panick-pixie
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18+ art and writing blog | 21 yrs old| current focus: makin stickers
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panick-pixie · 2 months ago
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𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐒.
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here are all of my favorite logan fics! i will continue to add to this as i read more. as always, any smut is marked with a *. please go support these talented writers!
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
i’m down on my knees, i wanna take you there by @thebestandworstdayofjune
guess by @bpmiranda *
my girl by @imaginedisish *
sugar, sugar and come on and show me by @eupheme *
a peaceful repose by @d1stalker
i don’t know why i bite by @not-neverland06
night rides w/old man logan by @eufezco *
guard dog by @ovaryacted *
dig your claws right into me , can’t get started , and make him do what i say by @dollfacefantasy *
easing by @yesimwriting
the honda odyssey by @coweye *
white hot forever by @eddies-ashtray *
diet pepsi by @flowersforbucky *
time after time by @hyper-fixates *
the art of make believe matrimony by @gothgoblinbabe
truth or dare by @pandapetals
*:・゚✧*:・゚✧
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panick-pixie · 2 months ago
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The Great Outdoors
Summary: Logan takes you on a camping trip, but his survival skills are hilariously outdated. Between using a rock instead of a proper camping tool and attempting to start a fire with his claws (which ends up in a mini bonfire), you can’t stop laughing. Eventually, you both end up cuddled in the tent, sharing ghost stories that lead to goofy scares and unexpected confessions of affection.
Pairing             : Wolverine!Logan Howlett x Female!Human-reader
Genre              : Fluff
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The sun was already dipping low behind the trees when Logan parked the truck. He got out like he was about to conquer the wild, while you stood there, looking at the woods and trying not to laugh at the seriousness on his face. Logan wasn’t the camping type—or at least, not the “modern” kind. He was more like the “rough it with nothing but your fists and claws” type.
This was going to be interesting.
“So, what’s the plan, Bear Grylls?” you teased, slinging your backpack over your shoulder.
Logan grunted, pulling out a rolled-up tent from the back of the truck. “Survive. That’s the plan.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, so detailed. I feel so prepared.”
“Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve done this a hundred times. Just follow my lead, and we’ll be fine.”
Oh, boy.
You made your way into the clearing Logan had apparently scoped out beforehand. It wasn’t bad, actually—nice little spot near a river, surrounded by trees that rustled softly in the evening breeze. As soon as you set your stuff down, Logan got to work... sort of.
He started with the tent. You watched him as he unfolded it, frowning like the damn thing had personally offended him. “These damn things get more complicated every year,” he muttered, trying to shove a pole into one of the sleeves.
“Need some help?” you asked, biting your lip to keep from laughing as he wrestled with it.
“Nah, I got it,” he grumbled, jamming the pole so hard it almost snapped.
Five minutes later, the tent was half-collapsed, one corner flapping in the wind, and Logan was cursing under his breath.
“I think it’s supposed to stand up, Logan.”
He shot you a look, then glanced back at the tent. “It’s fine. I’m just, uh... testing its durability.”
You let out a snort, shaking your head. “Right. Maybe you should just let me handle that.”
“I’m a grown-ass man,” he muttered, glaring at the tent like it had insulted his mother.
“Yeah, and you’re losing a fight to a piece of nylon.”
After another moment of watching him struggle, you stepped in and started putting the thing together while Logan, not exactly one for sitting still, decided to gather firewood. He disappeared into the woods with nothing but his claws, because why bring a hatchet when you’re Logan?
By the time he came back, arms full of sticks and logs, the tent was up and looking perfect. You leaned against it, smirking as he dropped the wood into a pile.
“See?” you said, gesturing to the tent. “That’s how it’s done.”
Logan grunted, clearly not impressed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s see you start a fire.”
You crossed your arms. “Watch and learn, old man.”
He grinned, that dangerous little glint in his eye. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”
Logan, being Logan, didn’t just gather some twigs and light them with a match like a normal person. No, that would’ve been too easy. Instead, he pulled out his claws and crouched next to the fire pit, sparks flying as he struck them against a rock.
“Logan, that’s not how—”
Whoosh!
The pile of wood lit up like someone had dumped gasoline on it. Flames shot up higher than you thought possible, and you stumbled back, laughing your ass off while Logan jumped up, cursing.
“Goddammit!” He swiped his claws through the air, trying to beat the flames down. “I meant to do that.”
“Oh, sure,” you choked out between laughs, wiping at your eyes. “That’s the perfect height for roasting marshmallows, right?”
Logan glared at the mini-bonfire for a second, then at you. “Next time, you can light the damn thing.”
You couldn’t stop laughing, the sound of it bouncing around the trees. Logan finally cracked a smile, though he tried to hide it behind a gruff mutter.
After some careful maneuvering (read: Logan finally letting you fix the fire), you both settled down for the evening. The fire was low, crackling softly, the night air cool around you. Stars were starting to peek through the darkening sky, and the only sounds were the soft hum of the forest and Logan chewing on beef jerky.
You leaned back against a log, holding your hands out to the fire. “So, what now? Gonna show me your impressive ghost story collection?”
Logan raised an eyebrow, gnawing on his jerky like a wild animal. “Ghost stories? What are we, twelve?”
“Come on,” you teased. “Everyone knows camping isn’t complete without ghost stories. It’s like... the law.”
He scoffed but leaned back, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “Alright. You want a ghost story? I’ll give you one.”
“Oh, this oughta be good.”
