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#it's all about capitalizing on other's mistakes
awkwardrocker · 5 months
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I won't lie, I'm a bit disappointed in Max Verstappen fans after Lando's win yesterday. A lot of people are discrediting Lando and McLaren in general. The fact of the matter is that Lando deserved that win.
Yes, it was a lucky safety car. But I think you all are forgetting Max's first win came in part because the Mercedes drivers took each other out. Are you now arguing that Max is a shit driver that doesn't deserve that win because it involved luck there too?
Lando is a fantastic driver and this win is long overdue. It might make you feel better to discuss what ifs but even if we do, that doesn't change the results, and it's honestly just incredibly disrespectful of the work the McLaren engineers put into the upgrades, the efforts of the strategists, and the solid drive that Lando put in.
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x-pair-o-dice-x · 2 years
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I reallllyyyyyy didn't mean it that way I was trying to respond to your little bored in class thing and I wasn't sure what to say or a better way to say it
I'm really sorry, I didn't mean offense, I forget that tones are lost in text and as much as I tilted the words I really couldn't make it sound as playful as that was in my head
Again, I'm really sorry, I honestly didn't realize it would be taken that way
it’s fine, i guess- now you know not to do it in the future.
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artbyblastweave · 4 months
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What I like about New Vegas is that out of all the Fallout games, it feels like it's the most aware of the fact that everyone is doing a bit of some kind from the fifties and is much more attentive and thoughtful than some of the other games to the implications of the fact that everyone is doing some kind of bit from the fifties.
The Kings are a salient example of this. The surface level gag, of course, is that they're a militant gang of Elvis impersonators, having adopted the aesthetic after their leader mistook a training facility for Elvis impersonators as some kind of religious site. Stock Future-imperfect stuff, oh-those-silly-wastelanders, elevating our pop-culture to the level of organizing-societal-principle.
Until, of course, you take into account the (singular) King's actual project- the fact that his gang is the defacto governing body of Freeside, the accompanying fact that he's got his anarchist predilections and thus would like to maintain that governing position without having to constantly kick people around to get them to listen. And here you've come across a guy from before the war who was apparently so incredibly charismatic that people came from all over the country to see him, so charismatic that they built an entire school to train people how to imitate his mannerisms. No shit they're gonna check if there's any gas left in that can! There might be some real practical power on the table if they can walk that walk! Even if the quick-and-dirty pitch for the gang is "Elvis Cult," there isn't really a spiritual component, they aren't morons who're mistaking this guy for a literal god, they just recognize that there might be some unreclaimed social capital here for them to tap into. And there absolutely is, in-universe and out- have you ever encountered a Fallout fan who didn't love The Kings?
Compare this, by the way, with the Three Families, who aren't in a situation where they're scrambling for a symbol they can rally populist support around. These guys are on top of the world. They aren't doing a bit because they're pursuing the social power that bit would provide them- there ultimately is some, but that's not why they started doing it and it isn't strictly something that they needed to do, given their combined force of arms. They're doing their respective bits because the guy with the robot army told them to. They're theme-park employees, working to brute-force back into existence the halcyon youth of a guy who can't even go outside to enjoy it.
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thegeekyartist · 1 year
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Fuck I feel ill
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healmydesires · 6 days
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cross that line ꕤ (l.h)
part two
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pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
summary: For a long time, you were content hiding your feelings, but lately, the longing for someone you can’t have has become unbearable. Despite knowing he could never be yours, you still cherished the sweet ache in your heart whenever he smiled or gave you a warm, platonic hug. Then, one day, everything changed.
genre: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)
word count: 14k (14k on the dot to be precise but yeah uhm. sorry. I swear I'm normal)
warnings/tags: friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, thunderstorms, idiots in love, mutual pining, assumed unrequited love, jealous!reader, reader is described as shorter than logan, emotional!reader, miscommunication kinda, inexperienced/virgin!reader, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, ok… just in overall bye, logan is soft for reader, sub!reader, vaginal fingering, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, overstimulation, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk, oral fixation. some daddy kink? breeding kink aaaaa sorry. I wrote this while ovulating. they’re both FREAKS. scent kink? lots of pet names. this is high key sweet and turns filthy. logan is worshipping his sweet girl ok! reader is a mutant. reader has hair, no further description though. this is not beta read sorry!
a/n: GUESS WHAT!!! user healmydesires is back with another self indulgent fic about a new blorbo! I’ve been having all random kinds of scenarios about logan in my head and I just didn’t know which type of story to go with. until I felt like there weren’t much of inexperienced/virgin reader fics for logan and tbh… that’s kinda my brand (I’m high key kidding but lowkey that’s what I love to write the most) if you’ve read my works so. I thought I’ll write what I WANT to read. so this is high key self indulgent. english isn’t my first language so pls bear with me <3 also ngl.. a lot of it is just smut 😭 I literally wrote this while ovulating… EDIT (19/09): I kinda edited it a bit because it had a lot of grammar mistakes and I'd often jump from present tense to past tense so ye
this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3
AO3 • masterlist
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Being roommates with your best friend had its perks. You were together almost all the time, sharing both the big and small moments. As fellow teachers, you could easily swap teaching tips, lend each other a hand with tasks, or offer guidance when you were feeling stuck. Your tall best friend effortlessly reached the top shelves, and you both enjoyed laughter-filled moments during movie marathons. Sharing responsibilities became more fun too—splitting chores like cooking and laundry felt easy and natural. Plus, there was comfort in knowing your best friend was always dependable, ready to support you whenever you needed it. And whenever you were in need of a hug, your best friend was probably already ready to envelop you in his warm embrace.
But it also had its disadvantages.
Especially considering that Logan Howlett, your best friend, was quite the menace.
Logan had always had a rugged handsomeness that effortlessly made people swoon all around him. It wasn't fair how pretty he was. He had always been lucky with finding partners—or rather, when it came to finding bed or sexual partners. He'd often bring those one-night stands or partners to your shared apartment only to have sex with them. Logan had never been the type to stick with one person, always preferring flings over long-term relationships. Or so you thought.
You, on the other hand, had always craved a long-term relationship. You dreamed of finding your true love—someone to share adventures with, to have fun with, and to dive into deep, meaningful and random conversations. You loved the idea of being with someone who let you be your true self, where you could spend hours talking about the most random things—discussing your favourite TV shows one minute, and passionately criticising capitalism and the world the next. You were all about affection, from kissing to being held, but you also longed to hold your partner close and make them feel cherished, just as much as you wanted to feel loved in return.
Unfortunately, you had never had the chance to experience anything like that.
It wasn't like you had never had the chance or had the opportunity to explore and possibly experience a potential relationship. You had just never been really interested in creating a relationship with a stranger.
Plus the thing was, your best friend wasn't just your best friend. You had been in love with Logan for god knows how long.
Charles Xavier was the one who had introduced you both, years ago. You remembered that day very vividly.
You had just arrived at the Xavier Institute, and the professor had offered you a two-sided job, to be a teacher at the school and be part of the X-Men.
You'd always done your best to keep your powers hidden, but being welcomed into a school designed for people like you—a mutant—felt incredibly liberating. That's why you hadn't hesitated when Charles Xavier invited you to his school. You'd always known you were powerful, with the ability to control and manipulate water, but you had kept your abilities a secret, not wanting to be treated any differently in a world that didn't really like or understand people like you.
As the professor took you around the grounds, you couldn't help but be impressed by how big and beautiful it all was.
You were so captivated by the mansion's grandeur and stunning architecture that you didn't even notice a guy casually leaning against the nearest wall outside of Charles's office. But the moment your eyes met his, it felt as if time itself stood still. Looking into Logan's eyes, you felt like you could drown in them. You had never seen anyone so effortlessly handsome.
Completely entranced by him, you almost forgot to introduce yourself. Your body heated up in the moment, and the professor definitely noticed. Logan Howlett gave you a knowing smirk, making the warmth inside you intensify even more.
That day you both became friends, though you still didn't quite understand why, given how different you both were. Logan was gruff and blunt, while you, though capable of being direct, tended to choose your words more carefully. He was passionate and strong-willed and opinionated, and sometimes he let that get the best of him. You were deeply in tune with your emotions, while he always seemed to hold back, keeping certain feelings tightly guarded. Logan was never one to be very straightforward with his emotions. He would rather keep most of them to himself, and didn't want to seem too vulnerable. Communication was something you valued and needed a lot, but Logan, by contrast, didn't seem to rely on it as much. You were an overthinker, always caught up in your thoughts, and he would often step in to ease those worries of yours.
You could say that opposites attract.
Over time, your friendship grew, and one day he asked if you'd like to move in with him into a new apartment near the institute. He craved a bit more peace and genuinely enjoyed your company. It seemed like a good idea, so you thought, why not?
You couldn't pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with your roommate. All you knew was that one day, you were suddenly overcome by an emotion so intense, it was unlike anything you'd ever felt before. It hit you all at once. Before Logan, you'd never really had a serious crush, never experienced feelings this powerful for anyone. You often told yourself it must have started shortly after you moved in with him, but deep down, you knew that wasn't the truth. This feeling had been quietly growing from the very first moment you met him, slowly building until it became impossible to ignore.
It was funny, you thought, how life had a way of bringing you things—and people—you never realised you needed. People like Logan, who became so essential that you couldn't help but wonder how you had ever lived without them. People like Logan Howlett, who somehow managed to be both your saving grace and your greatest temptation.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A few months into your roommate arrangement, you still couldn't get used to Logan constantly bringing one-night stands to your shared apartment. It was pure torment.
As you ate cereal at the kitchen island, one of Logan's many one-night stands quietly slipped out of the apartment. You rolled your eyes, as Logan routinely walked them through the apartment to the door, their faces often adorned with sly smiles as they fluttered their eyelashes at him. A knot of anger twisted in your belly as you watched them play with the collar of his shirt, their fingers lingering while he made no move to pull away. You'd never felt such intense rage before. He responded with a grunt as they would casually give him a goodbye kiss.
You hated experiencing feelings like these. It was a gross emotion, a heavy sensation that felt thick and tar-like, clinging to your chest and making you ache with its heavy weight.
Anxiety? Sure, you were often more anxious than most mutants, but that wasn't the feeling you had at this moment. Maybe it was jealousy? You disliked how that emotion fit so easily on your tongue, leaving a bitter taste.
Each time you witnessed these scenes unfold, jealousy and frustration would wash over you. Or how you'd feel utterly awful whenever you accidentally overheard them having sex.
As Logan reentered the apartment and closed the door behind him, you couldn't help but snort. “So, what number are we up to now?”
He stared at you for a moment, before chuckling and shaking his head with a smirk. “Not sure, lost count.” He shrugged, grabbed an apple from the fruit basket on the kitchen island, and took a bite.
“What was their name?” you asked, staring daggers at your bowl of cereal.
Logan shrugged again. “I don't know, and honestly, I don't care,” he replied curtly before walking away.
You couldn't understand how he could be so nonchalant about this situation.
It wasn't just jealousy; you longed for any kind of affection or love from Logan, more than you ever thought possible. You were grateful to be his best friend and you knew it might seem foolish to hope for a chance with him, but you couldn't help yourself. Deep down, you feared you'd always feel this lonely, believing you could never fall for anyone but him. He was everything you craved and needed in life.
You felt foolish, constantly embarrassed and rejected. More than anything, you felt hurt, knowing that you were the only one to blame. It was your own feelings that had caused all this pain.
The thought of him one day falling in love with someone else made your stomach sink, but you pushed and suppressed your sadness aside daily. It didn't really matter—Logan was free to date whoever he wanted. He was your best friend, only his best friend.
One day, you'd have to come to terms with the fact that he would always be just your best friend.
You just hoped that one day it would become easier to deal with these feelings.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It was the middle of a cold winter night — the air cool against your skin, even with your large pink puffer jacket to keep you warm. The thick curtain of night enveloped the sky, painting it a deep midnight blue, with stars twinkling like the clearest diamonds. Despite the cool ambient air, you found yourself relaxing, your shoulders gradually easing.
“You see that there?” you pointed up at the starlit sky, leaning unconsciously into Logan's warmth as you both lay on the grass of the X-mansion grounds. “That's the Pleiades. People often mistake it for the Little Dipper, but it's just a star cluster.”
Logan hummed, but his eyes were focused on you, how you gazed up at the stars with an awestruck expression. A gentle smile tugged at his lips, as he enjoyed how you looked so endearing as you were so engrossed in the stars that you loved so dearly.
He glanced up at the part of the sky you were pointing to, located the cluster of stars you had mentioned. He studied it for a moment and thought he had seen something similar to the Pleiades before, but never illuminated in the night sky like this. Logan's gaze then returned to the earth, settling back on the grass where he lay beside you.
“Beautiful,” Logan whispered as he stared at you. “Truly beautiful.”
You were too busy gazing up at the sky to realise that he wasn't talking about the sky.
For as long as you could remember, you had loved the night sky, finding its dark embrace profoundly comforting. More than that, you adored the stars—coming out at night to bask in their radiance, with their distant coldness soothing your soul.
You had always felt so mesmerised about the universe, especially the stars and the moon. They appeared beautiful, glittering magnificently beside one another as they hovered in the upper stratosphere.
“Why did you bring me out here, Lo?” you finally asked, looking up at your best friend. You noticed him smirk down at you and saw a fleeting hint of hesitant insecurity in his green eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.
He shrugged against you, still grinning. “I know how much you enjoy stargazing, and I'm aware you've had a rough week, so I wanted to give you a chance to relax for a bit.”
You softened as you gazed up at him. Logan was right—you had been having a rough week. The children had been sweet, but the workload had been overwhelming. You couldn't help but appreciate how Logan was always looking out for you.
“Thank you…” you whispered.
“Anything for you, sweetheart.” He winked before he looked back up at the sky. “Why don't you show me another constellation?”
You giggled as you pointed out another cluster of stars, but more often than not, Logan found it hard to focus on the stars. After all, he had a bright light of his own by his side daily that captured all of his attention.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
A year had passed since you moved in with Logan, and autumn was already around the corner. The temperature was gradually dropping, and the air became crisper. The trees' leaves were starting to fade from vibrant greens to tamer shades of bronze and gold. You had always loved this time of year—it was that perfect season where you could bundle up in layers when you were outside, then retreat indoors in the evenings, getting cosy with a hot chocolate and a good book.
It was during seasons like this that you found yourself wishing you could cuddle up with someone, enjoying a movie or simply each other's company. But it wasn't just anyone you wanted by your side—it had always been Logan for you.
For the longest time, you were content in just keeping all your feelings hidden. Lately, though, the longing had been getting harder to bear. Wanting someone you knew you couldn't have was starting to feel unbearable, slowly eating away at you. And even though you knew he could never be yours, it didn't stop you from savouring the sweet ache in your heart every time he smiled or when he pulled you into a warm, platonic hug.
All the stupid fluttery feelings in your stomach every time his eyes would catch yours, or the way your heart beat fast whenever you were in close proximity to him. You knew it had been years since you'd known Logan, but you couldn't help the effect he always had on you. The way he left you yearning for more. But, of course, you tried to bury those feelings down deep, reminding yourself that Logan could never feel the same way about you as you felt about him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
One lazy afternoon, with no classes scheduled for you to teach, you found yourself by the lake on the X-Mansion grounds, practising your water bending. The water flowed seamlessly around you as you moved your arms, bending it effortlessly to your will. As you went through each movement, you could feel a pair of eyes on you, observing every precise motion, your muscles tensing with each fluid shift. A light sheen of sweat formed on your brow, and your face held a fierce look of concentration as you focused on perfecting your stance and movements.
Several moments had passed, and the person watching you still hadn't spoken a word. By now, you were almost certain it wasn't just anyone—it had to be Logan. Anyone else would have said something by now, maybe greeted you or asked about your training. But not Logan. He had a way of lingering in silence, watching you in that quietly intense way of his, never feeling the need to fill the space with unnecessary words.
“Well, are you just going to stand there and stare, or do you plan on saying something?” you asked, a playful smile tugging at your lips.
Logan grunted, “I think I'll just keep watching. I quite like the view from here.”
A flush of warmth spread across your face, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his words. You hesitated for a moment, pausing your movements before he spoke again.
“Don't stop on my account, sweetheart.”
You knew he was wearing one of his signature grins, and you so desperately wanted to wipe it off his face. As you grew more flustered, a wave of frustration built up inside you—how could this man always have such an effect on you? An idea sparked in your mind, a mischievous smirk tugging at your lips. Deciding to continue your water bending practice while he watched, you let the water flow effortlessly around you, fully aware of his eyes tracking your every move.
Once a peaceful stillness settled in the air, you saw your opening. Without warning, you spun around with swift precision, bending the water toward him and drenching him in seconds.
Logan stood there, completely perplexed as you broke into a fit of giggles. He was drenched from head to toe, and you knew it wouldn't be long before he sprang into action. Sure enough, just seconds later, he smirked again, though this time it carried a sharper edge. “You think this is funny, bub?”
“Yeah, I kinda do,” you replied between laughs, unable to contain yourself.
But then, Logan's grin turned devious, and with a determined march, he began closing the distance between you. Your eyes widened in realisation, and without thinking, you bolted away.
“You're not getting away with this, princess,” he called out, his voice low as he gave chase.
He moved swiftly through the gardens, but you were quicker, slipping just out of sight every time he got close. His eyes darted around, scanning the area, frustration slowly turning into determination. You could hear him muttering under his breath, his footsteps getting louder as he searched for you. Your heart raced as you ducked behind a tree, trying to stifle your laughter. The thrill of the chase had adrenaline coursing through your veins.
For a moment, you thought you had lost him, but then he sniffed and just as you peeked around the tree, you saw him spot you from across the grove. His eyes gleamed with mischief as a smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “I got you,” he muttered before he moved towards you with renewed speed. You tried to slip away again, but it was too late—he had you cornered.
Soon enough, two strong arms caged you in, trapping you between the tree and his chest. A startled yelp escaped your lips as you tried to back away, only to realise there was nowhere to go. “Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing, the familiar playful glint in his eyes making your heart race even faster.
You squirmed, trying to find a way out, but his grip tightened just enough to keep you in place without being overbearing. “Logan! Let me go,” you protested, laughter bubbling up in your throat despite your attempt to sound serious.
“Thought you could get away that easily, huh?” he teased, leaning in so close that you could feel his wet clothes and the warmth of his body. The heat from his proximity spread across your own, making you acutely aware of how close you were. You bit your lip, your cheeks becoming hotter as his smirk widened. The sight of your flustered expression seemed to delight him, his satisfaction evident in his playful gaze.
“Well, this is cosy,” you remarked, but your voice barely rose above a whisper. There was a tremor in your tone, one that matched the rapid beat of your heart.
“Hm, I think so too,” he responded with the same teasing tone. You gazed up at him with bright eyes as the golden hour of evening cast a warm glow around you both. It took all his willpower not to look away, not to acknowledge the tension that hung thick in the air.
You shifted against the tree, searching for a different way to elicit a reaction from him. Your touch light, almost accidental, but it sent a shockwave through him, his breath hitching in his throat. You could feel him stiffen, sensing the tension as he reacted to your contact.
He leaned in, just enough that he could feel your breath against his skin, just enough that the space between you became almost non-existent, and just enough to hear your breath hitch.
Logan closed his eyes, as he pressed his forehead against your own. Every time he tried to speak, the words got tangled up in the mess of emotions swirling inside him. All he could think about was how close you were, how your touch burned through him, how the smell of you, that unique soft scent of yours, filled his senses and made him want to lose himself in you.
“Lo—”
Before you could finish, Ororo's voice rang out, calling your name. You felt a wave of disappointment wash over you as you realised your moment with Logan was interrupted. You had forgotten about the promise to cook together with her and Jean, and your friend's timing burst the bubble of what you thought might finally be a shared moment with him.
He grunted in frustration, pulling away from you and looking off to the side. Ororo, Jean, and even Scott soon found their way to you, their presence drawing closer. As they approached, each of them wore a grin that suggested they had noticed the tension between you and Logan. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, and it was clear that your friends had picked up on the charged moment that had just been interrupted.
You cleared your throat and stepped reluctantly away from Logan, trying to regain your composure. You forced a smile as you addressed your friends, saying, “Sorry to keep you guys waiting.” You then walked away with Jean and Ororo towards the mansion, though you couldn't help glancing back over your shoulder. Each time you looked, a hint of longing appeared on your face as you cast a final, wistful glance at Logan.
As you walked away, you heard Scott remark, “You look wet.”
Logan responded with a huff, “Fuck off, Summers.”
