#James is a sweetheart

[franklysirius]

Just James listening to Barty´s knowledge and being really interested and he keep asking question and tell Barty that he’s so smart and interesting and Barty who never have that before (bcs his dad is an as***le), is just crying because he need James so much and maybe maybe he’s not unworthy of love

[silence-between-seconds]

Marauders and their responses to "would you love me if I was a worm?"

Remus: No wtf

Peter:why....why would you be a worm?

James: Yes. I would bulid a house for you. I would feed you. I would spend every second of the rest of your life with you.

Sirius: what if we were both worms. And we kissed.

[mischievous-thunder]

Character profile:

Such a feisty pretty thing

[groovyangelkisses]

okay so I can’t help but get the lyric “washing my hair, doing the laundry, late night tv, I want you only” by Miss Lana Del Rey herself out of my head. I keep thinking about it having something to do with Logan! More like X1 Logan (but any era you want) and maybe reader just saying it to Logan during soft and gentle sex after a long day? I’m feeling very cliche tonight. (love your writing btw)🎀

thank you for the kindness, sweetheart! this has been slowly corroding my soul recently so, absolutely yes. this is sooooo cage fighter!logan! 💋ྀིྀི

this is my first long, smutty fic. please be gracious with myself, and my work!

beautiful, deep normality.

nsfw— minors dni, please ₊˚ 🦢・₊✧ : my ode to lana x logan, not proofread, SMUT, oral (f recieving), copious "i love yous" during sex, fem!reader, cage fighter!logan, established relationship, spit (with love)

3:08 am. and no sign of him yet. cradling a bin of laundry to your hip, you ignore the exhaustion pulling at your shoulders, waltzing through your small home, tinted blue by a lonely moonlight. the small tv in the corner, usually crowded by a grumpy logan in his favorite recliner, hums lowly— static on static, you feel electric waiting for him to come home.

the velcro rollers lightly pull on the baby hairs at the nape of your neck, and tracing your fingernails over the offending pull does nothing to quell the stinging. the house feels empty without the presense of logan, without the feel of his towering being lurking on shadows of the walls or placing weight onto your bed. your chest bounces, up & down, as a glimpse of a life without logan settles on you like the soft weight of his white beater you wear.

waiting up for logan was never an easy feat, in fact, it's the hardest part of your day. waiting for greatness, for comfort, for ease and safety had the hairs on your arms pricking in anticipation. i wonder if he's thinking of me, you pause your folding minstrations to ponder, though you know the answer. "always am babydoll," he'd say, "just can't seem to shake you."

the scrape of the front door breaks you out of your trance, you turn, a small smile resting on your sleepy face. the house seems warmer, the nauseating blue of the grainy tv seems brighter— all because of him.

logan looks down as he enters the small space, shaking his keys in his left hand as he shrugs off his denim jacket; lined with the gorgeous, warm flannel pattern you sewed in for him a few weeks ago.

he doesn't meet your eyes as he toes his boots off, softly moving to his chair with the silent shuffle of his socks on the wooden floor. he plops himself down with an exasperated head shake, leaning his head back to rest when you notice it. a deep cut on his lip, healing slower than the rest of him.

"baby? oh, baby, what happened?" you coo, rushing over to him to perch yourself on the arm of the recliner— your usual spot. staring ahead at the late night talk show on the television, his hand instantly assumes its place, resting on your hip as he sighs, "'s nothin. shit day, is all." you nod, understanding why he blankets himself with silence; his work life is reduced to hit, after hit, all to provide for you & him.

your long nails scratch the hair at the nape of his neck, a desperate attempt for him to meet your eyes. his eyes flutter closed, the bright neon of cable swiping across his exhausted, sweaty face like a kaleidoscope. your other hand reaches up, lazily, gently, swiping across his face & tracing his beard. logan growls low in his chest with affection, and for a moment you think he'll meet your eyes— abandon the shame of his labor, the metal corroding sadness that a girl as beautiful as you is stuck with him in this shitty apartment. but he doesn't. this must've been a terribly exhausting day for him, you think to yourself.

with a light tap to your hip, his lips curled inward, logan stands and stretches his arms above his head. his triceps tense as he attempts to find relief, staring at the ceiling as he decompresses. he's too far away, much too far away.

