#Hollywood is trying to kill us

[allycat75]

Some advice in case you're feeling trendy and want to channel your inner influencer.

What you wanna bet two adults in a strange town suffering from such severe hangovers they felt they needed IV fluids to recover took these steps? I bet they are great parents!

[e-m-p-error]

MULTIMUSE QUESTIONAIRE

Tagging: @infernalight, @infernal-feminae, @heartsofhell, @questionablemuses, @because-i-simp, @frostworkxfiction, @deepspacevivarium, @hotelbitches, @voxiiferous

RULES: Answer the questions with the Muses that would best fit the answers. Bonus if you give details why. If tagged, copy and paste into a new post – DO NOT REBLOG!

1) Rank your softest Muse and your toughest Muse. (Personality-wise)

My softest muse is definitely Vick. He's a 0 on the toughness scale, he's a big teddy bear and he will choose kindness over anything else at any point.

My toughest muse is probably Barbie. Girl is tough as nails and will not be stopped if she puts her mind to something. She doesn't take pain as a reason to stop and will go harder when it hurts.

2) Which Muse would blow through $1000 quickly?

Valentino, hands down. He spends $1,000 every day easily on things he doesn't even need. He loves to buy expensive things and will do so at all hours. He especially loves spending Vox's money. $1,000 is a drop in the bucket for him and he doesn't even notice spending it.

3) Do any of them have nicknames? Is there a meaning behind them?

Quite a few of them do!

Valentino answers to Bunny from his lovers, it's a subspace trigger word for him. I assigned him Bunny because he's Cute And Horny, aka a rabbit, and a bunny sub is fairly common.

4) Are any of them up-to-speed on the latest trends? Anyone more old school?

Velvette, Vox, and Valentino are obsessed with always being on top of the next new thing.

Alastor hates new things and will fight them as much as he can.

5) Who has the best relationship with their siblings?

Valentino had a fairly good relationship with his siblings when he was alive. He had seven of them, plus three live-in cousins that were like his siblings.

6) Karaoke night! Who is likely to grab the mic first and bust out a tune?

Beelzebub, Ozzie, Valentino, and Ostello! They all love to sing and party, and they're all pretty good at it. Ostello was a pop-jazz singer when he was alive and before he died in Hell, too!

7) Who is least likely to enter a beauty pageant/model?

Gretchen. She doesn't think that she's very pretty, and would just feel embarrassed even going to watch.

Travis. He is constantly told he's very ugly, and he doesn't have a very high opinion of his looks.

8) If your Muses visited a haunted house where actors scare you, who would panic and who would be unfazed? 

Chazz, Gretchen, Charlie, Anya, Magpie, Summer, Travis, and Vick would be the easiest to scare!

Valore, Dimas, Cash, Glitz, Stu, Paimon, Alastor, Darío, Niffty, and Vox would be the hardest to phase.

9) Are any of your Muses particular about taking certain modes of transportation?

Vox prefers to be driven around and doesn't like driving himself.

Valentino only likes to drive occasionally and prefers pretty sports cars when he does.

Anya and Darío are motorcycle people.

Emily enjoys bicycles!

10) Share a little-known fact about any Muse.

Adam is actually a very good father and he loves kids and babies. He is very tender with children even if he can be harder on them once they have grown into adults.

[fratboykate]

Whether it’s already written or just an idea in your head, what would be the work of art that you want to be remembered by? Like if you went down into industry history, what do you want it to be for. Or maybe those are two different things

this is complicated because with the exception of VERY few cases people aren't remembered for ONE thing. it's typically a body of work. or at least a few highlights from a full body of work. that's my opinion at least.

for example, scorsese is not one of my favorite directors but i think it's undoubtable that he's an icon of cinema who will never be forgotten. but he won't be remembered because of one project. it'll be because he's scorsese and that legacy comes with both the good and the bad he's made. he'll also be remembered because he's become a champion and a voice of reason in terms of what cinema should be and stand for (truly...fuuuuuuuuuck marvel) in a time where a lot of filmmakers are afraid to say what they think to not rock the boat. i think the people who "go down in history" make work that is memorable and stand for something. they're more than the sums of their parts.

if i were to choose what i wanted to be remembered for it would be for my incessant fight for better latino/afro-latino rep in media and my desire to bring authentic queer stories into the genre space. im tired of sci-fi being a primarily white and straight medium being down by white and straight people. we're overdue for a takeover. if i can be part of the group that finally breaks through and am able to get a massive world-building show with a queer afro-latina lead out there then i'd be happy as hell with what i did with my life and this difficult career i chose. BUT - and i've been telling y'all this for a while - the more i see the industry devolve the more doubtful i become of that happening.

this article came out this week and truly, it's bleak out here. it's going to get a lot worse before it MAYBE gets better.

the straight white men in charge are going to systematically erase us because we're not "cool" anymore. diversity was trendy for a few years but now diversity is "controversial". they're going to greenlight fifty more "yellowstones" and ignore stories about minorities because the industry has now decided they want to cater to "middle america". whatever the fuck that means. i personally heard the shift in every meeting i took this year and it got progressively worse as the strike approached. it's not like non-bigots are the majority. they've simply decided we don't matter anymore. the diversity "fad" is over. they're going to go for straight and white because that's safe. they might hire actors of color to be the face of a show here and there but the shows are still going to be written by white people and it's going to be a white character but in the body of a person of color. or they're going to hire the rare creator of color to still appear like they're diverse but then gut their work. studios have done that to shows i've sold them more than once. they sanitize the ideas to the point where characters end up being shadows of what they once were. i write shows for people of color with women of color as the driving force. they turn those shows into series for white people that just happen to have a bastardization of a women of color as a lead.

92% of execs in this industry are white. they're the people killing the quality of all the shows. im digging up one of the best threads i've read during the strike because it communicates how shows these days aren't bad because of writers. they're bad because execs rule now and the vast majority of them are mediocre white people who are terrible at their fucking jobs. y'all have NO IDEA the shit we deal with every day.

true story: im a queer afro-latina woman. every show or film ive ever sold has a queer afro-latina woman as a lead. MORE THAN ONCE...truly soooo many times...have i sat in a notes meeting with 5-7 straight white execs staring back at me and telling me that my characters aren't "authentic enough". then they start giving notes that make everything literally worse. straight white people have, hand on fucking heart, given me notes on how to make a queer latina "better". with a straight face. fuck off and get out of my way. but they don't. they insist you make the changes, ruin your shit, and two years of free work later kill your project before it ever sees the light of day. that's the reality of being in this business and wanting to make content about queer people or people of color. its not that we're "out of ideas" it's that they're ruining the ideas and then not buying them after they string us along for the ride for a few years of development.

so...im going to keep fighting the fight in hopes that i'll someday get to make something i can even be remembered for. but those hopes dwindle every day because the industry has no desire to make what i want to make anymore. for the next few years they're going to produce more average white people shit like "yellowstone", "virgin river", "jack ryan", and "emily in paris" and expect all of you to tune in. and you will. so nothing will change. they'll have no incentive to change it.

[capricornsicle]

something something the villain of the season (the one about how fear can give way to extremism if you're not careful and how easy it is for many, many people to become radicalized by one person's radical hate and how genocide is a bad thing actually regardless of whether individuals of the targeted group have themselves done terrible things) being a black woman who survived an incident of indiscriminate mass murder is perhaps. not the best idea considering the themes involved

[quasi-normalcy]

It's actually really frightening to see officially sanctioned genocide denial rise up in Western countries in real time. Like, I remember 20 years ago hearing about how it was illegal in Turkey to point out that the Armenian Genocide happened, and how I thought that that was fucking evil and oppressive. Now here we are, with a campaign in Gaza that experts have called 'a textbook case of genocide', for which the UN Human Rights counsel has determined there are "reasonable grounds" to call it genocide, and the US Congress is trying to make it illegal to criticize Israel. We have Hollywood agencies refusing to represent anyone who points out that a genocide is currently taking place. And it's just the same shit from a fresh asshole as we got from the Turkish government over what happened in Armenia in the 1920s, like "Oh yes, there were killings, but...calling it genocide? Ohhhh, you must be very hateful to our poor little nation to think that our people are capable of that 😢 😭!" Fuck off.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Wish (2023) dir. Fawn Veerasunthorn, Chris Buck

hey do you think the overworked creatives about to go on strike are trying to tell us something

article sources under the cut

Mattson, Kelcie. "How Disney Almost Killed 'Nimona.'" Collider, January 2 2024.

Earl, William. "Shelving Batgirl Was the Right Decision, Says New DC Studios Head Peter Safran: 'It Would Have Hurt DC.'" Variety, January 31 2023

Couch, Aaron. "Warner Bros. Reverses Course on 'Coyote vs. Acme' After Filmmakers Rebel." The Hollywood Reporter, November 13 2023.

Ridgely, Charlie. "Scoob! Sequel Director Revealed Film Was 'Very Close' to Completion Before HBO Max Cancellation." comicbook.com, August 2 2022.

Clark, Travis. "Staffers at the animation studio Blue Sky say it's 'heartbreaking' that Disney canceled its final movie, 'Nimona.'" Business Insider, February 18, 2021.

Harrison, Mark. "Why was the Batgirl movie cancelled?" Yahoo! Entertainment, January 31 2024.

Amidi, Amid. "Warner Bros. Shelves Fully-Completed 'Coyote Vs. Acme' For Tax Write-Off." Cartoon Brew, November 9 2023.

Lee, Alex. "Why Netflix keeps cancelling your favourite shows after two seasons." Wired UK, September 28 2020.

Tyrrell, Gary. "We All Knew It Was Coming." fleen.com, February 10 2021.

"Warner Bros. Reverses Course on ‘Coyote vs. Acme’ After Filmmakers Rebel." see: 3.

Bergeson, Samantha. "Warner Bros. Will Let 'Coyote Vs. Acme' Filmmakers Shop Movie to Other Distributors." IndieWire, November 13 2023.

Strapagiel, Lauren. "Disney's First Feature Animated Movie With Queer Leads May Never Be Released." BuzzfeedNews, February 24 2021.

"We All Knew It Was Coming." see: 9

@/scottderrickson. "I think it’s absolute bullshit that a studio can and does shelve the creative work of hundreds of people for a fucking tax break." Twitter, 10 Nov. 2023, 4:52 p.m..

[strawberry-miiiiiiiiiiiilk]

sitting in my room for a half hour thinking about how if we lived in a better world Ada Wong would be the Ilsa Faust of Resident Evil (primarily in how she's introduced in Rogue Nation), with a dynamic to leon not unlike Fujiko Mine's and Lupin's in which they are both extremely competent and in situations in which they may have to work against and occasionally with each other on a mission, but ultimately are forced to stay apart and while they may be apart and even have different love interests from each other, ultimately still care deeply for one another. They are compelled to go after each other in part because it's so difficult and they are so often in circumstances in which they can't be with each other. The thrill of the chase and all that.

Ada being only tangentially related to the other character's stories because the world is simply larger than them and she has her own concerns and problems to deal with, and to have that be given any care or weight in a story, let alone focus. That she can be cunning and even manipulative but because she needs to and will still choose not to when the chips are down because she is genuinely caring--which I know none of that is new ground for her but I wish it was done in a more interesting way and *without leon at all*. She chooses to show mercy in a key point not because she's in love with that other character.

And also that she has more personality. I dig the subdued nature of her in 4r and her subtle sarcasm but it's just crumbs. I want her to be silly on occasion and say dumb jokes because she's alone like in 2r. I want her to shed a bit of that seriousness when she's on the clock because she's confident in herself as a professional and again has no one to put up a façade to.

It's honestly kinda embarrassing reading this back as I realize most of what I'm writing is not only already present in the games but incredibly tropey in and of itself, and wouldn't improve the character much. Dear god I think too much of my view of the character has been marred by shallow fanworks depicting her. I think if anything it's a sign that:

I'm a shit writer and need to do way more than watch movies and gesture vaguely at them to come up w a decent story or character (that being said as much as I prefer Fallout as a film, I stand by my earlier statement of Ilsa Faust being the ideal spy woman as she's depicted in Rogue Nation as she has a distinct set of goals and needs that are complex and developed largely tangentially to the protagonist's, at least initially).