You couldn't help but wonder what would've happened if your friends wouldn't have interrupted you.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
It had been Friday evening, and you were in your office at the institute, finishing up grading the last of the papers while waiting for Logan. The two of you had plans to head home together, but he had yet to come and find you. Growing impatient, you decided to look for him yourself. You grabbed your bag and jacket before going out of your office, closing the door silently behind you. The smell of stew wafted through the mansion as you jogged down the stairs from your office to the kitchen. You quietly approached and paused when you saw him with Jean. She was chopping vegetables, while Logan leaned against the island, holding a cup of coffee.
“I don't see why you don't just do it. Everyone can see how perfect you two are for each other,” Jean had sighed.
Your eyes widened and you bit your lip nervously as you instinctively hid behind the wall. You truly hoped Logan wouldn't smell your scent while hiding, considering his heightened sense of smell. You knew you shouldn't be eavesdropping, but your curiosity had gotten the better of you. Jean's words had left you intrigued about what they were discussing.
Logan huffed, “I've already told you—” he tried arguing, but Jean cut him off mid-sentence.
“Logan, come on,” Jean said pointedly. “You keep denying it, but everyone here has seen the two of you dance around each other for years. You can't honestly tell me that you're just friends. Friends don't act the way you two do with each other.”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Logan asked, tilting his head to the side. Your stomach churned as you realised they were talking about the two of you. Silently, you pressed your back against the wall and shuffled further behind it, continuing to listen.
“It means that friends don't stare at each other longingly, or they don't flirt with each other, and they certainly don't cuddle together while sharing the same bed,” Jean said, emphasising her point as Logan began to argue. “Besides,” she continued, “you've known her for a while now. There's no one you've been more comfortable with than her. We all know you'll look after each other and be happy together. So why haven't you done anything about it? All we want is for you both to be happy,” Jean concluded.
You bit your lip at her words, feeling a mix of hope and nervousness churn in your stomach. With trembling fingers, you held your breath, waiting for Logan's response. When you heard him sigh, you felt your world begin to crumble around you.
“Yeah, but Jean, it's not like that. We are not like that. We're just friends,” Logan had replied. You had pressed your teeth harshly into your lip, biting down so hard you feared you might draw blood. It was the only thing keeping you from sobbing out loud. Logan's words replayed over and over in your mind. While you had always known he felt that way, hearing it confirmed so casually had left your heart breaking.
Not wanting to listen any longer, you silently turned and hurried toward the main entrance, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once outside, tears flooded your vision as you ran to the mansion gates, searching through your bag for your phone to call a cab. Since you hadn't brought your car and had driven in with Logan that morning, calling a cab was your only option.
When the cab finally arrived, you slid into the backseat and gave the driver your instructions. As he drove you home, you took a deep breath, struggling to swallow the lump in your throat. Your breath came in labored gasps as you fought to keep from breaking down in tears. Your mind was running a mile a minute as you tried to process his words. Silently you let the tears flow down your cheeks.
When you arrived at your building, you paid the cab and noticed your phone buzzing incessantly. You quickly silenced it as you entered your apartment, not bothering to look at who was trying to contact you.
Once you entered your bedroom, you broke down just then as you let out a choked sob while stripping off your clothes. With great effort, you managed to put on your pyjamas before climbing into bed. Soon, you would let your destructive thoughts take over. Deep down, you knew you shouldn't have eavesdropped on their conversation and jumped to conclusions, especially since Logan wasn't done speaking with Jean. But you couldn't bear to stay and listen any longer. You felt too vulnerable as you let his words echo inside your head.
You had been ignoring all the texts from your friends and the calls from Logan specifically, too drained to even hold a conversation.
Eventually, you felt sleep overtaking you, utterly exhausted from a long workweek and an emotionally draining evening.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That same night, you had jolted awake to the sound of a loud rumble. Outside, storm clouds loomed ominously over the city, with thunder crackling through them every few minutes. The storm had been raging outside your apartment, with thunder booming so fiercely it shook the windows. Curled up in your bed, you had whimpered softly, clutching a thick blanket tightly around you—not just for warmth, but for comfort and a sense of protection.
You had never liked thunderstorms, and by now, you must have tried a thousand different ways to distract yourself from them. You'd put on headphones to drown out the noise, but the knowledge of the storm outside still fed your anxiety. Thunderstorms always had a way of making you feel small and utterly helpless.
You felt a tightness building in your chest as you trembled beneath the sheets. Tears welled up in your eyes as you tried to steady your breathing and calm yourself down. In moments like these, you felt truly helpless. You knew you shouldn't feel ashamed for being this terrified, but you couldn't help it.
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on the song playing through your headphones, desperate to drown out the storm. Moments later, you felt the bed dip. Slowly, you opened your eyes and found Logan sitting at the end of your bed, his soft gaze fixed on you with a look of quiet concern. A wave of relief washed over you just at the sight of him. Part of you wanted to ignore him and continue being upset with everything that had happened earlier that evening, but you couldn't find the power to do so. After all, he probably didn't even know why you were upset and who were you even kidding, he was everything you needed.
He was sitting there shirtless, dressed only in a pair of grey sweatpants. His hair was tousled from sleep. If it weren't for the sheer terror you felt because of the storm outside, you knew your cheeks would be burning at the sight of him like this. You noticed his mouth moving and, reluctantly, you slid one headphone off your ear to hear him.
“W-what?” you squeaked, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Sweetheart,” Logan whispered cautiously into the darkness.
At the sound of his voice, the tears that had been brimming in your eyes finally spilled down your cheeks. “I'm so sorry, I feel so stupid,” you whispered, taking off your headphones and quickly trying to wipe your tears away, embarrassed by your emotions and the fact that you were terrified by the storm.
Seconds later Logan was climbing up the bed and he was lying right next to you. His strong arms wrapped around your shaking form almost immediately, holding you tightly.
“Shhh it's okay sweet girl, I've got you,” he whispered softly as he kissed your temple. Warmth spread through you at the action and you melted into his embrace.
“I hate being scared of them, Lo,” you mumbled into his chest as he squeezed you tightly.
“It's okay princess, I got you. I won't let anything happen to you.” His hands, surprisingly soft, were stroking your skin in a soothing manner as he continued to press soft kisses around the top of your head.
As Logan held you, you felt yourself slowly begin to calm down. Even though the storm showed no signs of letting up, his presence made you feel much more at ease and secure. Logan meant everything to you—he was your anchor.
“Please, stay,” you whispered as the last few tears slipped down your cheeks.
In the dark, Logan whispered your name and tightened his embrace. “I'm not going anywhere, baby girl.”
As Logan held you close, you felt your body relax gradually. He gently ran his hand through your hair, pulling the covers over both of you and adding an extra layer of warmth.
You reflected on how he often spoke to you and the way he treated you with such care. You couldn't help but overthink his sweet and gentle treatment. You knew you were more emotional and needed extra reassurance and patience, but you had never considered that he might actually have feelings for you beyond friendship. You often felt like a burden to your friends and especially to Logan. You were fairly certain you were the only one he treated this way. His teasing sometimes seemed like it could be flirting, and despite your attempts to deny it, deep down you sensed that you were somehow special to him. 
But another part of you couldn't shake what he had said earlier that night to Jean. You felt deeply conflicted and confused about everything happening between the two of you. The uncertainty and mixed emotions left you struggling to understand his true feelings, unsure of how to navigate the situation.
So you did what felt best to you, which was communicating. Even if you hated confrontation so much, you hated being unsure even more.
“Lo?” your voice trembled as you whispered against him.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He said gently.
You took a little longer to respond, lost in your own thoughts, overthinking everything. Your heart was practically beating out of your chest. Sensing your hesitation, Logan spoke up again, breaking through your spiralling mind.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice lingering in the air as your eyes fluttered open. His head was tilted slightly, worry etched across his face.
“'M-am fine… I just—” you stuttered, your voice cracking. Logan stared at you, waiting patiently for you to finish. “I need to talk about something, or-or it will probably eat me alive if I don't.”
Logan's brow furrowed as his concern deepened, but he remained patient, waiting for you to continue.
“I- I overheard you and Jean earlier tonight…” your voice barely above a whisper.
Recognition settled over him at your words. He sighed shortly after. “What exactly did you hear?”
“You said…” your voice faltered, cracking slightly before you took a deep breath, closing your eyes. “You said we weren't like 'that,' and that we were just friends. After hearing that, I couldn't stay. It hurt too much.” You paused, your words tumbling out in a rush. “I know I shouldn't have eavesdropped, and I'm sorry... I just—” Your voice trailed off as you buried your face in his chest, your rambling finally coming to an end.
He let out a deep sigh, pulling you closer into his embrace. One of his hands gently cupped your cheek, causing your breath to hitch at the contact. “Sweetheart,” he said, his voice steady but filled with warmth. Slowly, you opened your eyes, tears welling up as you met his gaze. Logan's expression softened, and he let out a soothing sound. “Angel, if you'd stayed a little longer, you would've heard the rest of the conversation.”
“W-what?” You squeaked, your heart pounding against your chest as you anxiously waited for him to continue.
“First of all,” he began, locking eyes with you as he spoke, “I told Jean that I couldn't tell you how I felt because I never thought you'd feel the same way. I figured you were better off not knowing how I feel about you because…” His voice faltered for a moment, a heavy sigh escaping him before he continued, “I've always believed I didn't deserve someone like you. Someone so beautiful, so patient, intelligent, caring and so sweet.”
“Lo—” It was difficult to process everything he had said. You had been so sure that he didn't feel anything more than platonic for you, so hearing that he did was overwhelming and you needed to let it sink in. “I just thought... you know, with all the people you've had over in the past, you wouldn't feel anything for me,” you said, your sadness making it hard to finish the sentence and your nerves bracing for the words you had been dreading to hear.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
“I know it sounds stupid, but I kept convincing myself that if I would have meaningless sex with random people that I would get over you. That if I told you how I felt, I’d lose you,” he went on, his vulnerability tugging at your heart. “That’s the last thing I want. You mean too much to me to risk that. I love you, and the thought of losing you—even if it meant not having you the way I wanted—was unbearable.”
Tears welled in your eyes, slowly slipping down your cheeks as he poured out his heart, leaving you in disbelief. You hiccuped through your tears, “You... y-you love me?”
His expression softened further as he took in your puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Gently, he used his hands to wipe away the tears that were slipping down your cheeks, handling you with far more tenderness and care than you had shown yourself earlier.
“Of course I do,” he replied softly. “In every universe, there's no one I love more than you.”
“Logan, you deserve me. Just as much as I deserve you,” you said, cupping his cheeks as tears continued to stream down your own. “You don't have an idea how much I love you.”
Logan smiled softly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His arms tightened around you as he began to pepper your face with tender kisses. You couldn't help but giggle against him, feeling the tension between you both melt away bit by bit. The tears slowly came to a stop.
As the emotional intensity of the moment subsided, you felt a sense of relief and contentment. The storm outside seemed to fade into the background as you basked in the warmth of your newfound understanding. You knew that challenges would still come, but facing them together felt infinitely more manageable now that you had acknowledged your feelings for each other.​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​
After placing a final kiss on the tip of your nose, he pulled back, his gaze filled with such deep affection that it left you feeling overwhelmed—but in the best possible way.
Logan caressed your face with fondness as he admired you. “You’re beautiful.”
You’d feel flustered instantly. “You’re so handsome Logan.” You whispered timidly. 
“Really?” He’d smile down at you. 
“Yes,” you whispered, continuing to meet his gaze shyly, your heart racing as his touch lingered on your skin.
You felt his hand slip beneath the hem of your nightshirt, his fingers tracing the soft skin of your back. A shiver ran down your spine at his touch, drawing his playful gaze as his eyes glinted mischievously. Your breath hitched when his other hand brushed against your bottom lip, sending warmth flooding through your body as his touch became more intimate, exploring you with quiet intensity.
“Do I make you nervous?” he teased with a devious grin.
“I guess you do,” you admitted, biting your lip bashfully.
“And why's that?” Logan asked, leaning in even closer. You could feel his breath against your lips, his nose brushing gently against yours. 
There’s a moment of silence as Logan’s face moves closer and closer to your own, both unable to verbalise just how desperate either of you feel for each other.
His hands are warm as they wander all over your back, underneath the soft fabric of your pyjamas. Your eyes flutter close as you enjoy his attention. You feel yourself get lightheaded by his affection and by the close proximity of your bodies.
As your eyes remained locked with his, the intensity between you grew. You found yourself studying every detail of Logan’s face—the small moles scattered across his skin, his beautiful green eyes, the rough stubble along his jawline. Your gaze drifted from his eyes, down the slope of his nose, until you were irresistibly drawn to his lips. His mouth looks so inviting.
How much you’ve dreamed of having them on your own.
You swallowed dryly at the intensity behind his eyes, your heart beating madly in your chest. A flare of heat rushed to your cheeks as you resolved to reveal the truth. You didn’t want to keep it from him any longer, especially with him looking at you as if he was about to devour you.
“B-because I—” you finally spoke as you stumbled over your words. You felt weak in his presence, but in the best way imaginable. Heat spreads through your body, a feverish sensation overwhelming your senses. Your heart raced, refusing to calm down, and your limbs trembled uncontrollably. It wasn’t the kind of fever that came with illness, but a warmth—tingling, like anticipation coursing through your veins. You whimpered as the same warmth settled between your thighs. “I need y-yo—”
Before you could finish your sentence, his lips crashed onto yours, kissing you with an intensity and passion that left you trembling and helpless, while soft whimpers escaped your throat. He’d tug your body fully closer against his own as his mouth claimed yours.
All your thoughts overwhelmed your brain, disabling any rational understanding of what was going on. Gradually, you leaned into Logan, melting into his embrace. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Logan groaned as he continued to kiss you with a fierce intensity, giving everything he had. You felt his tongue tracing your lips slowly. Knowing what he wanted you parted your mouth slightly, allowing him to slip his tongue inside and swirl it around yours.
You absorbed all his passion, savouring the warmth of his closeness and the sensation of his rough yet soft hands holding you tightly. You didn’t want to ask how this was happening, nor did you dare question whether it was real or just a dream.
One of his hands roamed over the bare skin of your back beneath your pyjama shirt, leaving goosebumps in his wake, while the other explored the tender curve of your neck. He held you with such tenderness as his mouth continued to move ferociously against yours.
You whimpered against him as warmth and wetness continued to pool between your thighs, your pussy throbbing as his voice rumbled with a chuckle. “You okay there, kitten?” he asked softly, his voice low as his lips brushed against your jaw.
You knew he could smell your arousal, knew he could hear how fast your heart was beating. You bit your lip, trying to stifle another sound, and you tried to bury your face into his chest, feeling the heat spreading across your face and body. Logan was having none of that, his lips quickly reunited with yours. He groaned softly, a deep rumble in his chest, as you trailed your tongue out to seek purchase in his mouth, and he opened for you without hesitation. His hands gripped at your waist and brought your body flush against his.
You wanted Logan to consume your very being. Claim you as his completely.
Soft little noises of pleasure kept leaving your mouth as he continued to kiss you. His lips pressed against yours, guiding the kiss with a gentle control that made you melt into his embrace. You surrendered completely, letting him lead as you revelled in the sensation. He was so good at kissing that all you wanted was to stay in this moment with him forever.
He pulled away after what felt like hours to breathe, his warm pants fanning across your heated face. He was still holding your face with one hand, and his thumb on your cheek moved a little, stroking your skin with so much tenderness. Murmuring against your lips, he said, “I’ve wanted to do this for so long. I love you so much.” before delving back in for more.
You whimpered as he nipped at your bottom lip, then gently swiped his tongue over it to soothe the sting. You gasped, and Logan seized the moment to explore the inside of your mouth with his tongue once again. As the kiss grew more heated, you moaned, feeling lightheaded and dizzy.
Surprisingly, you completely forgot about the storm that’s raging outside.
Logan devoured you, pouring all his love into you and claiming your mouth and kissing you with so much passion, your body shuddered with want, from the need for him. He moved his lips with yours and swirled his tongue with your own. His hand then moved to tangle in your hair as he pressed his body to yours completely.
Your hands moved to bury in his hair as well. When you pulled at his hair it was a bit rougher than you intended to and it tips his head all the way back and he lets out a loud, wanton moan that makes your whole body flush with arousal. You whined as he finally pulled away, as he left your body flush and panting and craving so much more.
His mouth then moved from your lips to your cheeks as he whispered his love for you again and again. He started trailing long, hot kisses down your jaw and neck. You whimpered pitifully as he suckled lightly on the side of your neck, tilting your head back instinctively to bare more of your soft skin to him.
“Fuck, baby, you’re everything.” He groaned as he bit down gently on the junction of your neck and shoulder. You cried out, impulsively grinding your hips against his own, desperately searching for some much needed friction against your throbbing clit. “You’re mine.” He’d growl against your skin.
You gasped, your eyes flying open when you felt his erection pressing against your pussy. You moaned as your core started clenching around nothing, begging for some attention, his attention.
Logan groaned as you continued to grind against him, grasping your hips into his hands to halt your movements. You whined in protest, as he then rolled you both over, hovering above you as he pinned your arms gently against the mattress.
“So needy.” He chuckled as a devious smile would grow on his face. “Does your sweet little pussy want some attention?” He grinned when you whimpered underneath him, before he continued. “I can always smell how much you need me.” He growled before he rolled his hips against yours again. “This virgin pussy is always begging for me to fill her.”
You didn’t have time to become embarrassed as high pitched whimpers slipped past your lips as he continued to grind against you. You’ve craved this man so bad, and now that he was yours you didn’t want to hold back anymore. He intertwined your hands together as he moved his big straining and clothed cock against your now soaked panties. 
“Love those little noises you make for me, such a good girl.” He moaned against the skin of your neck as he pressed open mouthed kisses and licks across your skin. 
You whined as he gave you a particular hard thrust. You could feel how massive he felt as he rubbed his cock against your clothed folds. You couldn’t deny that it made you nervous but all you could think about was that you needed and wanted him to take you so bad. More wetness would pool down your heated cunt as you fantasise about him filling your tiny pussy with more than just his cock. “Ah, n-need yo-you Lo…”
Suddenly everything became overwhelming, the temperature in the room rising quickly, the feel of his thick cock thrusting against you, the feel of his touch as it wandered all over your skin and the fact that you were going into a foreign but intimate territory with your best friend had you feeling hot all over.
His features softened as he took in how overwhelmed and flustered you looked. He slowed down his movements and one of his hands would move to hold your face as he slowly leaned down to peck your lips. “You’re okay baby girl, I’ve got you. I will take good care of you.” He whispered against your lips. His low voice sent a new wave of arousal down your body. “Tell me what you need, kitten.”
“You, I need you, Logan. I've always only needed you,” you whimpered against his lips as you reconnected them. His hands gently caressed your thighs, and your mind became hazy with intense lust and overwhelming love for him. Your brain instantly turned into mush as you continued to kiss each other passionately.
The kiss then increased with an intensity that had you gasping for breath. You rolled your hips into his, rubbing your throbbing clit against him for some friction against your core. You moaned into his mouth as you rubbed against him. The front of his sweatpants strained as he moved along with you.
As you kept losing yourself in the kiss, you felt his hands wander up your thighs up to the hem of your shirt. His fingers brushed delicately over the sides of your ribs, moving up and down your skin repeatedly, his fingertips mapping out every dip and curve as they wandered all over your skin.
“You're beautiful,” he whispered against your lips, admiring you, making you glance up at him shyly from beneath him. He pulled away just slightly only for him to hold the hem of your shirt, and you could tell what he was about to ask before he opened his mouth. You bit your lip and nodded vigorously, causing him to chuckle breathlessly. “You want me to take this off?” He questioned as he tugged at the fabric gently. 
You nodded bashfully, unable to use or trust your voice during that moment. 
He smiled softly, his hands gently brushing under your shirt before hooking his fingers into the fabric. Slowly, he lifted it, and you raised your arms to help him slip it off.
You felt heat rising on your skin the way his eyes roamed all over you, taking in every little detail. The way Logan was looking at you, eyes filled with nothing but love, adoration and lust, made you feel so alive.
He discarded the piece of clothing to the side and began mouthing along your collarbone with affection. You trembled underneath him as he showered you with his attention. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered repeatedly as his mouth travelled all over your exposed skin.
His large hands moved to the curve of your waist where it met your hips and clutched it, holding you tight as he littered damp kisses and nips to your shoulders and any skin along the way down to your breasts. You whimpered as he traced the tip of his nose over the swell of your breast.
He smirked as he looked up at you, breathing in through his nose as he inhaled your scent and you couldn’t help but shiver when he exhaled warmly through his mouth and onto your nipple. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re so hot.”
Then, he wrapped his lips around one nipple, teeth just skimming your skin as he sucked and licked with passion.
