#i didn't realize until i wrote this lmfao

[founderscouncil]

"What's the difference between an apple, and an orphan?"

"The apple get's picked."

He groans internally, not sure whether he should be thankful it wasn't any worse, or be offended at the joke itself. "Katherine... do you know how many of my friends are orphans?" He counts himself lucky that Kelly Donovan, as much as he sometimes misses having her in his life, is away from their little town and out of the grip of supernatural creatures.

[happy74827]

Ice Breaker

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You start to see your acquaintance/friend in a new light after saving your life.

WC: 6994 (oh, jeez)

Category: Fluff, Eventual Smut (lmfao), Lime/Spice, Slow Burn(ish), {TW: Drowning, Improper Use of Claws (Kinda a joke, kinda not… it’s hinted in the very beginning), P With P, Slight OOC? MDNI!!}

Why am I petrified to post this?? Literally shaking.

So, uh, please be nice to me 😭🫶 Smut is NOT my strong suit. This is like my 3rd attempt at it and the first time I’m posting it. Kinda scary. But I wanted to be that person who wrote all genres (dunno why), so here’s a fic containing mostly all genres? I guess?

@yoursacredqueenmother helped with some parts (mostly the ending) and my confidence so shout out to my queen!! Love you girlie 💞

『••✎••』

Warmth and pain. It’s all you felt. Your lungs were aching, begging for the oxygen that the cold water was denying you. Your vision blurred as your body screamed for air. The feeling of a strong pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you out of the depths and into a blinding light. You felt the air hit your face as you were laid onto solid ground, a large hand pushing on your chest.

Suddenly, you felt the pressure of a mouth being pressed against yours, and it took a moment before your mind registered what was happening.

It was then a sound of a gasp and a deep, throaty growl sounded from above you, and the warm, comforting weight of the hand was suddenly gone. Only replaced by a sound that resembled a sword being drawn from a sheath.

And then, pain once more. You felt something lodge into the airway, and your body was instantly set into a frenzy, attempting to rid itself of the object. In an instant, the sound similar to a sword repeated itself, replaced only by the feeling of being turned onto your side. Your body began to convulse as a mix of the icy lake water, and your stomach acid spewed from your throat.

When your body finally stilled, your eyes fluttered open to reveal a blurry vision; you began to hear things more clearly. Muffles turned into a voice, which turned into words.

"Shit… Fucking shit," Deep and gruff, almost a growl. You remembered that voice. You knew that voice. "Jesus, you’re ice cold. Fuck!"

The sound of a zipper was heard, and before you knew it, a weight was placed over you, and you were off the ground and in the air.

That’s when you peered up and saw him. The very same man who claimed he was far from a hero. He was carrying you with his arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. He was constantly flickering his gaze to look down at you while you did nothing but stare back.

It was after a moment that your senses were coming back to you, and you began to notice things more clearly.

His jaw was clenched tight, and the look in his eyes was one of concern. You didn't know if it was your imagination, but it looked like there was a tint of red around his iris, which was now a piercing hazel color. The muscles of his face were taut and strained. The furrow of his brow gave him a look of worry while the twitch of his lips hinted at annoyance.

"Lo…" You didn’t realize the impact the water and the ice had had on you until you tried to speak, the sound coming out weak and broken. His gaze flicked back to you, and the red ring around his eyes was gone.

"It’s alright. It’s… You’re gonna…" The cold air hit his face as he opened his mouth, causing his breath to turn into fog. "You’re gonna be fine, Sweetheart. We’re gonna get you somewhere warm, alright?"

You couldn't help but shiver at the term of endearment and nodded in response, knowing that any attempt to speak would probably just come out in a croak.

You didn’t remember much after that, only bits and pieces. You remember the sudden quietness as he ripped open the door of his truck and settled you down on the passenger seat. You remember him securing his jacket around your body, his hands lingering a bit too long on your shoulders.

You also remembered the absolute mental breakdown he had when his truck wouldn’t start.

He had slammed his fist into the dashboard, the impact leaving a dent in the metal, while a loud pang signified the adamantium bones beneath. He was muttering curse after curse and had his head leaned back against the headrest, eyes screwed shut, and a look of frustration and pain upon his face.

It was only when he slammed his head into the steering wheel, clearly aggravated by the failure of his truck, did the it finally decide to work.

You don’t remember the drive, only that the heat was cranked up to its maximum, and he was speeding, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight and his knuckles turning white.

But you remember the look he gave you when he lifted you from the truck, carrying you into some off-the-road motel. For a while, you thought he actually broke into it, but he paid during your trip, both in and out of consciousness.

And now, here you were, completely swaddled in a mass of blankets, in front of a fire that Logan had made as he was pacing the room. His brows were furrowed, and he had his fingers running through his hair in an almost desperate manner. He looked stressed and maybe even a little scared.

Your mind was still foggy, and a wave of pain shot through your head. A wince escaped your lips, and you instantly regretted the noise as Logan snapped his head to you, his eyes wide and his lips parted. He strode over to you, squatting down to your eye level.

"How do ya feel?" He asked, his voice softer than usual.

"F-Freezing," you whispered, your teeth clacking together. Logan looked around frantically, unsure of what to do.

"There’s no fucking hot water in this place," he muttered to himself. "What a shit hole. Fucking cheap bastards. Shit." He continued to ramble, cursing up a storm.

"Logan," you managed to breathe out, your hand reaching out from under the covers and grabbing his bicep. The man was tense as hell. "I-It's fine."

His eyes widened a fraction at your touch before narrowing in frustration.

"It ain't fine," he said, his tone rough. "You’re freezing to the point where yer shaking like a goddamn leaf. How is that fine?"

Your brows furrowed as you tried to sit up, his arms reaching out to push you back down, but you shrugged him off.

"Logan, I'm not… I’m not dying."

He stared at you for a moment, the crease between his brows becoming more pronounced before he shook his head, the muscles of his face twitching in annoyance.

"That ain't the fucking point."

"Then what is the… the point?"

He stood up, beginning to pace again. You watched him carefully as he rubbed a hand over his face, mumbling and cursing to himself. You could feel the frustration practically radiating off him.

You were going to ask him what was wrong, what was the problem, why he was acting so strangely, when his gaze met yours and your breath hitched in your throat.

He looked so… different. You were used to his scowl and his hard features. Quite honestly, his personality was trash mixed with an added dash of salt. But now, even though he held those same hard features, your eyes took it in a whole new way.

His scowl made him seem protective and concerned. His furrowed brow seemed almost endearing, and his clenched jaw gave him a sense of determination.

It made you want to think back on the way he held you and how his arms were secured around you, making you feel all kinds of—

Warmth…

The idea that made you jolt forward, almost falling off the bed.

"Shit!" Logan was at your side in an instant, his arm reaching out and supporting you. "Are ya tryna kill yourself? Lie back down."

"No," you shook your head. "You."

He frowned. "What?"

"You," you repeated, a small smile stretching across your lips. "I need… You."

He stared at you for a moment, his face dropping into a look of confusion. It would’ve been funny if you didn't feel so damn cold.

"Me?"

"Yeah… I n-need heat," another shiver went through you. "And you’re like a furnace. An overheated dog."

"Like a what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"A… just— I'm cold, Logan." You were starting to get tired. "Please."

He blinked at you. Then, he looked at the ground, then at the bed. He was silent for a moment, and you were afraid he wouldn’t do it. But then, his hands were finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it up over his head.

It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. So, why did you suddenly feel a heat spreading in the pit of your stomach despite him not even touching you yet? Why were your eyes suddenly wide and focused? Why were your lips parting and your mouth becoming dry?

There was just a perfect amount of hair trailing down from his belly button and leading down into the waistband of his jeans. It was almost like a treasure trail but thicker. His muscles were so well defined, their cords protruding from the skin, and he was flexing and twitching as he moved. His stomach was taut, and his hips were slightly visible. His chest was broad, pecs perfectly formed, and the lines between them were the most appealing things you had ever seen.

And right in the center was the all too familiar chain, with the dog tags dangling down, resting just over his sternum.

You couldn’t help but swallow thickly, a strange and unfamiliar heat washing over you. You didn’t really realize how long you were staring until he spoke.

"A lot of girls would pay good money for the view you're getting," he smirked, and the heat in your stomach only got hotter.

You averted your gaze and coughed into your fist. "Sh-Shut up," you mumbled, pulling the blankets back and slipping under the covers.

Logan sighed as he moved the blankets away from your goosebump-covered skin and settled himself in next to you.

Instantaneously, you sighed as the heat emitting from his body enveloped you while he tensed at the contact.

"Shit, you really are freezing," he grumbled.

You couldn't help the slight moan that came from you as his warm arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing flush against your back, and his breath ghosting the back of your neck.

You could sleep like this. In fact, you probably would because you were so tired. Your eyelids felt heavy, and the feeling of his warmth made you feel safe.

For a moment, the only noise that was heard was the crackling of the fire, both your panting breath and his, and the sound his throat was making as he swallowed.

"I, uh," his voice was lower and a lot deeper than before. It seemed to rumble through him and into your back. "I thought ya died. When I found you, I thought you were dead."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your mouth went dry. Damn, already with the emotions.

"Well, I'm not," you told him, your voice a lot softer than his. "I'm fine. I’m okay."

You felt him nod against your shoulder. "Right."

And you knew, deep down, that he was lying.

Logan was never a good liar. You knew it from the moment he stepped foot into the mansion. And this, his actions, was living proof of what a horrible liar he was.

"Logan?"

He grunted. "Hmm?"

"Why did you do it?"

You could feel the way his eyebrow quirked in confusion. "Why did I do what?"

"Follow me, and save me," you stated simply. "You had no reason to."

He was silent for a moment. "And, what? I was supposed to leave you there to die?"

"Yes."

"That ain't—"

"But it is, Logan," you said, and he was quiet once more. "You said it yourself. You aren’t a hero. So why did you save me?"

You always knew the answer. But even if you were currently freezing, you wanted to hear it come from him. It was tiringof hearing the same phrase over and over.

And clearly, you poked a nerve because in an instant, his arms were off of you, and you were being flipped over, with all the blankets thrown to the floor, only to find yourself face to face with Logan.

"Is this you pulling my teeth?" He growled, a look of anger on his face. "It sure as hell ain’t a damn good time."

You couldn’t stop the way your eyes kept flickering down his chest, his pectorals tensing as he breathed.

"You say you aren’t, but you are," you told him, not even listening to him. You were too focused on the way the flames of the fire danced along his skin. "Heroes save people. You saved me."

"This isn’t about heroism." He seethed, and the anger was evident. "It’s about you being a stubborn ass and getting yourself in a damn dangerous situation."

"Dangerous situation?" Now it was your turn to get angry. "Are you serious? Are you actually serious?"

"Who the hell just storms off to go frolicking around on top of a goddamn lake? What the fuck were ya thinking?"

"It’s called ice skating, you stupid bastard," you snapped, feeling your body returning back to a chill due to his absence. "I didn't expect it to break, and I didn’t expect to f-fall through. I don’t have f-fucking x-ray vision."

"Any person with half a brain could see how thin the ice was," he spat. "I mean, look at you! Ya, look like a goddamn popsicle."

"I was trying to enjoy myself, Logan. Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"Enjoy yourself?" He barked out a laugh. "You could've fucking died. That isn't enjoying yourself, Icypop, that's being fucking stupid."

"Don’t call me that."

"You are fucking stupid," he hissed. "Do you know what that would've done? Do ya know what it would've done to—"

"Logan," you snapped. "You… This… This is proving my point. If you truly weren’t a hero, you wouldn’t have cared. You would have let me drown and gone on your merry way."

"Anyone would have cared."

"Not anyone," you retorted, "Not everyone."

"You just think that because it's what you want to think."

"No, it's the truth."

"No, it isn’t."