It's going to take a completely new approach to her character to get something remotely interesting and that takes advantage of her potential.

For as mired in tropes as she and every other character and story in Resident Evil is, Ada could be far more memorable and enjoyable if only there was more care and effort to giver at least some interests and goals (perhaps even...characterization) on her own other than being a sexy love interest and potentially traitorous (as so many femme fatales already are).

[marzipanandminutiae]

I feel like a more useful phrase for encompassing how Hollywood's Corsets Are Evil attitude underestimates women's intelligence, as opposed to "would we have worn something like them for 500 years if they weren't comfortable?" is

"would the vast majority of us have worn something like them for 500 years if they were absolute torture devices in 100% of use cases?"

would we have worn them if they weren't comfortable? just as a blanket statement with no further modifiers...yes. I've been watching deep dives on lip fillers while I sew this morning. people will ABSOLUTELY do things that are not only uncomfortable but outright dangerous, for beauty

however

"the vast majority" is a key difference here. most women don't get lip fillers, especially not to the point of looking cartoonish. most of us, regardless of gender, look at that and cringe. corsets were worn with the ubiquity of bras, and I cannot emphasize that enough. so it's hardly the same thing

and as for comfort...well, that's a moving target. I can't say "X garment is comfortable" and leave it at that, because different people find comfort in different things. and we all have different bodies, to boot. I don't find stiletto heels comfortable, and most people agree with me on that. I also don't find sweatpants comfortable, though- they're mostly polyester and therefore overly warm to me, and they make me mentally uncomfortable to wear because they're so far outside of what makes me feel happy and confident

and anyway, the media isn't saying that corsets were UncomfyTM. that's not engaging with the actual message. they're saying corsets were TORTURE. that they made women faint all the time! that they killed us! that they broke ribs and chafed us bloody! and that they did all of this regardless of how one wore them, because this is just How Corsets Always Work!

which is...demonstrably not true. some women did tightlace. that cannot be denied and I wouldn't try to. but go back to the filler situation- it's not everyone. and even some women who were willing to put up with tightlacing for special occasions wouldn't do it every day. some brides wear Spanx for their weddings now, who wouldn't touch the stuff 99% of the time

would it have happened, period, if it wasn't comfortable? yes, easily. but that's the wrong question

would it have been as ubiquitous as wearing a bra is today if it were a hellish pain-nightmare across the board? absolutely not

[changeling-droneco]

Hi I'm that person who made the original post about "no doesn mean no" when a small bit of the mr beast company document was leaked, well, now we have the full document (thanks rosanna) so I'm going to go over it. Please note I am not a lawyer or a business man, I'm in college for psychology, so I might misunderstand some things or make the wrong conclusion. However, if this is a document made for the average mr. beast employee, if I cannot understand it properly, then im sure some employees also struggled

First of all, the opening paragraph. Like I get it's supposed to be like, to put people at ease, but

This is so strange? Like, first of all, this is your EMPLOYEE MANUAL, you should have run it through like, a spell check? Or had someone edit it? This is already incredibly unprofessional. Also the promising of a thousand dollars if you pass a quiz on it? It's bizarre and I'd love to see if it's an actual quiz.

Jimmy, hun, please god get an editor for this you're already trying my patience.

YOU SHOULD, you genuinely should, while interconnected these are all COMPLETELY different jobs, if you think you could write a separate manual for each branch you SHOULD

I'm sure I'm about to get an answer but what the fuck is the best YOUTUBE video then? If it's not comedy, its not production, its not quality, its not look, then what the hell is left? (monetization, it's monetization)

First of all, Jimmy, why are you using internet lingo in this, it's not a text message, this is not a place for, idc, and lol, and not capitalizing your headers correctly??? Also like I said, he's chasing trends for monetization, and also he's just wrong, there are plenty of hollywood level shows and the like on youtube. You fully admit you do not care about trends and actively rush things?

This is just fucked??? Like of COURSE IT MATTERS??? Results based company is bullshit, your employees that worked for five weeks and failed aren't "lesser" then James, it's a structural failure! They still worked for HOURS to try and succeed?? That shows merit and loyalty??? What the fuck???

Rosanna covers this one in her video but it's worth restating that this is FUCKED??? It's clear overwork "your job is your family" culture. Especially the use of the word obsessive? If you do not OBSESS over your work, you are considered poisonous. NO WONDER we have so many reports of employees doing things they feel is dangerous or unsafe, if they don't they're considered POISON to the company.

The formatting in this doc continues to fucking kill me, what are you DOING man GET AN EDITOR

This feels like such an easy fix of just...make the thumbnail after the fact? Or only make a rough draft of one first? Like if production makes a red bouncy castle instead of a yellow one, that feels like an easy fix to the thumbnail OR a communication error, and again, that's on management

A lot of the next stuff is like analytics stuff that for the most part I can't really speak on as someone who does not do any of this stuff. There are a few things though

Which like???? what??? a lull??? what do you mean "watching a video without even realizing they are watching a video??" That doesn't scream good or even mediocre content to me. If I'm actively tuning out as I watch a video, that's bad. Especially because there have been plenty of times I've been like half way through a video i go "hey this sucks actually" and click off. They actively want their audience to not be paying attention to the video so it runs all the way through, that's kinda pathetic.

I don't actually know if this is common or not in this industry, but as an outsider this seems INCREDIBLY micromanaging to me, to an immense degree.

Jimmy why are you putting swears in your employee manual?? sir??? and also something about this whole thing icks me out, I don't quite have the words but the whole emphasis on "im different im special no one else can be me" just reeks of something kind of manipulative

Why is production changing so much Jimmy??? Infinite growth is the mindset of a cancer cell Jimmy! This is incredibly unstable working conditions! Also again with the word obsession, if you take time out of your own day on your own time to watch hulu, that's seen as not being obsessed enough for the company. This is nonsensical!

Again, this is INSANELY micromanaging, and also so fucking unhinged??? "God himself couldn't stop you from making this video on time" is NOT a healthy work mindset, things HAPPEN!!!

In this segment he's actually talking normal things but I did just want to highlight his use of "freaken" who the hell puts that in an EMPLOYEE MANUEL

Again with the micromanaging, and the immense pressure on employees for problems OTHER people do. While he's not fully wrong that you should be in more contact with the contractor then the example, this is too much in the other direction. How much time in the day does he think people have?!

My kingdom for a fucking paragraph break dude, my fucking eyes. Also this is a lot of "im so great and do everything and you should do more for me and if i dont know something that's your fault" for something titled "I am not always right"

I'm getting lazy with my highlighting, but again, the micromanaging? If you're SOOO busy, the first question should be the ideal? it's quick and makes a quick decision, while the second one meanders and meanders

Again, Jimmy is pushing blame for HIS mistakes on OTHER PEOPLE. For again, a section called "i am not always right" hes taking NO accountability for that and just making the SAME excuses he's berating in other places.

I can't even tell what he means here AN EDITOR JIMMY

Autism Hell tm, PLEASE email me so I can DOUBLE CHECK IT, things in writing are SO useful

Again the language towards "C-Players" which as mr beast has said, are the people who y'know, are NORMAL employees who DON'T live and breathe this company

Okay first of all, a Lamborghini is like 300k so that's already A REALLY hard task, and i sure hope don't usually put typos in the tasks. SECOND of all the fact he thinks its okay to go "hey if the studio is literally on fire around you and you stop working to get the Lamborghini, you're not doing good enough" even if he claims it as a joke is NOT OKAY what the FUCK

We've covered this before, but to reiterate this segment is named after a sexual assault reference when it could have been named ANYTHING ELSE and harasses employees and pressures them to break rules, don't do that.

I'm not an editor, so maybe this is normal, but as someone from the outside it seems strange to put this much emphasis on dividing focus between so many videos at once.

Jimmy, hun, are you paying extra for this? Because if I'm an editor and you want me FILMING stuff then i want to be paid more for doing TWO jobs and I probably still wont be as skilled a TRAINED CAMERA MAN

First of all now THAT'S a type, consteatants. Also the fact they are aware that leaving contestants out in the sun is bad, why are you not doing MORE TO STOP IT BEYOND "hey maybe giving them three hours of heatstroke is bad, try only two next time"

Don't we love favoritism, more shitty unprofessional writings, and a completely unstable work environment?

If your people have to pull all nighters period something is wrong, and if something happens to an employees car that could have seriously hurt someone, i sure hope you care more then just "LOL FUNNY" Who's picking up the broken glass? Who's reimbursing the car owner? That one meme of "your first care should be commitment to the bit" is a MEME jimmy, it's not ACTUAL ADVICE

Ah shit I hit image limit, well, you've seen enough screenshots to know these are screenshots, we're almost done I'll put them in as quotes

"Let’s say you are tasked with finding us a castle to live in for 50 hours and while doing research you find a castle and a number to call for the owner. So you do call, and he answers. Only problem is he says he quit the castle renting business to pursue his dream of building a 100 foot tall lego catapult. You can obviously tell where i’m going with this. Ideally you’d recognize that’s badass as fuck and try to convince him to let us use it when we do find a castle. This is a bad example because it’s so obvious but if you’re doing your job right you will be doing an absurd amounts of calls and data collecting. While trying to complete your prios and prepare for the video you should always be on the lookout for new things you can bring to your creative team to inspire them. Because just like me, they don’t know what they don’t know and you can’t just say “i’m in production and i’m not very creative” because that’s literally the equivalent of saying I suck at what I do. You also need to apply this same mindset when problem solving because many people lose sight of this stuff when in the weeds. If a problem appears, always always always ask yourself if your new plan is whats best for creative, not just the easiest bandaid."

First of all it's really funny seeing all the red lines pop up, second of all this insistent blurring of everyone's job seems so strange? Again maybe this is normal, but it really feels like Jimmy wants everyone working every job, instead on focusing on what they are actually hired to do.

"What is the goal of our content?

To excite me. The goal of our content is to excite me. That may sound weird to some of you, especially if you’re new but to me it’s what’s most important. If I'm not excited to get in front of that camera and film the video, it’s just simply not going to happen."

That's fucking weirddddd, like I get that he's trying to be like "im authentic" but it always feels like a bad sign when the goal of a company is literally just "What amuses the boss" like...bad sign

"this is youtube and there are constraints. You know the video can’t be a minute so you’re obviously going to need a story to hold the viewers and there are rules to storytelling. Our audience is massive and because of that you have to be simple, for 50 million people to understand something it must be simple. Content can be anything but there is structure and rules that we must mold it into that I want to teach you about, because virality doesn’t just happen. Every frame of our videos will be seen by 10s of millions of people"

Gross

"I'd say the average MrBeast viewer is a teenage memer that likes video games."

Mr Beast is completely aware of his demographic and puts screen shots of it, he is very aware his stuff is aimed at kids, even when its about gambling or hiring people not around near minors

"I feel silly for having to write this but all the time I talk to 32 new people that have at most seen like 5 or 6 of our videos and it’s mind blowing that they don’t see a problem with that lol."

It's almost like your audience is teenage memer and that people who working here are not in fact, teenage memers.

"What you consume on social media, when you watch youtube, tv, the games you play, etc. are what I like to call your information diet.

How do you stay up to date on the latest memes? How do you know what’s going on with celebrities? What’s trending on youtube? What other creators are doing? What’s popping on tik tok? Your information diet. Consume things on a daily basis that help you write better content."