“L-Lo,” you mewl as you try to grind your hips against him, your cunt seeking friction as it throbs with need.
“Feeling good kitty?” He quipped back as he grins up at you. You felt your skin flush with heat as you just stared down at him. Lust was written all over your face and he had no trouble reading your expression. So he resumed licking, long, lavishing licks with the flat of his tongue over your pebbled nipple as the other hand which was occupying your other breast, travelled all the way down to your panties. 
As his fingers slipped underneath the band of your lacy underwear, down to where you needed him the most, his mouth fell open to unleash a loud groan onto your nipple as he felt your wetness, sliding his fingers between your soaked folds.
He explored your wet cunt patiently. Heat overwhelmed your senses as Logan continued to litter soft kisses all over your chest. Your hands found his head, running your fingers through his hair as his mouth continued to wander all over your naked skin.
Logan’s lips moved slowly down your body, kissing every little place he could find on your skin while his hands traced along.
Soon, he would retreat his hand from your heat, leaving you a whimpering mess. He then leant forward, his face meeting your sex, breathing in the smell of your pussy, running his nose against the damp patch on your underwear. You whimpered as he inhaled your scent. “Fuck kitten,” he growled as he couldn’t seem to stop smelling you. “This pussy smells so good, I can’t wait to taste ya.”
A devious smile played on Logan’s lips as he looked up at you through his eyelashes. “I am sure you taste just as good as you smell, if not better.” He groaned before taking your underwear between his teeth, while pulling it off your legs slowly. A shuddering breath left your lips, speechless as you watched him take off your lacy panties, becoming needier the longer you watched him. Logan kept looking at you as he slid down your body, pulling it off of you when it reached your ankles.
Once he took them off completely he gently pushed your legs wide for him, whimpering as the air hit your wet slit. He took a moment as his eyes took over you, your glistening centre clenching around nothing as he continued to stare at your wet hole. The man between your legs would moan at the sight. Not much later, Logan smirked as he kissed all the way up to your leg, taking his sweet time to give your body the attention you deserved. He pressed soft kisses from your ankles up to your knees, his hands moving along with his mouth, caressing the insides of your thighs as he gradually moved up your legs.
His lips lingered on your thighs, licking and sucking some kisses on your soft skin, Logan’s lips were so close to where you needed him the most yet he felt so far away.
“So pretty,” he murmured as he guided your legs over either of his shoulders.
You were about to beg as his lips detached from your thigh, only for moments later to feel him nuzzling against your pussy, smearing your juices across his lips and opening you up to his skilled tongue.
You gasp and squirm at the contact of his wet tongue.
He then pulls back for a second, “pussy tastes so good,” he moaned before his fingers moved to spread your outer lips for him. “But I think I'm gonna play with my girl for a bit.” Logan smiled as he slid a finger inside of you, watching the way your body squirmed at the sensation, moaning against the pillow next to you as you tried to muffle yourself.
You moaned as he moved his thick and long finger inside your tight walls. “So wet for me baby girl, you’re literally dripping on my finger,” he said before he pressed some kisses on your pubic bone, making you buck your hips in response. “Easy, kitty, we have all night.”
“L-Logan, please please I need more. Need your mouth and just. More. Pleaseeee need you so ba—” your whining got cut off the moment you felt his lips wrap around your clit, sucked it into his mouth, coaxing a loud but broken moan out of you. “F-Fuck!”
You felt like screaming, you didn’t know what to do with your hands, feeling so lost and overwhelmed with the pleasure Logan was giving you already. He dove between your legs, licking a stripe up through your folds and teasingly dipping his tongue into your entrance along with his finger before he travelled up to your clit, spreading your lips with his wet appendage before sucking your button into his mouth.
The whine that came out of you only drove Logan to seek out more of those heavenly sounds. As his one single digit pumped in and out of you, you couldn’t help but appreciate that his fingers felt so much more pleasurable and thicker than your own. As bliss overwhelmed your senses, you felt your whole body start to tremble. 
Your core began clenching around his finger, begging for more. He pumped his finger in and out of you at a leisurely pace. Instinctively you tried moving your hips, slowly, grinding against his hand and mouth as he moaned. He gave you an intense look as he continued to fuck you with his finger. His eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place as he admired how beautiful you were underneath him.
You were panting heavily, barely able to think straight, your mind turning hazy as he slowly slipped a second finger inside your tight channel. 
Logan moved them slowly at first as your pussy tried to adjust to the addition. The stretch was overwhelming but oh so satisfying. Little whimpers left your lips as he fucked you with his fingers. He moved his face back to meet yours, engulfing you in a passionate kiss, swallowing all your little mewls.
You gasped, his tongue slipped inside your mouth, kissing you with so much passion, giving you everything he had to offer. “That feels good doesn't it, princess?” Logan groaned as his thumb made contact with your clit. You bucked your hips and nodded quietly. “Use your words pretty girl,” he taunted while he curled his fingers inside you as he played with the sensitive spot inside you.
“Yes, please please Lo, feels… so good.” You moaned loudly.
Soon his lips travelled all the way down your body as whines and whimpers left your trembling lips, silently begging for more — all while he was still finger fucking you.
Logan inhaled your scent as soon as he leaned forward, but didn’t let you wait in anticipation much longer. He wet his lips before his head dipped between your legs, warm tongue licking a slow stripe across your outer lips, all the way up to your button.
“Ah, fuck!” You cried out, your hips bucking off the mattress. 
Squeaky, senseless noises bubbled up from your throat wantonly. Your hips stuttered against him and he just sighed like there was nothing in the world he'd rather do than this, eating you out on your bed.
You were a mess of his name, chanting and stuttering over and over again like a prayer. Your eyes squeezing shut to the point of tears, his mouth licked up your clit, as he continued to finger you while one of his other hands was holding your hip, pinning you to the soft sheets as you bucked into him, trying to urge him to do more.
The way he build up your arousal by pumping his fingers in and out of you, curling up ever so slightly to find the spongy spot inside of you. The familiar coil in your belly continued to build up as Logan suckled on your sensitive bud. Your abdomen tightened as he began quickening his pace again, his fingers hitting into that sweet spot with precision, had your toes curling as you clenched your thighs around his head.
Logan was lapping at you with determination, moving his fingers continuously as he slowly got you to the edge.
“Oh, my—”you whimpered, trembling digits sinking half into his brown hair and the other against your teeth, as you tried to silence yourself. “Fuck, aahh Logan, f-fuck…”
He moaned against you as his lips sealed around your clit and you bucked your hips at the action. Warmth spread throughout your whole body as he began talking you through it. “Fuckin’- you taste so good. Feels so good. You’re just… everything.”
You whimpered as he continued. “Come on,” he grunted as he pumped his fingers faster in and out of you. “Come on baby, cum for me.” 
“Ah, d-daddy,” You gasped loudly as your whole body trembled even more, the hot familiar feeling continued to spread all over your body, your body tingling, your hips moving at their own accord against Logan’s hand and face. Totally unaware of the word that slipped past your lips as your body tensed as he called you ‘a good girl’ and shortly after you came against his mouth and around his fingers. 
“That’s my girl.”
Your whole mind felt like exploding and all you could see were stars. You felt so overwhelmed by the amount of pleasure and emotions you were experiencing. Your body still trembled as you felt yourself come down from your high.
As you slowly came back to your senses you felt him gently pull his fingers out of your pulsing hole. But you still felt Logan’s mouth on you, licking and sucking at your pussy and it didn’t feel like he was gonna stop any time soon. You whined as he moaned against you while he licked against your tight entrance, licking up your release, his tongue prodding your slick hole.
“‘S too much.” You whimpered at the overstimulation.
Logan ignored your pleas, moaning against your heat as he continued to eat you out. The man you adored so much between your legs kept sliding his tongue up and down your sensitive slit. Your little mewls and other noises of ecstasy spurred him on, to move his lips back up to your clit, sucking the nub softly between his lips. 
“You love having daddy eat your sweet pussy don’t you?” He smirked, looking up at your flustered and embarrassed face as he continued licking your soaked cunt. “No need to be embarrassed, baby. I like it.”
The walls of your pussy clenched furiously, the empty feeling inside you intensifying with every lick, and as your wetness trickled out of you, your core practically begged him to fill it up.
“Oh sweet girl.” Logan tutted as you began grinding your hips against his face as moans kept spilling from your lips. “You’re so sensitive, kitten.” He chuckled as he pressed a kiss to your clit. 
Eventually he leaned down, finally slipping his tongue into your entrance, he curled the muscle upward to brush your walls, the sight of your fingers bunching the fabric of the sheets in a tight grip encouraged him to do it again and again.
Writhing below him, you felt him lick up and press against a sensitive spot inside that had you seeing stars, while your hips bucked against his face uncontrollably. Your fingers moved once again, gripping onto his dark hair rather harshly as you pushed your hips against his face shoving his tongue deeper inside your hole.
“Please,” you begged. “‘M close.”
“Please what?” He taunted as he continued to lick your heat.
“P-please,” you stuttered and paused before finishing timidly. “Daddy.”
“Good girl,” he said before plunging his tongue back inside you as his thumb came up to press against your little bundle of nerves. Moments later, the tension snapped inside your lower tummy, cumming with a loud whine, your hips stuttered as your vision blurred. You cried out his name, your voice unable to remain steady. 
Your hips stuttered until the final waves of aftershock pass. As you slowly came back down to reality again while you tried to catch your breath, you heard him praising you softly while he continued to lap at your wetness gently. You whined and nudged him away with your leg, only to react with a chuckle.
“Taste so good, baby. Could eat your sweet pussy all day.” He grinned as he licked the wetness off his mouth. Logan smirked, holding eye contact with you as he brought his glistening fingers to his mouth.
You giggled as he licked his fingers clean, feeling slightly embarrassed by the action. Trying to hide your flushed face, you lazily raised your hands to cover it, but Logan wasn’t having any of it. With a gentle smile, he placed tender kisses all over your hands, pulling them down slowly. Then, he leaned in closer, pressing sweet kisses to your nose, your forehead, and both your cheeks before finally capturing your lips. Each kiss was playful, filled with warmth, as laughter bubbled softly between you, his grin widening against your mouth.
He pulled away with a satisfied sigh, a warm smile spreading across his face as he reached to touch the side of your neck, tracing his fingertips up and down.
You exhaled as you melted at the feel of his touch and kissed his thumb as it came to trace across your lips. Your shaky legs wrapped around his hips, and with a playful gleam in your eyes, you gave his thumb a tender lick, holding his gaze as you rubbed your still sensitive heat against his clothed cock.
“F-fuck, you can’t just do that kitten.” He groaned as his hands came to hold your hips, stilling your movements.
You whined, pouting as you looked up at him. “Why not?”
“It’s hard to control myself around you.” He grunted as he started grinding his cock against you. Your gaze wandered downward, following the line of the vein near his V-line as it disappeared beneath his grey sweatpants. You couldn’t help but whine underneath him as he continued to grind his covered cock against your growing wetness. You gasped after giving you a particular hard thrust, that’s when you realised and felt he wasn’t wearing any underwear underneath them. He felt massive. “I’ve been trying to control myself for years. I think I’d have to control myself a bit longer.”
“W-why?” you hiccuped as he kept rutting his hips into yours.
“Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He mumbled, as his cock strained against his sweatpants.
“But I know you won’t.” You said, your voice steady, filled with all the confidence you could summon. You watched as his jaw clenched, his grip tightening slightly as he held himself back, resisting the urge to just take you like he always wanted.
“How are you so certain?” His breath hitched when you tightened your legs around him.
“I-I, because I trust you.” You continued to stutter as you both rolled your hips against each other. His eyes darkened with desire, but you could tell he was trying to restrain himself, fighting against what he truly wanted, even though the tension between you was nearly unbearable. Still, you held his gaze, unwavering. “Because you love me.”
Logan groaned, his eyes squeezing shut as he fought to keep control, every muscle in his body tense with the effort. You could see the conflict etched across his face, the battle between what he wanted and what he was trying to hold back. His grip on you tightened slightly, a sign of the restraint still lingering in him, though it was slowly slipping away. His breathing was ragged, and for a moment, you thought he might give in. But then, he swallowed hard, forcing himself to stay still, clinging to the last shred of restraint that hadn’t left him yet. “You don’t know how hard this is,” he muttered through gritted teeth, his voice thick with desire. “How difficult it’s been, every day since I met you, trying to hold back while being around you.”
“I think I do, Logan,” you whispered, gazing up at him. “Maybe not in the exact way you feel it, but I’ve struggled too, convincing myself daily that I could never have you. And now, realising I could’ve had you from the start—it’s almost unbearable.” You bit your lip, noticing how his expression softened. “That’s why I don’t want us to hold back anymore. I don’t think I can endure it any longer. Please, I need you, Logan. I love you, and I’ll always want you—”
Your words were cut off as Logan surged towards you, cupping your face as he kissed you passionately. His lips moved fervently against yours, as if he was trying to make up for every moment of restraint. Making up for any lost time. The intensity of his kiss made your head spin, your heartbeat quickening as you melted into his embrace. His hands then started roaming around your body, his hold on you tightening occasionally, pulling you closer, while his breath grew heavy as you felt every emotion as he kissed you. You clung to him, pouring out every feeling and emotion out with every heated kiss.
“I love you,” Logan murmured between tender kisses, breathlessly whispering your name.
Your own hands began wandering all over his body and eventually down his solid chest until your fingers met his abdomen, slipping momentarily underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. With a mix of urgency and desire, you tugged at them while whimpering underneath him as you continued to kiss him deeply.
“Just relax, baby. I’ve got you,” he whispered softly after pulling away from the kiss. He eventually took it upon himself to slowly peel back, shuffling a bit to rid himself of the last piece of fabric on his body. He tossed it aside, fully exposing himself to your hungry eyes.
Your breath hitched, your eyes wide. Fuck, he was massive. Long and thick in all the right ways. Just as you thought, the vein between his V Lines moved down to his cock. A spark of heat shot down to your pulsing core as you imagined how he would fit or fill you up. But it was also accompanied by a twinge of nerves.
Logan chuckled as he moved closer to you, his lips chasing your own as he enveloped you in another sweet but deep kiss. 
The two of you kissed languidly for a moment, treasuring the heat of each other's bodies as your lips slot together with ease, but soon enough the kisses become deeper, more frantic and hands start to grip tighter and legs tangling together. 
It's like you're both starved, this insatiable hunger for each other. 
You couldn’t help but roll your hips against his to feel his thick cock. You whined as it turned slick as you kept grinding yourself against him, and he had no trouble gliding his hips against you and rutting it into your clit.
You gasped openly into his mouth, desire growing quickly. You were so wet. Logan swallowed your whines with his lips against yours, hips rolling against you. He kissed you full with fervour, his grip on you intensifying heatedly.
He held his length in his hand as he kept rubbing the head of his cock from your entrance, up to your clit, circling until you were squirming underneath him, and back down. The thought of his thickness finally entering your pussy made you wetter by the second, turning you more on. Logan swallowed your little mewls with his mouth, his hips rolling with yours.
You were trembling against him, full of anticipation. His body covered your whole body with his. You writhed against him, wishing he was just in you already and filling you up and consuming you with pleasure once again.
“P-please, Logan.” You stuttered, your body trembling underneath him as you waited for his next move. 
Logan hummed as he concentrated while circling your clenching hole teasingly. You arched your back slightly as you whined, silently begging to finally fill your pussy the way you’ve always wanted him to do.
“Relax, baby girl.” He whispered after he licked and kissed underneath your ear.
“Please d-daddy, I-I need you.” You whimpered in anticipation. Logan would grunt loudly before nudging the tip of his cock against your soaked hole. Your legs trembled underneath him, a mix of nerves and excitement. “Want you to fill this little pussy. Need you t-to fill it with more than your cock. N-need your cum.” You whispered seductively against his ear as his last bit of restraint snaps. 
At your words, Logan gradually put more pressure on your entrance making you whimper underneath him, once he finally slid his tip inside you, a gasp elicited from the both of you.
You’re aware this was just barely the tip of him, but you couldn’t help but feel the stretch burn already. Logan slid in so slowly it was agonising. You cried out as he gradually pushed more of his pulsing cock inside your own clenching hole. He was so big.
You tangled your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling slightly as you whined underneath him. He panted along with you, his warm breath fanning over your face while he kept his forehead pressed against yours. The stretch stung, but his pace kept it bearable. He guided himself a centimetre further, then another, another, until you were digging your nails into his scalp, a gasp spilling from your lips.
His hips stilled instantly once he heard the pained noises falling from your lips. Tears began to prickle at your waterline, a combination of discomfort and the overwhelming feelings that were coursing through you.
“Doing so good for me baby,” he praised as he peppered your face with gentle kisses. “You’re doing so good for me.”
“Please,” you whimpered as your eyes fluttered close.
Logan continued to move almost painfully slow, letting you adjust to every centimetre of him. After a couple of seconds you were able to relax more into it. You whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the stretch, the heat in your abdomen growing as your walls fluttered around him, pleasure beginning to bloom in your stomach.
“So full…” you whined.
“Such a good girl,” he grunted softly. You think there wasn’t a possibility to get more wet but as he utters those words you felt your heat get even more wet. He leaned down as he kissed your lips gently, as he filled you up bit by bit. He hoped the sweetness of his embrace would soften the sting.
You’re trembling as you canted your hips up, begging for him to fill you to the brim, while you gripped the bedsheets between your fingers. “Please Lo, need more. I can take it, daddy.” You whimpered as you involuntarily and repeatedly tightened around his thick cock.
He groaned at your desperate whines, losing his composure momentarily as he thrust the rest of his length all the way inside your tiny hole. The head of his dick kissing your cervix once he bottomed out. You cried out as you were trembling underneath him, trying to adjust to his size while your pussy kept pulsing around his cock.
“Fuck, so fuckin’ tight.” He hissed as he let you adjust to his cock. 
His lips came to press soft and tender kisses all over your face as he let you relax. Tears brimmed at the corners of your eyes as you continued to adjust around him. You felt so full, as if he was made for you, and only you. The feeling of him filling you up so completely had you seeing stars and digging fingernails into his shoulders. You felt one of his hands finding your hand, lacing them with yours as the other one reached up to your face.
His breathing was heavy as you squeezed his cock repeatedly. Small whimpers left your lips as you squirm underneath him.
You needed more. 
You hadn’t even realised your eyes had drifted shut until you slowly opened them, gazing up at Logan with a soft, pleading look. “Please, Logan.”
“What do you need, sweetheart?” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated deep in his chest.
“Need more.” You whispered.
“Aww, does my sweet girl need me to move?” he teased, tilting his head with a playful smirk.
“Need you, please.” You begged as your pussy clenched around his thick cock rather hard which made him groan above you. “Please, I need you to fuck me so bad.”
His breath hitched as he exhaled shakily, before nodding quietly. Slowly, he started moving inside you, gentle but deep. One hand reached down to play with your clit, while the other one went to intertwine your fingers together, holding your hand tightly. 
The sting hurt for a while, but it easily morphed into a more pleasurable feeling as he moved against you. You’re so overstimulated from all your previous orgasms that the sensation he was giving you was mixed between pain and pleasure.
He grunted as he dropped his head to your ear to kiss and lick at the sensitive skin just below it. Soon enough the pain would completely disappear and all you could feel was pure bliss.
Slowly, you were getting used to his girth, anticipating it every time he pulled out of you before moving forward. Your legs are splayed open on either side of his hips as he ground his cock into you. The angle was so good, gradually he would pick up his pace, leaving you a whimpering mess underneath him. As he fucked into you in languid strokes, the sound of slick skin and your noises of pleasure could be heard in your bedroom.
“How do you feel?” he whispered against your ear.
“Feels so good.” You moaned as you tightened around his cock, this time voluntarily.
You whimpered as he picked up the pace, angling himself in a certain way inside you. He finally leaned down to wrap his arms around you, the action elicited a gasp out of you as you grab at the sheets around you, as he fucked you harder and faster.
Every time he’d thrust inside you, his pelvic bone would drag along your throbbing clit, making you cry out his name in pure ecstasy. 
“You’re taking me so well, sweet girl. Doing so so, good for me.” He whispered against your skin as he moved to nuzzle his face against your neck.
Soft grunts fell from Logan’s lips whenever he hit a specific deep spot inside you. You whimpered as his lips moved back up to your lips, enveloping them in a heated kiss. You melted completely against him, holding you close to him as he fucked you. He snaked one of his hands down between your conjoined bodies finding your clit as he rubbed two fingers over the sensitive nub.
At a certain point you felt him slide into a pressure point in your core and coupled with the way his fingers circled your clit, it had you clenching like a vise around his dick. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the pleasure he was providing you. The whimpers that fell from your lips became higher pitched as he picked up his pace.