Logan cleared his throat dramatically. “So... once upon a time... there was this girl. Thought she was real tough. Real smart.”
You narrowed your eyes. “Is this about me?”
“Shhh, I’m tellin’ a story here,” Logan said, smirking. “Anyway, she thought she could survive out in the wild with just a little ol’ tent and her wit. But one night, she heard a rustling in the trees... something... watching her.”
You leaned in, playing along, even though you knew exactly where this was going. “Oh, yeah? What was it?”
Logan’s eyes widened theatrically. “A bear! Big, ugly thing. Twice her size. It came into her camp, sniffin’ around, and you know what she did?”
You shook your head, grinning. “What?”
“Nothing. She just froze. The bear ate all her snacks, tore up her tent, and left her sittin’ there in her own piss.”
You burst out laughing. “Wow, Logan. Truly terrifying. 10/10. I’m gonna have nightmares for weeks.”
Logan grinned, leaning closer. “I got more. You’ll be beggin’ for mercy by the end of the night.”
You pushed his shoulder lightly. “You’re such an ass.”
As the night deepened and the fire began to die down, you both retreated into the tent. It was surprisingly cozy inside, the faint warmth of the fire lingering outside while you snuggled into your sleeping bag. Logan stretched out beside you, his body taking up way too much space, but you didn’t mind.
“Comfy?” you asked, glancing at him as he wiggled around.
“Like a fuckin’ sardine,” he muttered, trying to adjust in the small space. “Who the hell makes these tents so damn small?”
“They’re meant for normal-sized people, not... whatever the hell you are,” you said with a smirk.
Logan snorted. “Mutant privilege. I need bigger accommodations.”
You both lay there for a few minutes, the quiet settling in around you. Logan’s breathing was steady, his body warm next to yours, and despite his earlier grumblings, you could tell he was content. This whole camping thing wasn’t so bad, after all.
“Alright,” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “I’ve got a ghost story.”
Logan raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything, so you went on.
“There’s this guy, right? Big, tough, hairy—like, really hairy. The kinda guy you wouldn’t wanna meet in a dark alley.”
Logan rolled his eyes, but you kept going.
“And one night, he decides to go camping with this totally amazing girl—smart, funny, great taste in camping snacks—”
“Wow, I wonder who this is about,” Logan deadpanned.
“Shhh,” you said, stifling a laugh. “But the thing is... the guy? He’s got a secret. See, he acts all tough, like nothing scares him, but deep down? He’s terrified of one thing.”
Logan looked over at you, eyes narrowing. “What?”
You grinned, leaning in close. “Commitment.”
Logan blinked, then let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re full of shit, you know that?”
“Maybe,” you said, smiling. “But you know I’m right.”
He didn’t deny it, just stretched out a hand to pull you closer, his arm wrapping around you with an ease that made your heart flutter a little too fast.
“I’m scared of plenty of things,” he muttered, his voice low and rough. “Just not the same kinda things as you.”
“Like what?” you asked, curious now.
Logan looked at you, his eyes serious for once. “Losing people. People I care about. That’s what scares me.”
The confession was quiet, unexpected, and it hit harder than you’d thought. You swallowed, unsure of what to say, but Logan just shrugged like it wasn’t a big deal, pulling you in tighter.
“Guess that makes you a real badass,” you whispered after a moment, your voice barely breaking the stillness of the tent.
“Damn right,” he muttered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now shut up and go to sleep before I start tellin’ real scary stories.”
You smiled against his chest, warmth spreading through you as the sound of the river and the soft crackling of the dying fire lulled you to sleep. And maybe, just maybe, you’d both survived the great outdoors after all.
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panick-pixie · 3 months ago
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Practice [L.H]
pairing: Logan Howlett x reader
summary: Your roommate Logan lets you practise giving a blowjob on him for your date with another guy.
warnings: smut, 18+, oral sex (f&m receiving, reader’s first time), Logan is a liittle mean but just a little and he gets softer towards the end, spitting,  jerking off, Logan keeps his socks on I think it’s hot okay 😭😭, Logan calls reader bub, baby, good girl, pretty girl; Wade is mentioned but I’m imagining a younger Logan than in DP&W
word count: 3.2k (this was supposed to be a drabble lol idk what happened)
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“Who’s the lucky guy?” Logan asks from the sofa as you walk past him in your pretty date outfit. You’ve got some time left before your date but you decided to get ready early in a bout of nervousness.
“This guy I’ve been seeing,” you tell him, trying to seem nonchalant. You haven’t yet mentioned to Logan that you’ve been on a few dates. He spends a lot of time in his room, away from you and Wade, and he just never happened to be there to hear about your dates.
Logan mutes the tv. “What guy?”
“Met him online.”
“And he’s so good to you that you get this pretty for him?”
You smile at his indirect compliment and sit down next to him.
“Yeah, he’s nice. I… I think we might go a step further today,” you feel your cheeks heating up, “I’m kind of nervous.”
You see his jaw clench slightly, “If he’s a good guy he shouldn’t make you nervous.”
“I’m not nervous because of him, it’s just that it would be my first time. And I don’t want to be bad.”
He chuckles and leans back, “You won’t be bad. Just make him go on top.”
Logan isn’t taking your hint, so you take a deep breath to gather your courage. “What if he wants me to go down on him and I don’t know how to do it? Will you…” your voice falters as his eyes meet yours.
“Will you help me?” you stutter and Logan immediately begins to smirk. Embarrassment spreads through your body.
“Help you how?” He asks, smug.