If my job as a creative writer had my boss tell me to have to see whats "popping on tik tok" as part of my job i'd quit also again, the micromanaging of someone's life as well pops up again, it's weirddd

"It’s okay for the boys to be childish

If talent wants to draw a dick on the white board in the video or do something stupid, let them. (assuming they know all the risks and arn’t missing context on why it’s not safe) People like when we are in our natural element of stupidity. Really do everything you can to empower the boys when filming and help them make content. Help them be idiots"

More favoritism

"If you’ve made it this far you are probably at least semi interested in this being your career. So I wanted to chat about it. Because if you're ambitious and want to dedicate your life to work, you picked the best company in America to do it at. I really don’t care to hoard a bunch of money and I deeply believe in rewarding the people that help this business get where it needs to be. But before I get into that, let’s talk about the future. As I write this we have 2 teams, that will grow to 4 in the next year. (and possibly 8 in the next 2 years but I can’t talk about that cause james will kill me haha). We need more leaders in the company. Weneed hard working, obsessive, coachable, intelligent, grinders that can step up and take some of these leadership spots over the next 2 years. Every single department has an opportunity for you to grow in and you’re in luck because we don’t do yearly reviews. We do whenever the fuck you want reviewes"

Lack of communication from management, and more emphasis on grinding and crunch culture, goodie, all while riddled with typos! God.

"I see a world where this company is worth billions and one day 10s of billions. And those of you that help build this will be rewarded. I want nothing more then for you to go all in, obsessive all day everyday, and become so god dam valuable this company can’t operate without you. And in return for becoming so valuable I hope to give you incredible experiences, a fun place to work, and of course, more money then you could ever dream of making at any other company."

I feel like I'm reading a fucking pyramid scheme document here, "youre so so valuable spend literally every minute of every day on this company haha" good GOD man

[moonlight-prose]

RIGHT WHERE YOU LEFT ME

➛ 01. IN DREAMS WE REST

a/n: i've been stressed about this fic probably more than any other i've ever written. not because it's logan per se, but because wade wilson makes me want to rip my hair out. i love that bastard, but writing him feels like pulling teeth. i'm in love with this concept solely for the angst, so if you see more throughout and wonder if they will ever get a happy ending, please know i'm dead inside. enjoy!

summary: stuck in another universe and unsure of where he stands, logan expects things to even out as they always did. but when you cross his path and you have no idea who he is, he's in for a rude awakening.

word count: 5.9k+

pairing: logan howlett x f!reader

warnings: not explicit, wade wilson breaking the fourth wall, angst, cussing so much cussing, alcohol consumption, grief, pain, a broken man pretending he's not broken, chance encounters, awkward conversations, hope.

NEXT CHAPTER | SERIES MASTERLIST

He can hear it when he sleeps.

Their screams.

The constant ring of agony that chimes out like a bell, an alarm he never set for himself. A joke once told to him in the midst of World War II, as bullets flew by him and soldiers lost their lives each second of each day. There's no escape from hell. No running from the devil that nipped at his heels the faster he went, the longer he tried to navigate a way free.

There's no escape from the memories that ate away in his mind. Multitudes of them, of the faces he once called family, the people he used to love. They were his punishment. The boulder he continued to roll up the hill, day after day after day. Until eventually...he was crushed by his own self-hatred.

"Logan." The voice whispered long enough for him to grasp who it might be, yet never louder than a mere breath of air.

He clung to it some days. Sunk his claws into what little of his past remained good and allowed it to fill him with some amount of peace. At least then he'd be able to bear this weight, this grief he could never quite name.

Something light brushed across his cheek. Tickling the skin enough to send a flare of irritation down his spine, but the dreams held him in their grasp. What came next never surprised him. He expected it at this point—longed for it. The distant pain of losing what once made him whole; the entirety of his life now defined by one single moment he could never change.

"He sleeps so sweetly. I just want to curl up in his arms and have him read me bedtime stories."

"He's not gonna like that when he wakes up."

"Zip it Al. If I wanted an opinion, I'd go see a Hollywood therapist."

A scoff echoed in the background. "No therapist wants you on their couch."

"Not true. I hear Ryan Reynolds has a great one."

"Who?"

"Not the point." The feather dusted across Logan's face again, soft enough to keep him asleep yet annoying enough to bring a smile to Wade's face. "I wonder if he's dreaming about killing bad guys. They say it's good for the soul."

"Who the fuck is they?"

Wade laughed. "Oh you know. Them. The readers. And boy howdy do they love their blood."

Every day he was forced to listen to Wade's voice became another day Logan dragged his claw through a tally mark of his sanity. "Do you ever shut the fuck up," he growled, gripping Wade's wrist until he heard the satisfying crack of bones.

"Only when I swallow."

"I'll tear your fuckin' arm off."

The smile on Wade’s face only added another tally. "Nice kitty. No need for the claws."

Anger washed across his skin in a familiar wave as he released Wade's arm, watching it go limp. Trying to kill the unkillable walking irritation was like trying to swat a fly that never quite died. It still buzzed incessantly. Until eventually madness was the only viable option of dealing with it. In his case, he seemed to be driving head on with no brakes.

Logan wasn't sure he possessed enough sanity left within him to keep dealing with this. Sleeping on the couch didn't help the way his body never rested; always stuck in that permanent fighting mode. He'd give anything to find some peace. A small sliver of it carved off the past that continued to call him—that begged him to come back and try again.

Swinging his legs off the couch, he planted a swift kick to Wade's chest that sent him across the floor. The lack of caffeine in his system left everything hazy and half coherent. If he focused he might have caught the keys thrown at him, but being exhausted and sober didn't make for a good combination with him. An empty whiskey bottle lay discarded on the floor from last night; the memories of how he passed out barely tinged on the edge of his mind.

He could recall stabbing Wade in the leg.

Nothing beyond that.

Dried blood—now an ugly brown—stained his white shirt. He nearly stripped himself of it, prepared to throw it in with whoever was washing next, but his flannel being chucked at his head caught him off guard.

"Fuck off," he snapped, stumbling to the kitchen.

Wade sighed, following him. "Get dressed, peanut. We have to go do human things today."

"Human–”

"Food," Al retorted. "We're out."

Even in a new universe, he couldn't see himself acting normal. For so long he did what had to in order to survive. Yet now...he wasn't so sure. Accompanying Wade Wilson in order to complete household chores left a bad taste in his mouth. But the thought of fresh coffee and an unopened bottle of whiskey sounded like sweet silver bells in his head.

With reluctance, he buttoned up half of the flannel before he became annoyed with the small size of the holes punched into the fabric. There was only so much he could do with the life he had now. And sometimes shit really sucked.

"Don't scratch my fucking car," Al pointed her words towards Wade, thankfully ignoring Logan's existence for a brief moment.

"Is it safe for her to own a car?"

The door shut behind him with a bang, echoing down the vacant hallway. He was surprised people actually lived here given Wade's antics. They could hear the loud mouthed fucker across the street—if the angry notes in the mail were anything to go by. He didn't bother asking if he should be concerned with any of it. Not when he had no say in how the house was run. And choosing to insert himself where he wasn’t needed, rarely went well for him.

"God no. But I give her the benefit of the doubt. She hasn't killed anyone. Yet."

He yanked the keys out of Wade's hand. "Yeah well I don't trust you either Bub."

The car didn't leave room for his legs as he squeezed into the driver's side. His body practically folded in half as he turned it over—the rumble of the engine rattling against metal. How Blind Al managed to pay for this vehicle went beyond even Wade's knowledge, and in all honesty…he was too fucking scared to ask.

Too much seemed to be happening for him to ever catch up. While this Earth felt similar to his, small things were different. And when they began to add up...he began to wonder if he was drowning.

"Turn left to merge onto the asscrack of traffic."

He barely heard the directions as he drove, his mind drifting the further they went. Part of him sensed the grief from earlier begin to claw up the back of his throat. It begged him to fall, to be swallowed whole by the darkness he'd been stuck in before. And he nearly gave in; could feel his body shift into its constant mode of fight or flight.

The steering wheel cracked under his white knuckled grip as Wade's voice became an afterthought to the war he fought in his mind. Terror trapped itself in his throat and he slammed his foot on the brakes a foot away from a parking spot in retaliation. The car lurched forward, his claws descended. A snarl rumbled in his chest the longer he sat there thinking.

"Woah..." For the first time in days, Wade fell silent. "You alright?"

Logan ripped himself free, shoving his body out of the car before he even threw it in park. He gulped in breath after breath and did his best to wait for this fucking feeling to leave his system. The nightmares only came as he slept. A constant familiar horror show after two centuries.

Yet now he was left like this. Leaned up against a car, his eyes closed shut, and heart racing.

All because he couldn't do his fucking job.

"Logan–"

He snapped, shoving past Wade and his pity that choked him with a vengeance. He didn't deserve anyone's pity. He didn't want it. But people couldn't help but hand it over unconsciously. As if they could see the layers of broken pieces beneath his false expression of strength. Logan never pretended to be okay. Why bother with something people could see right through?

He merely wanted others to ignore he was there. Walk past him, look through him, do whatever it took to pretend that him and all his tragedies weren't standing before them. Because one day he would die and fuck how he couldn't wait for that time to come.

A small hole in the wall dive bar sat in the corner of the shopping center. He barely caught sight of it. But the unmistakable scent of alcohol poured out the door as someone stumbled out—their eyes squeezed shut against the harsh brightness of the sun. He could understand them in a way.

His world didn't have sunlight this bright. Or perhaps he never noticed it ‘til now.

Maybe his body wasn't acclimated yet; unsure of what the fuck was still happening. Everything seemed to be turned up to eleven for him, yet no off switch existed.

The dark hazy glow of the interior sent a wave of calm through him as the door swung shut with a soft thud. Four people sat scattered around the place and a bartender with white and graying hair stood cleaning a glass so foggy it was probably better to throw it out. He found himself letting out a breath that'd been trapped in his chest since that morning. Finally some peace before he had to listen to Wade yap about bullshit he didn't in fact give a shit about.

"What'll you have?" the old man asked, his face screwing up in a wince as he limped towards Logan's spot at the end of the bar.

A quick glance down let him see the brace wrapped around the man's knee. "Whiskey on the rocks."

He nodded, slowly heading towards the center of the wall—a lonesome half empty bottle of Jack Daniels on the counter. Logan shifted, taking the center seat directly behind the man.

"I can't say I've seen you around before son."

He grinned, his finger tracing a random carving that'd been placed in the wood. "I just moved here. Living with a coworker."

"Coworker huh?"

The word didn't sound right to Logan, but he couldn't exactly call Wade his friend. Although they were more than people who fought together, more than men who shared blood during the same battle. That was the thing about Logan though. He'd never be able to put a label on something like that. To him...things weren't one or the other as much as he wanted to pretend they were. There was nuance to his life.

Complications which made living that much harder.

The man turned, surprised to see Logan so close, but didn't make note of it. Logan could see the gratitude in the way his drink was slid carefully to him. The small silent thank you in the bowl of pretzels placed beside it.

"You look lost."

Logan grunted, biting into the salty and dry snack. "Do I?"

"More than some of the others that come around here."

"And who comes around here?"

The man laughed. "No one as of late. You're the first young man I've seen in a while walk through those doors."

He bit back his laugh at the word young. The stories he could tell would leave the man baffled. About wars that no living person had witnessed. About when the world was far different than today—when mutants were freaks of nature and humans were far less forgiving. He could list it all and then some.

But whether or not someone would listen was another thing entirely.

"This place that old?" he inquired, sipping on the amber liquid with a contented sigh.

"Oh you bet." A weary laugh filled the space. "I bought this place in the sixties. When my wife was still my girlfriend. She almost left me because of it."

Logan huffed, his lips curling slightly. "She wasn't a fan?"

The man shook his head, tossing a cloth over his shoulder. "Still isn't. Well she...wasn't." He pressed his thumb to the worn gold band on his left hand. "When she was alive she used to host a book night. Helped bring in the men's wives. Kept them outta trouble."

"Book night huh?"

"She loved to read."

Before he could down the final sips of his drink it was topped off. Logan nodded his head in thanks, his thumb digging into the thumbprint shape of the glass. If he thought about it hard enough, he could almost see himself coming here every night. He pictured a life far different than his own, a past where he might have been happy. With someone who might have even made him smile.

"I'm not much of a reader," he replied, his voice hoarse and eyes fixed on the ice that floated to the surface.