“Feeling good, kitten?” He groaned, as his lips curled into a mischievous smile as he admired the way your face twisted in pure bliss. Too overwhelmed by the new experience. Filth and praise continued to come out of his mouth as he fucked you. “This pussy was made for daddy.”
His mouth covered your own instead as he swallowed all your little noises of pleasure, you could feel the tightness return in your belly, the tight coil that pulls tighter with every movement and every touch.
Your whimpers, gasps of pleasure and pants increased as ecstasy and warmth overwhelmed your senses.
“Taking daddy’s cock so well, baby.”
His hands couldn’t get enough of you, sliding around your hips and lower back, wanting to feel all of you, touch you everywhere. You whimpered at the feeling of his speed, feeling another orgasm coming so close, eyes tightly shut and legs locked bruisingly around Logan’s hips. He could feel it too, in the way you clenched and squeezed around his length, and he began to drive even harder into your pussy as he tilted his hips gently, searching for the one place that he hoped would blow your mind.
“Ah, daddy—” you hiccuped as he fucked you so good you felt like a blabbering mess. “Need you to come inside my pussy...”
“Is that what you want?” He growled as you pulsed around him. “Can’t believe it… it’s your first time and you’re already begging for me to cum inside. So filthy. You’re close aren’t ya?”
You nodded furiously as your arms trembled as they wrapped around him, your nails digging in his back as he moaned on top of you. The feeling of the coil tightening in your belly, was tingling down to your legs, ready to snap at any moment.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, cursing under his breath when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “Bet you’d look even prettier with my cum inside your pussy. All full and messy.”
“Please…” you moaned as you thought about him filling you up. “Please Lo, baby, daddy… please fill this pussy up.”
He grunted as he buried his face into your neck as he fucked into you, making the whole bed rattle at his force.
“You want to cum pretty girl?”
You nodded frantically at his words while your eyes fluttered close as you bit your lip harshly. You were bucking up beneath him, nails digging into his skin even more as his hand moved back to your clit as another came to intertwine your hands together, pinning them to the bed. He rubbed your clit with enough pressure to ensure you’ll cum around him.
“Cum for daddy.” Logan demands softly.
And when he finally nudged against that spot inside you coupled with his deep voice– you were exploding, shattering, and detonating all at once, as you cried out his name. Blood was rushing so wildly in your ears that you couldn’t possibly hear the way you wail and sob as he crashed his lips onto yours, swallowing all your noises. Your head lolled back, your back arching violently as you twist and contort in pleasure underneath him.
“That’s it, good girl.” Logan moaned in your ear as your walls spasmed and pulsed around his cock, begging him to cum inside, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pushing himself up as he thrust deeper into you, the head of his cock hitting your cervix repeatedly. “You want me to fill this pussy up? Make it all messy?”
You were still in a daze but you were able to understand him so you nod vigorously at his words, whining even more at the sensitivity. Your pussy squeezed around his cock in anticipation. “Please…”
“Fuck, take it baby.” It washed over him instantly, hips stuttering into you as he grew desperate, eyes squeezing shut when he felt his cock throb inside of you before hot spurts of his seed splashed along your walls, painting them in ribbons of white. The warmth of his seed filled you up and spread inside your pussy. The feeling made you whimper, limbs limp on the bed as he shallowly thrust into you, making sure you took every last drop. 
His warm cum filled you up deeply, the mild heat of it settling deep inside you and causing you to squirm under him. Logan panted as he let his body slump against yours. He rested on top of you, trying to steady his breath. His cock was still nuzzled deep within you, still half hard as it kept his cum from leaking out.
It was a blurry haze when you came back to your senses, your whole body was aching whilst simultaneously feeling the most relaxed you've ever been, equally as exhausted as it was energised, and you didn’t bother trying to question why. Just pure contentment.
Once both of you caught your breaths, Logan leaned his forehead against yours before kissing you tenderly.
“That was…” He breathed, smiling tiredly at the complete dopey mess he's made of you; hair all over the place and eyes lidded heavily, heated skin glowing and your lips looking swollen from all the kisses you’ve both shared.
“Oh yeah, that was mind blowing.” Your voice came out hoarse, still recovering from the height and volume it had gone, and you cleared your throat gently before you smiled up at him.
“I love you.” He whispered before he captured your lips in a deep and lazy kiss. You could feel his soft mouth smiling against yours as you whimpered against him. You felt yourself melting against his embrace as he wrapped his arms around you.
“I love you too.” You whispered back against his mouth. 
You shifted slightly when you felt that he was still hard inside you. Biting your lip, you squeezed purposely around him at the realisation. Logan groaned at the feeling, his large palms sliding up your sides in a soothing manner. 
“Don’t do that.” Logan grumbled but you saw a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Why not?” You giggled as your hands trailed through his hair.
“Makes me wanna fuck you again.” Your boyfriend mumbled.
“Hm, that’s kind of the point.” You continued to giggle.
Logan chuckled as he pulled his head back, looking at you with a mirthful smile.
Before you knew it, he pulled out only to man handle your body in the position he wanted you to be. Manoeuvres your body until you’re on your tummy. His hands came to hold your hips, pulling them up, your ass in the air for him.
He kneads the flesh of your cheeks before spreading them apart for him. Your body slumps slightly forward with exhaustion but Logan is quick to grip your hips, holding you in the same position. “Oh kitten, I’m not done with you yet.” He tutted. 
Your cheeks flushed with heat as you prepared yourself for a long night filled with passion.
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thank you for reading 🩷🩷🩷
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braxiatel · 7 months
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Thinking about Grian from a shippy point of view, I think it’s really easy to misunderstand his character.
The thing is that when Grian likes someone he Likes them. Capital L.
Mumbo, Scar, BigB, etc. When he falls he falls hard and he becomes obsessed with the objects of his affection.
And here is where a lot of people get him wrong (and to be clear I’m thinking about this because I am trying to improve my characterisation of him and can see places where I’ve made this exact mistake in the past). The thing is, Grian is self aware and he is trying sooooooooooo so hard to appear Normal about the object(s) of his affection. At all times he is - if not physically then mentally - doodling his name next to his crush’s name surrounded by hearts, but he can’t have them knowing that. He would walk into hell for them but he Will complain about it the whole way. He will wither away without their attention, but will go no further than to coincidentally happen to do so in the place they are most likely to find him.
And that, I believe, is the crux of why getting his character right is difficult. He cares so deeply, leading some people to think that he is all lovey-dovey and not at all guarded with his emotions, but at the same time he is trying (albeit badly at times) to hide his affection, leading another camp of people to take him at face value and think he doesn’t care.
I don’t have much of a point other than how interesting it is, and perhaps a hope of seeing it featured more in fanon
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princessofmarvel · 1 year
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Business and dates
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summary | when grace leaves, it leaves the shelbys with a heartbroken thomas. polly takes this as an opportunity to get him with the girl she's always wanted him with
pairing | thomas shelby x fem!reader
word count | 2.30k
genre | fluff! with just a tad of angst! 
requested? | yes! thank you so much for your request! i had so much writing it, and i am kind of proud of this one, lol.
warnings! | mentions of bullying, and the reader not eating from being worried! and, i have not proof read this yet!
author’s note! | Hi! Thank you all for being so patient as I worked on this! Requests are open for drabbles, and headcanons only at the moment for these characters! And as always, I do I have really bad OCD that causes me to write in some random capitalization, and punctuation, But I think that we don't have to worry about that in this fic lol. And let me know if there are any mistakes, but please be kind!
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No one knew what had happened that day. All anyone knew was that Grace was suddenly gone, and that she had left the Shelby family with a heartbroken Thomas. And the person left to pick up the pieces was his lifelong best friend, who has been in love with Thomas since the day they met back when they were just small kids. 
Thomas was having a decent day, school had just let out and he was walking back home (alone because his older brother Aurther thought that it would be funny to run off before Thomas got out of class) when he saw a young girl getting picked on. 
“Stop it! This is my favorite skirt!” Thomas heard her yell to the kids that had her on the ground, kicking dirt onto her clothes while laughing and taunting her. Thomas knew that these kids were practically afraid of him, so he knew he could get them to leave the girl alone.  He also knew that his mother would scold him if she found out that he didn’t do anything to help her. 
“Oi! Leave her alone, or I'll put a curse on you!” Thomas called out as he made his way up to the group, and pulled a razor blade out of his pocket. The kids practically scattered the moment they heard Thomas’ voice. Leaving just him, and the girl with dirt on her clothes. 
“Thank you” He heard the girl say in a quiet voice as he put his hand out to help her back up. 
“What caused that?” He asked, curious as to what the girl could have done to anger the other kids so much. 
“I-I told them that I wouldn’t do their homework.” She said back to him, as she tried to get the dirt off of her skirt.  Thomas told himself that he should have known it was something like that. There wasn’t anything serious that this girl could have done to upset them so much. 
“Come on, I’ll walk you home, you live on Watery lane, right?” He said as he started walking, with the girl running a bit to catch up with him. He knew her name, he recognized her from school. She lived right across from him, but they never said anything to each other. She had been over to play with Ada sometimes, but they never spoke. 
Neither one of them said anything as they walked, it wasn’t until they got to her home that Thomas spoke up. 
“They shouldn’t bother you again, no one should.” He said as he stood outside her doorstep, seeming almost sorry since he knew his reputation, and how kids would stay away from him in fear of getting cursed. 
“It’s alright, I don’t really have any friends anyways.” The small girl said, while rocking back and forth on her heels. 
“Why don’t you come play at my house? I know my family won’t mind.” He said to her with a small smile. Truth be told, Thomas didn’t really have many friends either, and he saw an opportunity to make one. 
Ever since then, the two were inseparable. They did everything together, they were even each other's first kiss. Her family was weary at first, but soon saw how protective the Shelby boys (and the rest of the Shelby family) were over her, and grew to like them. The two were like this up until Thomas was called to war
“Tommy, this has to be a mistake.” The girl cried into Thomas’ shoulder as he held her. “All three of you at the same time? What kind of cruel joke is this” 
“The universe has a funny way of doing things.” He mumbled into her hair, his hand resting on the back of her head. “I’ll come back, sweetheart.” 
“You don’t know that, Tommy” The girl said as she pulled her head out of his shoulder, and looked up at him, eyes red and puffy. 
“You really think I'm leaving you yet? You think I'm going to leave you before you get married? Please, your future husband doesn’t get off that easily.” He said with a small laugh while trying to lighten the mood as he held her face with his hand. “Nothings taking me from you, not yet.” 
“You better come back, Shelby.” She said as she looked up at him with glossy eyes. “Or, I’ll bring you back just to kill you myself.” 
Thomas laughed and kissed her head, as the air in the room changed. He didn’t know why, but he leaned down and kissed her lips softly, all he knew was that he couldn’t leave without giving her a kiss, even just a light one. “You’ve got nothing to worry about” He said as he pulled away. 
She believed him, she tried not to worry. She didn’t worry until his letters stopped coming. After a month of not hearing from him she worried so much she got sick. She wrote him everyday, sent him a letter at least once a week, if not twice. No word of his death ever came. 
The day Thomas arrived home, she was sitting at the kitchen table with Polly. His heart broke when he saw her, she was paler, and her face was skinny, all signs to her not eating properly. Neither one of them said a word to each other for a week. It wasn’t until (Y/n) decided that she had enough, and stormed into his room. 
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” she shouted, growing red in the face. 
“What are you talking about?” He asked, not meeting her eyes, already knowing what she was talking about,
“You! You come back, and are completely different! You’re cold, and mean to everyone, which maybe you were that way to some people before, but never to me! Never to your family!” As she yelled at him, she started to sway as if she was about to faint. Before she could hit the floor, Thomas grabbed her and set her down on the bed beside him. 
“You need to eat something.” He mumbled, not looking at her which infuriated her more. 
“I thought you were dead.” This caught his attention as he heard her start to cry. He finally turned to her. “You stopped writing.” 
“I didn’t know how to write to you, you would ask me how I was, and I couldn’t find it in myself to tell you about how I had just watched a man die. I thought it better to not write.” He said, pulling her into his chest. “Why are you not eating?” 
“You worried me, anything I ate just came back up.” She mumbled into his chest. 
“I told you not to worry.” He said with a small laugh coming from his chest, the first in a long time. 
“Tough shit, Shelby.” She mumbled back, while pulling her head out of his chest. 
They sat in silence for a few minutes, just staring at the other, until Thomas finally spoke up. “I’m trying to get back to normal.” He mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear, she wouldn’t have if they hadn’t been so close. 
“I know, it will just take some time.” She said while she caressed his cheek. “And, I’ll be here to help you heal.” 
After that day, nothing ever really went back to how it was before the war. But it was like that for everyone. Thomas had gone back to normal as much as he could. He had his moments, but everyone did. And, (Y/n) didn’t lie, she was there every step of the way, even in the bad times she never left. 
The two never fought again until the day Grace left. She had tried telling Thomas before that something was up with her, but he just wouldn’t listen. The only other person that seemed to notice it was Polly. 
“He’ll never go for it.” John pipped into the conversation. Polly was currently trying to figure out a way to cheer Thomas up, and the idea she had was to put Thomas with (Y/n). She already considered the girl a daughter, and she always wanted her with Thomas. To her, it was the perfect plan. 
“That's why we don’t tell him! All we tell him is that he has a business meeting at the new restaurant, he’ll show up, expecting some business man to be there, but instead (Y/n) will come in wearing the most beautiful thing I can find, that he’ll just have to stay.” Polly explained to the boys and Ada. 
“Alright, but how are you going to get (Y/n) there, dressed up, without suspecting anything?” Ada chimed in. 
“We’ll tell her a boy stopped by and asked to take her out.” Polly said, as if it was obvious. 
“Please, she’s not going to just agree to go out with someone, especially if she doesn’t even know who it is.” Arthur muttered. 
"Actually she might.” John announced to everyone. “Just to make Thomas jealous, she mentioned it back when Grace was around.” 
The Shelby’s set everything into motion that night. Polly told Thomas he had a meeting, then she told (Y/n) about the secret man that wanted to take her out. 
So Thomas sat in his suit, waiting for this man to show, when he saw (Y/n) walk through the door, dressed like a vision in her red, drop waist, beaded dress, with an old pearl necklace to match. She looked around the room, until her eyes landed on Thomas. 
“What are you doing here?” She asked him, as she walked up to his table.
“Business meeting, what are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly growing jealous at the thought of her being here for another man. 
“A date, and what business meeting? I know your schedule, there wasn’t one planned, did you make one?” She asked, wondering who on earth Thomas could be meeting for business at this hour. 
“No, Polly told me I had one, who’s the date?” He asked, his jealousy rising. 
“Not sure, Polly told me-” A look of realization crossed both their faces “Polly” The two said in unison. 
She decided to sit down, now laughing to herself. “You’re the date.”
“You’re the business.” Thomas responded, a small smile growing to his face. 
The two sat there for a minute, before Thomas spoke up. “You do look stunning.” 
“Polly picked it.” She said, with a small laugh.
“I bet she did.” Thomas said with a laugh, and a sigh. “She’s wanted us together for ages.” He mumbled. 
“And what do you want?” The girl asked. Thomas had always had a feeling that (Y/n) liked him, he was just never sure how much, until he looked up and met her eyes that were filled with nothing but love and want.
“You in my life.” He said, keeping his eyes on her. “I thought a relationship between us would mess everything up. I couldn’t risk losing you.” 
“Thomas.” The girl said, grabbing his hand across the table. “You could never lose me, even if we did have a relationship and it failed, I would still love you. But, I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this.” 
“I have distracted myself from you for as long as I can remember. I wouldn’t let myself fall for you.” Thomas said, standing up from the table, (Y/n) following. 
“It’s okay to fall, Thomas, who knows, maybe it won’t hurt.” She said, as she placed a hand to his face. Without thinking, Thomas leaned in and kissed her with everything in him, causing her to hit the table, his hands on the side of her face being the only thing to keep them from falling. The pair kissed until they needed air. When they pulled away, he rested his forehead on hers. 
“Let’s give this a try.” He whispered, looking into her eyes. 
The girl smiled and gave Thomas a quick peck, before they left the restaurant, her holding his arm. The walk back to the Shelby home was mostly quiet, until she spoke up. “Thank god for Polly.” 
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ironskyfinder · 7 months
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Pink Mindset III
Since it was such a success, let’s keep adding more pink - until it’s the only way you think.
Some girls want to know how they can help pink make them better. The first piece of advice is to give in to it! Turn off spellcheck and don’t correct any mistakes you make, use hearts and emojis more often, refer to yourself in the third person, smile and giggle when you don’t understand what’s going on. 
Another piece of advice is to use your girlwords in everyday conversations. Now, obviously words like edge, rub, and hump have mostly come up around your besties; but words like uhhhh, like, and dunno are also great! Using them in everyday conversation helps fill in the gaps when you’re confused, when you can’t think of a word, or just when you’ve got pink on the brain.
For girls looking to really let the pink take over, there’s a little more to do, but that’s okay! Before you know it, you’ll get into a routine that’ll get you the pinkest mind possible! A way to start doing that is to forget trying to use big and complex words - no writing out numbers, no words with 10 or more letters, and no more than 3 syllables (that’s how many times your mouth moves when you say a word)! Instead, use simple words that are small and easy to use, and use your girlwords whenever possible; you might have to stop and try to think through your sentences before you talk, but that just makes you seem dumber! 
Some girls trying to get the pinkest mind they can go even further; they won’t use capital letters about anything other than Men, because typing in small letters are so much easier for small brains and because they’re really all just objects anyway. Those girls are the kind of bimbo that replace the word ‘okay’ with okie dokie because it sounds even dumber, the kind that say uh-huh instead of ‘yes’ and uh-uh for ‘no’. Replacing ‘definitely’ with def, ‘very’ with supes, ‘totally’ with totes, are easy ways to make it clear to everyone you talk to that all you have in your head is pink.
And really, the best piece of advice? Keep a little diary with you in your purse or clutch, and every time you have a really good pink moment, make a little tally mark. Make a tally each time you forget something big, whenever you catch someone staring at you showing off your body, for everyone that has to dumb down a concept to explain it to you.
Try to beat your record every day, and be more pink in every way.
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l-uminescent · 2 months
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˚⁀➷。˚GOD OF OLD VALYRIA ━━━ DAERON TARGARYEN X FEM! READER
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synopsis: cregan stark's sister (reader) is sent to king's landing in order to find a suitable marriage arrangement. after a year however, you start to lose hope at finding a betrothed. that is, until the king announces the arrival of his youngest son daeron targaryen.
notes: hello! i have yet to see many daeron one shots or fics so i’ve decided to try. and as usual, i have aged him up to about 19/20. requests are also welcome bc i’m running out of ideas 😭
warnings: don’t think there is any apart from my rusty writing bc i have not written anything in years and most likely some spelling mistakes
word count: 1.8k
BEING CREGAN STARK'S YOUNGER SISTER PROVED ITSELF TO BE BOTH A BLESSING AND A CURSE. with the death of his wife arra, and being left with a son to raise by himself cregan struggled to find the time to find a suitable suitor to have as your lord husband as you came of age. the result of this, meant you being sent off to king's landing in hopes that the queen  consort, could provide help with finding you a husband. it's not like you minded being sent off to the capital, you were keen to explore the south after having lived in the north for the entirety of your life. but after being in the red keep for almost a year, you were becoming less and less confident at the queen's promise to your brother that she would find you a betrothed.
however, that was all soon to change with the arrival of daeron targaryen from oldtown.
it was his elder brother aemond, who informed you of daeron's arrival from oldtown after having been sent away years ago to squire for the hightower family. despite aemond's  intimidating aura and the obvious anger he holds within, you two often found solace with each other in the library as it appeared neither of you had many friends around the castle. tucked away, reading books on the history of the north, and that of the previous targaryen kings and queens, aemond often sat near, as he too enjoyed your presence as much you he.
today, he explained that there was to be a feast held in the throne room, at daeron's arrival as he had not been in the red keep for quite some time. your presence was to be required at the feast for some reason unbeknownst to you (but not to aemond's, who was aware of his mother's plotting).
rushing back to your chambers after waving your friend goodbye and thanking him for the information he told, your stomach began to knot as the feeling of nervousness took hold. you had heard stories of the youngest targaryen, of his beauty, how his silver hair fell shorter than his brothers, barely covering his eyes. you often heard gossip that the price frequently made the girls of the realm swoon if they were to ever encounter the boy in oldtown. if the rumours that circled around the red keep were to be believed, than it was also said that daeron targaryen was the most popular of the king and queen's sons. as well as his beauty, you had heard that he was an outspoken and witty boy, a skilled swordsman and returned the kindness that was given to him.
brushing away these thoughts, you began to wash  and paint you face with many creams and serums, until doting yourself as presentable to the targaryen family. you called on a maid to help you with your hair and dress. no matter the time you spent in the south, you were never one to forget your northern roots which often reflected in the clothes you wore and the hairstyle that adorned your head. black dire wolves, were subtly sewn onto your grey dress, a direct nod at your stark lineage, showing how proud you were of it and your hair was twisted and braided until it reflected that of what you so commonly wore in winterfell.
as the maid finished helping you ready, the nervous feeling once again made home in the pit of your stomach. deciding it was time to make your  way to the feast, your hands found themselves fidgeting with the rings on your fingers that were lovingly gifted to you by your mother father and brother, (family heirlooms that once again showed your pride of the north) in an attempt to calm your anxiety.
you still could not fathom where this sudden wave of nervousness came from. you had met the other two targaryen boys, even the three velayrons that had moved away to dragonstone a mere week after your arrival,  and this skittish demeanour was nowhere to be found back then.
taking a deep shaky breath and swallowing, willing your hands to stop fidgeting you walked through the doors to where the feast was to be held, making a beeline straight to where you usually sat. ignoring the piercing glare of a pair of indigo eyes that you were unused to, you bowed to the king and queen before taking your seat, still refusing to meet  the eyes that looked upon you intently.