"You saved me, Logan," you whispered, your eyes finding his, which were still burning with anger. "Get it through your head, you idiot. You saved me. I wasn’t even aware you had followed me, but you c-cared enough to keep me from dying. You aren’t a bad guy, Logan; stop trying to convince yourself you are. Because, clearly, you aren’t."

The two of you were staring at each other, neither of you speaking a word. Your breaths were coming out in puffs of air, while his were heavy and almost raspy. The look on his face was intense, and he was practically trembling with anger.

You couldn't tell what was running through his mind, but you had a feeling it was along the lines of, "I'm not a fucking hero. Shut the hell up," or, "Just let me believe what I want to believe."

You didn't know which one it was, but either way, it would be pointless to argue with him.

He would always try to convince himself that he wasn’t a good person. He would try to convince himself that he wasn’t meant for such things.

Even with proving the opposite in so many situations, he still would never take the hint.

And now, with the way he was looking at you, the two of you breathing in the same air, the heat of his body surrounding you, your eyes trying to forget his state of undress, it was hard not to argue.

You didn't mean to do it, but your hand lifted up, and your fingers grazed the chain of his dog tags, sending a shiver through his body.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down, taking him in for a second time, your eyes trailing down his chest and his abs before finding the patch of hair leading into his—

You swallowed thickly before meeting his gaze again. His eyes were dark, and his pupils dilated. The way his chest was rising and falling, and his jaw was clenching made it obvious he was trying to control himself.

Caught, you quickly dropped your hand and averted your eyes. You didn’t want him to see the effect his body had on you, even if you had no control over it.

"I'm not a hero," he finally whispered, and it wasn’t his words that surprised you, but his voice.

His voice was deep and raspy, and you couldn't stop the way the heat was pooling in the pit of your stomach or the way a strange feeling was taking over your mind. "But, I do care. A hell of a lot."

"Lo—"

"Don’t call me a hero for caring," his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to his body. "I care too much for worthless shit like that."

Your throat went dry. He was so warm, so very warm.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. Your breathing quickened, your heartbeat hammering in your chest. Not a single coherent thought came to your mind. All you could think about was the way his breaths lined up with yours. The way his skin was brushing against yours. How he smelled so very distinctly Logan, and the way his lips looked so very inviting.

It was taken too far when your tongue slipped out and wetted your own lips, and Logan's eyes darted to the movement.

He stared for the longest time, seemingly frozen, his chest rising and falling heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He pulled away only an inch or two, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

What was he thinking? What was going through his head? You wanted to ask, but you were afraid to break the silence. Afraid to say something and make him come to his senses.

So, instead, you watched his face carefully, the way his lips parted, and his pupils dilated before his eyes found yours once more. Reading him was hard, but this… this was an expression you had seen before.

It was when Jean was flirting with Scott. The way she would lean close and give him that smile, and the way his cheeks would heat, and his eyes would dart down to her lips, then back up.

This was attraction.

And it was an expression you didn't think you would see on Logan. Not for you, at least.

You were one of his close friends, but did you play nice with each other? No. Did you get along? Yes, but those rare arguments the two of you had were heated, and sometimes they didn't make sense.

Did you tease him and mess with him? Definitely.

But never did you think that would lead to this.

Logan was attractive. He was built and tall, and he was very muscular. The definition of a man. His rough, hard features only made him more desirable. And his short temper and bad attitude just drew women to him like flies. They tend to lean towards the bad boys.

You didn’t. You picked the nice ones. The kind ones. The ones who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You had been with a couple of guys since coming to Xavier's, and all of them had been so nice and so polite, but you did come to the conclusion that they were rather boring.

You couldn't remember the last time you were flustered by a man, or the last time your heart pounded so quickly, or the last time your breath caught in your throat.

But here was Logan, suddenly giving you those feelings and making your stomach do flips. The man who pretended to be the opposite of everything you wanted in a partner was the only one making your heart race.

You didn't know if that was good or bad.

This feeling, though, felt good. Felt so very good.

The way his arm was around your waist, his hand gripping your side, his body flush against yours, his lips just inches from your own, felt too good.

The heat from his skin felt good. The feeling of his warm breath was good. His scent was good. Everything was so, very good.

You were tired, and your eyelids felt heavy. The way your limbs felt like lead and how cold you felt was getting to you. You could feel your body starting to relax.

The only thing keeping you awake was Logan.

He was still so close, and his grip hadn’t loosened. But you couldn't help it when your eyelids started to slip closed, and your body went slack against him.

Logan's grip on you tightened, his arms holding your body tighter, his breath catching, before you felt the softest of touches on your forehead.

Kisses… Kisses were being peppered across your forehead, and it made you shiver.

His lips were so soft. His kisses were so gentle. It was so different from the hard exterior he held. It was like he was a completely different person.

So, you looked up and found yourself nose-to-nose with Logan. His eyes were staring right back into yours, and there was a soft look to his features.

The hand on your waist moved and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin there.

"You need sleep," his voice was low and raspy. He was whispering as if speaking any louder would break the moment.

"That’s not what I need," you replied just as quietly, not breaking eye contact.

His brow furrowed. "What do ya need, darlin'?"

Words were hard to find and hard to put into sentences. You could’ve said a lot of things. Food, a shower, more blankets, a cup of tea, but the truth was, none of those things would satisfy you.

And the longer Logan's eyes were locked with yours, the more assured you were that what you needed wasn't any of those things.

So, instead of words, you moved your hand to gently grasp the chain of his dog tags. It held the same warmth that was emitting from his skin.

You didn’t know if he knew what you meant or if he understood what you were trying to say.

But the look in his eyes and the way his grip tightened gave you the feeling that he did.

It was silent, and tense. But, it was comfortable, and so, very nice.

You didn’t know if you had the strength to lift your body and kiss him. Or if he had the willpower to.

However, you didn’t need to make the decision. Because when he lifted your hair out of the way and buried his nose into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely hovering over your pulse, you were certain.

So, you did what any other girl would do in that situation.

Your hand tangled itself in his hair, and you pushed his face closer to your neck.

There was a growl, a deep, animalistic growl. One that shook your core from the heat in his voice, and the sound was almost enough to make you moan.

But you were surprised by the feeling of his lips pressing against your neck. You’d imagined with the way he was built, and with his personality, it would be rough and fast. But the way his lips gently caressed your neck, and the way his hands roamed your body made it seem like he wanted to take his time.

His mouth started trailing open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your neck, his hot breath sending good shivers through your body. He sucked and nibbled, making you shiver, and the way his hand moved to caress your waist was gentle.

It was so unexpected, but it was so very welcome.

His lips traveled up your neck until they were just behind your ear, where he placed a small kiss before nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"Warm enough?"

It was the first thing he had said since your neck began being attacked, and it wasn’t a question that had an answer.

Because, while you were indeed warm, the way his hands were roaming your body and the way his lips were on you was causing an entirely different kind of heat.

And it was obvious that he was trying to get his point across. The way his hips were pressed against yours, and the way his arms were wrapped tightly around you was definitely not helping.

You knew he could smell it, your arousal. And he could most likely hear your racing heartbeat and feel the way your body trembled.

He was waiting for an answer. He wanted an answer.

"Logan," you breathed, your eyes slipping shut and your hands finding his chest. His skin was hot under your touch, and you couldn't help the way you trailed your fingers down his pecs and his abs.

He shook a bit, clearly still not used to your freezing touch, but his grip on you didn't loosen, and neither did the way his body was pressed against yours.

He was hard. Everywhere. His arms were strong, his chest was defined, and his legs were muscular. He was a brick wall, and you couldn't help but admire it.

You couldn't believe how attractive the man was.

Logan Howlett. The guy who was an asshole. The guy who would kill a man with his bare hands. The guy who was working on his temper. The guy who would accidentally pick a fight at the drop of a hat.

The guy who just saved you. The guy who cared about you.

Your hand slid down his stomach, and his muscles contracted under your touch. You were getting closer and closer until you hit the brown border that held up his jeans.

Your hand didn’t stay for long because a hand greeted you, wrapping around your wrist and stopping your movement.

Logan lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and his dark eyes stared into yours. There was a warning in his gaze, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Stop," his voice was low and raspy.

Your eyes searched his face, but there was nothing there. No emotion. Just a blank stare. "Why?"

"Don't."

You ignored him and tried to move your hand, but he tightened his grip, making it so you couldn’t move it.

"Logan," you whispered.

"I said stop."

You looked into his eyes and noticed something. His eyes were darker, his pupils were blown, and the look in his gaze was intense.

And it finally clicked.

He was turned on, and he was trying to keep himself in control.

And, you thought about it. If Logan were to lose control, what would happen? What would happen if the man who could slice a man open with his bare hand was in a situation like this, with his hormones raging and his self-control fading?

You didn't think much of it, but when the thought crossed your mind, a rush of arousal surged through you.

You wanted him. You wanted Logan Howlett. And it was a surprise.

He was going to say another word, but your lips captured him, and the hand on your wrist immediately released you.

It was like a switch was flipped. Logan growled into the kiss as you tugged him closer by his hair. The kiss was passionate, and the way his hand slipped under the damp shirt you were wearing was almost too much.

While his one hand was under your shirt, the other was against the bedsheet, his body leaning over you. He was hovering, but his lips never left yours.

Your shirt was gone in an instant, ripped from your body, and tossed to the floor. He paid no mind to the fact that he had ruined a perfectly good shirt, and the only thing he cared about was your bare skin.

Your lips parted, and his tongue darted into your mouth, tasting you. You could hardly keep up, his tongue dominating your mouth and his hands roaming your body.

"Lo," you managed to moan against his lips before his mouth was on yours again.

He didn't reply, but the way his fingers were trailing over the skin of your thighs was answer enough.

It was getting hot, too hot, and Logan knew that.

He pulled away from the kiss, and the string of saliva that connected the two of you broke and landed on your chest. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were dark.

Your hair was messy, and you were still wet. Your body was shaking, and goosebumps were littering your skin.

You were looking up at him, your eyes searching his face. Your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling quickly.

He was staring at your lips, and the way they were swollen from the kiss, and his hands were trailing along the expanse of your stomach, before moving back down to the hem of your jeans.

Logan had undone them, and his fingers were playing with the band.

Your eyes didn't leave his face, but you were surprised when he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

He was waiting for something, and when you nodded, the next thing you knew, your pants were gone. The only thing that remained was his jacket, which you still had on from your lake experience.

It felt like a distant memory, one that was fuzzy and far off. It's odd how something as traumatic and horrifying as nearly dying could turn into something as heated and intimate as this.

Logan was watching your face carefully, his hand resting on your thigh, and his eyes were searching your expression. He was waiting for any indication of doubt.

The only thing indicated was desire.

He seemed satisfied with your reaction, and his hand slowly moved further and further up your thigh before the tips of his fingers reached the fabric of your panties.

His thumb was hooked under the band, and he pulled the black fabric aside, moving his other hand to unbutton his jeans.

He pulled the zipper down, and his hand slid into his boxers.

His head fell back with a sigh, his eyes closing as his hand moved along his length.

You watched, entranced, as he pleasured himself. You didn't realize you were biting your lip until his eyes were on yours, his eyebrows furrowed, and his breaths were shaky.

He let go of himself and leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours, as he struggled to hold himself together.

He was still waiting, and you couldn't figure out why. Why was he hesitating? Wasn't it obvious that you wanted him?

"Okay, Cowardly Lion, you can do this."

His head tilted to the side, and his nose bumped against yours. His breath fanned over your face, and his hand was gripping the side of the bed.

"Don’t call me that," his voice was gruff.

You grinned and moved your hand to the back of his neck, holding him in place. "Cowardly. Lion."

Logan growled, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through your body. It wasn't scary. Not even close. It was hot and sexy, and it made you want him even more.

He was hovering over you, and his hand was on the side of the bed, his knuckles clenching the sheets. For a second, you believed he’d let his claws out and slice right through the mattress.

But again, only for a second.