It’s too late to go back now. “Well, I don’t know. Like, explain how it works or.. you could show me?” you shrug.
“You probably know better than me how to find porn online.”
“No, I mean show me on you.” That’s all the courage you can muster for the day and you wonder if you will even have the strength to look back into Logan’s eyes. He solves that problem for you, putting a finger under your chin and pushing it up so you’re looking at him.
“You wanna suck my cock?” He sounds annoyed and you immediately want to die.
“It wouldn’t have to mean anything,” you look at his cheeks, his nose, anywhere but his eyes, “I just wanna know if I’m doing it right. It’s okay if you can’t cum, I just want to practise.”
Logan scans your face for a sign of discomfort – other than your embarrassment – but he doesn’t find any. His features soften, “You really wanna go down on me, bub?”
You nod quickly, “For practice.”
“Mhm, for practice.” He’s mocking you, but all you can do is ignore it.
A thrill shoots through your body at his next words: “C’mere then.” He spreads his legs, clothed in jeans that strain around the thickness of his delicious thighs. You can see the outline of his abs through his tank top. You can’t believe this is happening – you’ve had a crush on him since you saw him for the first time.
Logan beckons you between his legs and you move to sit on the carpet, its fluffiness stopping your bare knees from hurting. Your short skirt rides up your ass and you pull it down self-consciously despite what you’re about to do.
“You sure about this, bub?” Logan asks again from above you. You gulp when you look up at him. How does he look even better from below?
“Yeah,” you assure him, your panties already growing wet. You sit down and try to patiently wait for instruction but you end up squirming. When you look back up at Logan he’s got one of his eyebrows raised.
“You don’t know how to open a belt either?”
“Well, yeah but don’t we have to–” your mouth starts to water when the rough clink of his belt interrupts you. He’s all but ripping open his belt; he unbuttons his jeans and takes out his hard cock. You almost get goosebumps.
“Oh,” you say.
“If a guy likes you, he doesn’t need any time to get ready. Foreplay is just to get the woman nice and wet,” Logan tells you, although you’re barely listening. All you know is that you wouldn’t need the foreplay either, you’re uncomfortably wet, trying to get friction against your legs that are folded underneath you.
Logan watches you stare at his erection, “Take your top off. I like seeing your pretty face but that’ll make it an even nicer view.”
“But I’m not wearing anything underneath,” you thumb at the thin straps of your top.
He smirks, “even better.” He reaches down to pull the top up by your waist but then hesitates.
You nod but Logan rolls his eyes. “Use your words.”
“You can take it off,” you say but you nevertheless put your arms in front of your tits when he pulls your top over your head. 
Logan chuckles, “Baby, I’ve been dying to see your tits since I first met you. You really think you gotta hide?” The nickname makes you melt and your arms immediately drop to your sides. 
You sit up straighter as Logan lets out a low moan, “God, look at you. So fucking perfect.” He reaches out to grope your tits almost clumsily. His cock bobs in front of you as he leans down to touch you and you feel yourself getting addicted to him already. You just want to start.
With a last rough squeeze of your tit, Logan leans back. “Wet your lips,” he instructs. You lick your lips.
“Wetter,” he says, and your eyebrows crease in confusion as you lick your lips again.
Logan huffs, spits into his hand, and smears his spit over your mouth, “There. Don’t you look fucking pretty like this.” You just about purr against his hand and then push against it with your cheek.
You place your hands on either of his knees and lean in to kiss the tip of his cock, all swollen and ready. You immediately feel the urge to go further but your shyness takes over, so you keep pressing wet kisses to his length.
“God,” Logan groans, leaning his head back in pleasure as you keep kissing, and you start to use some more spit.
“Look at you, don’t even need me to tell you what to do,” he pulls his arms behind his head smugly, like an asshole, and you smile, getting shy again. You kiss along the underside of his cock some more, getting more desperate with every second.
“What now?” You ask. 
Logan softly smiles at you for a second, pulling his jeans and boxers further down his thighs. You pull them off completely as he pulls off his top. He’s naked in front of you now, except for his socks, and you take a second to appreciate all the broadness and his muscles. The hair from his chest all the way over his abs and down to his cock is begging for you to kiss every inch of it but you force yourself to focus.
Logan takes his cock in his hand to lift it out of the way, and slowly starts to jerk off. His eyes go to you and then to his balls, and you get what he wants you to do. Still, he gives you one word: “Lick.”
You move forward, inhaling all his manly smell, instinctively going to press another wet kiss to his cock. You let spit pool in your mouth and begin to lick all over his balls, feeling the heaviness of them on your tongue.
“Take as much as you can, baby,” he rasps, continuing to jerk off. You almost slap his hand away – you want to be the one making him feel good – but you stop yourself.
You do as he tells you, opening your mouth to cover as much of him as you can, the warmth of his balls against your tongue making you drool.
“Yeah, baby, juuust like that. That’s a good girl,” he breathes heavily.
Your pussy clenches around nothing at his words, and you have to take a deep breath to focus on anything but the wet ache between your thighs.
His balls move against your tongue from his jerking off, and you gently suck on the skin, moving around a few inches every few seconds. But the movement from his hand on his cock is becoming distracting and, without thinking, you instinctively push his hand away. 
He stills and then smiles, lifting his hand away. He lightly leans his elbows on the back of the sofa to the sides of him. 
“You can start sucking my cock now if you’re ready, baby. Been doing such a good job.”
“I don’t know if I can take all of it,” you pout. Even just imagining his dick down your throat feels too much, though not in a bad way. He’s just so fucking big. 