"it is my greatest pleasure to announce the return of my youngest son daeron" king viserys announced. even in his sickly state the pride he had for his youngest son was not mistaken, making it painstakingly obvious who the favourite child was (second to rhaeynra of course.)
as he continued, you could not help but notice the soft look alicent had gave you. you had heard the rumours of how unkind the woman was before your arrival yet, she did everything in her power to make you feel comfortable during your stay. almost as if this was her second shot at motherhood.
you did not need to wonder for long what she had meant by the look this time before viserys continued his speech. "and to announce his betrothal to the lady of house stark."
at that moment you did not care if the shock in your face was evident  as your mind raced at a hundred miles an hour at the news. feeling your heart pump faster, a bright crimson appear on your cheeks as the entire table had turned to look at you. the  embarrassment at the attention you faced had soon turned to rage at the thought of your brother cregan not warning you of the news to have allowed yourself to mentally prepare. you cursed your brother for that. yet it soon faded and was once again replaced with anxiety as you remembered the boy beside you was the man you were now betrothed to.
you could not help the thought of this being failing marriage, one that was doomed from the start. your northern customs differed heavily from that of the royals in the south and you were afraid that it would offend your betrothed. you barely knew the man, there was no telling that he was as kind as you had heard, for all you knew one simple argument and he could feed you to his beloved dragon tessarion.
willing yourself to calm down, you took a shaky breathe before twisting your head to the side, finally allowing yourself to look at the boy that had been the cause for your nerves the past few hours. you had to hand it to the gossips of the court, the boy was handsome. with a sharp jawline and piercing indigo eyes staring into your plain ones you felt your face heat as his eyes continued to hold yours. taking in his features you noted that his hair, fell perfectly to his eyebrows, and a small scar ran down the left side of his lip. he was absolutely mesmerising. you had always been skeptical at the idea of targaryen's being closer to gods than men, but in that moment you believed.
daeron targaryen looked as if he was a god from old, straight from valyria.
you found the knot in your stomach grow and tension find it's home in your shoulders at this revelation as you struggled for words to say to your betrothed,  feeling unworthy in the presence of true targaryen beauty. your belief of the old gods wavering in favour of the valyrian ones, every time your eyes caught his.
you only prayed he was as kind as he was good looking.
━━━━━━━━━━ *ੈ✩‧₊˚ ━━━━━━━━━
"mother, i will accompany lady stark back to her room." it wasn't until the meal had ended when you had heard his voice for the first time. if you weren't nervous before than by the  gods you were now. with your heart rate elevated your fingers found the rings adorning your hands again, fiddling with them as you stood to be guided back to your chambers by the youngest prince. his voice perfectly matching the god like features of his face, melting like honey as every syllable reached you ear. you were truly enamoured with the targaryen boy.
with a bow to both the king and queen you and daeron had left, an awkward silence following as the words you wanted to say dying on your tongue every time you glanced out the corner of your eye at him. once again, blood rushed to your cheeks as the boy turned to you. "you don't have to be scared of me you know, my lady." he smirked. by the love of the gods, you prayed the answer that left your mouth did not make the embarrassment you felt worsen.
"i believe i have a right to my fear, my prince, seeing as your dragon lays only a hill away from where we stand."
at this, daeron let out a laugh, wondering where the shyness from the feast had gone. "well my lady, tessarion isn't as scary as she seems. maybe one day we shall go out riding."
"i would like that indeed my prince." you returned, smiling at the thought of him allowing you to meet his most precious creature. you had always wondered what a dragon had looked like up close, let alone to ride. the mere suggestion of it showed that maybe this marriage wasn't doomed after all. "well here is my chambers. thank you for walking me back."
the two of you turned to face each other now, allowing you to take in the entirety of his face. and by gods you were even more starstruck than before. in the torch lit corridor of the red keep, he seemed even prettier — truly a god of old valyria.
"goodnight my lady." daeron breathed out, seemingly as entranced as you were with him. the piercing indigo roaming about your entire face as he believed you would disappear if he even for a moment looks away. he had encountered many beautiful strangers in his time at oldtown, had read many history books that described creatures as beautiful as gods and angels. yet no matter how many detailed accounts he had read of valyria, how enchanting those who had lived before the doom were, and how he had inherited this fairness from his ancestors , in that moment he swore he had never met anyone as more beautiful as you. how you took pride in where you came from with the northern rings and stitching on your dress. how your hair was held with clips that were clearly heirlooms of the stark family. he was in awe.
"goodnight my prince." you whispered, pressing a small tender kiss to the side of his porcelain skin before turning to your chambers.
to daeron targaryen, you too were a god of old valyria
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lucysarah-c · 1 month
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Levi's horrible flirting skills part 8.
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Masterlist link to all the previous parts.
“So... King’s anniversary’s coronation. Are you coming?” Erwin casually dropped the question without a clear addressee, or at least in Levi’s opinion, as he played with a pen while waiting for the early morning meeting to end. He had only slept a very counted number of hours. 
But as the silence reigned, it made him raise his attention, fearing that the question was directed at him. And indeed, it was. Erwin was looking at him. 
“Are you coming?” Erwin insisted. “I don’t think I’ve to remind you how important this event is.” 
Escaping the intense blue eyes, Levi pretended to be interested in anything else inside the room. “I... I’m rather busy. I’ve got a lot of delayed paperwork I should work on over the weekend.” 
The commander looked exhausted as he stared back at him, the invitation slowly dropping onto the table. “I’m sure your boss, me, wouldn’t mind you presenting your work a couple of days later.” 
“You don’t know my boss.” 
Erwin sighed loudly and put away the letter with the invitation. “You know, very influential and powerful people attend these events. It would be great for the Scouts’ economy if you could go and land us some donations.” 
He passed his plus-one invitation to Hange so they could try to get some donations for their titan investigations. Levi fought the urge to roll his eyes as Erwin’s speech was so frequent and repeated, like a mother angry at returning home to find the dishes not cleaned. 
“You know that me and influential filthy pigs don’t get along.” 
“Hey, I’ve been part of the Scouts longer, and he gets his own invitation while I get a plus-one?” The brunette complained. 
“’Cause you’re not Humanity’s strongest?” Levi asked back with a raised eyebrow. “If you want it, I’ll gladly give you that stupid invitation.” 
“Ugh, since that title landed you a date with that nurse of yours, you’ve gotten cocky about it,” Hange pointed out playfully, intending to get on Levi’s last nerve. 
Erwin chuckled as Levi squinted his eyes. “She didn’t go out with me because of it.” 
“Not even you believe that,” unlikely of him, Erwin joined in on the joke, making Levi roll his eyes and frown deeply. 
“You two are just so fucking jealous. When was the last time any of your titles or medals got you a chick?” 
The other two’s silence spoke volumes as they searched for a proper comeback. 
He began to notice the small changes, like when they met again in a hallway. She greeted him first over Erwin and, very important detail, she still called him “captain,” but Levi swore it had an underlying sexy accent to it... or at least that’s what he liked to believe. 
The first rule in the animal world is to land her interest; the second one? Maintain it. That means marking territory. This time subtly, he was not committing the same mistake twice. 
How many hours was Levi sleeping to manage getting his paperwork done, his work as a captain, and trying to pay her as many visits as he could when he was over at the Capital for meetings? None, but at least he made sure a good couple of the MPs, who also walked around the hospital trying to land a nurse girlfriend, would think twice before approaching her. 
“You want scones? It was my day for buying supplies for the staff room,” she commented while moving around, preparing tea. Levi was there doing paperwork he brought with him. Balancing both of their schedules wasn’t particularly easy, and perhaps that’s why their second date was just going to be a little after-work dinner. 
‘Maybe... it’s my moment to casually imply that I don’t have a sweet tooth.’ 
“I don’t like sweet stuff, actually.” 
‘...great, just great.’ 
The confusion was all over her face as she turned around. “Oh...” she softly frowned as she gave it a deeper thought, “...but I gifted you a cake.” 
“Yeah.” 
Lips pressed together as she stared at him. “You could just tell me.” 
‘Yeah well, the time I tried to just tell ya, you got angry at me for a good fucking time, so perhaps it wasn’t the best idea.’ 
How many times had he seen the same picture he had right in front of him, only separated by a couple of steps? Eyes rolling and clicking his tongue, finding it so idiotic that it was even annoying. The only sort of speech he could come up with for his own defense was that “he wasn’t in service,” and usually they were. 
Yes, they. Military police members walking around downtown without the jackets of the uniform on, but instead, the green unicorn swinging as any of their girls walked around with them on their shoulders. 
There she was, the wings of freedom adorning her back. The sleeves weren’t on, just the shoulder pads casually resting on hers, preventing it from falling but not secured enough. ‘It’s like too cold... but too warm for my coat,’ she had mentioned as they exited the building, doing honor to the season where taking the winter coat early in the morning is a good idea but, by afternoon, it hangs on your arm. 
“Here,” he had said, and before he knew it, he was seeing her walking slightly ahead of him with the jackets contrasting against her doveish uniform. 
Marking territory, isn’t it all about that? Especially at the Capital, where all the MPs are looking at them as if they were the most absurd of all couples or perhaps it’s just plain jealousy. 
“You’re going to love them! The food is so good, and the portions are huge,” she commented behind him as she guided him through streets it was rather obvious she knew better than him. As the sky turned coral, with days getting longer, the golden hour only helped highlight how cute he found her like that. 
‘I’ve become what I swore to destroy...’ 
“I’m asking for a small one because if I eat too much, I am gonna fall asleep, and today I’ve got night service,” she commented, looking at the options at the street stand. 
‘Thank god her suggestion wasn’t some stupidly fancy shop at Mitras that would force me to eat plain rice for the rest of the month.’ 
“You work tonight?” he commented back as he decided what to eat. 
“Yes, there are a lot of mothers who reported feeling contractions. I may be working all night,” she replied before pointing, “If you like spicy, those sauces are great.” 
He handed the money to the owner as he received both options and passed hers forward with his left hand. 
“Thank you~” she sang, smiling back at him. 
“You’re welcome,” he muttered as he put away the change back in his wallet. 
‘Havin’ a girlfriend is expensive.’ 
He felt the tug from his arm as she gripped his hand and began to guide him. “Come on, I know a good spot at the park,” she said enthusiastically as she hand-hold dragged him. 
Her hand felt stupidly soft against his, he thought, and delicate as if the absurd feeling of breaking it crossed his mind. 
‘...but 100% worth it.’ 
He let her drag him, mostly because she could hardly even dream of moving him if he refused, but if she wished to get him somewhere, he would just let her have it. 
‘I’ve to give it to them... the Capital is full of classist snob jerks, but the places are fucking nice,’ he thought, recalling how the downtown closer to the Scouts’ facility at  
Wall Rose always smelled like horse dung, the little poor town always looked a bit grey, and there wasn’t much to do there. In contrast, the huge park with well-kept green grass, flowers, kids with expensive uniforms, statues, and decorated benches like the one they were sitting on marked a difference, especially since that place received the early spring sun directly. 
‘There go my taxes.’ 
“MH-” she hummed, passing down a bite from her meal, “You want to taste mine?” 
Pushing her option in his direction for him to take a bite, Levi checked their surroundings and felt the shame of perhaps someone seeing him doing that, but he soon began to suspect that keeping a relationship would require him to start doing a lot of embarrassing stuff. He took one bite and hummed in agreement. 
Swallowing, he said with his usual monotone voice, “Wanna taste mine?” 
As she bent forward to take a bite, Levi forced himself to look away as perhaps there were too many kids around to even think it. 
‘Why when she offers it, it’s cute, and when I do it, I sound like a fucking pervert?’ 
“Mhhm, very good, I like yours. It’s more creamy!” 
‘...stop it, please.’ 
As they ate, he asked, “Do you like kids?” 
She turned around, confused, almost shocked. “Fuck—no. I didn’t mean it like that,” Levi quickly realized how odd that sounded. “I mean, the Midwife path is hard, so you must like kids a lot.” 
‘I mean if you want to reply to the other question, it’s also valid... I like kids very fucking much, let me know when you’re willing to start practicing,’ he thought. 
“Ah!” she exclaimed, understanding he referred to their previous conversation about her prospects of work tonight. “I became an orphan very young; both of my parents were very old when they decided to have me, so they passed away before I finished my studies. And midwifery is a very necessary but judged profession. Most of my coworkers can’t do it because their husbands or fathers think it’s inappropriate for a girl to be around strangers’ houses in the middle of the night.” 
“So... since I’ve nobody to tell me what I can or can’t do, I decided I should do it,” she replied to him. “This is a good time to tell you, I guess, that I’m not dropping my career.” 
Levi shook his head. “I don’t mind it.” 
“That’s why I went to Erwin’s office the other time,” she commented, making Levi frown, recalling the scene. “He was helping me write a project to present to the higher ranks.” 
Her enthusiasm dropped slightly. “But... they didn’t accept it. I felt so bad.” 
“Ah, that was why you were all weeping when we returned from the expedition?” he dropped the detail, but mostly because the idea was still lingering in his head. 
One hand covered her mouth, and then she blushed. “Ah! You saw that?! So embarrassing,” she said, giving a subtle little hit on his arm playfully. “Why didn’t those morons accept it?” 
She shrugged with a soft sigh. “They said something about the government resources not being enough for that proposal.” 
“Tch, they have money for their stupid events but not for this? What did you propose?” 
“Ugh... mh.hmp,” she seemed reluctant to reply and hummed incoherently. “I... don’t want to offend you.” 
Levi frowned deeply but raised a single eyebrow as a silent question. 
“It was about doing campaigns of pre-natal check-ups on the underground pregnant women. Sometimes they have difficult pregnancies, and the lucky ones are dragged up here if they have some connections when the situation is already unsalvageable. The pre-natal non-permanent posts are all around the walls except there... but, well, I told you their resolution,” she scratched the side of her neck nervously as she explained.  
“Probably because we will have to bring security to go, and MPs do not want to participate.” 
“Why would that offend me?” Levi spat out the question as her nervousness appeared ridiculous. 
“Oh well... I thought that perhaps it’s a sensitive topic for you, and I didn’t want to ruin the mood.” 
“I’m not that soft,” Levi replied quietly, but he felt completely different. He knew she was kind-hearted, but it warmed him that, despite the idea not reaching far, at least there were people trying to change something. “You should keep trying until those assholes listen to you.” 
She hummed positively. “You could try to change their minds,” she suggested between chuckles. 
Levi scoffed. “Talk to Erwin; he’s the one who doesn’t allow me to beat their asses.” 
‘Everything is going so well... it’s suspicious.’ 
“Oh! Careful!” she said, catching his attention before she ran her finger through his chin and then sucked it clean. “You’re going to dirty your shirt’s neck.” 
‘... just let me fuck you already, I’m on my knees.’ 
“I was thinking...” she started, turning around to look at him, doll eyes and a cheeky smile. “Maybe we could hang out this upcoming weekend. The celebrations for the king’s coronation will be ongoing all night all around the walls. I thought that maybe we could stroll around too.” 
Levi was already sweating cold; she was taking the initiative, inviting him out... there was only one issue. 
“Wouldn’t it be nice?” 
“Ehm—” 
‘Think of an excuse, you asshole.’ 
“I... I actually have to stay at my place that weekend,” he said, but his last words were quickly followed by a soft pout, puppy eyes, and a subtle “Ow,” from her. Levi wasn’t usually a person to give excuses or unnecessarily explain himself. 
‘Oh shit, it’s not that I don’t want to—it’s just that—’ 
“I had this stupid invitation to the higher-ranks party whatsoever and—” 
‘And I’m kinda escaping my responsibility of attending that shitty party that’s why—oh... oh no,’ he thought. 
Her eyes began to shine, and the smile returned to her features. “Oh my god, you’re going to the official party?” 
‘No... no I wasn’t going—that’s the whole point,’ he thought. 
“I always wanted to go to one of those,” she said with a dreamy stare, her voice subtle and soft, almost begging but not quite. 
‘No, for fuck’s sake, don’t look at me like that.’ 
— 
“These are the preparations for the upcoming week, and I’ve already reviewed your paperwork, and they seem alright,” Erwin reorganized the piles of paper in front of him quickly for the other soldier. 
Slender fingers picked it up, returning to the door’s direction, yet the pace was rather odd, and the fingers tapped the new papers with uneasiness. Erwin didn’t pay it much mind as he returned to filling out the multiple letters he needed to get ready so they would be sent first thing the upcoming morning. Spreading dust over the black ink so it would dry quicker, his movements were controlled yet rushed. 
“So... I was wondering... do you still have that invitation?” 
Those words made the blond freeze up mid-movement. He slowly looked up at Levi, who was standing in the middle of his office. Each second that passed, announced by the clock, changed the Commander’s expression from confused to angry as his thick eyebrows drew together. 
Straightening up but not saying a word, his fingers intertwined. “Tell me, Levi... how many years have you worked with the scouts?” 
“Tch,” Levi switched his weight from one leg to the other, arms crossing on top of his chest. Levi rolled his eyes, annoyed, “What does that even matter? Five.” 
“Ah, yes, I see,” Erwin muttered as if he didn’t already know the answer. “And how many balls, parties, and official events have you been invited to?” 
The Captain had a feeling where this was going and only frowned deeply. “Many... all of them.” 
“Yes, that’s correct,” the blond confirmed slowly as if the information needed to sink in. “You see, I’m asking because it seems like I must be losing my memory... because I can’t recall a single damn time you went to any of those events without me having to coerce you into it.” 
“When I don’t go to those shitty events, it’s about me not supporting the scouts. When I decide to fucking go, it’s also an issue?” 
“No, no, no, no,” Erwin clicked his tongue repeatedly, “You didn’t decide to go... she wants to go, isn’t it?” 
Silence. Reigning silence. 
“Are you making me a jealousy scene?” Levi raised an eyebrow, confused. 
“No, I just can’t believe that as your boss and friend, I’ve begged you all this time to go to those events, and you’re going because a girl—my friend—asked you to. You’re so henpecked it should give you secondhand embarrassment.” 
“Fine! Yes, yes, I’m doing it for her. Happy?” Levi replied, offended. “In a week and a half, we’re leaving for an expedition, and I’ve not even seen a shitty ankle! Fucking excuse me for trying to get laid before I risk my life out there with one of your suicidal plans! Maybe I should get out of here and ask Mike what type of stupid bullshit you did to get Marie’s attention.” 
The battle of stares was over when, reluctantly, Erwin pulled out the invitation from his drawer and handed it over, “Here, thank you for reconsidering it.” 
“You’re welcome... I’m in favor of the plans for the upcoming expedition, by the way,” Levi walked back to the desk to pick up the letter and replied as he took the piece of paper with him. 
“Glad to hear.” 
And the two of them carried on with their responsibilities as if neither of them had ever mentioned anything. 
Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @flxrartsstuff @feelingsandemotionsnotexplored @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @katharinasdiaryy @ackermanswifee @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @searriously @blackdxggr @storiesofsung @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-angel @galactict3a @lemonsupernova @hyuckwon-my-husbands @heyitsd1yaa @sydneyyuu @love-for-faeries-go-burrrr @mandaax @sugacor3 @r0ckst4rjk @vegetasgirl2799 @catiwinky @pinksaiyans @sparklykeylime Wanna join my tag list? Here!