He was watching you, his gaze locked on your face. He was staring, and his eyes were dark, and the way he was looking at you was intense.

You didn't say anything.

So, his hand moved.

And his fingers hooked under the band of your underwear, and he slowly, oh, so, slowly, pulled the fabric down.

He tossed the garment somewhere in the room, and his eyes trailed over your body.

He was staring at you, admiring your body, and the way the moonlight shone through the window made it all the better.

Your legs were spread, and you were completely naked. The only thing that was covering you was his leather jacket.

Logan's eyes moved back up your body, and he swallowed. "You’re pretty great when you’re wet."

A smirk made its way onto your lips, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. "You should see me after I get out of the shower."

He growled, and the hand that was next to your head came up and grasped your chin, tilting your head back, and his mouth was on yours in an instant.

The kiss was heated, and it was a shock. Not a surprise, though. This was the original thought that went through your head. The way his hands were rough and the way his grip was tight.

This is how you expected him to be. Rough and fast. But this was not that.

This was so much better.

Your teeth clashed, and his tongue fought with yours, his body pushing you further into the bed.

You gasped into his mouth as his hand traveled back down to stroke himself a few more times before he was just outside your entrance.

You couldn't stop the whine that escaped you as his tip nudged against your core before his length started to push in.

His eyes slipped shut, and his hands caught him from falling. The bed creaked, and you could feel him trembling as he took a moment to collect himself.

When he had, there were only two things on your mind as the jolt of pain mixed with pleasure hit you.

One, you couldn't believe Logan had been holding out on you. This was amazing, and you could see yourself getting addicted to the way he made you feel.

And two, it was the way he had his jaw clenched, the way he was breathing, his hips pressed flush against yours, and the way his muscles were flexing.

He looked so good, and it was hard to focus on the fact that he was actually inside of you. His cigarette-stained breath fanned over your face, the way every time he moved slightly faster, he became more vulnerable and less guarded, the back of the throaty moans he made, the way his lips were swollen from the kissing and the biting.

All of it was a big turn-on.

His hands were gripping the bed, and his dog tags were bouncing off of his chest, hitting your skin with a cold metallic sound.

The way his hair hung in his face, and the way his eyes were dark, made him look incredibly sexy.

"Lo," you whimpered, and your nails scraped his shoulders, leaving red lines in their wake.

Of course, by the time he had reacted to the slight pain, they were already gone.

He leaned down, his arms wrapping around your body, and he held you close. He pressed his lips against your neck and sucked the sensitive skin.

It was quiet, except for the sounds of the bed creaking and the gasps and pants that slipped out every now and then. You weren’t very vocal, but that was only because you were more focused on how it felt.

And it felt so good.

It was a lot more enjoyable when it wasn’t painful, and you were more than happy that the pain had subsided and was now replaced with pure ecstasy.

He was big, bigger than you had originally expected. So, he had taken his time.

Well, not really. He had tried to, at least.

Logan had tried to hold out, but the way you had squeezed him and the way you had whimpered when he was halfway in had caused him to lose his grip on reality.

But he had tried to take his time. And that was what counted.

Your hands tangled in his hair and pulled his head closer, making him moan into your mouth.

He was moving faster, and he was losing his mind. Your lips were swollen, and the way your chest was rising and falling was amazing.

He was holding himself up, his arms flexing as his hips moved against yours, and the sound of your name falling from his lips in such a way was a sound you wanted to hear more often.

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppy and the way he was gasping.

But you were, too.

It was the first time, the only time, you had ever experienced such an intense high. And it was a rush.

Your head fell back, and your fingers tightened in his hair as your orgasm ripped through your body. You were shaking, and your mouth opened in a silent scream as the intensity of it all hit you.

Logan followed soon after, his orgasm hitting him just as hard. His was more brutal towards you, though, as he full-on collapsed into your body, his entire weight pressing into you as he came.

It was an experience you didn't think you would ever forget. Especially when he accidentally unleaded his claws and sliced through the mattress.

"Ah, goddamn it," he sighed and slowly pulled out. He was still on top of you, but he had turned his head to the side to see the damage. "I'm not paying for this."

You were breathing heavily, and your hands were tangled in his hair, your body shaking from the aftershock.

He turned his head to look back at you, and his dark eyes studied your face.

You were a mess. You had bite marks along your neck and chest, your lips were swollen, your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling rapidly.

Logan's eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were parted. The way his hair was a mess, and the fact that his eyes were darker than usual made him look extremely attractive.

You couldn’t help but notice how completely out of breath he was and all the sweat and the heat radiating off his body.

He was hot, literally.

"You, uh," you swallowed and tried to keep your hands steady. "You want to take a dive in the lake?"

It took a few moments, but eventually your question had registered, and you have never heard this man laugh like he had right now. He completely lost it, and he was laughing.

And it was a deep laugh. One that could make someone feel safe. One that could make anyone fall in love with him.

His laughter died down, and he turned to look at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "I think I'll pass."

"Oh," you breathed and bit your lip. "You don't know what you're missing."

Logan stared at you, and his hand moved from the bed to trail down your stomach. Blood was coating his knuckles from the five-second fight that had taken place when his claws had popped out, but he didn't seem to care.

You were staring at him, and the way his dark eyes were boring into yours was intimidating.

"How about," his hand slid down further, and the tips of his fingers touched your lower abdomen, "I take a dive in the shower with you instead? Can’t drown in the tub."

Your eyebrows were raised, "Am I that fragile that a simple shower will kill me?"

You were obviously joking; that soft banter had been something the two of you had always done, but there was also a hint of curiosity.

He sat up to look at you. His eyes were darker than before, and the way his hands were running along the expanse of your torso was sending shivers down your spine.

"Says the girl who slipped through ice," he leaned down, his arms caging you in, and his forehead was pressed against yours. "You really are—"

Crack.

Call it what you will: fate, destiny, bad timing, but there now, there was no way in hell he’d escape the expensive bill the motel would surely send.

The bed completely gave out.

It had taken a few seconds for it to register, the sudden drop and the loud noise. But, once you had, now it was your turn to laugh.

And boy, did you.

Your laughter filled the room, and your entire body shook. He started to blame it on the production of the bed, of course, but you knew deep down he couldn’t escape the big fat bill the motel owner was going to send.

He even got up to try to find another possible explanation, and as you pulled his jacket closer to cover yourself, you watched him try and fail to find one.

The smile never left your face, and when he turned to look at you, his dark eyes were studying your expression.

"You think this is funny?"

"Very," you grinned and leaned up on your elbows. "How about we go out for dinner tomorrow night, Edward?"

Logan's eyebrow raised, and he stared at you. You could see the visible disappointment on his face, and it was amusing.

"Alright, come on," he took hold of your arms, and pulled you out of the bed, jacket and all.

"Where are we going?" you asked and let him lead you out of the room. "The shower?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and led you into the bathroom, "I think it's time I teach you how to swim."

You grinned, "We have no hot water, remember?"

"Then, I’ll just have to make sure you don't get cold, won’t I?"

[forbidding-souda]

if you haven't already, could you do mondo, kazuichi and hajime with a goth girlfriend who's very feminine? tyty <3

Mondo Oowada, Kazuichi Souda, and Hajime Hinata with a very feminine goth girlfriend

I looked through my masterlists bc i thought already wrote one and that i wrote hella goth fics but appareantly it's only 2 so I'm tweaking. here you go anon ily here.

might be repetitive but who caresss

thumbs up emote

Sorry if it's underwhelming, I didn't realize how short it was until I read it over this morning. Highkey was high when I wrote the small scenario parts and the bold text. [next day, afternoon edit: wtf was i talking about this shit long ash LMFAO]

-Mod Souda

Mondo Oowada

❤ Perfect. Perfect for his aesthetic. Perfect for the atmosphere his home presents and you're such a perfect doll to great him at the gate of Hope's Peak every day. People are only surprised to know you two are together because of the fact that he pulled such a baddie. He'll wrap an arm around his shoulder and tell anybody who makes a comment to fuck off. He can pull. Duh. He's got you. But it's hard for anybody to take him seriously when he'll melt at the sound of your laugh.

"If you get your fucking," he wipes his cheek, "lipstick on me one more time." "You're going to what?" He stares down at his hand, the black lipstick smeared on the back of it from his touch. His cheek is stained. It's going to look ridiculous (but not as much as post-smear). His eyes hold a glare that's more intense than if you had just cursed at him. "Nothin'." Once again, he wipes his cheek, smearing it more. "Don't do that shit again." You in fact do that shit again.

❤ Don't get your makeup on him. It ruins his masculinity. His gang makes fun of him when he rides with black lipstick on his face, forehead to chin.

❤ On the back of a motorcycle in all black with heeled shoes brrr brrr.

❤ Yeah but tuck those necklaces in.

❤ And omg he's going to steal some of your hairspray sorry but he will. Whether you mind it or not. He's going to do it.

❤ + your over-the-top makeup yesss the both of you attract so many stares.

❤ I imagine people would want to take pictures of you two. He'd fucking hate it but you're like yes of course!!!!

❤ He tries to avoid main cities anyway as much as he can anyway.

.

Kazuichi Souda

❤ Worships you like it's nobodies business. You look just like a dream. The prettiest girl he's ever seen. From the cover of a magazine. Literally that fr. He's that obsessed with you. He's the type to carry you over a sewer grate so you don't get your heels stuck in it. He helps you tie your corsets and he'll buckle your boots for you. He'll kiss your neck whenever you're leaned over the bathroom counter doing your makeup. His intimacy is acts of service, but only for you. He'd do anything for you.

"Kazuichi?" You call from your bedroom. In the early morning, he's in the living room watching TV. At the sound of your call, your tone mildly concerned, he stands without hesitation. But you weren't in danger or anything. You were just having a hard time buckling your bra. Once he opened the door, you glance over. "Do it for me." It was more of a command than a request. "W-Woah there," he laughs nervously, taking a few steps at a time. "Sure, yeah. Sure thing." With no sign of the internal fluster, he hides the urge he gets to just stare at your half-covered chest like it were glowing. He steps behind you, focusing his eyes on your shoulder blades before strapping on the second hook of your bra. You had only managed to get one in. "There you go, gorgeous." You hum, a small smile on your face. "Thank you." Looking over your shoulder at him, you see his composure and how it changed drastically while you weren't looking. His cheeks were pink and his eyebrows were furrowed with distress. "Yeah," he says breathlessly, finally getting a look at your chest. "Anytime."

❤ Lord knows he just wants to gobble you whole like om nom nom.

❤ Yes he does the cooking yes he does the cleaning.

❤ He's your malewife.

❤ It makes sense to me somehow that he would be with somebody who's hyper-feminine. It's a good match.

❤ I'm in between the thought that he'd either make goth girlfriend jokes or hate them. I feel like he'd hate seeing memes about it bc it makes him feel like they're about you specifically. Bc you're HIS girlfriend. HIS.

❤ Shows you off.

❤ You'd probably be taller than him in some of your shoes.

❤ You'd get along with his classmates hella.

❤ And he'll give you the cutest pet names. Enchantress, spider, might call you evil as a tease.

.

Hajime Hinata

❤ You're both each other's scary dog privileges. With his glare and your outward appearance, it makes you two completely unapproachable. Hangouts in the dark of night have never been safer. You don't have to be scared of shit. He's here, and you're here. Fair's fair. There's not a person in the world that would want to bother you, and the fear of annoying you breaks any onlookers confidence. Plus, you're gorgeous, and it's threatening.

"Press this button to jump." He handed you the controller, and now he's practically leaning over you as he places his hands over your own. "I got it Hajime." "Just making sure." When you try and hone in on the button, your nail gets in the way. You smile to yourself before outstretching your finger to place the pad of your finger on it, your fingerprints practically sticking to it as you press down hard. But your nail had reached the button ahead of it, grazing down, lifting a bit upwards. Your face scrunches up at the sensation. "Uhh, are you alright?" He asks, his eyebrows furrowed but smiling with adoration. "I'm good," you chuckle. "Beauty is pain."