“Just take as much as you can. I bet you can take more of me than you think.”
His words motivate you. You go up slightly on your knees, carefully wrapping your hand around his cock. You spit on it, letting it slowly slide down the sides as you begin to spread it with your hand. 
Logan huffs out a laugh from above you, “So adorable. You don’t need to be so careful. Here, do it like this.” He wraps his much bigger hand around yours and he starts to jerk off with your hand, showing you how rough you can be as he starts to fuck your fist. 
You clear your throat, “Can I use my mouth now?”
He bites his lip, “Ready when you are, baby. Just breathe through your nose and relax.” Oh, you’re relaxed. Being between Logan’s meaty thighs is the best you’ve felt in your life. 
You press another kiss to the tip of his cock and part your lips to take him in your mouth. The first second you feel the heaviness of his cock on your tongue is like heaven. Logan lets out a low moan and you look up to find his eyes already on your face. He looks like a god from below, his muscles starting to glisten with a thin layer of sweat.
Opening your mouth wider, you take more of him. You start to jerk him off where your mouth can’t reach but you do your best to go as deep as you can, moving up and down with your wet mouth.
The feeling of Logan’s cock in your mouth is addicting, and the quiet sounds he is making even more so. 
“Doin’ so good for me, baby,” he whispers, voice weak. You look up into his eyes as you suck his dick, spit starting to run down your hand, and a smirk spreads on Logan’s face.
“Such a pretty girl,” he leans his head back.
Your jaw is starting to strain because he’s so big but you never want to stop doing this. You swallow down the taste of his precum and can’t wait to actually make him come. He’s starting to pulse in your mouth, abs contracting with every time your tongue moves.
You’re wondering how much long–
“Y’gonna make me come, baby. Gonna come so hard,” Logan moans, and you figure he’s warning you but you want nothing more than his cum in your mouth.
You put in all the effort you can, sucking Logan’s cock further down your throat, cheeks hollowing. You start to feel him at the back of your throat, spit spilling from your lips.
Logan groans, and then he’s filling up your mouth, pumping his cum down your throat as you eagerly swallow. You look up at him through your lashes, taking in his face, his eyes shut and mouth hanging open in pleasure as a long, almost pathetic, groan comes out.
He’s coming longer than you’d expect, coming in your mouth in sticky ropes, a hand guiding the back of your head. You still pout when he’s finally drained and he slowly pulls his hips back.
Logan sighs a last breath of pleasure and holds his hand in front of your mouth. “What?” you ask.
“Spit.”
“Uh, I swallowed,” you say.
“Really?”
You stick out your tongue for Logan to see your empty mouth.
He smirks. “God,” he huffs, “so fucking perfect. C’mere.” He pulls you up to the sofa and sits you on his lap, your bare chest against his. Logan pushes his mouth against yours, kissing you like he’s filled with a new desire, as if you didn’t just make him come.
You don’t get to kiss him for very long though, because he pulls you to lie down on the sofa, turning so your legs are spread around him.
“‘m gonna show you what it’s supposed to feel like for someone to eat your pussy. Just so you know your date is doin’ it right, ‘kay?”
What date? You almost ask. You remember for a second but then, looking at him, all of your thoughts are replaced with Logan again. “Yes,” you nod hornily, “Please.”
“There you go, got you even saying please now. You want it that bad, huh?”
All you can do is nod as he pulls down your skirt and panties. He almost goes cross-eyed when he sees your pussy for the first time.
“God, baby, you coulda said something. Such an eager little thing. You got that wet from having my cock in your mouth, hm? Gonna make you come so good, yeah?”
You nod again and he bends down to press another sloppy kiss to your lips, kissing down your neck and stopping at your chest, “Can’t get enough of these,” he plays with your tits, desperately grabbing at them like a man seeing a woman naked for the first time.
He smiles up at you when he realises how much time he’s spent at your chest, pressing a last kiss to your sternum before placing one of his big hands on your tit and kissing further down. You assume he’s going to stop before he gets to your pussy, just to tease you, but he kisses all the way down from your belly button to your clit, starting to make out with your pussy.
“Logan,” you moan, your hand flying to his hand on one of your boobs.
“Feel good?” He asks, and you almost faint when you look at his head pushed between your thighs. He looks exactly right, as if this is where he was meant to be the entire time.
“Mhmm.”
He chuckles against your pussy, tongue darting out to play with your clit. The ache between your legs starts to get worse with him there, and you feel your pussy clenching around nothing.
Logan smirks and pushes your thighs further apart with a rough hand. He starts to gently rub your clit, and you’ve finally got the friction you’ve been needing this entire time. You’re already close. 
You let out an involuntary moan as he pushes his thick middle finger inside you, and you grip his hand on your tit harder, and he squeezes you there, lovingly. 
“I got you, baby,” he says into your pussy before starting to fuck you with his finger, pushing another one in as he begins to rub a sweet little spot inside that you can never reach yourself. 
He leans in to start licking your clit again, circling it with his tongue and, ever so slightly, beginning to suck. 
You’re so close, the waves of pleasure almost, just almost, flooding over you. You squirm, your knees pushing together, held open by his broad shoulders. 
Logan sucks harder, fingers fucking into you with your clit pulsing against his tongue. 
It only takes a few more seconds of Logan’s mouth on your pussy for you to come. Pleasure explodes within you and floods your entire body as you arch your back, pushing further into him and his wet mouth and thick fingers.
Logan doesn’t stop until you’re satisfied and your legs go numb around him.