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stxrvel · 3 months
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the one where i said fuck you and you cried (3)
series summary. the holy grail of the seven men who ruled the country's entertainment used to be your friends at school. now, ten years later and between successes and failures, what reason would they have to want to come back into your life? pairing. eventually ot7 x f!reader. content. first of all, english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes! a lot of curse words, a lot of self-deprecation and low self esteem. no proofread. this is nawt silly writing, we're diving right into the aNgSt. jumpscare? iykyk a/n. hi guys! this was a rollercoaster for me to write, but i hope it doesn't come as harsh as i think it is. pls let me know what you think in the comments!! see you next week!!
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You had gone through a scenario like that in your head several times. A variety of moments, conversations and looks that always ended in the same unpleasant, inevitable and demoralizing way: you were forgotten by the people you loved most in the world. Only when you reached 18 would you realize how heartbreaking the dull thud of the silence of indifference was, how sharp and icy the loneliness was, how it penetrated and paralyzed your bones; but at that time, at 16, you could still convince yourself that all those things were only in your head and would always be there.
“Now that you're the last to go, you guys are much more likely to forget about me.”
“Of course not! In fact, as soon as I start earning money I'll save up to take you with us.”
Jungkook shook his head, his narrowed eyes judging you as if having insecurities was a sin. You believed his words at that moment, because being the last one still with you, 'cause you were going to graduate from school in the same year, it was the only thing you could do. Hold on to the idea that you really weren't going to be forgotten, because the mere conception of a future without your best friends was inconceivable.
“Jimin-hyung said he was going to try to call more often,” your friend went on, his eyes fixed on the bass on his lap and his important task of leaving it neat before returning it to its holy post in the school's music room. “I haven't talked to them in about three days.”
Jimin and Taehyung had left just a couple of months ago, but thanks to the opportunities opened to them with their incredible willingness, discipline and some string twitching on Namjoon's part, they had managed to get into a great academy to train and fulfill their dreams.
That also brought with it, as irreversible side effects, that your communication with them was drastically reduced. You had to constantly remind yourself and Jungkook that it was out of their control. With their future at stake, there was something for which they had to exert extreme effort and for which to sacrifice some other things.
“It's normal that they don't have as much time as they used to, Kookie.” You lowered your head, noticing the way his hands delicately handled the instrument on his legs. Since Jimin and Taehyung had left there was no time of day when you could tear yourself away from Jungkook, which is why you accompanied him to his extracurricular music lessons when you really should have been studying for the college entrance exam. “Life after school gets really hectic.”
“I've heard that college life is quieter.” Jungkook twisted his lips, wiping between the strings and his fingerprints left on the bass every time he moved it back and forth to clean it. It was an almost irresistible cycle.
“The only one at college right now is Seokjin and even about him we haven't heard much.” You leaned back against the piano, noticing Jungkook's movements pause for a moment as he surely reminisced about the few times he had been able to talk to Jin that month.
It had been two years since Seokjin had graduated and traveled all the way to the capital to study medicine. Needless to say, it was more than clear that communication with Jin would be almost nil from then on, but Jungkook always used to pout about it.
“It's just that Jin-hyung also chose a rather demanding career.” Jungkook twisted his lips, as if suppressing Jin in his head, waving the microfiber towel over the edges of the bass.
“And the others are trying too hard to carve their way through. It can be as complicated as going out to look for a job right after graduating.”
Jungkook nodded, admiring his cleaning job with a frown. He looked so focused that it caught you by surprise when he spoke again.
“You already know if you're going to college, noona? We're graduating this year.”
You blinked once, twice, three times. His nonchalant self went back to waving the towel over nonexistent smudges as you breathed in and decided not to go that route. “Will you?”
Jungkook raised his head, pausing his movements for a moment to try to analyze your gaze. With a sigh, he let out your poorly disguised way of shifting the focus of the conversation to get up and hang the instrument, glowing, on the wall of the music room.
“I don't know yet… Namjoon-hyung says he can help me.”
“Isn't it your dream, why do you doubt it?”
“I'm not sure, noona. What if I don't measure up? What if I fail?”
When your friend turned away, the mirror to his soul showed his vulnerability dancing on the edge of his eyelids. His distrust constricted your heart, a hand closing around your throat at the inner conflicts you knew Jungkook used to have and in the face of which you often couldn't do anything about because he didn't usually share such things.
“Then you try again.”
“Noona…” Jungkook wanted to grumble, it was obvious from the way his eyes moved to the ceiling, his head cocking as if he was about to give you a big life lesson on why you can't survive on motivational phrases.
But Jungkook was a softie about such things, even if he tried to hide it.
“Jungkook, you are literally a golden promise. No process is ever easy, especially in the industry you want to get into, but don't think for a second that you're going to outgrow it. You're one of the most capable people I've ever met.”
Your friend stopped his steps, when after hanging up the bass he was returning to your post in front of you, raising his head as if caught committing a prank. But the vulnerability in his eyes remained, and by the way they shone in the dim light of the room, still blinking to try to contain the emotion, you knew your words had tugged at just that thorn in his heart you were trying to pull out.
“Thank you, noona.”
“I'm just telling the truth.” You lifted a shoulder, shaking your head nonchalantly like it was no big deal, and Jungkook just let out an amused chuckle.
“You do know we'd never forget about you, right? How could we?”
-
“How could we?”
Yuna shook her head, frowning at her phone, oblivious to the way you cringed at her choice of words.
“She's bringing celebrities into the store and she want us to leave? Don't we work so well that we always take the top employee of the month spot even though it should only be held by one person? Don't we deserve that gift?”
You watched her, marveling at how after just a few seconds so many emotions could build up into an overwhelming knot in your chest. The old notes of an old piano played in the back of your head, bringing to the surface memories of when life was easier; when you thought you had it all and nothing would ever be better than that; when you thought you were enough.
“So what do you plan to do about it?” you blinked, focusing on the notation of bills in your notebook with an invisible hand squeezing your heart.
There was no use thinking about such things after so long.
Yuna pursed her lips, her expression serious and forceful. “I think we should have a sit-in.”
“We should? That sounds like more than one person.”
“Do you disagree with me?”
“I'm happy with going home early, especially on a Friday, you know?”
“y/n,” Yuna came up to your face over the cash register display case, her forearms resting on the glass and her eyes so bright with determination you were sure her head could light the whole store on fire the way she was scheming and scheming, running around like her life depended on it, “we could be close to meeting the seven gods of Olympus, and you think the best thing to do is go home?”
“Just in case you forgot, I have a business to run now.” You reminded her, moving to poke her with your middle finger all over her forehead and push her away from the cash register now that a new customer had come in.
“What business should a business matter when you could meet the reason for existence itself?”
Yuna dropped onto the display case, her body sliding like jelly until only her head was left on the glass. You and the new customer watched her, her arms limp at her sides and her gaze lost. A lone tear running down the bridge of her nose.
“God, you're so dramatic.”
“Does that mean yes?” Her head snapped up like a spring, a big smile scaring the soul out of the customer who ducked behind your friend to run for their order.
“No and stop acting like that, you're going to scare away customers.”
Yuna whined, her exaggerated tantrum leading you to wiggle your feet all the way to the cellar.
“I'm offering you the holy grail, and this is how you pay me?”
The sound of her feet shuffling behind you kept your head sane. Even though his insinuations were baseless, your heart was pounding so hard you felt your ribs throbbing through your muscles and skin.
Your boss had written to Yuna that you two could leave the store early today because she had a private meeting to attend. She asked them to leave everything to Patrick, including clearing the store of customers and not to worry about paying for the shift, because there would be no discount at the end of the month. Yuna was faithfully and blindly convinced that your boss really wanted you to stay, because she spent almost ten minutes with her eyes glued to the screen almost without blinking, watching the 'typing…' appear and disappear under your boss's contact name. 'I'm sure she's debating how much confidence she has in us…', she said as her red eyes missed no detail of that important chat and that primordial moment, ending in an offended 'none!' when her last message came through.
In the same way, Yuna convinced herself that the meeting that would take place in the same place where your feet were planted was going to be attended by the seven entertainment kings of the country. The unmentionables, for all practical purposes. Where had she come to that conclusion? There was no foundation. Had your boss given any hints? None. Yuna had her head in the clouds believing she could meet her idols if she insisted a little longer.
“Would you really prefer to stand your friend up to meet seven men you don't even know for sure will show up here?”
“Well…if you put it that way it sounds like I'm doing something wrong.”
“Mmm, you just figured that out?”
Yuna dropped her shoulders as you took off your apron. Her tactics weren't going to work and it was time to give up. She half-heartedly opened her locker and stood looking at you with puppy dog eyes. You felt as guilty as if you had stepped on her tail by accident.
“Look, if I'm being honest, I doubt gigantically that Sol will tell you that you can stay if you ask her.”
“Not even for everything we've been through together?”
“She's still our boss, Yuna.”
Your friend mimicked your actions with a slower speed, her emotion draining away little by little. When her head cocked to the side, halfway through taking off her apron, you only sighed.
“The worst that can happen is I get fired, right?”
You weren't surprised that she was nevertheless willing to cross that line.
“That doesn't sound like much to you?”
“I can always write her a 'ha, ha, just joking' afterwards and get out of harm's way.”
You didn't contain the irresistible urge to roll your eyes and Yuna took that as her own signal or green light. Next thing you knew she was pulling out her phone and typing animatedly on the screen.
“I really don't think you should do that.”
“I have to try! Can I call myself a good fan if I don't do even the impossible?”
“You don't even know if they'll come.”
“I have a hunch.”
With her hand over her heart, Yuna sent the message and you feared for her life. While Sol was not at all close to the idea and conceptualization of a crazy and ruthlessly demanding boss, she did draw the line at several specific situations that they had both learned to respect. One of those was, of course, private meetings at her place. You and Yuna had set up the place countless times for Sol to sit quietly and chat with her most famous acquaintances, because her office was too formal to deal with them there, but her own home was extremely informal for the same purpose. The cafeteria served as a middle ground, the perfect place to be comfortable when talking business.
“Patrick is coming.” Yuna spoke again and by the way her eyes didn't leave the screen you could tell Sol hadn't responded yet.
“I wish you the best of luck, Yuna.”
“Thank you! Coming from you it's a blessing, indeed.”
“And why's that?”
You finally stood up, closing your locker with your strap bag over your right shoulder. You were ready to leave while your friend was still biting her index fingernail waiting for an almost impossible and inconceivable message from her boss.
“What else can I expect from the writer who blew up overnight and is soon going to be one of the New York Times bestsellers and famous worldwide?”
“Ah,” you turned your head, unable to contain inwardly the way a warmth settled in your chest; you still had a hard time accepting how things had turned out, but as long as you couldn't control the influx of orders that had to take a back seat, “smooth.”
Yuna smiled and when her eyes met yours you swore she was about to tell you one more time how proud she was of you, but her phone vibrated in her hands and the last thing you saw her eyes widen exaggeratedly before her scream shook the foundations of the store and almost the entire city.
“SHE SAID YES!!!!”
-
Arriving home unleashed immeasurable chaos.
As soon as you opened the front door, a river of books fell like dominoes, with your father's groans and your mother's screams in the background, the sound of your work echoing in your head like lightning as stomping echoed through the house.
“Seojun, I told you to be careful walking…!”The angry expression on your mother's face disappeared the moment she recognized your face, her features softening as she knew it was her daughter. “Honey. What are you doing here so early?”
“Is that y/n?” your dad's exclamation rang out from the kitchen.
“Yes!” your mom yelled back.
The welcome was nice, but things only got more and more tedious from then on. On the one hand, you had your father telling you about accounts, numbers and multiplications of how much you had to take out of your pocket to pay for the prints, how much you would make if you sold all the books you had printed and how much you would get back, and on the other hand you had your mother telling you about the countless publishers who had written to your dm's seeking to sponsor the sale of your books, taking advantage of the boom that had been generated by the phenomenon that was Kim Taehyung.
Seojun, who had decided to move back home for the weekend to help with whatever was needed, was telling you that they had had to hire five different deliverymen -three of them trucks- to be able to deliver as many orders a day as possible, while vehemently hitting your father's forearm to remind him to include that in the accounts.
Your father was in charge of everything related to money, your mother of the direct communication with customers and Seojun of the orders; everything was done by them, with Yuna's help when she was not working, with the excuse that after so many years you just had to sit down and enjoy the fruit of your sowing without any worries.
But at that moment, when they had just let go and thrown all their worries at your feet, they stared at you expectantly.
"We need a loan."
Your mother jumped in her chair. "That's what I said!"
"That's not necessary." Your father shook his head, as he surely would have done when your mother suggested the idea judging by the expression that had planted itself on her face. "Take a loan from my wallet, but don't do business with those bankers. They'll gouge your eyes out with interest."
"Or take a publisher's offer. They'll take care of all this." Seojun pointed out, his long black hair brushing his eyebrows even though he shook it nonchalantly so he could get a good look at the three of them.
"Publishers can be freeloaders too." Your mother counter-argued, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh, yeah? How many publishers have you signed on with to assert that?"
"Wow, careful with that tone, Mr. Lawyer." Your father pointed at your brother, while your mother only raised an eyebrow at him in response. Seojun sank into the chair, barely dragging an apology through his teeth.
"It's not a bad idea either, Dad."
His brown eyes returned to meet your gaze and you noticed the hesitation in them.
"Well, ultimately, it's your decision, honey."
Your mother squeezed your shoulder.
"I say we should listen to the lawyer."
"Hey!" Seojun frowned, straightening up on the chair. "Don't put such a big responsibility on me!"
Your father snorted. "But then weren't you comfortable a while ago giving orders and saying that I don't know what thing you had already seen it in class and that's why you knew what we had to do?"
"Dad…" Seojun elongated.
"Are you ready for such a position or not, Seojun? Tell me to start looking for another lawyer."
Your mother barely contained her laughter, only because of the offended sideways glance her own son sent her way. Laughter blossomed in your chest, too, like a big breath of fresh air in a field of flowers. You didn't know you needed that moment so badly until the tension disappeared from your shoulders as you laughed with your parents and your brother grumbled with his arms crossed.
-
A new batch of orders just went out - thank you so much for your purchases!
You looked at the story your mom had uploaded to Instagram in the solitude of your bedroom. The rest of the day was spent strategizing and planning marketing ideas that would likely lead you to ruin. In a defeated silence, you admitted that Yuna was really needed.
You had texted your friend a while ago, as the sunset was beginning to paint the sky with colors, but she still hadn't even checked her phone. Her last connection was a few minutes after you left at noon. You decided not to insist, even though you were a little curious about who had finally shown up at the store.
The best thing about that busy rest of the afternoon was that you'd been able to keep yourself busy enough to completely ignore the way you'd been whipped up by a few memories that morning in Yuna's company. A simple question had caused all that. And of course, with a heart as weak as a chick's and willpower almost non-existent, you let yourself be pulled right in that moment of loneliness into the well of memories.
“Jungkookie?”
Your voice pierced the silence and a shiver ran through your body as the darkness greeted you back. A few minutes passed after you plunged into the completely darkened room, walking tentatively and slowly inside, you heard a movement just outside the door you had just entered.
“Noona…”
You couldn't see him, but you didn't need to. The sobs that filled the room were enough to be able to guide you through that darkness, as indistinguishable as coal, and wrap your arms around his hunched figure on the floor beside the door.
The house was alone and as dark as that room the last night Jungkook would be there. Passing through the empty corridors of his house was a torment, but you could only imagine how your friend would feel in his place, unable to stop time as it slipped through his fingers.
Several times he had already told you that he didn't want to leave. You didn't think he meant it.
“They're waiting for you downstairs.”
“I know. I don't want to go, noona.” Jungkook moved his arms to wrap around your waist in a desperate grip, his erratic breathing against your neck breaking your heart. “I want to stay. It doesn't matter if I never become an idol. That's not important.”
“Jungkook…”
“I don't want to leave you…”
His halting voice was barely understandable, trying to be muffled by the jacket you were wearing that night when you went to see him off and didn't find him in the car with his parents. The heater seemed not to be a worthy opponent for that cold night.
“Jungkook, you're not going to leave me. We'll keep in touch. Why do you worry so much?”
“I don't want to be like them,” his pained voice pierced your chest; the movement of his body from the way the sobs were attacking him was almost uncontainable. “I don't want this distance.”
“Change is always hard, Jungkookie, but I promise you we'll be in touch always. I'll do my best to make it so.”
“Really?”
“Of course. I'll even come visit you as soon as I can.”
“No. I said I was going to pay for your trip.”
“See? You're not going to leave me.”
“Still I'm scared, noona. What if I'm not enough for them? What if I can't raise enough for you to come live with us?”
“You are enough, Jungkook. From the tips of your fingers to the tips of your hair, there's nothing about you that won't allow you to achieve your dreams, understand? You are destined to be a star. I know it's hard to leave behind everything you know in life, but believe me it will all be worth it. You will come out on top and you will succeed.”
“Noona…” Jungkook cried again, burying his face in your neck once more, clinging to you like the anchor that carried him to the surface of the ocean; the ocean shaped by his own tears. “I… don't… want… to… go…”
The hiccups that attacked him from his intense crying made it difficult for him to speak and you hadn't felt such pain even when the other boys left. There were tears shared, promises whispered and hugs that lasted longer than they should have, but no one had clung to your body as if they feared you were going to disappear at any moment and wanted to seize every second before the impending end.
“It's okay, Jungkookie,” you ran your hands up and down his back trying to calm his crying, trying to control your own as treacherous tears rolled down your cheeks with the darkness as your witness. “We'll meet again. You can wait for me. Then we can melt into another embrace and say how much we miss each other.”
Your phone vibrated on the bed, the notification startling you with its aggressiveness. Another vibration followed that one and then another. Turning on the screen, you found that half an hour had passed since you'd last seen the clock, and in passing you came across Yuna's name on the caller ID. You sighed, remembering the effusiveness with which she said goodbye in the afternoon and mentally preparing yourself for what was to come.
"Hey," you greeted, mildly surprised that her exclamations hadn't reached your ear first to interrupt your greeting.
"y/n, how were sales today?" her calm voice filled your hearing and a slight wrinkle implanted itself between your brows.
"Mmm, it was all good. We have several domiciliary and the prints are coming out with the deadlines arranged. With Seojun we considered that maybe taking on a publisher wouldn't be so bad, but I'm not sure yet."
You narrowed your eyes at the ceiling, shallowly biting your nails, waiting for the moment when Yuna would burst out, but it didn't come.
"Oh, yeah. We'll have to consider that. I'll go early tomorrow morning to seize the day." Yuna answered quietly, with the faint sound of things stirring in the background of the call. Surely she had just arrived at her apartment.
"Yuna?"
"Mhm?"
"How was the afternoon?"
"Oh, it was normal, really," she replied, her voice flat, as if the thought had barely crossed her mind since the moment she'd left the coffee shop. "I didn't see anyone memorable."
"Ah, so your knights in shining armor didn't attend?"
"Sadly, no." Yuna sighed, her unchanging attitude finding a little more sense in your head. She sounded more tired than anything.
You talked a bit more with Yuna before she excused herself to go about her evening routine and finally get some rest, specifically stressing to you how boring the whole afternoon had been and how every second she only thought about going home. You also told her a bit more about the ideas you and your father had half-heartedly spun as marketing strategies, but very earnestly your friend asked you not to do anything until she was there.
When her name disappeared from your caller ID, an Instagram notification popped up at the top of your home screen. The vibration felt like the pounding of a sledgehammer against wood, your sentence handed down with no chance of appeal, the blood in your veins freezing and an endless emptiness in the pit of your stomach.
jeonjungkook97 just followed you!
It was followed by the notification of a message from Yuna.
Unnie | 19:01 holy shit. jungkook just followed you on ig, right?
No fucking way. Another fucking account to block.
-
It wasn't like you couldn't deal with them. You had been doing it for about ten years. But now they just seemed to want to throw themselves in front of your face one by one and you weren't strong enough to handle that. Maybe your resolve needed to be more forceful; maybe you should be sure you hated them instead of feeling like your body was shaking and you could melt like jelly in the sun every time you felt they were one step closer to you. For a while, that was all you wanted; to find them; to be found. But now…?
The weekend was spent in a hodgepodge of managing your book sales and the seesaw of emotions you had in the face of the estranged but impactful actions of your old friends. You tried not to think about it too much; you really tried, but it was very difficult. It was easier to let the memories wash over you instead of diligently packing up the books on which you had squandered your blood and tears.
Your books, yes, that was the most important thing.
From the posts and hashtags, even though it had only been a couple of days, you could see that some people -those who had actually read the books- were already posting their opinions and reviews and you knew you had had plenty of time to prepare for that moment, but you really weren't ready to face it. You didn't know what it was; whether it was the pollen, the aligned planets, PMS, mercury retrograde… but all of those things were weighing you down too much recently and you weren't ready to hear the opinions.