❤ I see him as not gaf or being overly appreciative of the fact that you're goth. It's just your style. Nothing to get handsy over.

❤ He does like uniqueness tho and ofc you're the embodiment of that.

❤ Fucking hates when tourists want to take a picture though because they'll exclude him. I imagine tourists are the people that would walk up to you, locals not so much.

❤ Literally those memes of goth girlfriend with plain gamer boy.

❤ He can work an all-black wardrobe though.

❤ He looks a bit alternative just naturally. So replace those white button-ups with a black one and bam. You'll match.

[j-nope-not-today]

HII! It’s me again, Hru?? Could I request how the TMNT guys would react to a reader that gets really lightheaded when they stand up? Like they’ll sit up and they’ll either lose their eyesight for a couple minutes or come close to passing out. But when they lose their eyesight they don’t tell anyone LMAO like they just walk around trying to guess where their going and if someone talks to them they’ll try and play along pretending as best they can that everything’s fine and nothings going on LMFAO

Tysm for your time! Srry that I wrote a bit there lol, I hope u have a great day/night! （＾ν＾）

TMNT reaction to s/o who gets lightheaded

A/n: Hello! I'm doing good. Thanks so much for requesting! I hope you also have a good day/night

Raphael

This man almost smacked the absolute shit out of you

You had him so scared and he thought you were passing out on him and if you actually did pass out

He's gonna lightly smack you until you wake up.

Honestly gonna immediately take you to Donnie to see if your okay.

Maybe get some tips on how to help you out.

You honestly have him so mf concerned bc what does he do with this information?

He'll honestly just picks up on when you can't see and will help you out until you can.

Will definitely make sure he's there to help you out and if he isn't he's gonna be checking up on you the entire time he's gone.

You scare him sometimes

He just wants the love of his life to be okay 😔

Leonardo

You literally scared tf out of this man.

He immediately panicked and made you sit back down.

Got doctor Donnie and made you sit through a whole ass check-up

He'll lecture you every single time you walk around and can't see

Bc like just stand there and wait for your sight to come back?

He wants you to tell him when you can't see and he'll be your eyes until your vision comes back

He's so scared your gonna fall and hurt yourself

So he y/n proofs stuff to ensure you don't get hurt if you do fall.

You activate his mom mode honestly

He loves you and he doesn't want to see you get hurt.

Donatello

Why didn't you tell him??

He could have helped you out!

He honestly probably figures out a way to solve why you get lightheaded and lose your sight or almost pass out

He's gonna fix it and if he can't help fix it then he's gonna check every other box.

Making sure your eating well

Making sure if you do pass out everywhere is safe

You better tell him when you can't see so he can help you

Either that or he's gonna give you a cane to use to feel for stuff around you.

You worry him so much

He does everything he can to help ensure your safety bc he loves you

Michelangelo

He honestly thinks your joking with him at first

And then when he realizes your not he kinda just asks Donnie what to do

He'll make sure to help you when you get lightheaded or can't see

If you pass out he's gonna be there to wake you up and have a snack for you to eat when you do get up.

He's honestly gonna be more attached to your hip than before

Bc he's gotta be there to catch you if you fall or stumble

He'll try to make jokes about it to make you laugh and ofc if you don't like the jokes he'll immediately stop

But he does ask if you need a life alert in case you do fall when he's not around.

He just loves you and he wants you to be safe.

[darkscaleswriter]

palinoia for the director's cut asks? 👀

(ask for a director’s cut on any of my fics!)

omg I haven't re-read Palinoia in years, when I opened my doc for it I got slapped in the face by times new roman bc this is from before i switched to writing in calibri instead lmfao. anyway time loop fic!! i had a lot of fun experimenting with style in this one, trying to capture the low-grade horror of being trapped in time and dying again and again and again. not sure i totally succeeded, but i liked writing it at least!! i'm especially proud of the bit that's a series of vignettes that descend into repeated "reset, reset, reset" lines, i think that part really conveyed what i wanted it to. it's still satisfying to read again after 6-ish years :D

(continued under the cut)

shadow link is so fun to write, he's a classic antagonist turned antihero type character and i love it. i also have a huge soft spot for him bc loz four swords was one of my first fandoms and is probably my oldest one at this point, so he's an og blorbo for me haha. (clenches fist) someday I will treat myself and get physical copies of the manga. someday…

at any rate, i'm re-reading palinoia and kind of laughing at myself about how the key to shadow breaking out of the timeloop was just. teamwork makes the dream work, lol. including using items from past Heroes bc i like the idea of items from previous games still hanging around odd corners of hyrule. i don't think i planned it that way but it's extremely in line with the themes i tend to write ^.^'

and zelda gets to join in! past me even left a helpful note on the doc explaining that zelda gets to be there bc instead of sending that dark cloud thing to take her like in the manga, ganon got distracted by vaati being vacuumed and wasn't able to stop the links from breaking her out. i am also now realizing that i never explained what happened to vaati beyond "vacuumed into a giant gust jar" and if i had plans for that, I didn't write them down. so… i guess he just lives there, now? maybe the links go back and smash the mirror after shadow's fully revived as his own being without being tied to it? maybe the jar was sealed away to become the next hero of courage's problem??

if I was going to rewrite this fic, i think it would be interesting to add a section where shadow gets desperate and tries to recruit vaati. maybe there would be 2 villain turned antihero characters surviving to the end…? or vaati is too power-hungry to go for it and betrays shadow at the last second, if he doesn't refuse and/or kill shadow outright for being a traitor. i think the last minute betrayal version would be a good loop to lead into a deleted scene where shadow straight up just hides in the dark mirror for a loop and refuses to engage, up until the links make it to the tower and are like "hey tf is this giant mirror and should we break it or something"

that deleted scene never got finished, i'm guessing bc it was leading up to shadow letting the links smash the mirror without ever revealing that he was inside (rip). based when where i was in life when i wrote this fic, i probably wasn't in a headspace to get quite that dark. i think there's a difference between considering your death an acceptable sacrifice in a fight to prevent a supervillain from taking over the kingdom and not caring about your death happening bc depression, y'know?

there's another deleted scene where shadow has a much more dramatic death that involves him fighting vaati in single combat himself, and ending the fight by chucking a bomb at the dark mirror to kill them both. i think that was vaguely what the final loop was supposed to be before the gust jar idea, and there was a whole bit with vio where vio is extra upset as shadow is dying in his arms bc shadow promised earlier not to kill vaati via the mirror. whoops, he lied! he went after vaati on purpose and planned that from the start! what a normal and mentally stable thing to do, shadow.

that ending was cut more because it ended up too close to canon, i'm pretty sure, and i wanted the final loop to be something more unique. shadow needed to do something different than his original ending to break out of the loop, so the full canon divergence had to happen.

shadow still died very briefly at the end of the final loop, when zelda had him throw a bomb full of triforce light at ganon, but at that point the goddesses were like "okay we'll call that having learned your lesson" and brought him back quickly enough that nobody realized he was gone. potentially including himself! i'm not sure that shadow ever consciously realized it was the goddesses farore, nayru, and din that put him in the time loop, but after it ended, he was just glad to be done with it and decided not to ask too many questions that could potentially make them change their minds haha.

re: the goddesses, i think the reason they took an interest in shadow to begin with (self-sacrificial death for the four sword heroes aside) is because shadow was created using the power of the triforce. he's one of theirs, sort of, at a sideways angle to how link and zelda and ganon are. close enough for them to meddle with, and idk maybe din was being extra salty at this incarnation of ganon for creating an entire sentient person and then treating him Like That. rip ganon for annoying his triforce piece's patron goddess, lol.

shadow was created from the dark mirror using the triforce of power as wielded by ganon, and my general headcanon is that shadow link literally did not exist until the events of the four swords manga when he is born from the dark mirror. he doesn't have link's memories, but he knows link's personality and remembers feelings/impressions/etc. and, since shadow was created with the triforce of power, he carries of sliver of it with him in a similar way to how each of the links carries pieces of the triforce of courage. part of the reason he's drawn to the links is because like calls to like. shadow was made in part from the triforce of power, but in the image of the bearer of the triforce of courage. the only part he's missing is wisdom, but at the end of his final loop, he does get caught in the blast of zelda's triforce power bomb, so… :3c

at the end of the fic, when shadow notes that he has the triforce on his hand, i left it deliberately vague about whether that was actually the full triforce or not. i don't remember if i had a clear answer in my head for this, but i suspect he shares pieces with the other links and zelda, bc i like the idea of them being all connected like that. regardless, what triforce piece(s) he has are what allowed him to sever his connection to the dark mirror and hang out in the sunlight without burning up like a vampire. he takes a lot of catnaps in sunbeams now that he doesn't have to worry about that haha.

anyway thank you so much for asking about Palinoia, it was really fun to go back and remember how much i enjoyed writing it. and i'm SUPER flattered that you read my fic to begin with!! i am so in love with your god of war time travel au, it lives rent-free in my head at any given moment.

thank you again!!! :D

[yourfavepookiebear]

Oh yay!! Okay here’s a little request! How would Ace, Malleus, riddle, and vil react with an s/o who has severe insomnia? Like their s/o can go days without sleeping and has extremely red bloodshot eyes? :0 I would also think it’s funny that when they have sleepovers with their s/o they try so hard to stay awake with them but just end up passing out 😭 thank you in advance 🙏🧡

Ok, I'm gonna do some little headcanons !

Thanks for the request ☺

I tried to make it as accurate to canon as possible 😅 sorry if I got anything wrong

also, I'm not too familiar with Riddle and Ace so 😬 and I'm not too happy with how I wrote this, But here you go ! 💛

Tw ?: insomnia, mentions of insomnia, mentions of passing out, mentions of reader fainting, kinda ooc, not accurate, my first requested hcs !

Vil:

He instantly knows you have insomnia the moment he sees your eyes, your tired expression, and the fact that he's never seen you sleep before.

At first he is only worried about how it will affect your looks

But when he realizes this is a severe case, he is concerned for you.

When you pass out, he is very guilty and worried for you.

He feels like it's all his fault, and he feels like trash for noticing how you were trying to stay awake at the sleepover but not doing much to prevent what happened

He then brings you to the infirmary and waits until you've fully recuperated

And when you get better, he starts lecturing you

After that, he starts to take care of you even more than he already did, will make sure it never happens, and looks for remedies.

Maybe he will manage to make a potion that could heal you, after all.

He is determined to at least make you feel better, will definitely do his research.(A LOT of research)

Riddle:

He knows what insomnia is, because of his mother.

If it's after ob Riddle then he will tone down his strictness, will overlook it if you break some rules, will be softer to you, will try not to shout at you

He is concerned for you, will try not to be too loud, and looks after you

Insists on making you sleep

He's so stubborn it's unbelievable

Is determined to find a way to heal you, or at least make you feel better.

When you pass out, he's very clearly worried (he shouted your name in worry and woke Trey up). He brings you to the infirmary with the help of Trey, and watches over you.

Never leaves your side even once

Now even more determined to find a way to heal you.

Depending on if it's after ob or before or he will tone his strictness down a lot

Ace: (idk much about him so)

As everyone knows, he is a bit dumb sometimes. (Let's be honest he's more than just a bit dumb)

So at first when he saw you he assumed you were taking some kind of drug or medicine that caused this. (He thought you were high lmfao)

When he realizes its "just" insomnia, he calms down a bit

Although he is still worried, he will act the same.

Will continue being a crackhead

One day he decides to invite you for a sleepover

And as you were cuddling, you passed out.

He got very worried, he thought he did something wrong

Takes you to the infirmary

Only when the nurse tells him the reason, does he realize it's not his fault or anything he did.