"Ah me too," the man laughed. "I just liked seeing her smile."

A soft remark was on the tip of his tongue before an entirely new image began to take shape. The face of someone lost. Of a smile he'd known better than his own. Hands that once held his face with the tenderness of a lover—a voice that sent the hair rising on the back of his neck. He could see it as clear as he did the man.

You in all your beauty. Lost to a past he could no longer rectify.

He swallowed thickly, beating back every emotion that crawled under his skin. "What's your name?"

"Travis."

Raising his glass, he tipped it towards the man with a tight grin. "Logan." The alcohol went down with a quick and biting burn. A feeling he'd grown familiar with. One he counted on.

"Nice to meet you Logan."

"Yeah you too."

He dug out some cash and tossed it on the bar as he stood with a slight grunt. He may heal quickly but the ache in his bones still existed. As if something resisted against how his body moved with each slow shift.

Fighting meant he could ignore it.

Existing is what made it worse.

The sun practically burned his eyes when he stepped out, the heat of the day encompassing his whole body quicker than he would have liked. For some unknown fucking reason, summer here felt worse than on his Earth. Then again the alcohol didn't help. He stood in the shade of the building next to the bar, searching the parking lot for any sign of Wade.

Going into the store wasn't an option and as much as he wanted to leave the annoyance behind, he didn't want to feel like a piece of shit. That is...even more than he already did.

"Fuck," he hissed, leaning against the brick wall. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

One option would be taking a walk to work off the energy that ran through his veins. At least then he'd be able to sleep at night. And the temptation almost worked. If it weren't for the shop doors that opened to his left, effectively distracting him from the chance of leaving. He could have ignored the person, probably should have given everything he'd been through.

But then his heart dropped to his stomach as you walked out. He'd never seen you in such a soft sundress before, the off white fabric draped off your curves in a way that floored him. As if you were an angel floating by without a care in the world. You were busy shoving a small piece of paper in your purse, your face furrowed in frustration, and Logan smiled. Because he'd traced each line of that face before, he'd kissed those cheeks, your eyelids as you slept.

He'd loved you in ways that would scare a normal human.

And there you were.

"Honey?" he called, unconsciously following you quicker than he intended to. "Honey."

You glanced to the side, completely unaware of the giant lumbering man trailing after you with a soft look on his face and hope in his hands.

That alone tore him in two more than the memories from before.

"Baby, it's me."

The breeze finally went through the air, pushing the skirt of your dress a bit higher on your thighs. Except that's not what he latched onto. Your scent was different. Unlike any he'd encountered before. Honey still sweetly caressed his senses, but flowers overlayed that—peonies if he guessed. Delicious enough to have his mouth watering; his body already aching for you to be closer. To look at him in the way you used to.

He wanted to call out to you—gain your attention properly—but your name wouldn't leave his tongue. Because you were there and you finally caught sight of him and you were looking at him as if nothing bad ever happened between the two of you.

You saw him as a man.

Not a disappointment.

He willed himself to stop and breathe. Take in his surroundings; realize that you weren't who he once knew. You weren't even the same fucking person.

But before he could think straight, he'd already followed you halfway to your car. His eyes were dazed, heart nearly throttling him alive as he stood there dumbly. Waiting for you to finally speak.

"Oh..." Your heart rate spiked quicker than he expected. He couldn't find it in himself to feel bad though. "Hello?"

"Honey," he sighed, the weight on his shoulders lifting ever so slightly.

He caught the way your fingers tightened around your keys, the defense mechanism an instinct by now. And Logan realized what he looked like. A strange man standing too close for your liking. So he took a step back and gave you some space. In the hopes that you wouldn't see him as a threat. That maybe...you'd listen to what he had to say.

"Can I help you?" you asked, eyes darting around the parking lot in case you needed help.

What he wouldn't give for the opportunity to reassure you. To explain that he wasn't here to hurt you. That he'd kill himself before even laying a hand on you. Yet the correct words were lost and all he seemed to get out was an incoherent babble that had him wanting to dig his own claws into his chest.

"You smell different."

You straightened your spine, eyes narrowed into a glare he felt burn across his skin. "Look, I don't know who you are. But fuck off."

Something akin to pride flared in his chest at your tone, your words. But he couldn't show it externally. How would he explain that your fight—your fire—is what drew him to you in the first place? How could he tell you about a version of yourself you'd never know? A person he thought would be with him until his last breath exhaled into the world.

"I'm not here to hurt you." He raised his hands in an attempt to prove his point, but like your variant counterpart you were willing to bite first and ask questions later.

"Yeah. Sure asshole." The shopping bag in your other hand was lifted up, until you had a tighter grip on it in case something happened. You didn't know him. You probably never would.

But Logan had to try. He owed it to you to give it all he had this time around.

Otherwise...what was the point of living?

"My name's–" He made the wrong move stepping forward and knew it the second his boot hit the gravel. With a wince, he watched you stumble back against your car, your arm coming up to protect yourself. "No. Look I'm not gonna do anything–"

"Get the fuck away from me," you spit.

He moved back as if approaching a wounded animal—his body finally on edge in a new way. The fact that you didn't know him wasn't what broke off another chunk of his heart. He could handle that. He'd been through that.

You were afraid of him.

That realization dug in too deep for his body to heal.

That...he couldn't live with.

"WOAH hey!" He'd never appreciated Wade's irritating ass more than in this moment. He jumped between the two of you, the cart of groceries forgotten as he blocked Logan from your sight. "Step away from the nice lady wolf boy." Wade regarded you with a smile. "Hi! Sorry. This is my uncle and well as you can probably tell he's lost eight of his lives. So we're going on little old nine. And well the mind just goes to shit first."

Seconds passed by like minutes and Logan watched you visibly deflate. "Wade," you greeted him, visibly calmer than before. Logan felt his stomach twist violently at the thought. "It's good to see you. How's the job?"

"Oh yup you know. Left that. But I'm really pushing through. I've got an Etsy store where I sell miniature paintings of Michael Angelo's David's penis. So there's that."

Your laughter sent a hole through his chest and Logan bit back the growl that rose up the back of his throat. What the fuck was Wade doing making friends with you? Why were you laughing at his humor?

He couldn't count how many days he'd spent longing to hear your laugh again, the shine in your eyes that always came around when joy flooded your bloodstream. He could smell the honey off your skin, the warmth of what no doubt lay beneath your thin dress. And he wanted to rip Wade to pieces knowing that he was the one making it happen. That you were comfortable with a man who's mouth ran at a mile a minute.

"Did your sister have the baby yet?"

You brightened and Logan felt his heart stutter. "She did! A boy."

"Named Wade I hope."

Another peal of laughter had Logan's claws itching to descend as you ignored he was there. "Theo actually. A cutie."

"Aww." Wade moved closer, head bent to see the small polaroid you pulled out of your wallet. "Wow, he looks like you'd find him in a Gerber's advertisement."

Your eyes drifted up, past Wade's shoulder, until you finally caught Logan's gaze. And he felt like he could breathe. Every ounce of fear was wiped from your face; interest now creeping in as you dragged your eyes down his form. Past the slight peek of chest hair and down to how his jeans hugged his hips. Logan stood taller for your benefit, as if he needed to make a good impression.

He wanted to linger in your mind for days. Until the curiosity ate you alive.

"We're gonna go," Wade announced, after grabbing your bag and placing it in your trunk for you. "Someone has to feed the blind woman in my apartment. She tends to root through everything looking for food." He gripped Logan's arm, shoving him back a good few feet. Even as your eyes still remained glued to his face. "Glad to see the Hyundai is still working. You know you could take the fattest fucking nap in the back of that puppy. Makes you feel like an Egyptian mummy."

"Bye," you said, a dazed look in your eyes as Logan smiled in your direction. At ease with the knowledge that even in a different universe, he could still fluster you with a look.

Dragging himself away from you was hell, but Wade's grip remained unbreakable as they clambered to the car. The groceries stacked in the small backseat.

He could glimpse you driving off and suddenly the nightmare from earlier was the last thing on his mind.

Wade's back hit the wall with a crack before the door could shut properly. The groceries in their hands toppled to the floor. He barely had time to duck before Logan's claws were aiming for his head—a snarl ripping from his throat.

"What the fuck?" Wade shouted, grabbing the paper bag and gently setting it on the table. "Next time just say you need to stay home and find some joy in an empty room and your hand."

"How do you know her?"

Wade smiled, assessing the furious state of chaos Logan was now left in. The tatters of his stability falling to the floor around him. For as much as he held himself together, it certainly remained easy enough to tear him a part.

"Got an eye on someone, do we honey badger?"

Logan grimaced, running a hand down his face. "Would you just fucking tell me?"

"Let me bask in this Logan. I'm about to watch a romcom come to life and need some popcorn." He rummaged through the bag, yanking out some chips. "Salty and sweet. That'll do."

"Wade," he bit out.

"Stick with us girls, we're about to get to the good stuff."

"WADE!"

He tossed the bag to the table, eyeing the way Logan never quite settled. "I'm gonna take a guess and say we know her more than just friendly hellos."

Logan couldn't answer because his grief did it for him. He did what he could to catch his breath, to stop seeing his version of you. The disappointment on your face, the pain in your voice. You'd been so angry with him. To watch the person he loved be reduced to a screaming crying mess wasn't something he wanted to relive, but Wade's question seemed to send an avalanche toppling to the ground.

"She's..." He sucked in a breath. "On my world. I...knew her."

"Knew her? Or knew her."

He reached for the bottle of whiskey Wade threw in with the rest of the groceries and popped it open before he spoke again. "It didn't end well between us. None of it did."

Wade fell silent and Logan found himself loathing the quiet more than the sound of his voice. If he was joking Logan could ignore it. He could pretend nothing happened. That you weren't here, you couldn't be hurt by him again.

You were safe from his destructive tendencies as long as you were in another universe.

"She lives across the street." Logan's head rose and whipped to see the window that faced the building across from them. "The old uncultured shit whistles that keep complaining about WHAM! the greatest thing to happen to music. They're her neighbors. Live right next door."

"Neighbors."

Wade nodded, offering him a chip. "She found their note and angel that she is, she very sweetly threatened to get them evicted. I offered to let her borrow my katanas but was rejected like younger me on prom night. You've really got yourself a catch there buddy."

Logan didn't need Wade to tell him how fucking lucky he was. He knew that the second you walked out of that store. You were everything good in his life at one point, everything he couldn't save. There wasn't much keeping him going on his old Earth, but having you made all the suffering he went through—all the pain he endured—worth it.

If you were waiting for him at the end, he'd do it all over again.

"So you want to take a dip in that honey huh? Taste that rainbow?"

His claws would have sunk into Wade's throat if a knock hadn't sounded at the door. With a huff, he stepped into the kitchen, the bottle clutched tightly in his hand. Whoever decided to give Wade some luck was of no concern to him.

Or so he believed.

"I didn't mean to accidentally take your groceries," you laughed, handing over a overpacked paper bag.

Stuffing the bottle under the sink, he met you halfway to the living room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you still in that dress. Still delicate enough for him to rip if he tugged it right. Heat curled along the base of his spine when your eyes met his, wide and glimmering with your laughter. He felt himself crumple at the sight of your lips parting, the surprise at his size still enough to make you speechless.

"Good to see you again," he greeted you, voice low and soft.

You didn't mean to grow flustered in his presence, but something about the way his gaze devoured you within seconds left you breathless. The swooping sensation in your stomach became too much to handle. Desire and attraction weren't unknown concepts to you. But this felt like more. You could sense him right down to your bones and it scared the shit out of you.

"Oh right!" Wade scooched past you to swing an arm around Logan's shoulders. He did what he could to not stab him in the stomach. "This is Logan. My hunky new roommate."

Logan groaned. "Alright–"

"No, no it's good. You remember when I was declared basically the savior of the universe?"

Your face screwed up in confusion. Logan had never wanted to kiss someone more.

"Marvel...Jesus right?"