"lo?" you rise from the chair, your his beater riding up across your tummy as you gaze up at him. "hm?" his hand rubs across his hairy cheeks and chin, his eyes finally opening to look at you.

in this light, his stature looks larger than usual. broad shoulders highlighted by the moonlight filtering in from the broken blinds. chest heaving in and out of the light reflecting from the kitchen— making a stripe across his white beater, in and out with his breath. his hands twitch, making a fist & releasing with the scattered applause on the television, and his socks dig into the soft carpet beneath his feet. stale sweat glistens on his face, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone as the overhead fan slightly blows hair across his forehead— the gel you put in for him this morning having melted from his match tonight.

and you want him. the thought of the weight of him on top of you consumes you, for a moment. so big, so scary and mean to the outside world, but so gentle to you. he needs that gentleness now, you can see it in his loving, hazel eyes. you & he stare at one another for a few beats before you speak, your hair rollers clacking as you maintain, "i want you, logan."

he was thinking it, too. just.. after the matches he went through today, he had no idea how to tell you just how much he wants you, too. logan's breath stutters, the strip of light from the kitchen bleeds into his shirt as he moves closer to you. eyes softening with desire, you double down, "i want you on me, logan. all the time." your head bobs as you nod, needing him to understand just how much you adore him.

breathless, though you've both been in this position many times, he wraps his arm behind your back, pulling you into him desperately. it seems that he's finally taken his first breath of the night, like he's finally free and safe— no longer King of the Cage when he's with you. logan's hand slides down your trembling arm, moving yours to rest above his heart as he cradles your head to him, "so sweet to me. i don't understand it."

"don't need you to, lo. just need you to know it... know that i want you. always will" sighing into his chest, you tear up. he pulls you back, a piece of hair falling over his forehead as he gazes down at you. in the darkness of your home, he tears up too, kissing you with both hands cradling your face, "take care'a me. need you so much right now" he stutters between kisses.

it's a blur, the descent into your bedroom, logan guiding you backwards as he kisses you. somehow, despite the lack of vision and control, this is the safest you've felt all day. he lays you down on your bed, hair framing your face as you smile up at him. and one finally stretches across his face, too. "beautiful. too fuckin' beautiful, ah christ, you make me ache" logan smiles, hand coming up to touch his chest in a movement of genuine infatuation. and you giggle at him, and his smile grows wider as he nips at your collarbone, hands framing your face like he is almost afraid to touch you.

the curlers dig into the back of your head as he moves down your body, lips dragging across cotton and skin. "did'ya think of me today, bub?" he asks, mid sniff of the skin of your womb, warm from his touch. you nod down at him, a little embarassed and flushed. "yeah?" logan smiles "when? when'dya think of me?" he pauses his movements to relish in your shyness— ever the tease. closing your eyes, your hand falling across them as you giggle, you place one hand in his hair and sigh, "washing my hair... doing the laundry... every second, lo" sweet, loving eyes stare up at you mid-kiss as the moment grows serious, you repeat "every second." logan grunts in response, calloused fingers peeling your white panties down your legs as his hands run down them— eager to touch as much of you as he can at once.

placing your legs over his strong, but weary shoulders, he leans in to lick a stripe up your cunt, gooey spit warming your thighs. logan sighs breathlessly into you, kissing and nipping at your button as his eyes close in relaxation. this is just as much for him, as it is for you.

his blunt fingernails dig into the sheets beside you, afraid to touch, ever gracious with his meal. you bring his hand to yours, locking fingers as he looks up at you, tongue never ceasing his adoring attention as you writhe and pant. making love to logan is one thing, one soul-shattering experience, but this? this is logan making love to you with the same mouth he claims never knows what to say. but every word is gospel to you, every prod of his tongue, as well.

"so sweet" he finally speaks, voice gruff as he releases your hand to cup your lovehandles, holding you in place. your release is right there, his nose leaving lovebumps on your clit as he swirls his tongue, dipping into a spot made by the universe only for him. you squeal, legs kicking his shoulders, as you attempt to back up from the intensity. but logan holds you in place, yanking you back to the edge of the bed, his heavy arm draping across your tummy to keep you in place as you wail. "c'mon sweet girl, 's okay, i can take it," he whispers, sloppily kissing your folds, big thumb reaching down off ur tummy to rub your clit in the sweetest little circles.

you cry out, mouth forming an "o" shape as you finish, logan mocking your face with a growing smile overtaking the wide-eyed "o", "'s a good girl... good girl, baby." bringing his thumb to his mouth, he licks the rest of you off of the pad quickly, moving back up to watch your face as you breathe and gather yourself.

the weight of him on top of you feels so good, so fulfilling, so right. you're so interlinked with one another, that as you whine from the aftershocks, he whines lowly with you unconsciously— your pleasure is his, it seems. with a hand behind his neck, fingers once again twirling in the hairs at the nape, you pull him into a kiss as he groans. "so good" he chides, "want you all around me, honey."

he pushes his jeans and boxers down, throwing his belt to the floor with a clink & raising his eyebrows in slight shock at the sound. you laugh, and he looks back at you with a flushed face, bad day seeming further and further away as the end-of-summer air floats in from the window. your back arches as he places his pillow beneath your hips, always wanting you to be as comfortable as possible.

logan lays fully on top of you, kissing you as you drag your nails down his back. pulling back, he exhales in pleasure at the drag— a welcomed pain, compared to the punches he'd taken, to appear normal, of course, at the bar. his hand trembles as he leans down, holding his cock in his hand as he drags it across your weeping cunt.

logan's breath falters, catching in his chest like a tied satin bow, "you love me?" he asks you. "y-yes... so much.. so so much, logan" you remind him, growing desperate for all of him, always.