Poor guy didn't even notice how hard you were trying to stay awake and it ended up in you passing out

Will not change his behavior, but will be a bit more caring

Malleus:

He didn't know what insomnia was at first, until he asked Lilia

And he was very (very very very) concerned and worried

He asked Lilia if there were any remedies

(Depending on the severity) If there were no remedies, and if you insisted that you were fine, he wouldn't have intervened against your will.

Is nonetheless determined to find a way to help you

He invites you over for a sleepover

And while he was crushing you in his embrace (not literally) you pass out

Also thinks it's his fault, he thinks you were sick or he hugged you too hard.

Will rush to the infirmary at the speed of light, with you in his arms or on his back

Once he learns that it's because of your insomnia, he frowns, but also internally sighs in relief

He's a bit happy it wasn't his doing, but also sad that you passed out

will DEFINITELY use some powerful spell to force you to sleep (ifykyk)

Not proofread tho, and inaccurate portraying of characters

Thanks again for the request ! I hope you enjoyed It.

[avocado-writing]

It's absolutely hilarious to me how Crowley falls and all he gets is trauma and emotional repression but reverse Aziraphale just goes completely fucking feral. All that self control is just gone. No doubt he has a whole host of issues but man's finally out the abusive hell (ha) that is heaven and he is living it like amnesiac Gabriel. Do you think he gains a Welsh accent or is he just feral British man

I like to think he still has the bookshop but it's like dark academia/witchy vibes. It's still wildly cozy but like in a this-buildings-definitely-haunted-but-the-ghosts-are-chill kinda way. The Bentley is yellow now I don't make the rules. Crowleys plants are thriving. He can speak to the ducks bcs angel things and it is great and somewhat concerning. Az personally punches Gabriel after Gabriel says something stupid to Crowley. Let Az be violent for his eldritch wife/husband/partner/being-beyond-mortal-ken (I didn't realize how weird of a phase that was until I wrote it out)

Sorry this got way longer that I thought and I don't know how much is coherent. I can't believe you dragged me into even more brainrot Avo. (thank you)

LOOK yes. But also, in my mind Aziraphale doesn’t have a bookshop, however he still loves books. He goes all over the country tracking down rare books and taking them from people who don’t look after them properly lmfao

he lives in a shitty caravan in the car park of Crowley’s plant shop. Crowley hates selling his plants. He is just as adverse to making a sale as canonical aziraphale is, but is happy to find a pretty bouquet for a lover who comes to him looking for advice.

(The Bentley is still Crowley’s. He has it as white. Aziraphale turns it to black and he goes “noooooo switch it back :(“ it’s constantly changing colour like the fucking sleeping beauty dress lol)

[libra-stellium]

Venus opposite Mercury transit

Let me just say I love astro so much i just can't LMAO

I was writing down my Venus transits coming up and in April I have Venus opposite Mercury and the description basically said be careful what you say to friends because someone may take it seriously and you'll hurt their feelings. Immediately I was like can't think of any recent time when people took me seriously when I was joking??? Thought a bit more and APRIL 2021!!! I had such a random friendship conflict that to this day I'm still a bit confused how it got to that point (spoiler alert we're no longer friends lol not bc of that) I looked at my transits back then and it's the last time I had Venus opposite Mercury! The same exact weekend!

Background: Friends and I drive up to NY for a friend's bday for the weekend

Friday Apr 2nd - transit hasn't started yet - we get to NY in the morning and we chill and we get ready to go out, friend this happened with wasn't at the house she had stuff to do and then later came and got ready after us, I have a snapchat video of me saying what's in your purse? bc it was a big purse like a laptop could fit in there and she only had wallet phone and chapstick in there lmao sorry but that's comical

Saturday Apr 3rd - transit starts - I didn't notice it until days later but she did not speak to me directly that day unless she had to

Sunday Apr 4th - Transit still applying - we drive back home and we're tired so no one is really talking but I'm the last to get dropped off at home and we were chatting normally

Monday Apr 5th - transit is exact - I get a lonnngggggg text from her long like 6 iphone screenshots long lmfao and she's basically saying how the entire weekend I was attacking her and intentionally putting her down and how I was inconsiderate and so much more and I was SHOCKED! Literally couldn't respond for like two days! And she also said that "people" had told her that I was talking behind her back and I was like bro what??? The only "people" are us who traveled together and our friend who's bday it was!

Wednesday Apr 7th - transit ends that day - I respond and I'm like so sorry I didn't realize I was doing too much and clarified some things that she said that literally didn't happen like that at all and then I was so upset I wrote in the group chat that next time if they have a problem with something I'm saying just speak up in the moment and they were like we don't know what you mean and I was like okayyyyyyy

Lesson learned I am taping my mouth shut this time around lmao staying inside!! Mind you mercury wasn't even retrograde for that in 2021 and it is this time so no one will be hearing from me! My Libra heart can't handle that again lol

[cloud-somersault]

So we know macaque tried to resist wukong at first (obviously failed completely) cause he "knew" it would be unrequited. How far deep was he in when he realized there was a high possibility of him falling in love? And how fast exactly was the slope for him, slow dooming rolling rock or trapdoor? Ita funny imagining macaque going "you will not fall in love with wukong" in the mirror, knowing it's hopeless

Oh! So this ask is in response to this one, where I kinda break down how and who fell in love first. And yes, Macaque thought Wukong wouldn't take a mate, so he resolved to just let his love be unrequited.

I think...they were on close terms at that point, obviously. They were very good friends, had trained together, fought together, spent a LOT of time together. Had good times and bad times. So, pretty far into their friendship.

So, I think the slope was a slow rolling rock INTO a sudden trap door that has Macaque thinking to himself "FUCK!" because he CANNOT fall in love with the Monkey King...that's the WORST PERSON FOR HIM TO FALL IN LOVE WITH UGH!!! 😩😩😩😩😩

He'd be so disappointed in himself. LMFAO Just because Wukong is...not available. Like, Wukong hasn't even shown much romantic interest PERIOD in anyone. So Macaque's hopes are not high AT ALL.

I think he definitely went through a time of trying to convince himself he was NOT in love. Like acting like, "That shit didn't make my heart skip a beat. NOPE" but it's too late. He's down bad.

I think at the VERY very beginning, like when I wrote that fic, Macaque was not at all interested. But then when he felt some fondness, he's like "okay, but that's all it's gonna be. we're gonna just be friends. anything more is impossible" and then the slow rock kept on rolling and rolling...until they KISSED and then!!! the trapdoor and THEN!!!

Macaque knows he's doomed.

[foxymoxynoona]

Hi Foxy, I hope your day is going well! I saw a precious recent ask where you spoke about your story planning process. I'm so so curious about what other direction did you try to figure out for Meadow? Only if you're comfortable with sharing of course.

I also wanted to ask about the Secret Song Series. From your previous asks, am I right to assume you have had that story planned/pre-written for a long time? If so, was it from before you got into BTS meaning it started out with different characters? Are any of your other stories that heavily pre-planned/written as well? Or any other stories you have pre-planned/written that you haven't shared or published?

Sorry for all the questions, I just truly find your writing, work, and dedication to your stories so inspiring and fascinating. I hope you'll be able to continue doing what you love forever! We'll all be here reading. Thank you for sharing your amazing stories with us. 💝

You're humoring me asking all these questions about writing, I really enjoy the topic!

Regarding Meadow: I really wanted it to just be a sweet Korean location drama at first, but Bronwen's history blew up in my face. And then I really wanted them to just settle in Europe together, but they couldn't quite make their peace there (fwiw, JK was supposed to go find her, not go with her in the original plan) and needed the fresh start together in Thailand and by that point I realized I was heading for the big bad ending I kept trying to avoid but I did still cling to hope that actually they would just stay in Thailand and their family would all move there. I just didn't think I could pull off all the political intricacies of the story and also make it make sense when they took over the pack... I'm pretty happy with how it ultimately turned out though and any other ending, I would have known I chickened out because i was scared of the writing.

Regarding Secret Song Series: it was always and only BTS, I started writing in January of 2020 and wrote furiously FOR MY EYES ONLY lmfao until I impulsively decided to start posting it in November 2020. Since I didn't ever plan to share, I just jumped around and wrote whatever I wanted. To be honest though I actually haven't really needed to "fix" things as we go despite it being written out of chronological order. Maybe a few minor things here and there but the story and Sasha and all the people in her life just really formed in my mind pretty clearly. I think I once added up how much I had written before I began posting and it was something insane like 2,000,000+ words... maybe it was even more? I'm sure it's somewhere on this blog lol but it's harder to calculate now that I've filled in so much more as we go. I kind of think of this story as the chronology of me falling in love with BTS though, because I knew even less about them when I started writing it and then as I would learn things in Run BTS or the On comeback happened or things like that, I could jump around in time in the story and weave it in. It's also why sometimes things are "wrong" in the story, it was never meant to be like... real true to life, it was me making up the future, but some meaningful things I've been able to add in as we go as they don't really change anything or even fit the themes really well!

In the beginning a lot of my stories were heavily written before I started posting (Sugar Fairy, Sea of Indigo, I think Lowlander was like 60% done by the time I started post) which helped me post a lot faster. Amended had a lot done too by the time I started posting, maybe like 40%. In contrast, stories like Lone Blue Egg, Tell Me What Changed, To Kill A King, After the Applause --my more recent stories-- are being posted as I write them. That doesn't mean I've posted all my "old" stuff though, even just BTS fics I wrote since 2020... there are a lot LOL. Some of them were 200 pages before I abandoned them. Sometimes I've cannibalized pieces of them for other stories, or they just kind of stalled out, or I just don't think they were unique/different enough from my current stories to bother finishing up.

I genuinely wish I didn't need to make a living and could just write these free little stories for pleasure and sharing for the rest of time. I'm well aware of how rare and crazy it is to have found such an open and supportive group of people who will let me experiment and try new things and be so thoughtful with their feedback. I'm a better writer thanks to all of you, so thank you for your support and interest! <3

[justagalwhowrites]

I was on AO3 attempting to finish Beskar doll (I read 3 chapters) when I got the notification that you posted a new one-shot. I couldn't get it pulled up fast enough! It was amazing just like everything you write.

I also decided to reread Yearling. I told you I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it until I got answers. So here are some thoughts.

1. Chapter one was really sad. I read it thinking of how scared she must have been not knowing what was going on. I couldn't imagine having to kill someone I love like that to save myself. It was also sad because it really gives a glimpse into who Bambi was before she was Bambi. She was a totally different person back then. I'm sure living through the end of the world would change anyone but for her, it was so much more than that. I want revenge against everyone who even thought about hurting her!

2. I absolutely love the fact that you wrote Bambi to be bisexual. It was a sweet story but I hate that Marisa just left her though. Although, I'm not really that upset about it because now she has Joel.

3. I found more breadcrumbs! If the breadcrumbs are what I think they are there were a few in chapter 8 that I missed. I think that was the chapter. It's the one where we learned about Marisa. I'm pretty sure I'm on the right track with my theory. I'm also pretty certain what I was wondering after chapter 9 is true.

4. Dear god, you love angst! I mean we all already knew that but I didn't realize just how much angst there was until I read it all together.

5. It's funny to me how things just hit differently in a slow burn. You find yourself being so damn excited that they touched even if it's accidental. Then when she asks him to hold her she may as well have asked him to fuck her. It was THAT monumental. I think I'm more excited for them to have their first kiss than I was for the Lavender fuckening!

6. Yup, you're definitely going to be at the top of every best seller's list there is one day. You can't convince me otherwise and I will have signed copies of ALL of your books, damn it!

I'm not going to apologize for rambling this time because you said you liked it. So just remember you asked for this! 🤣

HI BESTIEEEEEEE :D

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH OK HERE'S MY INSANELY LONG REPLY

Break because the reply is SO DAMN LONG lmfao

Yes, chapter 1 was sad. I love who Bambi is now but I also love who she's trying to get back to. We see parts of her every now and then - like when she was full on about to brawl with Simon for hurting Ellie for example, all her banter with Tommy for another. I think, eventually, she's going to reach a point where there's more of who she was before along with the parts of her that have changed or sprung into existence with her trauma. But as she becomes more and more comfortable with Joel - and Jackson and humanity in general - we'll see more of chapter 1 Bambi.