He grins at you, biting his lip to stop his smile from spreading too far, and he presses a kiss to the middle of your belly, squeezing your tit gently before letting go. You feel cold without him there.
With your legs still around him, you instinctively pull him in and he lies down next to you on the sofa, gently caging you against the back of it to give you the more comfortable side as he balances on the edge.
“You wanna know how good you taste?” Logan asks, not waiting for an answer before he kisses you. You slide your hand behind his neck to pull him in, tasting yourself on his tongue.
He stops kissing you. “So.. you still going on your date?”
You feel your cheeks getting hot, “What if I told youuu…” you twirl a strand of Logan’s hair that’s hanging over his forehead, “that there never was a date. Or a guy.”
Logan breaks out in a smile, “You were too shy to ask me to fuck you so you made up an entire person?”
You hear the key turning in the lock in that moment, and even though you’ll be covered by the back of the sofa Logan shields you with his hands as best as he can, reaching for your clothes.
Wade comes in and you immediately sit up, holding Logan’s hand and forearm to your tits to cover them.
“Guess what happened?” you squeal at Wade.
Wade’s eyes go over to you and then to Logan, and he drops his bags of grocery shopping to jump up and down, “Was it my plan? I told you my plan would work!”
You grin, “It was your plan.”
Logan looks between you and Wade, rolling his eyes but he’s unable to hide a smile.
“It was a good plan, right? I told her she could just ask you out but she was too shy so I told her to make up a guy she’s dating,” Wade explains.
“Alright,” Logan laughs quietly, “Now fuck off so I can fuck my girl again.”
Wade’s eyes go wide and he says what you’re thinking, “My girl? I’d faint if he called me that. You owe me,” he points at you.
You blow a kiss at Wade and he pretends to catch it, pressing it to his lap. You roll your eyes and smile, waving at him, “You heard him, we’ve got stuff to do.”
The almost animalistic smirk Logan gives you when Wade is gone should scare you, but it only makes you want him more. He picks you up in his arms, carrying you to his room. You can’t wait for what’s to come.
-
P.S. Logan thinks good girls reblog and comment on the fics they enjoy 🩷🫣
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panick-pixie · 6 months ago
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truly
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panick-pixie · 6 months ago
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human centipede except it's just the shoulder/torso area of several ppl that make up the segments of the insect, sewn together almost neatly, vascular system threaded together through the segments. And it's alive. And it has my father's face.
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panick-pixie · 6 months ago
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first time I've sketched in months and it's this
tw for bones/disturbing anatomy no eyes this time tho
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anyway. I apologize if the colors are weird, I always have a blue light filter on my phone. Also Ibis started doing an @i disturbance thingie
New character tho! Inspired by IHNMAIMS and human centipede. So there's that.
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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ALSO KÖNIG FACE HC DOODLE THAT I DID AND I CAN'T GET OVER BC FUCK HE'S PRETTY
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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anyway I have CoD brain worms so here's a blurb I originally posted on Twitter. original idea here, thanks to the op for letting me take this and run.
Ghost x some proper fucking dental care
Contents: Price is a father figure, talk about dental care, nothing too serious, Ghost is a big ol stubborn baby, Price's love language is acts of service, NOT ship please don't tag it as that, this one is platonic and familial.
The conversation started when an overconfident new recruit made a snide comment about "British teeth" and Soap had to stop Ghost from beating his ass. He ended up having to see Price to report what happened and that's when the Captain found out that Simon hadn't been able to go to a dentist regularly at no fault of his own. So Price decided to take it upon himself (and his wallet) to get Ghost some proper dental care.
The first visit, Price didn't tell him where they were going, just said it was a surprise and boy Simon was surprised all right. He was anxious, not only would a stranger be poking around his mouth with metal tools, he knew his teeth weren't in the best shape and he'd have to allow said stranger to see at least part of his face and get all up in there. He hid it well though, gruff, curt and staring down everyone in the waiting room as if he could combust them just by thinking. It went well enough, he had a tooth that had to be removed and a few cavities filled and he handled it well. On the way back to base he kept poking his face, the feeling of numbing strange to him.
The second visit was a routine cleaning and that's when braces were recommended and Ghost groaned, another office building and another stranger messing around in his mouth. Price was more than happy to take him however and he knew it was for the best. The first visit to the Orthodontist went better than the dentist's, the waiting room was less formal and there was a big coffee maker that also made hot tea. The doctor was also nicer and he found himself relaxed until he found out he'd have to wear the damn metal things for two years. He was glad they wouldn't be put on right away and they'd need to take a mold of his mouth first, which was fine until he was gagging around the cold pink goop and metal plate used to make the mold.
A week later he was scheduled to get them put on and he was surprised that the process of putting them on was painless. When the braces were tightened the following month he started to regret allowing Price to take him to the orthodontist. Of course he had no trouble keeping them clean and no one dared to call Ghost "brace face" or "metal mouth".
The second month he had them the doctor recommended rubber bands to help bring his jaw forward and correct his slight overbite. The first time he snapped one was the second time he put them in by himself, he was alone in his barracks and let out a loud string of curses when his eyes began to get teary. The second time they snapped is when he was yelling at some poor recruit who had the misfortune of fucking something up. The rubber band made a sharp snap sound that anyone in the room could hear and Ghost hollered. He almost felt like punching the doctor when he gave him new, thicker rubber bands to wear.