And you couldn't help but keep asking yourself why? Having spent so much time, between so many experiences and so many personal changes, why now they decided that they would come back into your life? How dare they after ruining your life by completely abandoning you? Many times you wondered what was missing in you; what was never enough for them… sometimes you believed that this was how it was meant to be; just the seven of them, before you came along. It was always them seven first, then you.
Between lows and highs, between sadness and joy, you still had to keep working.
"Get rid of that face if you're not going to tell me what's wrong with you." Yuna crossed the cafeteria in front of you, picking up some glasses and plates on the table as lunchtime approached.
"I don't have any face."
"You've been in a somber mood since Saturday. You look dead."
You clicked your tongue, taking advantage of the fact that the store was nearly empty to do the math. "Don't be over the top."
"I'm just being honest and genuinely concerned about my friend, can you blame me?" Yuna reached the sink and simply left the dishes there to approach the cash register. Your eyes refused to meet hers, unsheathing a strange annoyance in the pit of your stomach.
"I'm fine," you moved the money automatically, doing the math in the back of your head as second nature, "don't worry so much."
"Ok, if you don't want to tell me about it at least try to distract yourself a little, why don't you take an extra half hour for lunch?"
"You know I can't do that."
"Sol would never know."
"I'm not going to do that."
Yuna pouted, dropping her chin onto the back of her hand. You knew she was about to fly you out of that chair the moment all the bills were safeguarded.
A whiplash of pain shot through your chest at the alternative of having to leave the cafeteria, alone, hovering with your thoughts once again, as you tried to shove the food down your throat. But Yuna happily dragged you out of the cafeteria, leaving you in the middle of the street with your little bag and lunch money, wishing you a happy break as she wandered off once more to deal with the sparse crowd of customers alone.
Maybe you should have told her you'd rather not eat than be alone, but…
That was the story of your life.
So you walked to that restaurant a couple of blocks away, where they sold the cheapest food in the area, and waited patiently while answering Yuna's messages to clear your mind.
Going through your social networks, you once again came across the cover of your books in the pre-viewing of a video and felt the bile in your throat. Let's see, you were happy. Or well, you were trying to convince yourself because you still had that bitter feeling in the pit of your stomach that wouldn't let you enjoy this blast like you should and it had a first and last name of its own. But, generally speaking, it was great that your books were selling, forgetting all the other circumstances that led to that happening.
So, standing in front of those videos, you were tormented by not being able to watch them. A self-published author should be prepared for that kind of thing. No, any author should be. Sharing your art with the world implicitly entailed confronting the world's expression in front of it. It was inevitable, of course, and it was also the energy that could start an engine or the fingers that put out the match. At that precise moment, you still didn't want to know what your destiny was.
You hated that. You hated feeling the weight of the world on your shoulders. Why was life so heavy if you had just begun to live it?
Ah, too much pondering for one lunch.
And to think this all started with an Instagram story.
Having an existential crisis because you couldn't stand dealing with the stress and pressure of the extreme demand you were having and because of mixed feelings for a bunch of idiots resurfacing after so many years was one of the last things you thought you'd have to go through that year. Fuck, or ever in your entire life.
Taehyung might have done you a favor as well as a disservice.
But that's how you spent a while longer, as you walked back to the coffee shop, the noise of the city not being enough to quell the bustle of thoughts crashing against each other in your head.
Being in the eye of the hurricane, however, didn't mean you were safe. You barely had a breath of fresh air before the eyewall hit you hard once again.
"Noona…?"
You froze a few steps away from the cafeteria. You feared not only the way you immediately recognized the voice, but the way your body froze, fear, panic and uncertainty clouding your sense.
You were in the alley behind the coffee shop. You didn't usually go in that way, but you had taken a slightly longer way back, only because you were too busy thinking about whether or not your body was up to a longer walk.
You were so close to the door that you could almost hear Yuna's voice on the other side, barely muffled by the beeping that echoed in your ears as panic took over your body.
You didn't want to turn around. Your body was having every possible negative reaction, as if it was fighting an infection, the lunch you had just shoved down your throat seeking to make its way back into your mouth and the feeling of dizziness momentarily clouded you.
Was this how you planned to react if you ever saw them again? Was this how you acted out the scenarios you imagined in your head at night when your memories went back to the last time you saw them?
The only difference between those imaginings and what was happening at that moment was that before you could prepare yourself; you knew what was coming; you had control. Now? Your legs were about to give out, the weight of your body too much to bear.
And you wanted to mock the pathetic behavior you were engaging in. You should turn around, slap him and scream at him that you never wanted to see him again. But your heart was beating and feeling and… how could you deny it anything after so many years of being neglected?
But maybe you were imagining it. The little sleep you had this weekend and all the memories you dragged from the trunk since you saw that Instagram notification must have made you crazy enough that you heard voices, his voice, anywhere… you were still near a busy street, it could be anyone-
"y/n."
And, yet…
You didn't turn around knowing what it would entail to give his voice a face, even though you could madly and frankly recall every line of its length, and you spoke harshly through your teeth even though your labored breathing made your chest heave.
"What are you doing here?"
"Noona… you're really here."
You cringed as you heard his footsteps and clutched with inhuman speed at the lock on the door in front of you.
"I asked you a fucking question: what the fuck do you think you're doing here?"
The silence didn't give you an answer, but you could glimpse it. With your patience on edge and years of emotional repression it was impossible for you to deduce how you would react in such a case, but it didn't seem too far-fetched, even if Jungkook's surprised inspiration said he didn't expect you to be so harsh and rude.
As if you cared.
—Yes you did care, in fact, that's why your heart was beating wildly against your ribs, the choking sensation increasing, the nerves on edge and the tears all over the corners of your eyes, but you had to stand your ground. After so, so long… why, why, why, why?—
"I… I…" Jungkook seemed to be having trouble finding his voice, even though in his profession the words came melodiously and easily out of his mouth. If you turned to look at him, you might have noticed that his face went from happiness to anguish with the speed a bullet goes through a field, "I wanted to see you…"
He sounded so small. The five-foot-ten-plus man, who you're sure was almost a head and a half taller than you, might as well have been a badly wounded puppy behind you. You knew from the way he spoke that he was holding back tears, but you didn't let that sway you. He didn't deserve it.
"Who gave you the right to come here?"
You didn't let him answer, not knowing if he was even going to, tightening the lock on the door you were about to walk through at any moment, bile in your throat making you fear the fall as if you were at the top of a skyscraper.
"How the fuck did you even find me?"
"Well, I-"
"I don't fucking want to know!"
You cut him off, the dryness and venom in your voice making you tremble. You were so sad, so distraught and so angry at the same time.
"And I don't want to see you. So leave."
"Noona…"
"Fucking leave, Jeon, for fuck's sake!"
You moved, almost as if by inertia, opening the door and slamming it behind you, the noise so deafening that it echoed in your ears for several seconds until you heard Yuna's footsteps approaching you and felt her arms wrap around your body.
You didn't know what she was saying, you just leaned against the door and let yourself fall, your body shaking in cry after uncontrollable cry, truly wondering how everything had gone so far; wondering how, after so many years, you still allowed them to have that power over you; a power they didn't deserve and shouldn't have.
You felt shattered in that moment, every piece of you scattered in the hold, every moment of your life replaying on its glassy, sharp edges. Even with half of you staying afloat, Yuna held you until the tears stopped flowing and with renewed resolve you promised yourself that this was never going to happen again.
Jungkook had taken you by surprise, but from now on none of them would ever catch you off guard.
-
a/n: i dont really know what to think about this chap. sometimes i like it sometimes i dont. i guess thats just how it works. pls letme know what you think! thank u for all the support! <3
tag: @rinkud @futuristicenemychaos @pastelpeachess @parapiop7 @kokoandkookie @midiplier @thunderg @lizzymizzy-blogg @ladymorrie @butnotmontana @lovelgirl22 @jjeonjjk7 @aurorathi @ot7stansthings @kunacat @borahaetelevision @mylovingstars @ghostlyworld @talyaaas-blog @slowlyshycomputer @jjk174 @maynina @saintomie @damn-u-min-yoongi @juju-227592 @yoongznme @queenbloody @leeeeeeeeeeeeeeeesworld @zippaur @v4ksk4tz @kookierry @idk179634 @canarystwin @elliott-calls @devilzliaison
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hoseoksluna · 3 months
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ICHOR | jjk
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pairing: idol!boyfriend!jungkook x f. reader
genre: fluff
word count: 2.4k
summary: after a bad day at work, you lose a sense of yourself and jungkook leads you right back to her.
warnings: crying, capitalism, death metaphors, sadness, jungkook is sweaty and is wearing that nike shirt he wore in his working out live, has fluffy hair!
note: hiii, bubbas, so this is fluff fic is partly for @frmisnow bc she inspired me to write this & i also want to make her feel better with this sacchariny-sweet jungkook, partly for me bc i genuinely wrote in detail about what i went through at work these past two days. and, also, for all you guys because i made you go through reading about such evil jungkook in my last berries fic. i hope you enjoy it, let me know what you think. here's to a bit of happiness in our lives *cheers with an imaginary glass of imaginary pink, glittery, strong, fairy alcohol*. <3
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You used to be a goddess, the ichor in your veins carried the color of roses, glinted with flecks of gold that would radiate your skin from beneath, make any heads turn, especially the one you loved the most. Customers at work smiled upon seeing your cordial aura, close-knit even though they were mere strangers, preferred to go to you amidst the flock of your other colleagues around. They would become radiated just the same, joy so terribly evident on their faces as their smile would grow. They would frown upon seeing the state of you at this current moment—curled up on your bed while the heat of the beginning of the summer clings to your near bareness, coming through your wide opened windows, the white, translucent curtains billowing up and down in their strange, but magnolious dance. 
You’re not Aphrodite. You’re not Euphrosyne, the goddess of joy and mirth, either. 
You’re the slain fawn at their feet—for their very own feast and for the feast of those aforementioned customers, who stand behind the dryly bloodied cause of your death. 
Work was hell, to say the least. 
You always thought death was a kind embrace, not a tight clasp of doom around the nape of your neck, your mental strain and disquietude the half moon marks that ever so slowly deepen. You mimic the movement on the hem of the linen shirt you wore for the day, one that you were too drowsy to take off when you arrived at home, having only a slight wisp of an energy to rid yourself of the uncomfortable tightness of your jeans and crawl onto your bed, knees to chest, on your side. You bunch up the fabric in your fist, wrinkling it, but you hardly vanquish the cuts that your anxiety slashes on your skin. You thought it would alleviate you of your tenseness, but as it seems—it only worsened it. 
You don’t even have tears to shed. Wept them all out in your manager’s office while she harshly, yet calmly reprimanded you for your mistake and the gravity of the fact that you almost lost your precious job, that you can’t imagine living without, washed over you and pained you like a splash of salty water in your eyes. Wept them all out when you breathed in the crooked, paralyzed expression of disappointment in her face—and that’s the sole thing that emptied out your system of that ichor, wiped out your reputation of being a good, reliable employee that everybody liked. 
Now the next unfolding of your days spent at work shall be filled with silent judgements and secretive gossip, the big talk of the entire building—something that will hang by the strands of your hair for every head to turn to until something else comes along. Another topic, another fuck-up. That’s the face of modern capitalism, the absurdity of day-to-day normalcy its features, and you’re so sick, so repulsed to be staring at it every single day of your life that you yearn to not be anymore. 
Death has flattened over you, but has not finished its job. It was Dante who described the process of hell in his Divine Comedy and you hate him for the rotten pulchritude of his mind because you find yourself to be standing in the middle of inferno with no guide—no Virgil, no Beatrice—to hold your hand and lead you through this scalding maze. You’re all alone, your mistake carving the branches of the trees burning down in your hell over your burdened, heavy heart that has been longing for the company of another ever since you walked out of your manager’s office. 
Your face screws as another agonized emotion rises in you. You can’t stand your aloneness, can’t stand your burden—and before you realize what you’re doing, your fingers have already tapped on your boyfriend’s name in your history of calls. The screen of your phone is cool against the fever of your cheek and you rub your face harder against your duvet, staining the strawberry pattern with the particular tinge of your makeup, which must have been the color of your ichor. 
You wince, the rings prolonging in your ear, your impatience running thin. 
Then, your heart drops once you hear the broken whisper of your Beatrice, faintly, barely, which causes your heart to spread its longing. Damn iPhones and their bad service. 
“Jungkook?” you call out, nonsense coming through the other end—and you repeat his name until his voice smooths out, relief sinking in like a stone in a pond. 
It turns out you were exchanging each other’s names and the intimacy of it curls the smallest of smiles on your mouth. You miss him; you need him. 
“When are you coming home?” you ask, wishing to descend into the emitting waves of the call, slide through them until you spring to wherever he is, no matter how tired you are—you’re willing to cross the distance. 
You hear him turn on his blinker and your heart almost does it for you. 
“I’m driving home right now. I’ll be there in ten,” he says and your relief expands in your chest, taking a small weight off of your heart. You place your palm against it. 
“Okay.” 
A beat of silence. 
“Why do you sound so sad?” 
Your mouth curls downwards. “Something happened at work.” 
An inhale of breath. “Screw that, baby. I’ll be there in five, okay?” 
A whimper. “Okay, drive safe.” 
And your Beatrice didn’t lie to you. Soon, you hear the banging of the front door closing, the tossing of his keys and the prodding open of your shared bedroom door. The hastened footsteps, hefty on the floating floor, the squeak of the mattress as his knee dips on it and the glide of his hand up your thigh. All before you use the last of your strength to focus your swimming vision on him. 
Hearing him alone helped you take a step further in your inferno. 
And then you can smell him. The scent of sweat clinging to his favorite ivory Nike shirt, interlaced with his natural, poetic scent, creating something divine that blesses you with the strength to place your palm on top of his hand. Your coworkers hugged you earlier, clasped your hands in theirs in reassurement and more than welcome it, you absolutely despised it. Lingered in their affection only because you thought you should let yourself be consoled, for you know they care about you. But his touch… that’s not something you sense your body to want to run away from. On the contrary, it seems to be something that it’s missing. 
You can’t part the stream of your new tears with your other hand. 
You spill, completely. 
Jungkook coos, squeezing the bare flesh of your thigh as turns you onto your back and nudges himself between them, plopping his body on top of yours. And then, he’s kissing the place your undone shirt made for him, trailing his lips up your neck, where he stays, where he conjures a garden of fluttering gardenias, their tender petals tickling you. 
“What did they do to my princess?” he murmurs against your skin, his words muffled but heard clearly by your ears. You sob, your chest shuddering in violent staccatos against his, unable to settle, unable to speak. Jungkook lifts his small head and frowns, his thumb swiping your tears away while the rest of his four fingers cradle your cheek. You lean into the balmy safety of the realm of his palm, gaze fixed on the wrinkle between his brows, mouth letting out puffs of soft, gentle exhales. He kisses your chin, the corner of your mouth, the wetness of your other cheek—buries his nose into it, right beside yours, inhaling you, giving you fresh air to breathe in. “Don’t cry. I’m gonna decapitate them.” 
The whisper, the hand that parted the stream. You whimper and he steals the traces of your despondency, pecking the new, smooth surface, planting roses to bloom, its roots bestowing you with the ability of speech. 
Two sentences, two miles further in the inferno. Your burnt down trees are lost in the far distance, swallowed by the fire, yet the forest shows every sign of growing anew the longer Jungkook’s heart beats against your breast. 
He’s so benevolently patient with you, not rushing you with your explanation. It all the more drives you to disclose it to him—and you open your mouth to speak, your fingers following suit, helping you with your words as you drag them through the soft mop of his fluffy hair. 
“I made a mistake yesterday while closing up,” you croak out, licking your lips. Jungkook lifts himself onto his elbows, clutching your shoulders, keeping the close proximity intact. His warm grip is a stability you lean on, one you appreciate with every broken shard in you. “I did it five minutes earlier and somebody came in. I sent them away and they filed a complaint against me. They wrote an email to my manager and I… I almost lost my job.”
The wrinkle between his brows deepens and you thumb it, wishing it away. You don’t want to mar his beautiful face because of your foolishness; you want it to remain that soft ball of light that he always is, but then you realize you’re asking for the impossible. His mouth flattens, pity flashes across his round eyes, which helps you perceive that if he didn’t react like this, he wouldn’t love you—and his love is the air you breathe; his love is the ointment you need for your sadness. 
As if he heard you, he kisses you delicately and you sail—skip the purgatory and land in paradiso, a meadow of wildflowers overlooking a cliff that opens the restfulness of the sea, scattered with windswept petals of those lost blossoms, coloring the surface with pinks, whites and the greens of their leaves. 
“Did your manager yell at you?” Jungkook questions, his lips lifted a millimeter above yours, his thumbs fondling the fabric of your shirt upon your shoulders. 
“No, but she was very strict with me. Told me not to cry—”
His breath wafts over your face when he looks into your eyes, displeased. “She made you cry?” 
You cried because through her words you comprehended the gravity of your mistake and its repercussions, not because she deliberately used them to open the dam of your emotions. It’s precisely why she told you not to cry, giving you a hint of her perpetually nonexistent compassion. And you tell him. 
“No, she didn’t. She was very professional with me and made me realize what I did after I apologized. I cried because I was so scared of losing my job, of disappointing her and shit like that.” 
Jungkook purses his lips, shaking his head, curly strands rippling like the tremor of leaves. “She should’ve dropped it after you apologized. Five minutes is nothing, baby. You did nothing to deserve to be treated like that.” 
Your chest heaves, his love and reassurement sifting sand into your bloodstream, the color of ichor. “I know but… you know,” you trail off, indicating the realm of respect all peers must have for the management that you don’t really want to venture into, not when Jungkook had to deal with it as well in his music company. But unlike you, he broke out of its clutches. It cost him tears, frustration and weight loss, but now he’s a free bird of paradise. You don’t wish to make him remember his cage. 
Jungkook sighs. “Yeah, baby, I know, which is why I’m telling you that you didn’t deserve that.” 
Your chin quivers, the negative thoughts that wore you down in his absence returning at full speed. “It affects my mental health when I’m bad at my job.” 
Brows rounding upwards, his eyes flick to your chin, a glossy wetness coating them. He pecks it before he gazes into your irises. “But you’re not bad at your job. You just closed a few minutes earlier. You’re amazing at your job. You make people happy. I’ve seen it with my own eyes,” he says, meaning every word with the way he presses each one into your pupils. You feel its magnetism and you take it. “And I’m proud of you. Every day. You work so hard. Come home tired every day. Deal with people who aren’t always nice to you with kindness that I envy. I’m proud of you, you hear me? You didn’t make a mistake. You did good.”
And there it is, the stampede of your bloodstream—Jungkook has seeped the entirety of the sand until he emptied out his hand and your ichor charges forward, its light like a bud flaring open beneath your skin. And you're floating on that sea in paradiso, your braid adorned with the wet petals that swims back and forth to his arm that holds your body steady upon the surface, the names of the Greek goddesses lining every perimeter, sinking within. 
You’ve become them, all over again. 
“Thank you, Ggukie,” you whisper, running your hand through the front bangs of his hair, gripping them. It’s as if you’re holding the petals. “I needed to hear that.” 
He pouts, touched by the love name. “I know. You need to rest now after such an emotionally exhausting day. No more tears, okay?” 
You nod, feeling whole, feeling like you can face tomorrow with more courage. “Okay.” 
You pout, mimicking him, asking for a kiss and he gives it to you in that same delicate manner, plunging the entirety of the summer’s heat, molded by his hands, into you, making it bearable for you. 
Looks at you for a long time, after. Smiling. 
“You know, I didn’t take a shower after the gym for you,” he says, quirking a smile on your face.
You’re intimately acknowledged with the reason why, yet still you ask: “Why’s that?” 
He reciprocates the smile. “I thought you’d help me wash up. My muscles are sore and all. I lifted the double amount of your body weight.” 
You bite your lip. You’re willing to wash every inch of him with your utmost care. You deem he deserves it for enlivening you, but you’d much rather stay here, inhaling that dizzying scent of him. 
“I’ll do that, but let’s stay here for a little while.” 
Jungkook nods, kissing your jaw before he finds a comfortable place on your bosom, listening to the rush of your ichor, the sun rays upon the sea of that paradiso, inching you closer and closer to God. Augments the ending of that Divine Comedy. 
Doesn’t lead you to the final installment of death, but pushes you to life full of that brisk wind, the humming of the sea and the song of swaying wildflowers. 
Holds your hand. 
Doesn’t let go. 
