh well... might have gotten some inspiration back?!?

Let the Billie x woso prompts posts begin!

Like, share and comment 🩷

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

hello! i’m love your post and arts so much! I look at your posts after a hard day and my mood immediately changes to excellent. can I ask a couple of questions?

which pairing with Ethan do you prefer?

and… can we get to know you better? a little biography?

Thank you for your time! I'll be waiting for new arts! (sorry if i made mistakes, my english is not so good. im russian)

i like basically every ship with ethan! it mostly depends on the mood im in, but if im being honest, mithan, winterfield, and wintersberg gets frustrating to think about because they all dont treat ethan well canonically... lethan is fun because they have never met and i can make my own assumptions!

i used to like wintersberg the most and i still do like it, i just have expanded my horizons to other ships as well...., its mostly like a punchline to me though. they have the funniest potential which is why a majority of their posts is just joke comics. i do not like how people try to erase how karl is arrogant and egotistical tho. thats like removing the flavor.... the way karl acts is just very funny to me, hes so lame in a good way and i like how everytime he talks to ethan it sounds like hes twirling his hair and kicking his feet. canonically speaking, karl was very much in the wrong for trying to use rose and not elaborating and i will die on this hill. ethan is not in the wrong for being disgusted and angry that karl would ever try and propose that in the deal. karl is very arrogant so when ethan says no to him it makes him mad and he tries to use fear to get ethan to take his deal (kicking his chair and warning him) i like karl, i like how messed up and arrogant he is but i dislike how people try to portray him as a nice guy. however, in a AU where everythings the same except he doesnt try to use rose i do enjoy the dynamic they could have, especially if the teamed up (not with the deal where they use rose. ethan wouldnt agree unless karl never involved rose in the first place). karl is just a very entertaining character and i like him a lot, hes funny and his personality can be extremely hilarious

mia and ethan is pretty tragic and thinking about it too much makes me a bit sad, imo in a reality where ethan survives re8, he needs to divorce mia. im not saying ethan needs to hate mia and never talk to her again i just dont think they should be so intimate together because of her behavior... please do not take this as anti mia. they loved each other dearly but it wasnt healthy. their relationship was kept afloat by lies and mia doesnt change even though she deals with the consequences of her own actions in re7. she actively tries to hide her past from ethan and is mostly focused on trying to move on and have a normal life even if ethan will have to live the rest of his life in the dark.

she loves her family so much, shes very afraid of them leaving her so she hides all the bad things in the hopes that they wont leave. its selfish, its human, its real, her character is so amazing and i love her. she doesnt learn from re7 and hides important information from ethan again. i geniunly think they should have gotten divorced after re8 if ethan had survived. its tragic and its sad but they love each other so much. it sad because they both geniunly love rose so much but they themselves shouldnt be together. its just sad to think about it. whenever i draw them it usually takes place before re7. they should have divorced on good terms and shared custody of rose.........

ethan and chris is also frustrating to think about... chris is a major jerk in re8, whenever i draw it, its under a unspoken AU that chris did not behave the way he did in re8. his weird behavior in re8 is probably for a meta reason imo. capcom wanted to set up a twist villian so they make chris very vague and unesscarily cruel. while its frustrating that they turned chris into a jerk for the sake of a twist, it still happens in canon and i will forever roll my eyes whenever i see him on screen. he did what he thought was best but imo, execution matters more than the intentions. same applies to mia. they both did things that hurt ethan because they thought it would be the best but in the end they just hurt ethan.

all the ships ive discussed with people ethan has met canonically just makes it look like i dont even like the ships... LOL ... ethan just has horrible luck with the people he meets i guess... but i do enjoy the ships and drawing them, but again all of them come with the canon baggage that ends up making me sad because everyone treats ethan poorly whether they had good intentions or not

which is why leon and ethan is the most fun to draw without getting stressed... LOL... they have never met but just drawing what i think their dynamic would be like is very fun.