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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hate what people did to the dead dove tag
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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it was my nibling's birthday today so I made this
behold
a thing
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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hey uhh can some of y'all buy a couple stickers? I need milk and some cough drops.
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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Noon and sun with pumpkin heads (had to get that out my head)
NOON
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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It’s way early and I’m not sure if I’m even gonna do goretober this year (haven’t for the past two) but I’ve always wanted to make my own prompts. Posting here in case someone is interested
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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Hi I'm literally BEGGING you to do a part II of the Drunk Byte with Sun?? He would be so motherly and exasperated with us
I freaking LOVED part I
Sun takes care of hungover Reader. Continued prompt from this post. Wordcount: 3200+
AO3 link (preferred if you comment!)
CW: Drinking mention, (1) puking instance and other typical syptoms of hangover. Nudity mention in a non-sexual situation (you eat soup while a nice hot bath, yay.) and some suggestive humor.
You wake up easy, with sunlight coming in through the blinds of your bedroom window leaving lines of light across your face, it's unlucky enough for you that one cast across your eyes and burns through your eyelids as you come to consiousness.
Eyes shut tight, your hand palms around your surroundings (you feel sheets, a blanket, your pillow) before grabbing the nearest one out from underneath something heavy and throwing it over your face.
It's a instictive reaction, quick and you're almost back to slumber when the thought process starts to churn in your mind: you didn't fall asleep in your bed last night, and you don't remember ever walking in here.
Sleep ignores that thought. Nausua, however, beats sleep back with a barbed stick and you sit up quickly, eyes flying open and all but blindlly scrambling upwards, over something gangly on the other side of the mattress and out of the bed.
There is a very surprised "oh dear" you hear coming from your bedroom as you run but you don't really catch it until you're kneeled over the toilet, eyes starting to wet as a sour feeling starts to boil and-oh, there you go. Yep. You're puking. You are definantly throwing up. Man, this was never pleasant.
Between the horrid noises and the inbetween on your still-groggy conciousness, footsteps approuch. You're finished (at least, you hope you are) as a hand comes to brush back across your forehead, and another settles on your back, running up your spine in a comforting rythem. "Guess you didn't see the bucket by the bed, did you?"
Turning your head, you squint at the yellow, smiling gangly thing through wet, blearly eyes. "Heuh?"
Sun's smile is soft, brightening the room. "Good morning!"
You open your mouth to speak, and then immediatly choke on trying to swallow back the rest of the nausea. "It is-" You cough, wiping your mouth with your sleeve. "I-It does not feel like a good morning."
"Well, we can work on that part." He's chipper, though a touch quieter than normal. A sorta-whisper yell under his usual volume, like he was purposly trying to be mindful of the potential headache you might be in route for. "All done? Do you need a minute."
You swallow. You feel gross. Terribly gross. "I'm- I'm done."
"Okay, now. Uppys-daisy, like so-" Hands underneath your arms, he lifts you gently into standing position, slowly enough so the movement doesn't make you dizzy. The toilet lid is put down, flushed and Sun lowers you to sit while the world spins. "Sit here. Good, there you go."
Honestly? You're not even fully awake. "I feel horrible."
There's amusement in his voice when Sun steps back. "Oh, I can tell!"
"Mean." You mummble, a soft tissue being pushed into your hand and you using it to wipe your face without missing a beat. "Rude."
He scoffs, plucking the tissue and throwing it in the waste basket. "I think 'rude' would be pulling out my pillow and then almost tripping over me while I was in the middle of a very good book!"
Your face scrunches up, only partially because the bathroom light is too bright for your incoming migraine. "Didn't have to be in the bed."
"Well, no." Sun tosses the tissue, leaning over to start running water in the skin. "But We like to be close by, and that was the comfiest spot!" He says, and your retort is silienced by him handing you a toothbrush, and a cap of mouthwash you were too groggy to see him pour. "Here, now. I don't know the experience but I've heard a lot of little ones complain about the taste."
You don't reject the offering, grabbing both items and not-complaining when you are guided to standing again so you can lean over the sink. "You still get sick ones in your classes?"
"Plenty! All the time. Often. They like to eat glitter glue when I'm not looking. Sometimes, parents drop them off with a fever." Sun smiles, his hand still resting on your back like he was afraid of you falling backwards. "We think you should stay home for the day, too."
You start the process of mouthwash, toothpaste, mouthwash and repeat. "M'not arguing."
"Sit tight." He bids you to stay, and you see his shape blur out of the corner of your eye out of the bathroom, the door cracked open in his absence.
It takes it's few runs but the taste goes away and your mouth feels infinatly cleaner than it did before. A breathe check and you're good to go, like the whole unpleasant experience never even happened. Your appereance, however, was a sight to behold in the mirror.
You're dishevielved, starting to feel a little grimy on your skin and still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Except your jacket was missing, and your shoes had been taken off. They never went past that, always lecturing about diginity and privacy if you were caught sleeping with your day clothes on.
You didn't mind it, but it's kinda hypocritcal when they're perfectly fine barging in when you're awake though. The nerf gun is probably still sitting loaded on the shower shelf. You can thank Moon for the need of that one.
You needed a shower, a change of clothes, and some food in your belly. Seriously. There felt like nothing in your stomach and it was not doing you any good for the hangover you were currently expereincing.
Turning on your heel, you seek out the door to find the kitchen (maybe stuff some shredded cheese in your mouth or something) but a taller form suddenly appears, blocking the exit. "Oh, feeling better?" Sun exclaims, something folded over his arms. You squint at what he's holding; a towel, and more comfortable, clean clothes. "Feel like coming and sitting at the table? Or would you rather take a shower first instead?"