"you-you want me?" his eyes are closed as he asks you, too afraid to look, too afraid to face the possibility that maybe one day, you won't. you cup his face, feeling the dried down mixture of his spit and your pleasure on his beard. no words are spoken as you nod, looking into your lover's eyes with sincerity. he mirrors your nod, interlinked as always, and slowly pushes into you, eyes clenching shut as he grits out "fuuuck, my baby."

logan bottoms out, letting you catch your breath from the stretch of him. he breaths roughly through his nose, gaining his control as he gets lost in the sounds, the smells of your shared apartment. the tv, long unwatched, continues to blare in the living room. the ceiling fan clicks with each rotation, and you're underneath him— as soft and pliant and good at taking him as you've always been.

lurching forward, logan connects your lips, a slight drag in his hips; back and forth, back and forth. you whine, lips parting in bliss as he looks at you, a line of spit connecting you as you pout. his head falls, one hand placed atop of your head as he wiggles his hips into you, deep enough that you swear he can feel your heart beating. "i want you. every... every fuckin' minute i'm awake, d'ya understand me?" he gushes, finally letting himself go in the pleasure, in the pain, exhaustion and you.

"i-i understand" you whisper as his hips lightly pick up his pace. there's so much slick between you, that when he slips out for a moment, he's gutted, frantically trying to find that warmth again as he pants, "theeeere we go... thas' good, thas' right"

the domesticity, the weight, the way he trusts you— all of it leads to you losing your breath, back arching as you warn "l-lo, 'm gonna...i-" he cuts you off, head snapping back up from watching himself disappear into you to kiss you, hot tongue comforting you. "i love you, f-fuck, thank you for waitin' up for me. sweet girl, i fuckin' love you. come, c'mon, i wanna feel you"

and when you do, when the stars spread across your ceiling and your eyes roll back, you can feel his hips stutter. pulling logan closer to you, you whine "more more more" and the poor, exhausted man loses it, his head falling next to your own as you feel the full weight of his metal skeleton as he chokes out a final, thick, rumbling grunt.

losing his breath, logan pants, hand grasping to find your own as he comes down from his high, spend leaking onto the bed beneath you. "jus' a few more minutes, babydoll. tell 'er to love me for a few more minutes" he asks, slowly starting to fall asleep with his face in the mattress, as your cunt clenches, loves around him.

an uncomfortable position? sure, but he won't move, you couldn't even make him. nothing could stop him from needing you, always, just as much as you need him.

the ceiling fan squeaks, the tv drones, the moonlight bathes him, the rollers pull at your hair, and he's finally home, in you.

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Blond Sweetheart Tourney: Round 1, Poll 49

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Laios Touden

He cares about his sister so much he was willing to solo a red dragon to rescue her. He doesn't care about money, power, or fame, he just wants to help his sister and learn about monsters. He might seem weird and offputting, but his deepest desire is to find a way for people and monsters to live in peace together to make life better for everyone. One of his biggest faults is he assumes the best of everyone.

William James Moriarty

William is a silly little softy who...okay, murders people, but he does that because he's trying to save the country and he's so guilty about it all the time and hates doing it and canonically likes "tea" and "smiles" and dislikes "tears"

I can think of no character that is more self-sacrificing. William sees the pain of the world, sees his brother's pain, and he seeks to change it. To rectify the wrong. To make people get along and to see each other as human beings. To get his brother surgery, to fix classism, to implement the Moriarty Plan. And yes, he does *terrible* things to get there -- and he hates himself for it. And so when it comes time to end the plan, he takes on the burden of everything any of his underlings ever did and tries to purge it, and himself, as the last remaining "blemish" on the world. He gave and gave and gave and gave and gave -- I see no one more deserving of being called "The Blond Sweetheart."

[mooningoverthestars]

girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls girls

[pearlynia]

Sirius after James told him he's dating a boy: Oh! You've got to tell me all about it!

Sirius after he found out who the 'boy' is: don't tell me anything, I don't wanna hear how you corrupted my innocent baby brother.