"I prefer MJ. Since I've got a Peter." Wade's head whipped to the side. "Suck it Tom Holland." His grip on Logan tightened. "This walking People's Sexiest Magazine helped. We're talking big claws, abs you just want to lick whipped cream off of–"

Logan's elbow slammed into Wade's stomach—crimson slowly tinting the tips of his ears. "That's enough."

"AND the Wolverine."

Surprised etched itself onto your face even further. Until you finally regarded Logan with a look he'd seen once before. Awe. When you first met one another in the halls of the mansion, you stared at him that exact way. As if you couldn't quite believe that iconic figure the X-Men made him out to be actually existed.

He couldn't tell if he liked it. Or if he'd rather you view him as a stranger.

"Logan," he said, offering his hand to you politely. Your skin remained as soft as he remembered.

Warmth bloomed in your body at the feeling of his calloused palm overwhelming yours, the scars across his knuckles old and ancient. Yet you found yourself wanting to trace them over and over, until the sight of them seared in your mind. You fought the urge to press your lips to them, etch your own mark into his skin. Something told you he wouldn’t mind.

Logan could see the intrigue on your face—the distracted gaze he wanted to keep in place. You were still curious. Still willing to learn about him. To pick him a part with soft words and even softer touches.

"Logan," you murmured under your breath, your eyes catching his. He felt his stomach leap at the sound of your voice whispering his name. Memories flooding his mind quicker than he expected. Of mornings spent in bed, your skin pressed against his. Of nights alone in his cabin—your stories lulling him to sleep.

Everything he willed himself to forget, yet could never truly let go of.

"I've got to head back." Disappointment filled your heart at the thought of not getting a chance to talk to him more. He had yet to let go of your hand and you found you liked his touch on your skin. "I'll see you soon Wade."

"Logan will be more than happy to walk you back," Wade replied, waving drastically behind your back. "Can't have you getting hurt now can we? Right peanut?"

You smiled. "I'm just across the street."

"I don't mind," Logan cut in, glaring at Wade to shut the fuck up.

"Okay," your voice was soft. Happy.

Logan would have done anything to keep it that way.

The walk back wasn't long enough for him to explain his actions from earlier, but you seemed to be just as smart as your variant self. Shutting the building's door, you turned to him—your dress fluttering in the breeze. Logan choked on his spit at the slight peek of your ass before you pushed the skirt back down around you.

"Did you know me?" You lead him to the corner, waiting for the traffic to die down. "On your Earth."

He paused, his eyebrows pulling together, and for a moment you wondered if you asked the wrong question. Wade told you bits and pieces of what happened since you last saw him, but Logan's background wasn't a discussion you tried to seek out. All you knew was that Wade acquired a new roommate. Not even a name.

Certainly not that he was Wolverine.

"Yes," Logan muttered, glancing at the change in lights.

You started to walk. "In what way?"

His hands curled into fists—echoes of his past rising to the surface. "We were...friends. You're a professor."

"A professor?" you exclaimed, a smile tugging on your lips. "Am I a mutant?"

He nodded. "You're able to bend time. Or control it." He snorted, following your lead towards your building. "I could never understand it. But Charles did."

The walk up to your apartment was silent, your thoughts filled with the new information he'd given you. And no matter how hard you tried to picture it, you couldn't see yourself as a mutant. A powerful being that held the ability to manipulate time who just so happened to be a professor. Somehow even thinking about it made you wonder why Logan was bothering to entertain this version of you. When the better one existed on his Earth.

"You said were."

Stopping at your door, he nearly knocked into you. "Hm?"

"Were friends. What happened?"

The answer he couldn't give you. The words he wouldn't even admit out loud to himself.

He felt his heart twist as if a knife slowly carved through his spleen. "We uh..." He coughed. "You..."

"I don't have to know." Grasping gently onto his arm, you offered a warm smile he felt down to his toes. A look he hadn't seen in quite some time. Logan could picture the last day you were happy in his head. Laughing with Charles in his office as you shared dinner, working on theories of your powers late into the night.

A week before they came.

"It's good to see you like this," he breathed, his hand reaching out to touch your cheek before stopping midair. "Happy."

Your eyebrows knit together. "I wasn't happy?"

"No." What he wouldn't give to take that information back, but it was out in the open, and as always—he remained too late.

"Why?" you asked, your hand sliding down to his much to his delight.

"I made you a promise." He sucked in a breath, his body begging him to start running. You'd be better off if you never knew. If you never remembered him in the first place. "I couldn't keep it."

I'll always keep you safe.

Words he refused to say again.

How could he promise this version of you that? How could he look you in the eyes and lie again? Breaking his Earth's you would haunt him for the rest of his life. He couldn't fathom doing it all over. It would kill him.

Except you weren't the person in his mind. You weren't the mutant who hated him with every fiber of your being. You were you. A continuous surprise that left his heart stuttering in his chest each time you looked his way. An enigma he found himself wanting to unravel.

"Maybe this time around you can," you said softly, letting him go with a smile as you entered your apartment, effectively opening the wound in his heart so wide there was no saving him.

Although he now knew something he didn’t know before.

He didn’t want to be saved.

[rose-maidenn]

🌬PAC : Your most appealing sensual qualities :-

Pile 1 :

Hii loves how are you doing?

For you I get that you know exactly how to make a person wait for something be it , your attention, your favours or your time , I get the word void for you , staying with you puts people in a state or rest or in a new world it's like you surround them with maya , it's so beautiful, be it is case of friendships or relationships you show people how worthy you are , ik nowadays how people admire nonchalance but most have got it all wrong , your way is beautiful you know how to read the room and gives them the exact amount of attention .

The way you brush your hairs in the middle of the conversation from your face is very attractive , people see your hair for hair inspo btw it's very voluminous and shiny , you remind me of the old celtic women with wavy hair, such beauty .

Moreover people really like when you wear clothes showing your waist and the way you move is very attractive it's hypnotic even , I won't be shocked if you said you learn dance because girl you're attracting the attention damn .

You're one of those people who attract attention without saying much and that is so so rare and you embody rare how stunning are youuu!!!!!!

Pile 2 :

Heyyy ,how's everything going ?

Your eyes damn those eyes , you know that they kill and you use them well angel . Your hands are very observed by other people the movement of your hands , your nails , I will not be shocked if you said you learnt mudras or reiki . I think you can easily read people's energy just by touching them. Wanna know something honey you need to be really careful about the things you say because you easily manifest . I wish all the good comes to you.

Your diction and hold on various languages and accent is very admired , the way you pronounce and the certain raspy tone to your voice is very sensual to most people it's like you're luring them in . Your anger Is so admired by many people because there's a way you fight for the causes the passion is seen in your actions and that is so attractive .

People are in awe of your thinghs I'm not even kidding , they imagine sleeping on them , they would like to see you in a sexy garter belt like damn , your skin is super shiny as well , random but I remembered coco oil by victoria's secret , maybe you should try that , your soft skin is adored by many people .

You have a luminous glow to yourself like the moon , I can't describe well but it's beautiful you're like a old Hollywood glamour queen , damn your auraaaaaa!!!!!!

Thank you so much for reading🫶✨️ , dm me if you wanna book with me 🎀 kiss kiss ♥️

[gubsbuubs]

MASKED

(18+)

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~ 5K

Warnings: smut; mask.k!nk (kinda), creampie

Summary: When tasked with directing a new episode focused on y/c/n, Matthew and Y/N unexpectedly uncover a shared affinity for masks

A/N: Hey my loves! I know I promised an MGG director smut, but after giving it some thought, I realized the story I have in mind needs more development so it´s going to be a multi-part fic. Stay tuned for that! In the meantime, here's a little taste of a MGG smut.

Please let me know if you guys enjoyed the visuals. I love to see them in works so I wanted to try it out.

English is not my first language. I hope you all enjoy it, and any and all comments are appreciated 🍒

Friday 11pm - Quixote Studios Trailer Park - West Hollywood.

Being an actress on the set of Criminal Minds meant that a time would eventually come when she'd receive a script with her character´s name in the title.

"Y/C/N – Directed by Matthew Gray Gubler" She read it out loud as she stared at the cover page of the script.

Y/N knew, she didn't even need to flip through the pages to know that Y/C/N was clearly about to go through some traumatic event in her story development as the youngst and newest member of the BAU.

She was thankful; yes, don't get it wrong, she´d been waiting for an opportunity to take her own storyline even further since she joined the show almost a two years ago, but she didn't expect a 'Y/C/N" episode, especially not one directed by Matthew.

With his knack for blending spine-chilling suspense with heart-wrenching drama, it was bound to be a wild ride - equal parts terrifying and captivating.

With a laugh, she muttered to herself, "Well, this calls for a glass of wine,". She made her way to the small refrigerator tucked into the corner, it was late, everyone was already wrapped for the week, and a sip wouldn't hurt.

After pouring herself a generous portion of red, she returned to her seat on the couch.

The script lay before her, gently resting on her legs, feeling its weight against her skin. With a delicate touch, she let her fingers skim the cover, tracing the intricate patterns and feeling the slight texture beneath her fingertips.

As she opened the script, her eyes were immediately drawn to a sketch that covered the opening page. Unmistakably one of Gubler’s stills. Matthew had a very particular way of bringing his visions to life—through meticulously drawn storyboards.

And there, in stark contrast to the white of the page, was the figure that would probably haunt her dreams for nights to come.

No expression adorned its featureless face; the black mask it wore was void of emotion and intent. It seemed to leer at her from the page, its presence ominous and foreboding. Her eyes then drifted to the bottom right corner of the picture, where the word "Phlegethon" was written in bold letters.

Intrigued, she skimmed through the pages, scanning the lines of dialogue in search of any clues that might offer insight into the enigmatic masked figure and the direction of the episode.

And then, she found it—a classic Spencer Reid rambling session. A familiar warmth spread through her as she encountered the distinctive style of the beloved character. "Perfect," she thought, a soft smile gracing her lips as she sipped on her wine before delving deeper into the script.

(BAU CONFERENCE ROOM - LATE NIGHT) The team is gathered around the meeting table, discussing the details of the new case. David Rossi: "I've just never seen this type of burning technique before, how the victims are left with only their heads burnt to a crisp, leaving behind blackened, charred skin." (Pauses) "Guess the unsub has a flair for the dramatic." Spencer Reid: "I know how he's killing them." (Rises from his seat) "It's right there, he's giving us a clue." (Approaches the board and rearranges the crime scene pictures - depicting black letters on walls behind the victims) "P" "H" "L" "E" (Looks back at the table again) "He's spelling his name." (Pauses again) "Phlegethon." JJ: "Reid, English, please."

Spencer Reid: "Phlegethon... In Greek mythology, Phlegethon is one of the five rivers of the Underworld, known for its fiery nature and its association with punishment and destruction. It's often described as a river of fire, a torrent of burning flames that consumes everything in its path." (Motions at the pictures again) "He's achieving this burning technique by painting the victims' faces with Greek fire. Greek fire, also known as 'sea fire' or 'liquid fire,' was a devastating incendiary weapon used by the Byzantine Empire during naval battles. It's said to have been composed of a mixture of various substances, including petroleum, sulfur, and quicklime, which probably explains the smell the firefighters reported." (Sits back down) "By painting the victims' faces with Greek fire, the unsub is ensuring that the fire burns with intense heat in those specific areas, consuming the skin with a ferocity unmatched by conventional flames, leaving behind only blackened, charred remnants." Emily Prentiss: (Confused) "But that doesn't explain the sheer brutality of the wounds found in the victims' bodies." Y/C/N: "Or the masks he reportedly wears, as mentioned by Marianne Smith, the almost third victim who managed to escape." Spencer Reid: "It's possible that the masks serve a dual purpose. Firstly, they could serve as a grim reminder of his handiwork, a twisted reflection of the charred, disfigured faces left behind by his method of killing." (Pounders for a second) "Secondly, the masks could also provide a layer of anonymity, allowing him to operate without fear of being identified. By concealing his face, he's able to move freely without leaving behind any recognizable features, making it harder for law enforcement to track him down." Luke Alvez: "The beatings could serve as a means of subduing or torturing his victims. The physical violence may not only serve to incapacitate them but also to instill fear and control, further amplifying their suffering."