BISEXUAL BAMBIIIIIIIII! I love this character in part because I feel like she really does contain multitudes. She gravitates toward a lot of stereotypically masculine things - like breaking horses - but also LOVES the feminine - like women rockers and romantic movies. She kind of exists all over this spectrum and likes it that way. She feels most at home in her Levis and a button down and cowboy boots but, before she figured out how to effectively rebel against her mother's beauty pageant wishes, she won pageants because she can fully look the part all glammed up. Her horse experience reflects this, too, doing both bronc riding and trick riding. We'll see more Marisa - and other women in Bambi's life - in flashbacks too :)

Some of my most explicit breadcrumbs were in chapter 8! There was one where I was like "this is almost fully telling people what this is" and no one has mentioned it to me yet. I'll point out the big things in the reveal chapter, though!

I AM SUCH A SLUT FOR ANGST it's a problem. Thanks for putting up with it lmfao (also, it's gonna get REAL ANGSTY for a while too)

And OMG I'm LOVING how the small intimacies feel with this kind of a slow burn. Because it's not so much like will they/won't they longing kind of stuff there's so much tied up in it all. Any kind of intimacy - especially physical intimacy, not just sexual intimacy - is such a huge thing for Bambi. For literal years, the only touch she had was cruel. That is a lot of conditioning to undo. I think it's hard for her because - as I think you can tell from the flashbacks especially - she's always been a physical person. Her love language would probably be physical touch if I really thought about it, so feeling like she needs to be physically disconnected from people to be safe while also desperately WANTING touch so she can feel loved are these warring drives inside her. Right now, the safety need is outweighing the need for love with everyone BUT Joel. Maybe Ellie, too. She, at least on some level, wants to be the person who would walk up to a coworker who had been blatantly checking her out, tell him she'd fuck him and then do exactly that. I will say that, because of how physical Bambi is as a person (in just about everything, she really feels most herself when she's using her body) that, once the dam breaks with more explicitly romantic/sexual intimacy (which is getting close to happening with Joel) the rest will come rather quickly. That need for love and physical touch is going to overpower the safety need real quick.

And AHHHH BESTIE!! I sure hope so! I'm going to try to get off my ass and query Ace this week and see how it goes. Fingers crossed for me?

Thank you SO MUCH for all your rambles because I love them every time! And thank you for being here and for reading and always being so kind and supportive and lovely and wonderful. You're the best <3

Love you!!!

[whenthechickencry]

Umineko Ch1. Replay 5

You know I am kind of surprised how, uh, no one in the family realizes having an eternal supply of servant children is kind of fucked up, though I guess with Higurashi already exploring the themes of a fucked up orphanage R07 might not have wanted to rethread on that too much

or, more accurately, Genji basically adopted her into the family in order to force her to do some kind of redemption story for Kinzo

you might not believe her but she does have some murders to commit George! shannon is a busy person. I'll probably talk more about this scene in general when I get to the contrasting scene where she does put on the ring immediately, think the contrasts between the 2 scenes are where you can get more interesting conclusions.

While obviously the out-of-universe explanation for Gohda disappearing out of the narrative almost entirely by episode 3 was definitely r07 wanting to focus on more relevant characters once out of the introductory phase, it's kind of fun to think about who the only person who cared to write about Gohda was Yasu since they kind of hated him, Tohya/Ikuko I doubt have any opinion on him lmfao

While I am on the subject of Episode authorship, I don't think the stories we read are literally 100% the ones that Yasu/Tohya wrote... I think some stuff is unlikely the characters knew, I don't think it's very likely that Yasu knew about, say, Rudolf's baby switch. I guess they could have known from Genji but I also think that might be something Genji wouldn't know since that is not something he would be bringing up in family conferences considering the chances of Asumu or Kyrie overhearing, but I guess it's possible. Still, I think the stories are a bit more omnipresent about what they would know than any of these characters would realistically be.

I wonder what Yasu's motivation for this was, was she planning to kill Natsuhi but decided not to in order to elevate the witch symbolism? Or did she never have any plan to kill her but did this to fuck with her? I kinda lean towards the first but wrt latter one, in the manga of ep8 Beato mentions fucking with Natsuhi intentionally in early chapters because of her resentment towards her, so it wouldn't be OOC either

I don't think that's the kind of joke Eva would pull, tbh, Natsuhi.

Forgot for a second until reading these lines that Eva is already an accomplice by this point.

Also, guess they were told about Kinzo's status definitively, both her and Hideyoshi immediately jump to the point

Natsuhi's good at magic herself, weaving absolutely into her self-perception something that absolutely did not happen. Think it was mentioned in episode 5 how she "had the propensity for magic" or something along those lines!

You can see here how Natsuh reframes the life she had gone through in a way to give herself more agency she *decided* to throw away her old family in order to better serve the Ushiromiya, nevermind that she was basically kidnapped out of her old family with no way to go back. If she didn't reframe her situation like that she would be forced to confront the bitterness she has towards Krauss and the Ushiromiya in general, and she's desperately trying to move on from that so that she can be happy there.

She's also using Kinzo in a similar way to how Yasu uses Kinzo here, she can't allow herself to think bad things like that her husband is incompetent because that would go against the ideal wife she's trying to be, but if "Kinzo" is the one to say it...

Hurts to see how much she had to lie to herself in order to feel appreciated by a family that has fucked her over so many times yet she dedicates so much effort towards

Yeah I guess Eva had to be really fucking confused as to where Natsuhi got this much self-confidence from talking to a ghost lmfao

Guess it's time for a team meeting with team culprits here!

Hmm notice how Shannon is the one conveniently not directly seen by Battler

"Stop looking or else you would notice Shannon isn't actually here!"

He really does love Kyrie, hurts a bit considering how doomed that relationship is

Also the whole half/fully blown off face is a smart way to misdirect what you *should* be looking for, namely the vagueness about Shannon's death.

Honestly, I think this was one of the bigger gambles Yasu took, I think there was a solid chance George would have wanted to see Shannon despite it all

Hahahah, fuck you narration

"You might ruin the plan by getting angry right now Eva, It doesn't matter anyway anymore!" Also, I have seen some theories that maybe Eva was one of the accomplices who thought there were no murders, but honestly with the state these corpses are in I doubt anyone would think they were painted or whatever, There's a reason Kumasawa isn't here, I think. There's a lot you could convince Eva to do by promising her her family's safety, cancelling of George and Shannon's relationship and headship + money anyways.

The possibility of Yasu accepting love and life past 1986 did die with Shanon

Eva and Nanjo quickly figuring out a way to get Natsuhi to not stay in the storehouse any further

Maria asking "oh did the plan start already?"

That's how they feel about themselves, too

"Quick, make up something, fuck!"

Yasu probably told Eva to give Battler a "Start thinking about how to catch me" beginners course, lol

"Can't give you any more hints battler, figure it out!"

Oh huh, the first hint Battler is into mystery novels

Unless getting caught is the culprit's win goal, in which case flipping the gameboard like this is useless!

I will end off here for today I think, I covered less of the game than I usually do I think but it was a part with lots of things to say and unfortunately I have to wake up earlier on my off day due to personal stuff sadly so I really should get to bed.

[applesandbannas747]

For the fic writer ask, 10, 34 and 38?

ahh!! thank you for playing more silly ask games with meee <33

10. How do you decide what to write?

whatever makes my brain go brrrr. lmfao I have a million ideas that collect in my brain (and then get jotted down in notes lest I forget them all), and then from them I'll kinda pick what to write based on a couple of things: interest level at the moment of choosing, ship, length, and genre.

Biggest thing that indicates something will be written immediately is when I start composing scenes in my head while falling asleep or zoning out--that usually means it's Time to work on that project, but that's not always how things get picked.

I do try (and I used to be better at it) to stagger my fics in a way that keeps my readers happy/interested. So I try to even out the Nichoji v Eugesse ratio I write, meaning if I just finished a long Eugesse fic, I'd look to choose from a Nichoji idea. And generally when I'm working on longer projects, little ones will pop up to keep the crops diversified in my brain and all that--and those ones always kinda happen on whims/accident and then get stored away for months/years until I have a posting gap they can fill. And genre lmfaooo it was my intention to give people realistic fiction between my fantasy bullshit but that particular criterion has been given up on and I've just accepted it at this point

34. What aspects of your writing are inspired by/taken from your real life?

ooo I've said it before but my love for my family and relationship with my siblings really influences the way I write the Labaos--none of the Labao children are based on me or any of my siblings and none of the relationships were copy pasted onto them, but the strong basis of love and bullshittery everything is built on is from my life. and of course the mental illness do be sneaking into all the Fence boys lmfao oops

38. Did any of your fics get surprisingly popular (whatever that means to you)? Which ones? Why do you think they were so successful?

honestly fucking baffled in the best way when my things get popular lmfao i still can't believe people like some of my stories so much! There's probably four that I think completely surprised me

Fairy Bound gained a lot of fans I was not expecting, especially given the size of the fandom (it's not super big and I thought it had died out a lot more than it has because it's older) and the controversy of the ship (human/fairy with large age gap, you know the drill). I think one of the reasons it got so popular is because of it being a T-rated and longer fic for the ship when most of the longer fics for them were M or E and so it filled a niche? Also it was canon compliant (at least until the sequel series came out...but i don't really see those as canon anyway so my thing still fits into the OG canon yknow?)

More was my very first Fence fic that I wrote because I could not find ANY Nichoji kissing fics and wanted those fuckers to kiss. Which, I think, is why other people liked it, but I was so surprised (in a good way) with how many people commented on it and wanted to read more. It remains my most-kudo'd fence fic, which has honestly got to be from its time accumulating those kudos XD but it makes me smile whenever I get a new kudos on it because it's nice to know that people still like it since it was what jumpstarted my time in the fence fandom

Can't Get Over You is one that baffled me for ages because I had a great time writing it, but I don't think it's my strongest fic by far...and then I realized that maybe other people are as terrible as I am and enjoy the trope of Nick fucking up really bad being mean to Seiji and making him cry, then having to spend ages getting him to believe he loves him. Sometimes makes me wonder if I should post more with that trope or if it would be too upsetti spegetti XD

And then Promised Things I seriously didn't expect to get much traction, and yet, it surpassed Truths, my until-then legacy fic...Turns out business romance is a whole genre that people do be enjoying but I just thought I was being boring because how does 'businessman au' sound appealing to anyone at all except the dumb asshole who wrote it??? also i made so many lingerie jokes in that one and am still delighted that y'all just let me get away with it

[maigo-san]

hi zig!! can i ask ❤️💭 and 💣 for the ask game? (((o(*°▽°*)o)))

hi leafie!!! Sorry for the late reply, I just got on my tumblr tonight since my touch screen is a bit of a mess lol

I've answered ❤️ and 💣 here, so I'm gonna repost the answers here, answer 💭 and one that I haven't answered which is ☀️!

❤️ - what are your favorite kind of RenTan stories? (Canon, Rengoku lives, modern… etc)

definitely, Rengoku Lives stories since it's just the default. It's so fun to fiddle with it. Maybe it's because of the time period or the fact that it's directly from gtg's ideas, it just hits harder. But I've been really liking stories where one or both of them are mystical beings, whether it's the konpon au, dragon tan, fox scholar kyou~ I can't choose, they're all so gooood

💣 - share your most controversial RenTan take. Set your thoughts ablaze!!

BHAHAHA WHYYYYY

Kyoujurou has a fat ass!

jk.