[demaparbat-hp]

This is what happens when you want to celebrate your best friend's birthday... And he doesn't.

[sainthowlzon]

Update to the Redacted fan made listener Icons

[moonsstan]

james “if i have a crush i’ll marry them” potter

and

regulus “if i have a crush i’ll hide forever in the deep shadows” black

[bbyd01]

love💗

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 25!!

July 25th <3

Bundle - @jegulus-microfic - words: 396

First part Previous part

The group bundled themselves around the fire, its flames licking the crisp evening air as it hissed and spat sparks over the blabbering kids. They'd mixed a few of the groups together, apparently trying to save time and space. So here Regulus sat, he was with Barty, Evan, Dorcas and Dorcas' cabin mate - Marlene something if he has that correct. Oh, and James. James Potter - who had his head sleepily resting on Regulus' shoulder, hot breaths huffing against his neck every few seconds. 

It was driving Regulus more mental than he'd like to admit.

Music played quietly in the background, something by Fleetwood Mac surrounded them with the beautiful guitar strumming and the smooth vocals of Stevie Nicks.

"Love this song." James mumbled, head still on Regulus' shoulder. He slowly getting used to the flushing feeling of having James' weight on his shoulder, and he never wanted to move.

"Yeah?"

James nodded into his neck and hummed, before something in his head clearly caught his attention as he gasped. "Did you know that the album r-" James cut himself off as quickly as he spoke. "Sorry, rambling." He muttered.

Regulus frowned, why wouldn't he want to listen to James? He'd listen to that man talk and talk any day of his life, who ever made James feel like he couldn't speak? No, that just wont do. James voice deserves to be heard, his thoughts - the good and the strange, because everything that came out of James Potters mouth was perfect, no matter how weird it is. Even when it doesn't make sense, Regulus will happily bask in the sound of his deep, joyed, excitable voice for the rest of his time.

He just prayed he wasn't the one that made James feel like this, because of course he wanted James, so much that it was painful.

"No- wait." He looked down to James with a soft smile, the smile that he reserved for one person and one person only. "Carry on, what about the album?"

"What?"

"I want to listen, go on." He rested his own head onto James' as he could feel the heat of the brunettes smile before he burst out into facts about the band.

Regulus remembered and savoured every word of every sentence, listening and giving input when he could, he could never forget a word of what James Potter tells him.

Next part

[comsumedsoul]

I hc Sirius being touch averse, and that James respects his boundaries even though he's super affectionate, because he'll never do anything to make him uncomfortable. Maybe Sirius initiates a bit of a physical contact sometimes, and that just makes James immensely happy to know Sirius is comfortable enough in his presence to do that, to want that.

[academic-vampire]

“The stars are wide and alive, they seem each like a smile of great sweetness, and they seem very near.”

-James Agee, Essay: “Knoxville: Summer of 1915.”

[linusbenjamin]

Happy Birthday Josh Lee Holloway 🎂 (b. July 20, 1969)

[nerodivergentgrimreaper]

More Random Redacted Headcanons 

Damian was only allowed to watch PBS kids growing up 

Asher constantly compares Milo and Sweetheart’s relationship to lady and the tramp

James wears a silicone wedding band on his hands and he wears the actual ring on a chain 

Smartass is the oldest sibling by a significant age gap 

Freelancer and Lasko both cried when they met Huxleys mom’s for the first time because they gave them warm mom hugs 

Elliot taps his fingers when he’s nervous 

Sweetheart used to smoke but stopped right after they met Milo 

Babe hates the taste of coffee 

Damien has a severe peanut allergy 

Huxley gave up peanut butter when he moved in with Damien because he decided Damien’s safety is more important than his love of PB and J’s 

Guy can play Riptide on the ukulele 

Lasko’s listener love to doze off in the car if they aren’t the one driving 

Tank accidentally picked up a bunch of languages and that knowledge has gotten them out of a pinch multiple times 

Gavin is currently trying to teach Freelancer how to roller skate 

Sweetheart’s original plan wasn’t to work for the department but after life got in the way it was one of their only options 

David bought a motorcycle right before his dad’s accident but after everything happened he sold it 

Babe grew up in a sad beige household 

Sweetheart was a wild child in highschool but they mellowed out once they got to college 

Honey loves peeps marshmallows and Guy thinks its the cutest thing 

Asher, Tank, and Sweetheart share a mutual love of Lady Gaga and early 2000’s club music 

Milo and Damien also listen to Lady gaga but not with other people  

Tank knows all the words to all of Kesha’s early music 

Angel watches keeping up with that Kardashians and David secretly finds it interesting