You think about it for a long, hard moment. You're hungry, but you're also gross. A glance back towards the bathtub is very tempting, but the rumbling in your stomach is also persistant. "Give me a second. I'm trying to decide between food or hygine."
"You can have both." Sun offers, holding out the offerings of clean clothes and the towel. "Run a bath and I'll bring it to you, or slide it through the door. Whichever suits your fancy."
You groan. "Sounds like you're trying to spoil me."
"It's in our design!" His sunrays spin once, and lower with a smile. "...And we did just watch you upcheck a peanut butter sandwich."
Fair enough. You take the clothes and towel into your arms, throwing them on top of the counter and ushering him out with a wave of the hand. "Okay, get out. Shoo."
He salutes you in the doorframe. "Yell if you need me!"
There's pounding in your head when you lean over to turn on the faucet, so your response is a aknowledgment that comes out more like a zombie-fied groan.
There's a chuckle as the door softely shuts behind you, but you don't have the energy to call him out for it, and you start to undress. The water fills up to a comfortable level when you're done, tossing the dirty clothing in the corner (oh, Sun hates when you do that) and testing the tempature. It's hot, but just enough that you can comfortably sink into the water.
You just kinda....sit there.
The hot water is very nice. Muscle aches and preassure in your skull still lightly throbbed, but melted away a bit at the steam. You still felt hungry, dehydrated, and you didn't have the energy just yet to grab the soap and shampoo, but taking a deep breath helps the nausea disppate and help you finally start to wake all the way up.
At some point, you take the effort to pour a little body wash into the water around the faucet to hopefully start some bubbles, but they're scarce and don't really do much except make the water a bit cloudy. Welp. At least it smelled nice.
A knock on the door causes a small twinge of headache pain, but you muster out a answer to the waiting figure on the otherside. "Come in."
The door creaks open, two sunrays are peeking through the crack while a robot arm holding a soup bowl and spoon slowly come into view so carefully it's almost comicall. You fight back a snort as Sun's voice rings around the corner. "Delivery! I'm not looking, promise!"
"Hypocrite." You call outloud, and this time you don't hold back the snicker when the door opens wider, Sun fully walking into the bathroom with his head spun all the way around in some freakish 180 degree turn. How does he even walk straight looking backwards?
He manages, finding the floor next to the tub and sitting down on the floor mat. "It's the thought that matters! And I would like to remind you that I am holding some yummy soup that will maybe definatly hit the floor if you decided to use that terrible nerf gun on me!"
"I won't shoot you." You snort.
Sun's head rotates back around to his proper position, and smiles at you. "Oh good. I wouldn't have dropped the soup anyways." It's a coy, teasing grin sent your way as the bowl is set on the side of the bath. "Chicken soup is supposed to be good for this sort of thing. It's cool enough to hold, but still be careful."
"Yeah yeah-" You take a hold of the bowl, careful not to drop it in the bath (which, honestly, would have been hilarious) and take a tentive sip from the side, forgoing the spoon. It's hot, but not hot enough for the bowl to burn your hands. The broth and noodles go down very quickly, and you can feel your body start to pick up energy from the promise of something in your stomach. "Thank you for the soup."
Sun nods, pulling out something with his other hand, second hand going to his pants pocket. A glass of water you didn't even notice is set to the side, and your phone is pulled out from the fabric. You don't even ask, but grab and gulp the water in a frenzy of hungover dehydration as the animatronic taps your phone to life. "You got a missed call while I was making food."
"Oh, yeah?" You talk inbetween gulps, returning to your soup. It's nice to sink into the water and just drink from the bowl, really becoming one with the liquid here. "From who? What was it about?"
Sun looks up, quizzically. "Oh! Was I supposed to answer it?"
You slurp a noodle."If you want? I really don't mind."
"Reducing me to an answering machine, I see." He grins. You just slurp a noodle again, but this time obnoxiously louder. He taps a few buttons. "It's from your classmate, Brianna. Looks like she left you a message."
(Oh! So that's what her name was!)
He turns the phone towards you, handed out just not over the water so you could reach out to accsess the thread, but you flinch at the screen's brightness that burns your eyes. Your face must have twisted with your headache, because the phone is pulled away and Sun talks quieter, offering. "May I?"
You mean to say 'yes', but it comes out more like a grumbled zombie groan plagued with the start of a migraine.
"There's pain killers in the cabinet. I'll get them for you in a moment." Sun smiles, turning the phone back to himself and tapping to the message thread. A second passes where he scans the scree, and his smile stretches awkwardly. "Ah."
You blink. "What?"
His smile turns increasenly more nervous, hesitation in his voice as he starts his sentence off with a awkward laugh. "She, ah, asked how your-" Sun pauses like he was inwardly debating on the correct word. "-adventures with the....'sexy, tall, robot clown' went, last night."
You almost spit out your soup, swallowing the last gulp hard. "Oh my god."
"There's also some more...things she asked." Sun puts the phone face down on the floor. "And I, well, I do not think I can ask those outloud."
"Oh my god." You snort, and almost choke on a noodle so bad you're forced to lean over the side of the bath, set the near-empty bowl on the floor just so you can catch your breathe from the laughter that's bubbling up in your throat. "Oh my god, ha! That's-that's hilarious. Holy shit!"
"Well, I'm glad you found it funny!" Sun gasps, hand over his chest ands so shocked that he doesn't even scold you for the profainity. "I'm disturbed! Offended! You were drunk! What kind of robot do they think we are?!"