please dont take this post personally, this isnt a post declaring why ur fave ship sucks, this is just my own personal preferences and in the end i draw all of them anyways

if i had to rank the ships based on drawing silly comics it would be

wintersberg

mithan

lethan

winterfield

wintersberg has the funniest potential just because of karl and mithan can be funny if u water it down to "i love my wife so much" and said wife comes home with suspicious amounts of hard cash

i enjoy making joke comics far to much

if i were to rank the ships based on how healthy they would actually be for ethan it would be

lethan

winterfield, mithan, wintersberg (no particular order)

sorry 😭

leon and ethan have literally never met but imo it would still be the healthiest because ethan gets to start new

the three other ships r all unhealthy in some way, at least canonically without changing much about the characters (i do like winterfield but just because of how chris behaved in re8 it knocked them down)

i cant even rank them on personal preference because my opinion changes so often 😭 it changes based on discussions i have with my friends or recent art i see that inspires me... me and my friends recently had a discussion about mia and ethans relationship which made me very frustrated and sad with mia so i defiently wouldnt be drawing them anytime soon... meanwhile i hvae been talking to a friend who really likes winterfield often so the conversations we have give me art ideas and i end up drawing it more. if a friend of mine really enjoyed wintersberg or lethan and talked to me about it often id probably start drawing it more, the joys of being a multishipper

it changes a lot based on how im feeling and if im in the mood to draw something funny or something serious

sorry u asked a really simple question and i responded with a essay

and a little bit about myself is that i go by crumb, i am 18 and i go by all pronouns and prefer it/its

im vietnamese and live in texas

i made this tumblr acc solely so i could post my ethan art and im a re7/re8 girly so if ur here waiting for me to draw the re1-re6 characters im sorry u should probably expect nothing

i also make personal animations sometimes which u can find here

thanks for the ask and sorry for the rant!

[autismprotocol]

TMAG Theory Board Update (EP 11-12)

Hi guys sorry about the late posting I've just started a new quarter of college and its been pretty hectic. also got into my school design BFA program so pretty stoked about that! Anyways lets get into the Episode Breakdowns because even though not a lot of lore related things happened I still have a lot to talk about

For the breakdown I'll separate each by episode in sequential order

What Happened in Episode 11: Marked

Celias Rude Awakening- we jump right into the weirdness straight away with Celia waking up on the side of the interstate. she indicates that this is not a weird occurrence and ends the scene by telling someone named Jack that she's "on her way." If you remember episode 8 after Celia and Sam talk to Gerry and Gertrude, she mentions stuff about wanting help with her own mystery. When Sam asks about it she says she's looking into Time travel, other dimentions and teleportation. Many people have theorized that maybe Celia is just a super heavy sleepwalker, but I think the she teleports random places out of nowhere. This could be a side effect of her reality hopping if this Celia is originally from The archives universe.

As for the identity of Jack I'm not quite sure about that yet. I cross referenced the name Jack with past episodes of TMA. The only thing that came up was Jack Barnabas from the statement about dating Agnes Montague (aka an avatar of the desolation and Jesus-like figure for the cult of the lightless flame) So Unless Celia is secretly Agnes of Agnes reincarnated , I can't find any way to link Barnabas to Celia. (if anyone has a theory feel free to send it my way.)

Sam Lore- this one is pretty minor story-wise but I thought it was interesting. Before the statement for the episode is presented we get some classic Sam and Alice Banter ™ most of it is pretty lighthearted but I noticed Sam mention something that could indicate he might be an amputee.

These could not mean anything and I find it weird that it hasn't been mentioned until now but thought it was kind of cool and I will probably be drawing sam with a prothetic leg in the future cause I really like this head-canon. It also begs to question if he is missing a leg. it might have anything to do with his past as a Magnus institute test subject but then again could just be a fun character detail added by Jonny and/or Alex .