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nenoname · 1 month
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Parallels and contrasts between Stan and Bill in the new book and website
Aka miscellaneous thoughts that I'm too lazy to condense into something comprehensible– what you see is what you get folks! (Book stuff, DVD commentaries! The website that came out when I was trying to write this out and is now making me pull my hair out! But in like a good way? That god damn poem!)
not necessarily same coin stuff but I sure am thinking about it.
It’s been said that a large part of Ford’s relationships with Bill, Fiddleford and Dipper was him trying to fill a hole that his estrangement with Stan had left, with none of them clicking in that same way. Dipper was directly compared to Fiddleford as someone who was completely charmed by Ford but is ultimately too anxious of a person to properly deal with the life he's offering nor pull him back when he starts going too far. Meanwhile, Bill is more analogous to Stan but to the extreme with all the doubts that Ford had been fed about Stan (that he was using him, he never grew up, he betrayed him, sabotaged the machine on purpose) turning out to be exactly true with Bill.
The book has Bill saying flat out that Ford wanted the charisma Bill had and then shows that at the peak of Ford's loneliness he was being envious of Stan's charisma, social skills and hands.
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[STANLEY COULD HAVE MADE HER LAUGH]
(There’s an irony that Stan always thought that Ford was the popular twin even after doing embarrassing stuff like the kissing machine – if you haven’t seen the Swine Before Time Stan commentary get going, it’s great)
Then Bill swoops in with jokes and endless encouragement and the nickname only Stan used for him, all this in a way tailored for Ford to immediately like him while also reminding him of Stan but "better."
(The show rarely used it but Bill’s use of Sixer is extremely frequent in Journal 3 alone but the comics solidify it as being a pretty personal childhood nickname that kid!Stan used as his default way to call Ford.)
And then you see all of this working because Ford straight up writes Bill’s words using Stan's handwriting (and it turns out that Ford’s capital letter ‘for emphasis/angry’ font in general is the same as Stan’s handwriting too)
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(It’s important to note that this is different from all the fonts that Bill uses for himself!)
All of this leads to the deja vu of Ford getting stabbed in the back by someone he was codependent on over a machine he thought was going to change his life for the better
Other things in the book that I’ve seen others point out and noticed myself:
Bill trying to reinforce that Ford would be alone without him, and threatening to tell Stan that Ford never loved him but the first thing Stan does in his letter is tell Ford that he loves him with their childhood code
Stan also only uses ‘Sixer’ in his letter when he normally tends to use a mix of nicknames post-Weirdmaggedon (sure it’s only twice but idk I find it noticeable)
Stan ripped a dollar in half when Bill taunted the reader earlier about how they wouldn’t do that
The promo photo vs the one in the book, Ford’s face being untouched vs Stan’s. While I initially interpreted this as “Bill’s book being a way to torment Ford” and then “him ending up having a meltdown at the thought of Stan”, the new poem kinda gives off an ominous vibe of "him moving on to focus on Stan instead whether he wants to or not"
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Ford writing “miss you” in the bro code soon after arriving at Backupsmore which is shown in the Fiddleford photo, then Bill taunting Ford that he misses him
Bill and Stan now have another parallel of losing everything because of a genuine mistake but only Stan was willing to work to make up for it while Bill doubled down and became far far worse
The utter hatred Bill has for Stan being able to win in the end and get back his family
Both of them being institutionalized, with Stan’s mentioned in Guide to Mystery and Nonstop Fun (which has references to Bill liking Mabel for her chaos, silly straws, etc. Also Dipper basically came up with the Author theory but slightly wrong from theorising about the ink blot like a year before the Ford reveal)
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(saturn devouring his son perfectly depicts my emotions when reaching this part of the book)
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(EDIT: I was thinking about how Bill giving Ford three days to open the portal striked me as odd for some reason... and then I remembered;
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Stan gave Mabel 3 days for their bet as well. Both of them specifically say 72 hours too.)
And now for the stuff we know from the website:
Bill having severe family issues with daddy issues implied since only his mum is mentioned directly with her trying to comfort him as a kid vs Stan having severe family issues with a definite focus on his dad while his mum was the only one to ask about Stan during that meeting with the principal and her being the only one to show up to his funeral
Both of them wear their dad’s hat despite of all of this
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Bill starting a billion cults and has a lawyer called Multilevel Mark, Stan having his Scientology-esque cult being shot down by irl Disney and as a kid having his “technically a pyramid scheme” comic being shot down by a publisher
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(I doubt that Stanentology would’ve gotten far but also you can see that a trend that the main way Bill gathers followers is by reading minds and revealing secrets only the victim would know, so let's hope that Disney-let-him-start-a-cult AU Stan never gets mind reading abilities)
Despite how we know how Stan is traumatised as hell from losing Ford, it’s noticeably isn’t referred directly in the Wheel of Shame (like you can’t tell me that the time between pushing Ford into the portal and starting the Shack isn’t as rock bottom as it gets, Bill literally recognises Stan in the first place by thinking about his brand). This probably is because Bill knows that they managed to repair their relationship and he’s fucking pissed about it.
There's further parallels between Stanley and Bill in poem; with lies and redemption and home, and further association with fire for the both of them
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“Saw his own dimension burn.
Misses home and can't return.”
“Always dragged his family down.
One mistake, disowned, denied,
Only thing to do was hide.”
“One way out: the open road.
Reinvent, retry, reload.
A girdle, eyepatch, fathers fez,
"I'm a new man!" so he says”
“One way to absolve his crime.
A different form, a different time”
“His big break, it finally came,
Redemption from a life of shame.”
“Says he's happy. He's a liar.”
“Truth is just whatever sells.
When you've lost track of your lies,”
“Lie until you aren’t lying anymore”
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Bill in a rotting corpse of a snake oil salesman
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This triangle can fit so much self-loathing projection while being a hater
(Also it's funny that Bill is so insistent that Ford had to be the one who came up with the plan
Like look at this
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See ‘em cogs turning in Stan’s head while Ford has clearly given up hope)
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“How dare he dress up fancy when his jokes suck!!”
There's a parallel of Ford projecting onto Dipper in a way that makes him feel like kindred spirits with his nephew but Stan projects on Dipper in a way that causes him to be more harsh even if he has good intentions. Meanwhile Bill projects onto Ford in a more positive light in comparison to Stan, who in this case Bill wants to rip him and himself into shreds whenever he thinks of the guy. Bill’s shared love for fun/chaos with Mabel (despite them being so different at their core) is why he likes her the most out of all the Pines but that doesn’t stop him from trying to murder her (although I think most folks don’t know about that interview where Alex was like “yeah, I think Bill would’ve burnt Ford alive the moment he got the equation, he’s done playing with his toys at that point”)
Other tidbits:
I find it interesting that the full version of the Wheel of Shame has blue sparks and fades to grey scale (which automatically reminded me of his mindscape)
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Stan signing off as Stanley in the book – this ain’t anything huge to chew on I'm just very over emotional about this… but also there’s Bill being called Billy by his family/in the codes
Ford thinking of Stan as childish/someone who never grew up and then we get hit by “yeah Ford always had some part of himself stuck at 18” oof
Ford underestimating Stan’s control over the mindscape, not knowing that he’s able to hide memories in Dreamscaperers, manipulate the layout of his mindscape enough to trick Bill and memory!Stan telling Dipper how to use the mindscape which Bill was genuinely surprised by
I'm headcanoning that Stan doing so bad at that history test is due to some latent bs from what Bill knows which is all crazy conspiracy level stuff
I think it's also intensely funny that all of the Pines promise that they'll murder Bill if they ever see him again and then they immediately turn to Stan and go “now it's your turn to write a letter! :D!!”
(I feel like the main requirement that the Theraprism has for Bill before he can reincarnate is mainly acknowledging his family idk which honestly would fit even better if his soul becomes Stan’s)
EDIT: I FORGOT TO MENTION THE OUROBOROS PASSWORD (or... uh oroborous which is a typo when theres a suspicious amount on the site which may mean somethng but i digress) anyway that leads to the Shack Axolotl lore where it bluntly states that Ford released it despite it showing up 30 years later anyway
and theres....
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thecrabbybarista · 1 month
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We should talk about The Lords in Black I'm gonna do that right now because I wanna talk about their trope subversion and symbolism and shit.
So obviously The Lords in Black are a subversion of Cosmic/Eldritch horror and I'm gonna explain how using an ant metaphor
So the classic ant metaphor for cosmic horror is to imagine that you're an ant encountering a piece of human technology, right? I believe it's usually a circuit board. The whole point is you're witnessing something deeply incomprehensible and unfamiliar.
The ant metaphor for the Lords in Black is: imagine you're an ant and a teenager starts burning you with a magnifying glass.
It's still incomprehensible, but not in the way the complexities of a circuit board is. If you were suddenly stricken by a scalding beam of light, the only way you could rationalize that is that it was an act of a god. You and your ant colony would invent and fear this god.
The Lords in Black each represent a kind of strange and inscrutable cruelty that the modern world offers, the cursed lasers that cut into our souls, from places we have no power over.
Wiggly is obviously the idol of capitalism. Animalistic desperation, commodity fetishization, and the exchange of money, products, and emotions. All of the things that the other Lords represent stem from elements of capitalism, hence why Wiggly is THE Lord in Black, the leader of his brothers. What Wiggly offers will never be enough. He is what leaves you always unsatisfied.
Nibbly is the idol of the consumption of human beings as products. Obsession with self image and presentability, trends of all kinds, and the beauty and fitness industries. People in the modern age are desperate to be consumable, and some would go to any lengths to do so. This is an attitude that especially impacts women, who feel that they need to wear make up every day just to earn respect. And when we feel the need to change to be respectable, the need to look appealing and to be consumable, the bourgeois eat well. Our quest to look special makes us like any other customer, filling. It's no mistake that the two leads of Honey Queen are women desperate to be noticed and respected. It makes them all the more eager to be eaten.
Tinky is the idol of infinity and repetition. Dead end jobs, middle class suburbia, and the inability to escape one's circumstances. It's no coincidence that the first time we see Tinky is at a wedding, a ceremony dedicated to eternal commitment, or that he's associated with CCRP, a company in which most of the workers do useless busywork all day. When you look at the life you have ahead of you, it can feel crushing. Will you ever have a real career to be proud of, or will you be stuck at this job until you die? Will you ever not struggle to make rent? Will you really love your spouse forever? What if you don't? Isn't it just easier to continue the routine than to address the problem? After Ted is driven to insanity by the Bastard's Box, after he discovers that he can't escape the person he's become, he becomes homeless, one of the most terrifying eternities a person can find themselves in, fully dependent on random acts of kindness to survive while your situation drives you further into insanity.
Blinky is the idol of the panopticon. Gossip, public drama, and unwanted attention. One of the first things Blinky does on screen is sexually objectify a girl who's fresh out of high school, and this plainly displays a consequence of living in a content driven world. There is constant scrutiny and interpretation given to your every action. At any moment, you could have over a thousand eyes on you, whether you want them there or not. The panopticon we live in captures us in moments of time, and turns the person we were in that moment into an object deserving anger, embarrassment, lust, admiration, judgement, or anything else a watcher might assign. But Blinky also targets another fear, the fear that we feel when we can't see the danger, and cannot protect ourselves or those we love. Alice's anxiety that Deb might cheat on her when she's not around are made manifest in Watcher World, and Bill's frustration at not being let into Alice's life are used against the family. We are inclined to both want and fear the panopticon. We hide, and we seek, and we expose.
Pokey is the idol of tyranny. Complacency, sedation, and obedience. The world revolves around the few and uses the many in service of this. We are all expected to fill some role in service to the rich, to work for a corporation and to buy the products of those corporations, and when we cannot fill these roles we are at risk of starving, or being kicked out of our homes. We must join them in their quest for profit, or die. But we must also accept their pacifiers or we will be driven insane. We must choose between complacency or despair in confronting our place in the world as a pawn, as an ant in the colony. Isn't it easier to accept the comforting lies? Your job is important. Corporations give people what they want. People in power deserve their power. People in power are using it well. We are happy. America is great.
These are the magnifying glasses that are being used to torment us, that we cannot make reason out of, that we've made dark gods out of. But this isn't the first time humanity has encountered scorching light from the heavens. When the people of ancient Greece witnessed burning rods of light, falling viciously from the heavens, they invented Zeus.
But we know where lightning comes from now. We know the science behind electricity and its place in the world. We know what keeps lightning away and what attracts it. We can protect ourselves from it.
But there's an important difference. Lightning is natural. It's existed long before we have and it will continue when we're gone.
The unorthodox cruelty of being alive today is not natural. We cannot logic our way into surviving it because it does not operate under a sound logic. But we can make things a little more bearable by focusing on what is sound, understandable and natural.
There is humanity. There are families friends and lovers who would go to the ends of earth to protect each other. As long as we have this humanity, we have hope.
That's why Miss Holloway's deal with the Lords erases her from living memory after her temporary deaths. To have the powers that she does she gave away the power most important to have under the Lord's rule: human connection. The only real thing we have left.
Alice and Bill escaped Blinky's manipulation through the love they have for each other
Emma survived the longest out of any character in tgwdlm because of the genuine hope Paul gave her of a better future
Lex snapped Tom out of Wiggly's control by reminding him of what his son really means to him
Ted couldn't escape Tinky's plan for him because he was too jaded to make a genuine connection with a woman.
Linda was eaten by Nibbly because she didn't have a loving connection with her father, because her father always made her believe that she was never good enough, because this mindset led her to take for granted the connections she did have in her life.
The world no longer cares about us. We have to care for each other. It's the only thing we have left
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blockgamepirate · 7 months
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youtube
This is my petty complaint time, this video annoys me SO MUCH and even more so what annoys me is that the latest comment on it is this:
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HE TAUGHT YOU SO MUCH BULLSHIT, PLEASE NO, DON'T LISTEN TO HIM
And yes, I've been thinking about this stream for nearly three years now, I've been meaning to go through it to critique Wilbur's arguments, I just never got around to it
Wilbur: "Tubbo, you've created an anti-state capitalist dystopia"
So all Tubbo had explained so far was that his town had a big company that owned two other big companies. Nothing about the government or anything. It's true that one company owning all the major businesses is pretty dystopian, sure, but I have no idea where Wilbur got the "anti-state" thing from, usually capitalist companies are fine with the existence of states, states do a lot of dirty work for the capitalists
Spoiler alert: Tubbo's city turns out to be pretty much a city state so Wilbur is just wrong anyway, not that he ever acknowledges it even when it does come up
Also it's not like corporate acquisitions are completely unheard of in the UK, as far as I know. Admittedly the UK is also arguably a capitalist dystopia but you know what I mean, the concept shouldn't be all that shocking to Wilbur
He's being so dramatic and trying to make it sound like he's caught Tubbo in a mistake or something. He also keeps asking questions and then not letting Tubbo answer properly before taking like one word Tubbo says and running with it
But this is the one that I find the most obnoxious:
T: "I did some research into like economics and stuff and I discovered this thing called UBI, have you heard of it?"
W: "What's it stand for?"
T: "Universal Basic Income"
W: "Yeah, I know about that"
He clearly does not know what UBI is.
It becomes very apparent very quickly:
W: "So you've got universal basic income but then also the rich exist still?"
T: "Yeah! Yeah they do."
W: "How does that come about then,"
T: "So in my mind--"
W: "is this universal basic income different for different people?"
T: "No, no, the universal basic income is better for everyone, just the people who have--"
W: "In order for there to be a 1% that means someone's earning more,"
T: "Yes, someone is earning more"
W: "but that means the universal basic income isn't universal!"
T: "No no no, not everyone's getting paid the same but everyone gets the same to begin with, okay? But then you can build on top of it."
W: "Oh no, you've got a-- Tubbo, you've got a fucking social point system!"
T: "Have I made a social point system??"
W: "Tubbo, you've made China!"
None of what Wilbur says makes ANY sense here. The only explanation I can think of is that he didn't know what UBI was, made an assumption that it just meant "everybody gets paid the same amount of money" or something like that and then just spoke fast enough that Tubbo couldn't correct him
Tubbo is correct here, Tubbo knows what he's talking about, but he can't out-speak Wilbur who is just throwing so much bullshit out of his mouth that there's no time to even respond
So, UBI means that everyone in the society gets a regular payment of a specific amount of money that's the same for everyone regardless of their life situation (and generally a requirement would be that it has to be enough to live on, altho people do like to water this down a lot...) This would be completely irrelevant to your wages or salary or capital gains. You can choose to either live on the UBI or you can just do the regular capitalist things to earn extra money on top of the UBI
Obviously I'm not one of those people who think that UBI would solve all of world's problems, I mean I am an anarchist and all (and not an ancap either), but it's literally just a very streamlined welfare system. That's all. It would probably be a lot better than the current models we have but it's not fundamentally different. There's nothing particularly weird about it, the point is just to make sure that everyone has enough money to live on, in every other regard it's just normal capitalism
Wilbur completely misunderstands the whole thing (because, again, he does not know what UBI is so he's just trying to imagine what it might mean based on what Tubbo is saying) and jumps immediately to something he apparently has heard of, which is the Chinese social credit system, which has nothing to do with UBI. In fact I'm pretty sure it also doesn't actually have anything to do with income either, or at least not directly, so I don't think Wilbur knows what the social credit system is either
He's literally just talking in buzzwords
Like if you actually wanted to make a leftist critique of Tubbo's city, you could, don't get me wrong. But instead Wilbur keeps insisting that he's made a social point system despite Tubbo trying to explain why it's not that at all
Wilbur just keeps yelling over Tubbo until his own chat turns against him and finally Tubbo himself also kinda gives up
And from there Tubbo also kinda just starts playing into the bit and just lets Wilbur direct the whole conversation, the rest of it is just them getting more and more into the roleplay. Wilbur keeps talking about the state pension plan, even though Tubbo already tried to explain that it's part of the UBI (this actually is how UBI is supposed to work, it does indeed streamline most of the welfare spending! Obviously you can still raise questions about that (I can think of a few at least) but Wilbur didn't let Tubbo explain so I have no idea what Tubbo actually had in mind)
I could try to go through all of what Wilbur says here but it's just too much, so maybe some other time. Although to be honest there are so many other streams that I probably should talk about instead that some fans unfortunately took a bit too seriously because they assumed Wilbur knew what he was talking about
My point here is mainly that just because someone sounds really confident and knows a bunch of buzzwords doesn't mean they know what they're talking about.
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elbiotipo · 2 months
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Ocassionally you see articles that are like "scientists are trying to hide how bad things are" and I'm the opposite of that. I've done my work on ecological restoration (actually grabbed a shovel and planted trees) and I'm amazed at how fast nature can restore itself. Ecologists used to think restoring tropical rainforests, to give an example of a complex ecosystem, would take centuries to go back if it was even possible -this is why you see all the dystopian fiction of rainforests going extinct- when in fact, it has been proven that without human pressure, ecological succession takes place and rainforests grow back nearly to its original physionomy in a few years, even if diversity does take a time to bounce back. Reintroducing animals might sound harder and it is, but we must remember that animals have faster cycles than humans. Just letting breeding pairs in protected areas is often enough for populations to grow back, as in the reintroduction of jaguars to Iberá in Corrientes Argentina, and many other cases. What is even more interesting and encouraging is how cheap, both in the monetary and the general effort sense, these works are. If a bunch of underpaid biologists, rural people and park rangers can do it, imagine if they had the full support and backing from states and international institutions.
We are at a stage where, besides climate change, we are facing tremendous biodiversity loss and this mostly comes to our methods of land use and food production. But these can be changed. We must assume the fact that nature is not a pristine untouched thing, but humans, in every continent they have lived in, have long managed its resources. The Amazon Rainforest is full of useful plants that hint at silviculture which is still done by its native peoples, the deserts and tundra that seem uninhabited have been home to pastoral and hunter-gatherer peoples. Humans have shaped all habitats on Earth, even the most 'untouched' ones. Just as they have managed their environments and natural resources, other civilizations have managed or mismanaged them. Now that industrial civilization has spread across the globe, we need to find a way to balance our need for food and other products with the need to preserve and take care of Earth. This can be done, we can ensure both a good quality of life and a protected biosphere. We can stop the dichotomy of humans separate from nature, assume our historical role as managers and stewards of natural resources, and do it with our modern understanding of ecology and science.
This does mean that it will take a lot of popular mobilization and change to uproot current interests and create states that uphold these principles. But I'm a marxist. I don't 'believe' in class struggle, I think it's a fact based on observations about society, and I also think that this current form of capitalism will eventually be replaced by socialism, and I believe the future socialist societies will not do the same mistakes as the past. We not only can create new societies that can take care of nature and the general welfare of people, but I also think that as history proceeds, it will be inevitable.
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