The laughter hurts your head, but you don't care at the moment. "A sexy one!"
He makes a noise that makes you laugh harder, and points accusatory to you. "You stop that!"
"Okay! Okay-" You take a deep breathe, calming youself. Partially because you don't want to be flustered yourself, and partially because you didn't want that nausea you've been keeping at bay to steadily creep back up to you. "Okay. I'm fine. It's fine now. But it's funny."
"What nosy, personal questions." Suns tuts, sliding the phone away from him. "I think I would have preferred answering your questions from last night instead."
Oh, man. You had actaully forgotten about that. "Hey-"
"Feel any better?" The change in topic is abrupt, but the shift in his smile from nervous to teasing is just as much whiplash. "Ready to get out yet? Or would you rather sit here for a while and pick-up where we left off last night?"
Your face sours, frowning at him and sinking into the water. "I'm dying. I'm dying in soup and you're going to mock me while I'm dying."
Without missing a beat, he stacks the dishes to the side, his other arm reaching back to pull the towel off the counter. "I'm sure you'd make for a tasty soup, but I'm afraid I'll have to save you for later."
You groan something incoherent at the joke, but quiet any retort you had ready unless you wanted to be met with the same wit. He helps you stand up, (turning his head away backwards again, though it's more out of respect than actaully avoidance by now) and you're wrapped in the towel and guided out of the tub by the time he picks up the dishes, the dirty clothes you left the corner and moves to the door.
He pauses in the doorway with upward turned eyes and a mischivious grin. "I'll be in the living room, unless you'd like some help-"
You throw the towel at him, to which Sun fake-screams at a super high pitch, dodges the projectile and darts out of view.
Something tells you that you were going to get teased about those questions for a long while.
The aches and nausea has disapated now that you were clean, relaxed and had something light in your stomach, so it's easier to get dressed in whatever he brought you. Lounge-wear, sweatpants and a t-shirt good enough for a lazy day. You pick up your phone off the tile before you forget it and flip it back over to face the screen.
It's still open on your classmate's message thread. Squinting as you turn down the brightness, you glance over the incoming texts and yeesh, oh man. Wow. Yeah, these were some very...interesting questions. But hey, it looks like she score a date with that bartender robot after all! Good for her.
It is with your almost horror, however, that Sun has accidently taken a close-up selfie of himself and sent it into the message thread with no further context, probably by accident. Robot fingers weren't the best to work with on touch screen phones. You can already see the chat bubble popping up for your classmate typing.
Probably best to avoid any misunderstanding. With a quick tap of your fingers, you send two pictures (one of a selfie of you and Sun from a previous date, another one you took of Moon and yourself during a movie night) and in your hungover state, try to give the brief explanation that it was in fact, a friend and roommate who picked you up last night, and that none of her previous questions apply.
You even ask her how her night with the bartender went to keep up the solid conversation, but her next message flat out ignores it and is typed in all caps.
The message reads: 'YOU HAVE TWO OF THEM??!?? 😳😳😳'
Actaully, you know what? Let's just back out of that message thread and make it a problem to deal with later.
Sun is in the living room just as he said he was, and he meets your gaze just as you flinch from all the light coming in from the balcony glass windows. He looks up at you from the couch, book in hand and meets your scrunched expression with a bright, chipper look. "You're looking brighter!"
Your reponse is a stuck-out tongue and a 'blegh'. "Where are those painkillers you talked about?"
"Here." He sits up, gesturing towards the coffee table so you walk about the sofa. A fresh glass of water and two small ibeprofen sit on a napkin waiting for you.
You snag it, downing them quickly and sighing as you place the now half-empty glass back down. "Great. Soon I'll only be half dying. Let me in. " With all the grace of a zombie, you flail your arm in Sun's direction until the animatronic, confused, arms are raised and you all but practically plop into his space, both of your legs resting on the rest of the couch. "Oof."
He's careful adjusting so you're inbetween his arms and resting on his chest, the book situated in front of you for his viewing while you shimmie your phone back out of your pocket and click on all the notifications you've missed. You bypass a couple of social media links, a news report and a couple of game notifcation as Sun hums. "How do you feel?"
"Better. Mostly." You scroll through your feed with mindless effort. "Did you add more games on my phone? My notifications are all stacked up."
Sun shys in on himself. "Perhaps."
You find the one most recently used, and it brings you to a higher level in a mobile game you've ever seen a human person do. "...Candy crush? You're a robot. It takes no effort to calculate the right move to win."
"I like the animations! Some of them look like Sundrops and Moondrops, too"
"I'm going to beat your high score."
"Then I'll watch." Sun speaks softely, and he's comfortable to lean into the crook between his torso and his arm, curled up with your phone close to your face on the lowest brightest setting and the shadow of his book protecting you from the light that shines in from the balcony.
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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Shake off that existential mood ‘cause it’s time for Wet Beast Wednesday!
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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Any AU: *sun and moon aren’t in love with y/n right away and sometimes are mean but in a ~ooh I’m just teasing~ way*
Me, sensitive and one bad happening away from tearing everything to shreds with nothing but my teeth and feral determination: pls be nice me
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panick-pixie · 2 years ago
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Any AU: *sun and moon aren’t in love with y/n right away and sometimes are mean but in a ~ooh I’m just teasing~ way*
Me, sensitive and one bad happening away from tearing everything to shreds with nothing but my teeth and feral determination: pls be nice me
383 notes · View notes