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three person poly relationship made up of two people who are already dating trying to coax someone with horrific self worth issues into a loving relationship. stray cat style

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hey guys i am in fact alive , been super busy with work lately and its made me a little emo so have a bit of half assed learning to recover and love yourself angst

everyone talks about when wade can’t or won’t eat but what about logan ?

hurt/comfort ish short drabble/prompt

everyone had their bad days, it’s a normal part of life to experience low-lows on occasion.

but for logan it wasn’t just that- in his own universe sometimes meant all the time. he hardly had the energy to drag himself to the bar most days, the alcoholism clawing at the back of his brain served as its own energy supply.

and now that he was with wade.. well he just sort of forgot it wasn’t considered ‘normal person’ behaviour to get so angry he couldn’t keep down food. or even just didn’t WANT to, the feeling of having to digest something other than the harsh liquid sloshing around in his stomach made him nauseated.

“Logan.. peanut,” wade would call softly, sat at his (or well. their- bedside.) “it’s like eight thirty, you can’t go to bed without eating something.”

and didn’t that make his chest feel tight. fucking christ the tone he spoke in alone had his eyes on the verge of stinging, so concerned but not pitying.

maybe if he’d had a better day he’d try to explain why that wasn’t an option, finally free the words he’d never spoken out loud. (‘can’t. it hurts. too much wrongness taking up the space in my stomach.’)

he frowned hard into his pillow, rolling the choice over in his head like it was life or death.

“..just- can i have some water?” he asked, voice hoarse and strained.

had logan been turned the other way he would’ve been able to see the pursing of wades lips, eyebrows or lack thereof drawn tight.

“water *and* some strawberries. deal or no deal, logie bear?”

it was stupid as all hell, he knew he was being baited. a halfassed attempt at making him better without straying far into dangerous touchy feely territory.

but it worked- made him feel fucking cared for or whatever.

“‘kay..” he said in barely a whisper, missing the way wades gaze softened behind him as he nodded. “perfect, you deserve a sweet treat sugar tits. i’ll be back.”

maybe he did deserve a sweet treat.. maybe he could let himself be waited on. tomorrow he’d wake up regretfully nauseous and guilty. but for now he smiled a sad, private thing, and let the tears fall.

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Both Wolverine and Sabretooth use the he/it pronouns set. They told me themselves

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I’m gonna be so sad when people stop caring about Deadpool and Wolverine. Like what happens when people don’t upload fan art or fan fics anymore. Im going to be a shell of a human.

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“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

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so genuinely excited for this , go give the first part a read if you haven’t already.

almost 36k through my next poolverine epic. it's the where soul meets body sequel. btw. should be done soon. i hope. anyway here's a sneak peek

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god i wanna post more poolverine so bad but ive been sick as fuck since monday night

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fuck. ☹️

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hopped on the trend :|

Found this picrew and thought its cute

Here is me atm

Npts: @t3mpest98 @varpusvaras @tinyduckies @insertmeaningfulusername @ihaventpiickedausername @cookiemonsterv3 & anyone who wants to do this (u also dun have to if u don’t want to kdkdkdk)

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Very whimsy

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trans wolverine again , shocking to nobody

this one is a bit of an angry letter to lost girlhood so buckle up for emotions

Logan’s femininity was never gentle nor quiet, he was not your average little boy, not an average little girl either. he grew up in victorian style dresses with sad eyes and drooping shoulders, angry at the world and himself for not appreciating the beauty of womanhood his mother had gifted him. His femininity had claw marks, deep and violent, he clung to something his body rejected and held it over his head like a suffocating sheet of plastic. just trying to get one more day- one more before he let go.

and he did, eventually. he gave in to the longing in his heart whenever he passed men’s wear on the run, deciding to live as a boy for ‘connivence’ sake since nobody would think to look for him if he were masquerading as something not himself.

only it was himself, his true self, he enlisted in any war possible who’s generals were morally grey enough to accept someone so small looking. carving his own footholds into the stone wall of masculinity and hauling his way up until shrunken, malnutrition worn arms became strong. muscular.