The Statement- Getting into the statement we get another Ink5oul appearance. Also possible Ink5oul identifying as she/they. (and lets be honest being a fear avatar is pretty non binary core). I found this Episode gave me a feeling of a hybrid between the Vast, Buried and the Flesh some people are theorizing that is might be a new entity called the Deep but I think that the fear of the ocean could easily apply to the vast or buried. Not much to say about this story though pretty standard Magnus horror that also gave us a hint to what Ink5oul's goal could be/which entity they serve.

Post Bonzo- Gwen has a debrief with Lena after her first Externals Liason assignment and her meeting with Mr. Bonzo. Undoubtedly Gwen is still pretty shaken from her encounter, even arriving late to work due to sleeplessness. Gwen is able to ask Lena a few questions mainly she wanted to know who's name was written on the letter given to Bonzo

Lena is largely unhelpful but tells Gwen she should have worked it out by now and if not to pay close attention to the case load for the next couple of days. before the latest episode my guess was Klaus because that is the only person mentioned so far that the OIAR intends to kill. but more on that later

Marked- Now were getting to my favorite thing about this episode. This episode title can have two meanings. The first is the more literal interpretation. Tattoos are marking of the body and the case this episode was all about tattoos so easily a good name would be marked. But I believe this is a red herring meant to misguide listeners who have not consumed all 200 episodes of TMA because if you know the world of Magnus Archives the term Marked takes on a entirely different meaning.

In TMA the term marked is used to indicate that somebody has been influenced by one or more or the fears and are one their way to becoming an Avatar. I think this could be a coded way to tell the audience someone in the OIAR has been marked. I have two potential candidates

Alice Dyer- Alice has been having dreams about the Institute after her and Sam's adventure into the ruins. also she mentions feeling like someone's watching her (common to people influenced or fed upon by the Ceaseless Watcher/The Eye) My guess if she is marked it would be by the Eye.

Gwendolyn Bouchard: Probably the most likely culprit. The main way an entitly tends to mark people is through encounters with other avatars. Gwen has just had an encounter with Mr Bonzo last episode who I strongly believe must be an avatar of some sort.

What Happened in Episode 12: Getting Off

Aww Sam!!- Sam asked Celia out and it was adorably awkward. not much to say I just loved this interaction and I'm longing for a new Magnus brand office romance hopefully is wont be an agonizing slowburn that ends tragically like a certain pair of morons from Archives (I love you Jon and Martin but Jesus christ)

It's Bonzo time bitches!!- Probably one of the most gruesome Magnus statement I've ever listened to (good work Alex) Mr Bonzo completely annihilated some poor dude at his bachelor party. Based on the date of the Incident the I can confidently say that whoever Baz (the groom) was he was our mystery person the OIAR sent Mr Bonzo to get rid of. Along with some of the bloodiest imagery we learned a few things about Bonzo. The most interesting detail is that Bonzo has to be summoned by playing his theme song I think the CD of his theme song acts somewhat like the tapes did in TMA by materialising out of nowhere. Also fun fact you know that torn seam that is right down Bonzo's middle? that is actually is his mouth lined with rows sharp teeth so I guess I know that now (so fun) Moral of the story dont f*ck with Mr. Bonzo

Alice knows something: Theres been this recurring audio glitch throughout TMAGP thatnks to a few extremly observent fans we have started to relize that these glitches are not at all random and are actually letting the audience know when a character is lying (i actually reposted somones deepdive into all the istances of this glitch so far if you guys are intrested in knowing more) why i bring this up now is becuase since we know when any charater is lying we also know when they are being truthful if there is no glitch when they say somthing and at the end of this episode this interaction occurs

Alice goes ahead and makes a joke about this to annoy Gwen but the fact theres no audio glitch when she says "I know" means she does actually know who is behind the OIAR and is activly refusing to share it with Gwen or the others. What do you know Alice!?

and that's about it im already loving these next batch of episodes and am so excited to learn more (ERROR has to show up somtime )

thanks to everyone who resonded the poll on the last update I will continue to include drawings into the breakdown even if it takes me a little bit of time to post. anyways I wrote this all in one sitting and I'm about ready to pass out so thanks again and the ask box and comments are always open for discussion and theory crafting.

-Echo