Y/N lifted her eyes from the paper, bringing the glass to her lips. The smooth taste of the wine coated her tongue as she pondered the words she had just read. Eventually, she came to realize that kidnapping was what connected Y/C/N to that creppy man. As the BAU delved deeper into their investigation to catch Phlegethon, Y/C/N's would fall victim to his clutches.

Reading through the script, she couldn't help but flinch at the vivid descriptions of the torture scenes her character would endure. Well … there it was - the trauma.

Each page turned brought forth mounting tension, yet, amidst the fear and apprehension, there was also a strange sense of excitement. As an actress, she relished the opportunity to delve into the depths of her character's psyche, and portray the resilience and strength needed to survive such harrowing circumstances.

The quiet of her trailer is suddenly shattered by the creak of the door, causing her to jump in her seat. Before she could react, the door swung open, revealing a person standing in the doorway, their face obscured by a dark, featureless mask.

She let out a piercing scream, panic setting in as she scrambled backwards with her eyes wide with terror.

Then a sound cuts through the air: laughter, the unknown person in the mask reaches up, removing it and revealing a familiar face.

"GUBLER! You son of a bitch, you scared the shit out of me!" she exclaimed as she stood up to smack him in the arm.

“Sorry, I couldn't resist," he said between laughs. "But you have to admit, it was pretty good."

Shaking her head in disapproval, she sat back down, "Yeah, yeah, good one."

With a soft click of the door behind him, Matthew fully entered the room and threw the mask into Y/N’s lap. She glanced down at it, then back up at at her co-star as he took a seat beside her on the sofa.

"Soooo…. What did you think?" He asked as he picked up the script.

"Well… It's intense, to say the least." She let out a shaky laugh. "I mean, the storyline is gripping, but those torture scenes... They're pretty chilling."

"Yeah, it's definitely going to push some boundaries," he commented, glancing down at the mask. "Speaking of which, what did you think of him? Does the mask capture the essence of Phlegethon?"

"It's... haunting," she murmured softly. "Definitely adds to the creep factor, gives me chills just to look at it."

A playful smirk tugged at the corners of his lips.“Did you see who I cast for the role?"

She looked up at him, curiosity evident in her expression as her eyebrows rose slightly. "Who did you cast?"

“You didn't even look at the casting?" he teased, shaking his head in disbelief.

"I was too caught up in the story," she admitted with a sheepish grin as she took the script out of his hands and flipped to the last pages.

STARRING: David Rossi - Joe Mantegna Emily Prentiss - Paget Brewster Dr. Spencer Reid - Matthew Gray Gubler Phlegethon - Matthew Gray Gubler Y/C/N Y/C/LN - Y/N Y/L/N Jennifer Jareau - A.J. Cook Penelope Garcia - Kirsten Vangsness Dr. Tara Lewis - Aisha Tyler Luke Alvez - Adam Rodriguez Matt Simmons - Daniel Henney

She stared in disbelief, her eyes widening with surprise. "What? No way”

"Oh, way, my sweet Y/N," he murmurs as he swiftly snatched the mask from her right leg. His fingers accidentally touching her exposed skin. Goosebumps immediately rose on her legs involuntarily.

With a wide smile he places the mask on "I'm gonna be haunting your dreams tonight," he whispered in a spooky voice.

As Matthew waved his hands in a ghostly manner in front of her face, she stood still, analyzing his barely noticeable features under the mask. In the dimly lit trailer, only accompanied by the small hum of her mini-fridge, she found it weird how into it she was getting by seeing Matthew with a mask on.

It wasn't that he needed to cover his face to look good, I mean, have you seen the man? He looks good all the damn time. But there was something strangely appealing about the way he looked in that eerie disguise. Creepy, but good.

Her heart was beating a little faster as she caught herself admiring the contours of his jawline, the way his nose perked up under the mask, and how his slender neck appeared from the gap between the mask and his slightly unbuttoned oversized patterned shirt.

Now silently standing before her, there was something undeniably hot about the mysterious aura he exuded.

Suddenly he reached out, his hand lightly resting on her arm. "I'm sorry, did I actually scare you?"

She cleared her throat nervously. "No, no," she waved her hand dismissively, trying to brush off the effect he was having on her.

"You're sure?" he pressed, adding reassuring pressure to her skin.

Her skin was warm, soft, so couldn’t help but notice how goosebumps formed on her skin under his fingers.

"Yeah, it was just..." She sighed, not wanting to give away the fact that she actually felt turned on by this. "It was weird seeing you like this."

Unconsciously she let her hand meet his cheek, analyzing the way the black fabric hugged his features without giving his identity away. “You look, I don’t know... different."

Now it was his turn to get goosebumps. He could feel his face getting hotter as her hand caressed the shape of his jawline. The fluster creeping up his neck was probably visible to her as she studied his masked face attentively.

He locked his eyes on hers and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was witnessing something beyond the ordinary. Was he seeing things, or was that a glimmer of lust? Desire? Her cheeks flushed with a warmth that mirrored his own, her delicate touch tracing the contours of the mask with an intimacy that set his pulse racing. Her breathing unstable, coming out in small quickened breaths.

It couldn't be... could it? Was the mask somehow affecting her, stirring something she wouldn’t dare to acknowledge?

The mere thought made his heart pound faster in his chest and he swallowed hard when he noticed the unmistakable tightness in his pants.

"Different how?" His voice was low as their proximity increased, so close now that if either dared the only thing separating them was the black fabric.

She took a deep breath,"You look... mysterious,".

He chuckled slightly “Is that a good thing?”

“Humm… yeah” her tongue darted out to wet her lips before she caused her bottom lip in between her teeth. “a very good thing.”

He was definitely not seeing things, if he ever did need a confirmation that was it. As she flashed them a smile with her bottom lip caught up in between her teeth his mind was racing at 1000 mph. She looks so innocent before him, so soft and fragile, but the look on her eyes was that of darkness and desire and he couldn’t ignore it even if he tried.

"Do you like that?" His voice was a low, teasing murmur, and although concealed by the mask, she could sense the mischievous lift of his eyebrows. “Do you like how mysterious I look”

She swallowed hard as her pulse quickening at the playful challenge in his voice. "I do," she confessed.

"You know… I’ve got to be very honest Y/N" the pressure he applied on her arm raised as he carefully knead the skin under his finger tips. "I could get used to you looking at me like that."

A small, innocent smile adorned her lips “And how exactly am I looking at you?"

He chuckled softly, his smirk growing wider "You really want me to describe what I see in your eyes?"

She simply nodded in confirmation.

He gently took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up "Okay," he murmured, his thumb traced the contour of her jawline. "Let's see... I’m sensing …a mixture of desire and curiosity. It's like you've just discovered something new about yourself… something exciting and a little dangerous.”

She felt her cheeks flush gently looked away.

“No, eyes on me!” He commanded holding her face in place “You’re scared but also excited…. I would even dare to say, turned on…”

Her eyes widened in surprised as she came to realize she wasn’t being a subtle as she planned. “I.. I… don’t … what?”

He chuckled as she struggled to find the right words. “It’s okay I feel the same… I’m actually pretty worked up to”

Her expression lit up “You are?”

He nodded his head in confirmation “You have no idea how much you’re driving me crazy right now”

She looked unsure, confused even like she could never believe the undeniable and pretty noticeable effect she was having on him.

“Do you want me to show you Sweetheart?” His left hand met hers.

Without being able to form a proper answer, she uttered a simple, “Please.”

Matthew took her hand and placed it on the visible bulge that imprinted his pants. Her eyes momentarily left his covered face to glance down, trying her best to not start moaning at how good his cock felt under her touch.

She began to caress him, feeling the heat and firmness through the fabric. Her fingers traced the outline of his erection, eliciting a throaty groan from him as he threw his head back.

Her strokes grew more deliberate, fingers gliding over the hard ridge and pressing lightly, teasing him and feeling the way his cock throbbed under her hand. As she continued to caress him, she felt the tension in his body build, his hips subtly rocking forward, seeking more of the pleasure she was giving.

Unable to resist any longer he moved up his mask just enough before he reached forward, tangling his fingers in her hair and pulling her close. He pressed his lips to her neck, kissing a trail along her sensitive skin, earning a sweet moan.

His other hand slid down to her chest, gently caressing her breast through the fabric of her dress.

His other hand slid down to her chest, gently caressing her breast through the fabric of her dress. “Is this okay?” Matthew whispered

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat as she arched into his touch, a soft moan escaping her lips. “Yes,” she breathed, her voice tinged with longing, reveling in the sensation of his hands on her body.

He kissed right below her ear before he spoke “Tell me what are you thinking right now?”

Her eyes fluttering closed. “You’re making it hard to think,” she admitted.

“Good,” he murmured, “Then I’m doing something right”

He leaned down to meet her lips, his tongue lightly sweeping over her bottom lip. She surrendered to the kiss, her body shuddering as his tongue danced with hers. Her fingers found their way to the back of his neck, gently tangling in the curls that peeked out from under the mask.

With a soft moan, she deepened the kiss, tugging on the collar of his shirt to bring him closer. He followed her lead, pressing against her as she laid back.

His fingers trailed along her exposed thigh, the fabric of her dress riding up as she wrapped herself around him.

He melted into her, his breath mingling with hers as a quiet, involuntary moan escaped his lips, intensifying the throb of his cock against the fabric of his pants.

His teeth grazed the delicate skin of her neck, and with a sigh, she tilted her head to the side, granting him access as he began to suckle gently on her skin, leaving a trail of warm kisses in his wake.

"Fuck," she moaned as she pressed herself closer to him, his breath hitched as he rocked his hips against her, the friction growing intense between them. Their bodies moved together, and it was becoming almost unbearable as they both craved more.

Her hands tugged at his shirt, desperate for more contact, and he let out a low groan, his fingers gripping her hips tighter, holding her close and increasing the pressure against her core.

“Matthew” She panted, her voice filled with urgency, "we shouldn't be doing this here."

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, his breath hot against her skin.

"Please no!” she sounded desperate, her body betraying her protests as she grownd her hips against his croch. "It´s just.. we're at work," she pleaded, torn between desire and reason.

He chuckled softly, his lips still trailing kisses along her neck. "You're right," he murmured, his hand gently moving the strap of her dress down, exposing more of her soft skin. "We really shouldn't be doing this."

His hand skimmed over her breast, his touch gentle yet possessive as he caressed her through her bra. She shuddered, her skin breaking out in goosebumps at his touch. "But I don't think I can stop now," he whispered, his voice husky with desire, as he pulled the straps down, exposing her breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Some… Someone…” she stumbled her words, her voice tinged with urgency. "Someone could walk in any minute."

But her protests were met with the delicious sensation of his lips circling around her left nipple, lightly grazing it with his teeth. A whine escaped her lips as his hand kneaded her right breast, alternating between a gentle caresses and rougher grabs.

"Then tell me to stop, Y/N" he challenged, his hands moving to the hem of her dress, slowly raising it up as he positioned himself between her legs. His touch was firm as his lips brushed against the skin of her hip, teasing her with their proximity.

She moaned, her voice a desperate plea as she pushed his head down, craving more of his touch. He responded eagerly, leaving an open-mouthed kiss on the skin of her stomach.

"What if someone hears?" Her eyes searched for some type of reassurance as he settled his head between her thighs.

"What if?" he asked as he placed a kiss inside her thigh "Just let them hear how good I'm making you feel."

She let out a moan, her breath hitching with desire before she quipped "Wait!"

"Yes, sweetheart?" He raised his head to look at her, his hands rested on her thighs where his fingers traced small circles, teasing and tempting her further.

With a swift movement, she reached up and pulled the mask off his face. "This was fun but I want to see your face when you eat me out,".

That earned a wholeheartedly laugh, his eyes sparkling in the dim light now that the mask was gone. "You've got it," he replied.