years passed, so many years that a name for his kind of person was invented (transsexual), and then reinvented (transgender). it was accepted and rejected, ridicule and pride, even so throughout it all he kept on going.

now though, in a time where his shoulders were no longer drawn so tight, and his posture free of fear, he found himself.. despaired for the little girl in those frilly dresses and her sad eyes. he missed her, in a way. he missed holding her close at night whispering words of comfort to her scared, not quite right body, he missed the joy in his mothers face whenever she’d relent and wear something not fitting of her frame. dresses.. heeled shoes.

and.. he was angry for her, fought furiously for the rights and privileges of his daughter laura in her honour.

some days? he thanked her for being so brave.

for bearing the burden of ‘not quite yet’ until his time came.

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Trans wolvie doodles because he's literally me fr

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more bpd!wolverine / poolverine because i’ve been more episodic lately and enjoy projecting onto them

wade is the one out of the two of them with borderline exposed nerves, scar tissue and lesions covering his skin but to logan it feels in reverse. he doesn’t experience emotions or any kind of emotional reaction on a normal base level, he feels it as if it’s stripped him raw. hung him out to dry on a rainy day covered in papercuts.

he knows it sounds insane, the kind of shit his charles would’ve pushed therapy onto faster than wade could say ‘gubernatorial’ but it’s just how he lives. how he’s always lived. healing factors only heal what’s on the outside, his brain stays just as fucked no matter how many times he puts a gun to it.

on the bad days he paces like a caged animal while wade happens to be at work or not replying to texts. he’ll clean the kitchen enough times to get their security deposit back, work holes into the ground as he tracks through the hallway hundreds of times attempting to take any edge off. it’s like being flayed open on a silver fucking platter. no medications work for him so he ‘rawdogs’ (as the kids say) it and suffers greatly.

it’s not until wade is back in his arms, happily chattering off about his day and laying on his usual annoying affections thicker than normal does his frantic body calm itself. and even then he’s still.. open. the psychological wound takes time to knit back together when he comes undone. god he fucking hates having to ASK for praise but it’s the only salve that calms his burning soul

he makes it work. he always does

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poolverine angsty but happy recovery drabble

content warning — past disordered habits , logan being unhealthy , the works

logan who never really bothered with his own health after his life went downhill, he’d drink alcohol in place of water, alcohol in place of food, really just alcohol in place of most sustenance. even when he was throwing up mostly blood and vodka he’d just open another bottle to fill the emptiness of his stomach.

it became a sort of addiction after so long, he liked having proof he was shitty on the outside and in, didn’t give a fuck if he lived or died.

and then wade came into his life, he made sure he ate meals on their road trip in the void, basically force fed him water and bread to soak up his insane blood-whiskey levels even faster than his healing factor already did.

when he moved in he couldn’t really.. do that right away. and wade noticed, he noticed but never made a joke about it. he’d eat every meal with logan, talking throughout to distract him from the foreign feeling of his stomach being filled and keeping him comfortable and (lovingly) annoyed until his nausea settled.

it was a rocky few months, trying to get logan on a normalish schedule, but it paid off. both physically and mentally. they both saw the changes

logan filled out more, no longer looking dehydrated and strained. he didn’t have any seizes or little fainting spells (which was really his body quite literally dying, not just passing out) and he seemed happier. lighter on his feet.

wade loved him enough to make him love himself again

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we as a society need to babygirlify logan more

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logan who has bpd but didn’t really acknowledge it as a genuine issue he experienced because he was constantly set to tense anyway so it didn’t matter.

it wasn’t until he met wade that he really experienced the ‘high highs’ rather than just having someone toy with his lowest lows much like scott and jean did. wade even went through the trouble of recognizing when he was obviously triggered and giving him outlets or ways to destress in those rare moments.

poolverine accommodating and growing soft for each other

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t4t poolverine reblog if you agree