I honestly don't know~ maybe one of the reasons I'm die-hard for rntn out of all of my ships is because I tolerate most headcanon lmfao even the darkest or dead dovey... idk. I wrote and made some questionable stuff myself so usually, if there's an au or trope I can't get behind, it's just how the author/artist executes it and if I have the energy, I'll try it with my own version. I get to make something I like and rntn gets more content

Like for example, I think Kyoujurou is not as experienced as Tanjirou just because he's older. There's barely anything he accomplished romantically or sexually around those five years gap. He's as young and awkward as Tan. But I can see why people would think that. He's adored by so many people. But so was Tanjirou and I feel, if Tanjirou becomes a charcoal burner for a bit longer, it could be the other way around since Kyoujurou is a bit intimidating.

Hey, maybe he learned everything just from three volumes of shunga and erotic novels!

💭 - In a world where the train ride lasted longer, what do Rengoku and Tanjiro dream of?

this is a very interesting question tbh. To make the train longer, that means Nezuko had to get out of her box way later so she didn't knock Tanjirou's forehead and cried when it bled. As for Kyoujurou, his dream did last the longest out of all of them and I know it was for the kamabokos' screen time, but I still love to speculate on what takes him so long to wake up.

I like the idea of Tanjirou noticing the uncanniness of the dream. Maybe Nezuko finally came down from picking veggies and he asked things like, "where are your nozzles?" or wondered why Nezuko's eyes looked weird (since he got used to her demon eyes). I imagine he had to live till the next day and had to go down to sell charcoal and heard whispers of villagers about a missing person and started sniffing the air for a trace of something he didn't know but he had a bad feeling about. I wanted to see him realize that he had been living with demons all his life and that slow and damning realization is enough to wake him up.

But as for Kyoujurou, I like to think that he succumbs further and deeper into his dream instead. And I feel he'll just dream about waiting.

Like somehow time stretches and no crow called him for a mission until the sky turns dark and he had to eat dinner with his family which is just filled with silence and awkwardness with Kyoujurou occasionally trying to strike up a conversation with Senjurou about school or something. His father don't usually eat with them but maybe in that particular day, Shinjurou got out of his room to join them and when Kyoujurou tried to strike up a conversation, which sadly only revolves around demon slaying, it pissed Shinjurou off and he went on ranting about Kyoujurou taking this too seriously or wondering why Kyoujurou didn't have anything else to talk about.

Someone told me Kyoujurou is the only one who has a shitty dream lol and I get it but it's more like it purposely mimics his real life not only because Enmnu won't blow his cover but aEnmu's blood demon art probably also deems it the life he "wanted". Like, to Kyoujurou it's impossible to accept a different reality. It'll be too uncanny for him and he'll wake up sooner.

But then, I'm gonna twist canon a bit, during the last scene of Mugen Train he said he remembered to tell Tanjirou to visit his family home. So as the dream continues, he started to daydream. How he wished he had a tsuguko. He wished in his bleak world, he met someone new that could maybe give a bit of color. He's grateful for his family but he said so himself, he's constantly worried about Senjurou and that he had it worse than Kyou, he really felt the family fell apart after Ruka died, and he never smiled whenever talking to Shinjurou.

Somehow he saw flashes of checkered haori like when Tan saw flashes of Nezuko's box. After dinner, he chased after that mysterious back around the very quiet and maze-like neighborhood and he still didn't see it coming. Like he still didn't realize he was under BDA attack. Cuz I think, in Enmu's logic, Tanjirou could be the "dream that he wanted". Like, maybe at first it seemed he wanted life to be the way it is, but apparently, he also has his own desire which is to meet someone new.

He might not remember Tanjirou's name or face but he had this strong feeling when he saw dream-Tanjirou and it pushes him further and further away from reality.

Maybe by the time he catches Tanjirou's shadow, the whole world crumbles because the girl finally pierced his spiritual core OR when he catches Tanjirou's shadow, he could hear Tanjirou's voice around him but not from dream Tanjirou, but from real Tanjirou who was trying to wake him up, screaming his name.

☀️ - How did you watch Mugen train for the first time? (In theaters, at home…)

Watched it at home on some illegal streaming site (I haven't installed netflix at that time yet), I don't remember much but I think I watched Mugen Train first before finishing season 1 LMAO like I literally didn't know Tanjirou that well but I respect him for the down-badness.

Anyway, that's all! Thank you for the ask, leafie!!

[elizaviento]

Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 6 of ?)

(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC)

This chapter is rated SFW — 4079 words.

Note: I'm so sick right now, I wrote this entire chapter while drugged up on Nyquil and Imitrex. Lmfao. I hope to god it makes sense.

(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)

*****

Shane coughed, covering his mouth just in time to prevent the lump of what Kristen called lasagna from flying right into her face.

Her expression twisted in concern, obviously thinking he was choking, and she rose from her chair to slap him between the shoulders with more force than he expected. He coughed again, weakly shoving her away so he could swallow the mass in his mouth and reach for his water glass.

"Are you okay!?" she asked, hovering behind his chair, close enough that he could feel her breath on the back of his neck. Even now, he had to suppress a shiver as the humid warmth lit up an unexpected pleasure center in his brain.

"Yeah," he answered in between several more coughs. He scrubbed at the unshed tears that pooled in his eyes, the raw sting at the back of his throat making him grimace. 

Naively, he wondered if the farmer would forget about her ridiculous demand if he didn't acknowledge it. So, he hesitated, silence settling between them like an unwanted guest that had overstayed their welcome. Eventually, she returned to her chair across from him, her large brown eyes brimming with uncertainty.

"Shane —"

"Give me a minute," he interrupted, rising from his chair. Before he realized it, he was pulling the bathroom door closed, his lungs deflating so rabidly that he felt slightly dizzy. 

Shane's haggard reflection greeted him from the mirror above the sink, small patches of fog still clinging to the smooth surface. He knew he couldn't hide forever, so he sat on the toilet seat and cradled his head in his hands, the image of her imploring face seared into the back of his eyelids like a fresh brand.

Despite a lack of sleep, he'd had a decent day. Almost good. Work sucked; it always did. But he knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that seeing Kristen that morning and the anticipation of seeing her again afterward was the only reason it wasn't as soul-suckingly miserable as usual. It was uncomfortable enough admitting such a thing to himself while he made the trek back to her farm after his shift, only to be greeted by her smiling face and a home-cooked meal, despite her dismal culinary skills. But the request she'd dropped on him like an atom bomb made his discomfort significantly worse, especially since he was certain she was blissfully unaware of how her presence had taken root in his life. Piercing his flesh, worming through soft tissue, snaking between his ribs, constricting his once atrophied heart.

Her request was benign. Innocent and pure. But Shane's feelings were anything but.

She'd once called him her best friend after they'd spent a late Friday at the Stardrop. It wasn't often she drank with him, but that night she'd clearly had something weighing on her mind that she intended to drown in a sea of whiskey. Already tipsy by the time she'd arrived, liquid courage urged him to support her quest, buying her shot after shot until her cheeks flushed and her calloused hands clutched one of his biceps for support. The warmth that had bloomed in his belly as she uttered those words had nothing to do with the booze, and he hadn't felt the need to deny it. He also hadn't said it back, hoping she instinctively knew he felt the same.

It was early February, and flakes of fluffy snow danced around them as the duo stumbled from the Saloon into the abandoned town square. Emily had closed and locked the door behind them before patting them both on the shoulder and steering them toward their shared path. The walk was slow, with awkward steps they'd attempted to make in tandem, only to trip over one another's feet and slip on the freshly fallen snow like a pair of spring foals taking their first steps on wobbly newborn legs. 

Her giggles had been more intoxicating than anything Shane swallowed that evening. The chill of her nose when she'd pressed her face to the column of his throat sent a shiver down his spine that even the frigid gusts of winds couldn't compete with. The uncharacteristic huskiness of her voice when she'd invited him inside her home awoke something within him that he'd suppressed for longer than he'd wanted to admit.

Her keys jingled as she'd fumbled them from the pocket of her jeans. His breaths quickened as she'd swung the door open and pulled him inside. And his body had burst into flames when her lips made contact with the corner of his mouth.

"Fuck," he hissed, digging his nails into his scalp as the memory haunted him once again. Almost 6 months had passed, and he still couldn't scrub it from his mind. Kristen's memory of that night was non-existent. He knew the second he'd bumped into her the following afternoon at Pierre's, her curly hair tied in a messy bun and her bloodshot eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses despite the snowy gloom. She'd smiled and waved at him, a bottle of aspirin clutched in one hand and a case of ginger ale in the other.

Shane's heart had sunk through his stomach and settled in his toes. Every step he'd made that day squashed the traitorous organ more and more until it resembled the flattened husk of a possum that he'd once discovered during his morning walk to school as a child. Discarded. Lifeless.

Despite his own hangover, he'd hyped himself up to approach her while sober. Apologize for refusing her advance but explain that it was only because he didn't want to fuck it up by sloppily screwing his only real friend in a drunken haze just to have her regret it the following morning. Or worse, accuse him of taking advantage of her. So he'd gently peeled the farmer from his front and guided her to bed. He'd removed her shoes and smoothed the wild strands of hair from her forehead and face. He'd fed her mangy cat and ensured her fire would burn through the night. Then, he’d walked home to the ranch. Alone.

When Shane gathered his wits and found his way back to the kitchen, the table was cleared, and the nerve-wracking sound of silverware scraping porcelain assaulted his ears, making him cringe. 

"Do you, uh — need help?" he asked, coming to stand beside her at the sink. She'd balanced a plate on the side of the basin and used the prongs of a fork to fling the attached slab of overdone pasta into the disposal. "You don't have to be so stubborn."

"Are you going to ignore my question?" she pivoted, painfully pointing out that she wasn't the only stubborn one in the room by stabbing the plate one last time, sending it clattering to the bottom of the sink. 

"It wasn't a question," he countered. Kristen closed her eyes and lowered her head, frustration emanating from her in waves that were nearly palpable. "Kriss, I can't just move in here. You know that. I can't leave Jas —"

"Do you really think I'd expect you to leave her with Marnie?"

"Then where would she stay?" he asked, a lump forming in his throat. No matter how fucking insane it was, his mind conjured up an image of Jas occupying one room of the farmhouse while he and the farmer shared the other. He swallowed, the lump growing larger as his heart fluttered and its pace quickened.

"You know that cabin at the edge of the property? I had Robin fix it up a year ago because my brother said he wanted to come help out on the farm."

Shane vaguely recalled Kristen mentioning it when he'd stopped by and saw Robin and her son Sebastian unloading lumber from the carpenter's pickup truck. As far as he knew, her brother never showed up.

"It's only one room," he pointed out, confused.

"I know. I thought I could move in there, and you and Jas could stay here in the farmhouse. See — plenty of space for everyone."

"Oh."

Silence settled between them again, and Shane quickly dispelled the happy family fantasy from his head, feeling foolish.

"So?" she hedged, taking a step toward him, invading his personal space like she always did. "I know this seems out of the blue, but I can't think of anyone else who would go out on such a limb for me, Shane. The thought of you walking here multiple times a day to take care of my farm… it isn't fair. As much as I hate to admit it, I'll need help for a while if I have to have surgery, and I want to help you, too. You can stay here for free. You can quit Joja if you want or maybe go part-time?"

"What happens after you're all healed up?" he asked. His heart rate had increased again, and he found himself pacing the floor. Partly to put a bit of distance between them and partly to burn the anxious energy that began to radiate up his spine.

"Nothing," she said, shaking her head. He wondered if she felt as flustered as she suddenly appeared. "We can run the farm together."

Shane figured that statement was supposed to provide clarity, but it only confused him further — she and the town drunk running a farm together… but separately. 

Anger suddenly boiled within him, bubbling over and threatening to consume him if he didn't leave. Now.

"I gotta think about it," he said, snatching his backpack and stalking toward the door. Kristen said something, her voice beseeching and her aura pressing down on him from behind as she followed him outside and down the steps of her porch. But he kept walking, hastening his stride until he crossed the property line into Cindersap Forest, anger quickly replaced by something more potent. Something harder to control. Something he didn't have the energy to wrestle into submission while Kristen's thoughtless proposal relentlessly bounced between his ears like a rogue ping pong ball — "We can run the farm together."