His fingers gently moved her panties to the side, and as soon as she was bare before him, he couldn't help but let out a groan at the sight of her, so wet and inviting, begging for his touch.

"I've been dying to taste you," he murmured, his eyes locked on hers as he lowered himself between her legs. Then, without breaking eye contact, his tongue made contact with her slit, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from her lips.

Her back arched in response, and her hand flew to his hair as he explored her with his tongue. The room was filled with the sounds of wetness, and hums of pleasure.

His tongue drew circles on her clit before taking a long stripe from bottom to top, catching her bud between his lips once again. "You taste better than I've ever imagined,".

His fingers traced a path from her hip to her lips, and she eagerly welcomed them into her mouth, coating them with her saliva. A moan escaped him, sending vibrations against her clit and intensifying the pleasure coursing through her body.

As she threw her head back in ecstasy, he took his fingers and lightly breached her entrance, initiating a slow, pumping motion. Her grip on his hair tightened, seeking steadiness. He continued to explore her with his fingers, feeling her walls clench around him in response to his movements. With each thrust, she felt herself edging closer, unable to contain the building tension within her body.

"You look so pretty," he whispered.

"Matthew," she moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, "don't stop."

"Can you please cum on my tongue," he pleaded. "You taste so good, baby."

Her legs trembled as her cunt dripped and he hungrily lapped up every essence, savoring the taste of her pleasure.

Her legs trembled as she ran her hands through her hair, trying to steady her breathing.

He sat up in front of her, a satisfied smile playing on his moist lips. "You're incredible," he murmured, his voice filled with admiration "I could do that all day."

"Me too," she chuckled as she sat up, meeting his lips in a desperate kiss. She undid the buttons on his shirt, each one revealing more of his chest.

"Arms up," he instructed as he rose in his feet, with ease he swiftly removed her dress and bra, revealing her soft skin, adorned only in her panties.

His hand met her cheek, his touch gentle yet possessive, as he stood before her.

A soft sigh escaped his lips as she leaned forward, letting her fingers trace the outline of his bulge. With delicate movements, she unbuttoned his pants, and they fell to the floor with a soft thud. Carefully, she wrapped her fingers around him, lightly pumping his cock before taking his pink tip into her mouth. His head flew back, a guttural moan escaping his lips as she took him deeper, her tongue swirling around him with precision.

"You're going to have to stop," he gasped, his fingers entangled in her hair as she looked up at him, her mouth still working wonders on him.

“Please," he pleaded, his voice thick with desire, "I need to be inside of you."

She released him with a soft pop, and he felt like he could have cum right then and there, especially with that smile she just flashed him. God, she looked so pretty kneeling before him like that.

He reached forward, wrapping his fingers around her neck gently, and she followed his lead, sinking back onto the sofa. He lowered himself on top of her, his weight pressing into her as he settled between her legs.

With a hungry look in his eyes, he reached between them to grab his thick and throbbing cock. Slowly, he guided it to her entrance, teasing her with the tip as he felt her wetness coating him. With a slow motion against her slick folds he finally sank into her.

She was a moaning mess against his lips as he fully bottomed out, her walls stretching deliciously around him, welcoming him deeper.

He began to move, savoring the feeling of her warmth enveloping him. His movements increased in speed and intensity as her moans grew louder, filling the room with the sound of their bodies coming together.

He glanced down, watching as her wet cunt hungrily swallowed his cock, now glistening with her juices. The sight of himself disappearing inside her, inch by inch, was almost too much to bear.

"Fuck, you look so good taking all of me," he growled, his voice thick with lust. His hips moved with primal intensity, driving into her with a fierce, unrelenting rhythm.

Her moans grew louder and more desperate as he filled her completely. "Don't stop. Please, don't stop."

"I won't," he promised, his breath hot against her ear. "Not until you cum on my cock."

He reached down, his thumb finding her clit, circling it with just the right amount of pressure. She cried out, her body arching into him as the added stimulation pushed her closer to the edge.

“Oh my God," she panted, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"I can feel you squeezing me." He groaned, his thrusts becoming progressively urgent and demanding. "You're going to cum for me, sweethart?"

"Yes," she whimpered, her nails digging into his back as she clung to him. "Yes, I'm so close."

A final, powerful thrust was all it took for her walls to clench around him as she reached her peak, her body trembling with the force of her release. He groaned in satisfaction, feeling her shudder beneath him.

The sensation of her pulsing around him was his undoing, he had to cum. He was about to pull out, but she circled her legs around him, holding him in place.

"Keep going," she gasped, her voice barely coarse.

"Oh, please don't," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'm not going to last."

"Please, come inside of me."

"Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, please," she pleaded. "Fill me up."

With a guttural moan, he couldn't hold back any longer. His body trembled fast against hers as he released inside, filling her with his warmth. "Fuck," he muttered, his climax hitting him hard.

He collapsed on top of her, both of them breathing heavily as they layed intertwined.

She smiled up at him, a satisfied look in her eyes. "That was amazing," she whispered, running her fingers through his hair.

He kissed her forehead gently and brushed a strand of hair from her face. "You're incredible," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her swollen lips.

Matthew reached for the tissue box on the counter, gently cleaning her up. He got up, and she adjusted her panties back into place.

Extending his hand, he helped her to her feet. He found her bra first and handed it to her with a soft smile.

“Here you go,” he said, his voice warm. She slipped her arms through the straps, and he stepped closer, clasping it at the back with ease. His fingers brushed lightly against her skin, and he placed a kiss on her shoulder. Next, he picked up her dress and held it out for her. As she got dressed, he turned to find his pants, pulling them on.

"Let me help you with that," she said, stepping closer to him as he got his shirt on. Her fingers deftly worked on the buttons fastening them with care.

After they were both dressed, they stood in silence for a moment, the air felt heavy with the remnants of their intimacy.

Matthew's gaze wandered to the floor, where the black mask lay discarded. Bending down, he picked it up, the smooth surface cool against his fingertips. A small grin tugged at the corners of his lips.

"So, we accidentally discovered we're into masks, huh?" he chuckled, holding up the mask between them.

Y/N burst into laughter. "Seriously, how the hell are we supposed to film the episode after this?" she exclaimed between giggles.

Matthew laughed along “Yeah, it's going to be really difficult to not get hard in front of the whole production team"

"I'll never look at masks the same way again," she admitted "Thankfully, I do not l come across a lot of them."

"Well, I have to admit, I do have quite the collection of masks back home," he continued, raising his eyebrows "I don't know if you know this, but Halloween is kind of my thing."

"Oh, really? I had no idea" Y/N said in an ironic way, a playful grin spreading across her lips. "Is this your way of inviting me back to your place?"

"Maybe," Matthew's lips curved into a smirk, “But.. humm… actually" he began, his voice sincere. "I want to know if you would you like to go out to dinner with me? Like, a proper date?"

Y/N's eyebrows shot up in surprise "Matthew, we just had sex. Shouldn't we be doing things the other way around?"

"I know it might seem backward, but... I really like you, Y/N and I want to do things the right way. So, what do you say?"

"I'd love to go on a proper date with you," she replied with a smile.

[e-m-p-error]

6arelyhuman feat. Kets4eki - Hands Up!

[mylight-png]

A while ago I was listening to Dara Horn's podcast relating to her book, People Love Dead Jews. Within this podcast she discussed the fact that Holocaust museums tend to center stories that highlight ways in which Jews were just like anyone else, putting secular Jews on a pedestal of sorts.

The podcast went on to make the point that we shouldn't have to be like them to be liked. A Jew in a kippah is just as worthy of being accepted as a Jew in a baseball cap, and to position one, the more assimilated one, as "better" is antisemitic.

This made me think of how movies and shows portray Jews, and I realized a similar pattern of idealizing assimilation is deeply prevalent.

There are two main ways Jews are portrayed in movies/shows that I've noticed that are problematic. (For a narrower scope I'll be discussing American media as I am more familiar with that than most other countries.)

The first kind of Jewish representation is the token Jew. This is the character that the viewer wouldn't even have known is Jewish had the show not casually mentioned them celebrating Hanukkah in passing. This is the character who is entirely the same as any other character. An example of this would be in Ginny and Georgia, where a few side characters are revealed to be Jewish. This reveal occurred only for the purpose of making a Hanukkah episode, and immediately one of the characters says the beginning words to most of our prayers, adding "bitch" at the end. This sort of absolutely blatant disrespect towards the words many of us wouldn't even speak fully in casual conversation is meant to indicate that it's okay to poke fun at our religion. (By the way, it isn't okay. Don't disrespect our religion, thanks.) (And no the actress wasn't Jewish.)

Then there's Ben Gross from Never Have I Ever, a similarly extremely assimilated Jewish character. Instead of making fun of Judaism, however, the show plays into Jewish stereotypes. Ben's dad is a wealthy influential lawyer who works with Hollywood. Come on, there's three in a row there. Ben himself is frequently made fun of for being very short (to an extent not befitting the actor's actual stature), and some of his mannerisms could be described as effeminate. All of these traits play into anti-Jewish stereotypes. The protagonist even says she wishes Ben was killed by Nazis and other than a scolding this isn't made to be the big deal that it is.

These sorts of characters are meant to show how Jews are "just like you!" and pokes cruel fun at the few remaining things that do occasionally set them apart. Yes, secular Jews exist, but the way these shows make fun of their Jewish identities is where the issue arises.

The second problematic representation is meant to make goyim feel good about being goyim. This is specifically done through how Judaism is portrayed in these movies.

A major example of this is the show Unorthodox, in which the plot centers a young girl trying to escape her very observant community. This show directly demonized the Jewish religion, making it appear inherently oppressive and twisted.

While some may argue that the show was merely trying to portray the social issues within the community, there are better ways to achieve this.

The book An Unorthodox Match takes on a similar task with a vastly different tone. The book centers a protagonist joining an equally observant community, but not for a moment does the book, author, or protagonist blame Judaism. The book is very clearly written by a Jew who loves Judaism, and yet it manages to highlight similar social issues to the show without blaming Judaism. In fact, Jewish traditions have a fair share of appreciation in the book!

This sort of media is meant to make the goyishe viewers be grateful they aren't part of those communities, but as a Jewish viewer I felt deeply uncomfortable with the positioning of religious Jews as a negative part of society. This media makes the characters seem like they have nothing at all in common with the goyim around them or the goyim watching the show. It's the polar opposite of the previous example.

The first example is showing Jews as "just like anyone else" until they aren't, while the second example portrays Jews as entirely other. Never have I seen an Orthodox Jewish character side by side with the non-Jewish characters in any other context than the Jewish character envying their non-Jewish peers.

Why is the choice either to be assimilated or othered? Why can we not have an observant Jewish character remind their friends that they can't hang out on Saturday, or maybe they bring their own kosher snacks? Maybe a Jewish character muttering a bracha over their food? Why not make being Jewish an important part of their character without making them self-loathe because of it?

Media almost only ever shows two extremes and neither of those extremes has a positive impact on the perception of Jews.

(There is also a pattern I've noticed with Jews and goyim being cast in Jewish roles and how that corresponds to the character, but that's probably another post for another time.)

[dyns33]

Only wastelands

I will try to do this Cooper Howard x reader in three parts, but I like the Ghoul so much, I might want to write more

People said Y/N’s neighborhood was lucky.

After a draw, they were selected to join a Vault shelter for free, if something dramatic happened one day, allowing them to survive.

Y/N had received the news with mixed feelings. She didn't want to die from a nuclear bomb, but she also didn't want to think about the possibility of a nuclear bomb falling on their heads.

There was no reason for this to happen anyway.

China and the United States had resumed peace negotiations. The war was going to end and everything would be wonderful. The vaults would then be of no use.

That day, she was washing dishes in her small kitchen. She lived alone, having left her parents who were in another state to settle near Lors Angeles.

Of course, she had first dreamed of Hollywood, and then she had been reasonable, finding a normal job, to live a normal life.