Marnie's questioning expression faded the second she recognized the hardened and vacant look in her nephew's eyes. Shane ignored her as he entered his room and rooted around in his sock drawer for the wad of cash he'd been storing there. He hadn't bothered to count it in a while, but the stack had grown fatter and fatter each night he'd managed to avoid the Saloon. Maybe the stack would be cut in half by the morning. Maybe it would be completely gone. At this point, Shane couldn't bring himself to give a damn.

❦❧🍓❦❧

"So —" Emily said, sliding a fresh mug of ale toward Shane, "— where's Kristen tonight?" Shane flicked his eyes upward to meet hers, a hardly contained scowl contrasting the playful smirk she delivered in return. Shane never understood how this woman could peer directly into the recesses of his soul, but she never ceased to surprise him. "I suppose she's not up for the Friday night crowd?"

Shane scoffed, taking a generous gulp from the frosty mug.

"Dunno what she's doing."

"She's on your mind, though. I can practically see her dancing on your shoulder," Emily quipped, gathering the collection of empty mugs surrounding him before loading them into the small portable dishwasher she only seemed to wheel out when Shane was on a bender. He wondered if she kept tabs on those instances just as closely as he did these days. Regardless, he simply shrugged in response, another gulp of ale slipping past his lips to join the countless others, blunting his frayed emotions until they no longer scratched at the closed door of his heart like an abandoned puppy.

As much as Shane preferred to sulk without distractions, the cacophony of voices and raucous laughter in the Stardrop Saloon on Friday evenings served as necessary white noise. When he'd lived alone in the city, he couldn't afford to frequent the local bars and still pay his astronomical rent. So he'd opted to drink cheap Joja brand beer with the television's volume set to max. In the Saloon, no one bothered to approach him anyway, so he considered it a worthy alternative to pissing Marnie off and keeping Jas up all night.

"Will you do me a favor?" Emily spoke up again, shattering the delusion he'd just attempted to craft — No one notices you. No one cares…

"Hmm?" He didn't bother to look up at her this time. Studying the strange woman's intuition and why she bothered to waste it on him was no use.

"Would you mind calling her to see how she is? I would do it myself but keep my phone in the back and —" she gestured at the crowd surrounding them, several members waving toward her, signaling that they required another round.

Shane blinked slowly, considering her request. If he were sober, he might have seen through Emily's subtle ploy. Unfortunately, he was well past the threshold of drunk and steadily ebbing toward shit-faced. Nevertheless, he narrowed his eyes at her, the corners of his mouth sagging as he clutched the handle of his rapidly draining mug a bit tighter than was necessary.

"Please? I have a healing crystal to lend her. Just ask when I can swing by tomorrow?"

Before he could reply, Emily shimmied her way past Gus and exited the opposite side of the bar. Her shock of blue hair was easy to track as she weaved through the crowd with a tray weighed down with assorted cocktails he hadn't even noticed her mixing.

With an audible groan, unbothered by who may notice, Shane cradled his chin in one hand. Marnie's laugh filtered toward him through the crowd, and he cringed. He'd felt her gaze upon him more than once like a laser, sizzling his flesh from across the Saloon. Lewis was most likely with her, treating her like a business associate while in the public eye. But she would spend the remainder of the night away from the ranch, tiptoeing through the front door at the crack of dawn the following morning like a rebellious teenager. At least Jas was sleeping over at Vincent's that night, sparing her witnessing her caretakers behaving like self-centered fools.

Shane momentarily forgot Emily's request as he brooded, draining the remainder of the ale in his mug. Until the farmer's name escaped the mouth of one of the kids in the adjacent game room.

Kids, he thought with a bitter laugh, recalling when he would have been offended if some bar rat called him such when he was in his 20s.

"You saw Kristen in town?" Sam asked one of the others.

"Yeah. She didn't say much, though. Bet her hand is pretty fucked up, based on how big the bandage was. Alex is supposed to drop some shit off at her place tonight, so maybe he'll spill the beans," Sebastian said, followed by the loud and precise clack of pool balls colliding.

"How much you wanna bet he shows up in the crop top and gridball shorts like that's his normal outfit?" a female voice interjected. Shane could picture her face in his mind's eye, but her name escaped him. Purple hair, lots of eyeliner… It didn't fucking matter. What did was the chorus of answering laughter, presumably agreeing with the young woman's apt assumption.

"You're giving away how much porn you watch. And what kind," Sam joked. Shane — completely homed in on their conversation now — swiveled on his stool and watched the trio as they took turns at the pool table, petty gossip flowing from their lips like a fountain.

"Honestly," Sebastian chimed in, taking another expert shot. A cigarette was tucked behind his ear, reminding Shane of 50s greasers — a whole pack rolled up in one sleeve and a comb wedged in their back pockets. "Remember when he told us he'd have her ankles behind her ears within a month when she first moved here?"

Another round of laughter erupted from the small group of friends; their evident skepticism proven right over 2 years later.

"I dunno, man, I almost believed him," Sam said, lining up his own shot and missing it in spectacular fashion. "There's a reason he wears that crop top and why Haley rides his dick all over town."

"Shut up!" the girl hissed. Shane suddenly remembered her name — Abigail. As if it mattered. "Emily can probably hear you like… telepathically or something."

The utterance of the waitress' name slammed her former request back into the forefront of Shane's brain, along with a raunchy vision of Alex the gridball player seducing the farmer and railing her into next Tuesday. Bile bit the back of his throat and he swallowed, forcing it down to drown in the lake of ale it had somehow escaped from. His motor functions were already loose and sloppy, but he managed to fish his cell phone from the pocket of his threadbare hoodie and initiate a call.

The tension in Shane's jaw tightened with each ring, his teeth feeling as if they could crack at any second. 

"Hi, it's Kristen. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you when I can."

He immediately tapped the call button again and held his breath.

"Hi, it's Kristen. Leave a message, and I'll get back to you when I can."

Again.

"Hi, it's Kristen. Leave a —"

He slammed his phone on the bar hard enough for a crack to form at one corner of the screen and snake upward toward the center. Bitterness coated his tongue, and he slammed it harder, watching as the crack branched, consuming the tempered glass entirely. It was oddly satisfying, and he ran the pad of his thumb over the pattern, the slight scrape grounding him momentarily.

"Everything alright, Shane?" Gus asked. His jovial tone was unexpected, but his concerned expression was not. Emily had reappeared and hovered nearby, filling a glass with ice water. Shane wondered just how many eyes had shifted toward him in the wake of his micro tantrum but refused to acknowledge them.

"Uh, yeah," he said, not bothering with an excuse. Emily placed the water glass in front of him, the soft clink of ice inside conjuring up memories of sweet tea on the farmer's porch in Spring. Marnie chattering away while Jas played with the mangy cat. The farmer's gaze laid heavy upon him while he scowled, determined to reject her hospitality at every turn...

His phone lit up with an incoming call, the contact photo easily recognizable, even through the spider web of destruction — the farmer proudly standing in front of her grange display at the Stardew Valley Fair. She'd asked him to take it, first place ribbon pinned to the front of her overalls and a broad smile plastered across her freckled face. He was sure she had no idea he'd saved it after texting it to her, let alone used it as her contact photo.

He snatched the device from the bar, indignation flaring up anew as he aggressively tapped the answer button and pressed the phone to his ear.

"Shane? What's up?" Her tone was apprehensive. Almost cautious.

All at once, words jumbled in his brain. Phrases formed and caught in his throat before another took its place. He wanted to ask her why she didn't answer. He wanted to ask her if she was alone. He wanted to ask her —

"Did you have fun with Alex?"

"What?" He could almost see her shocked expression as he screwed his eyes shut and raked his free hand through his hair. "How did you —"

"Why don't you ask him to move in with you instead?" he spat, venom lacing each syllable. He felt betrayed in a way that made perfect sense to his ale-addled brain. Explosions of color bloomed behind his eyes as he dug a fist into them, his jaw clenched again so tightly that his temples ached.

"You're drunk." He scoffed as if her obvious observation was utterly outlandish. "I'll be there soon."

She hung up on him, and Shane slipped his damaged phone back into his hoodie pocket. He contemplated leaving, stumbling to the dock and spending the rest of the night there with a case of Joja brand beer. It was tempting, but he knew Kristen would seek him out, and that would be the first place she'd go, having found him there on too many occasions to number. As much as he loathed to admit it, he was a creature of habit, and she'd become a part of that routine, disrupting his vices with her stupid distractions.

Fuck it, he thought, pulling a wad of crumpled bills from his cargo shorts and tossing them on the bar. The farmer had flipped Shane's entire life on its head, inserting herself into every aspect despite his initial resistance. She knew what she was getting into; he never asked for any of it. He never asked for her.

The walk from the Saloon to the ranch was hazy, but his feet knew the path by heart. Idly he wondered if the outlines of his footprints could be detected like the remnants of blood spatter at a crime scene. A morbid blueprint that traced the path of his daily trek as a useless deadbeat.

"I want you to move in with me."

The ranch was dark when he stumbled through the front door, save for a small night light in the kitchen. Marnie had left it unlocked, probably realizing that Shane would be too drunk to wrestle with his keys, which was simultaneously endearing and annoying. But he shook it off as he plodded toward his room and fished the spare case of beer from the back of his closet. He'd considered getting rid of it multiple times but never did, unease forcing him to toss a spare blanket over it instead.

"We can run the farm together."

He cracked open one of the lukewarm cans and tipped the contents down his throat, draining it completely before leaving his room. Crumpling the empty can in his fist, he tossed it toward the wastebasket in the corner and missed. It lay on the floor, instantly forgotten until the following morning when he would trip over it on his way to the toilet — a problem for future Shane to deal with, along with the shameful hangover and disappointed lecture from his loving aunt.

The journey to the lake dock was just as instinctive, and he soon found himself lying with his legs dangling over the edge, a warm breeze caressing his bare calves and forearms. The night was sultry, so he'd shed his hoodie and rolled it into a makeshift pillow, protecting his hair from the thin layer of mold carpeting the surface of the moist wood.

Time seemed stretched thin, like a rubber band on the verge of snapping. Seconds pulled taunt until they resembled hours, spinning and tilting like a top when Shane closed his eyes. He didn't know how many cans he'd demolished while waiting to be discovered nor how many he had left. He supposed it didn't matter, anticipating it all to make a reappearance before the night's end.

The faint crunch of twigs and rustle of fabric caught Shane's attention, and he lolled his head to the side. Muddy boots appeared out of nowhere, thumping across the wood of the dock like thunder rolling through his head. He groaned, draping an arm over his face to shield his eyes from the beam of a flashlight, striking his skull like lightning.

"Sit up," the farmer demanded. A scrap of metal assaulted his ears, and he grimaced, wondering if she was sharpening a knife on a flint block.

Maybe she's finally sick of your shit and came here to put you out of your misery.

The grim thought amused him, and he laughed, breaking into a throaty, fruitless cough. The aroma of fresh coffee wafted toward him instead, hardy and robust, and he finally sat up, catching the farmer pouring the black concoction into the lid of an ancient thermos. A backpack sat next to her, another thermos poking out along with an entire loaf of bread. She'd clearly come prepared.

“Here,” she said, thrusting the lid toward his face. The uncompromising quality of her tone slapped some sense into him, and he cautiously took it, shiny metal already warm to the touch. “Time to sober up.”

[tethered-heartstrings]

*rolls over* Babe wake up, tethered-heartstrings posted.

Total side note but I have your notifications on and your sleep schedule is questionable to me, are you okay?

I have a queue that posts stuff every couple hours all day (usually curated/reblogged content) with many of my own posts scheduled in between. I also post stuff "live", but usually its just my dumbass thoughts.

My sleep schedule is questionable but that's unrelated.