First there was the light. For a moment, she blinked, wondering if she had fainted. And looking out the window, she first saw the smoke in the distance.

Her neighbors were out, she could see them in the street which also looked towards the city center, and no doubt they were talking, but Y/N heard nothing, all her attention fixed on the smoke.

It was just smoke. She watched without being able to move as the cloud grew, before the shock wave reached her house, destroying the windows and shaking the walls.

Screams were then heard, in addition to the sirens. Falling to the ground in shock, Y/N almost didn't get up, but one of the neighbors, instead of thinking selfishly, ran to see if she was still there, helping her to get up and taking her with her to the vault.

Everything happened very quickly after that.

Y/N vaguely remembered those smiling doctors, who explained to them that everything would be fine, doing several exams before putting what they called a pipboy on them, giving them a ridiculous blue and yellow jumpsuit.

"You are now the inhabitants of Vault 8. What has just happened is a tragedy, and we are going to need you to ensure the future of humanity."

They were taken to a large room, with human-sized tubes. The doctors explained that they would be put to sleep, kept in the cold, safe, and awakened only on the day when it would be possible to go out and repopulate the Earth without it being dangerous.

No one could have known that they were not safe at all.

When Y/N opened her eyes, she had a hard time understanding what was happening. There was no light in the vault, except for the one in her crate which had just opened automatically.

Most of the boxes in front of her were open and empty. Then turning around, she discovered decomposing corpses in those that had remained closed.

Her cries of terror brought no one to come, because there was no one in the shelter, just as there were no resources, no water, no food, nothing. Because no one was supposed to survive here.

For two days, Y/N cried, not knowing what to do.

Then she decided she didn't want to die, not like that anyway, and she tried her luck outside. She didn't know how long she had slept, or what she would find, but she had to try.

Her pipboy quickly told her that the air was breathable, despite the presence of radiation in certain places. But that wasn't the most important thing for her, seeing the desert surrounding the vault.

The bombs had destroyed everything, leaving only ruins and sand. Not being stupid, Y/N moved forward cautiously, trying to stay as covered as possible, even if it was difficult with her outfit.

On her way, she encountered two-headed cows, giant cockroaches, and other horrible creatures. No humans though, and she didn't know if that was a good thing.

With war, she knew that men could be much worse than beasts. Maybe they were all dead, from the explosions or all killing each other, or maybe they were still in the other vaults.

But life always found a way, even for assholes, and Y/N was attacked by three men while she was sleeping. Real savages, who talked more about eating her than anything else, laughingly ignoring her pleas.

“Now, that’s no way to treat a woman.” someone then said, stopping them as they were about to cut open her stomach.

"We found the bitch before you, pal ! Go get your lunch somewhere else !"

"Oh, but I think I found my meal. Mistreating a lady."

“You fucking ghoul !”

Too busy trying to get away, Y/N hadn't really looked at the man who had just arrived and was shooting at her attackers. Then, still too busy recovering from her misery, she took a while to raise her head, ready to thank her savior.

He didn't really seem surprised by her terror, although he grimaced as he watched her crawl away from him. She had to put her hand over her mouth to stop screaming.

It was impossible to tell if he had been burned or peeled, but the cowboy no longer had a nose, and his skin was in a catastrophic state.

As she stared at him with wide eyes, he watched her too, his attention settling on her pipboy.

"Ah. A vaultie. I understand the screams better. Never seen a ghoul before, sweetie ? Barely coming out of your little hole ?"

"… Sorry."

"No problem, sugar. You haven't insulted me or thrown things at me yet, it's quite polite."

At first, the ghoul was not very friendly. Yes, he had saved her, but he didn't want her to follow him into the wastelands. He didn't need a burden, and even less if it was a little rich girl.

But Y/N insisted, explaining to him what had happened to her, and the man looked at her with what looked like pity, muttering that she had ended up in one of the "bad vaults".

"I don't understand. What year is it ? Why is it only me who survived ? You… Sorry, what happened to you ?"

"Hey, honey. It's been over 200 years since everything blew up, thanks to Vault Tech. I imagine you and your friends were meant to serve as a pantry or an organ bank but like all their equipment, there's had a problem, and you were very lucky not to die like the others, and since you were there when everything happened, you should be able to guess why I am like this."

The Ghoul was gentleman enough to let her cry without comment.

The world was dead, and all because of money and power. Those who had sworn to protect them had killed them all. Nothing remained but an infertile, polluted, radioactive land, where the few survivors fought between factions instead of trying to find a real solution.

"Please… Don't leave me here…"

"You know, people didn't really like guys like me. It's not a good idea, sweetheart."

“They don’t like cowboys ?”

The question made him laugh. Maybe that was why he let her follow him. Or maybe because he wasn't as bad as he wanted to make out. Surely he felt lonely too, and it was nice to have someone who had lived in the same era as him , and who didn't judge him on his appearance.

Y/N didn’t understand ghoulophibia at all. Yes, they were scary, but that was no reason to mistreat these poor people.

"Okay, we judged on lots of things before, skin color, clothes, religion, but… Now, it's as if we were pointing at a cancer patient and shouting 'Look, he's sick Insult him !”

“It’s more complicated than that, sugar.” sighed the Ghoul, taking out a sort of hynalator to swallow its contents.

He explained radioactivity and the risks for him of becoming feral when they arrived in their first city. A chance for her to stay safe with people, their paths separating quietly.

But after three fights and an attack by Deathclaws, she preferred to stay with him.

So he taught her how to survive, use weapons, hide, follow a trail, earn caps. When asked why caps and not something else, he made a noise, saying he had no fucking idea, but men still wanted something to make business instead of helping each others for free.

After several months, he gave her a name. Cooper. Cooper Howard. He groaned when she asked him if he had anything to do with the old actor who did the Vault Tech commercial.

“Thanks for the bad memories, sweetie. An autograph ?”

“No thanks, never was a fan.”

"Ouch. Not even now, with my new look ? Do you think the cameras would like me ?"

“Let’s say that you will need less makeup for certain types of films, and a bag for others.”

Cooper laughed again, smiling at her with his slightly yellow teeth. It was obvious that it had been a long time since he had laughed like that with anyone.

He told her about his daughter after a year together in the wastelands. Handing her a photo, Y/N could see him as he was before, holding the little girl in his arms. They looked happy.

As she was about to give it back to him, he told her to keep it. It was the most important thing to him, so Y/N could keep the picture safe, and she would know that he would always come for her.

She muttered that she didn't doubt it anyway, putting the photo in her bag.

It was even longer later, when she had proclaimed herself the accountant of their small group, that Y/N noticed an inconsistency between the caps earned and the number of vials Cooper had.

“You should have five more vials.”

“Sugar, leave it.”

"No, really, I counted three times. I know the price by heart, you had fifty caps on your way to town, you should have fifteen vials. Is there a problem ? Has the price changed ? You… You Are you feeling well ?”

"I'm fine, sweetie. Sleep."

“But Coop…”

“Y/N, sleep.”

In the end, the price hadn't changed, Cooper was fine, but since they met, he had been spending his caps on non-irradiated water and food. For Y/N.

This discovery was a shock to her, who often watched him drink from puddles or eat human remains.

He didn't want her to do this. For her to become like him. When teaching her how to shoot, he added that it was just in case, because she wouldn't need to fight while he was there.

And now they were arguing about food, and he was ordering her to promise that she would continue to take what he gave her without question.

"You don't drink that dirty shit. You hear me, sugar ? Can you promise me ? You'll never drink that."

"… All right."

Their relationship was complicated. Cooper had probably told her everything, and yet he kept a distance. He didn't like her touching him, patting his shoulder or snuggling up to him to sleep.

Maybe he was afraid of making her sick. Maybe he thought she would rot on contact with him, and not just her skin.

Y/N really liked him anyway. They were both over 200 years old, even though she had been frozen during that time. They had spent a lot of time together. And even if she was still a little dizzy by his lack of nose, it wasn't the most important thing in a man.

It would have been two years when the raiders attacked. Far too many, so Cooper yelled at Y/N to run, to hide far away. He would come get her later.

Several days passed, and nothing. She was good at hiding, he had shown her, so it was possible that Cooper hadn't found her because she had become too good.

So she returned to the town where he came from, to at least find some informations. People did not easily forget the passage of The Ghoul.

But she didn't have to ask. She saw him in the bar, drinking and chatting with several guys.

Silent, discreet as a shadow, she came close enough to hear, thinking that he was in the middle of an business, and that she could surprise him when he finished with a beautiful reunion.

“You really don’t know where she is, Ghoul ?”

"Nah. Look guys, I know she was a real lil puppy that followed me everywhere, but I finally got rid of her, so I don't really care where she is. Not my problem. It was fun at first, but good riddance.”

She had seen the bomb fall, she had seen the bodies of her neighbors, but Y/N had never felt so bad as in that moment. She could feel her heart breaking in her chest, as Cooper and the others laughed together, mocking her.

Once, he had said that she should never trust anyone. It was an important rule to survive. But Y/N never believed that rule would include him.

With her bag and her weapon, she ran into the night, alone in the middle of the wasteland for the first time since she left her vault, and completely unaware of what she was going to do.

Only one thing was certain, she would never see Cooper Howard again.

[reality-detective]

You won't see or hear this 👇 on your tv, in fact you probably won't see it anywhere...

The below is the first of a series on the Deep State Cabal’s Underground DUMB Tunnels used for US illegal bioweapon labs and Child Sex Trafficking, Organ and Adrenochrome Harvesting.

· On 20 Feb. 2017 Julian Assange unveiled a bombshell on Fox News Hannity, alleging that Wikileaks had hard proof that former President Barack Hussein Obama, along with his sidekick Joe Biden, operated and participated in a pedophile ring based in the White House.

· On New Year’s Day 2021 and a few weeks before the Biden fake Presidential Inauguration that was partially filmed on a Hollywood movie set, Delta Forces (under direction of President Trump) had raided Joe Biden’s 200 acre property in the Ukraine. The Military found a maze of underground chambers and tunnels that ran for miles in every direction. Bits of necrotic flesh hung from ankle and wrist shackles bolted to the walls. Seized laptops were said full of evidence of Biden’s massive international money laundering, gun/ drug running, child/human trafficking scheme – that appeared connected to other high powerful elites.

· Within this last month the recently arrested Satan worshipping Jeffrey Epstein of Hollywood, P Diddy, was exposed by his daughter Ally Carter. Ally was a survivor of pedophilia and human trafficking and she dropped a bombshell: there’s an entire network of tunnels that spans across the United States, connecting cities such as beneath the White House in Washington DC and Disney World Florida. These tunnels, Carter claims, are being used to traffic humans, mainly children.

· Since at least the end of World War II, an extensive Worldwide network of DUMB Underground Tunnels used for Child Sex Trafficking have been financed, built and run by members of the illuminati, Deep State, or Cabal using US taxpayer dollars funneled through a CIA Black budget.

· This was about child sex rings and blackmail at the highest levels of government. Evidently President George H.W. Bush orchestrated a child sex ring to blackmail Congress and top officials. It was named “Operation Brownstone” and “Operation Brownstar”.

· A secret US Military Operation trained for over a year on how to rescue what became millions of horrifically abused children from that extensive network of Underground DUMB Tunnels. It ran across the US, Canada, Mexico, South America and then throughout the World. Recent operations centered beneath major cities in New York, California, Florida, Washington DC and Disney World in Florida.

· The vast Worldwide child rescue missions was headed by President Trump, the Pentagon Pedophile Task Force, US Special Forces and Marines in cooperation with Interpol, and various nations’ special military forces. They included arrests of pedophile perpetrators and destruction of the underground tunnels and bases through bombs that caused minor earthquakes.

· The rescues began on Oct. 16 2019 when US Marines, Navy Seals and Special Forces rescued over 2,100 caged babies and children beneath the China Lake Navy facility in California. The children and teens were said to have been sexually abused, tortured and killed to collect their adrenaline.

Secret Underground Tunnels Beneath Florida! Sat. 12 Oct. 2024: EXPOSED: Secret Underground Tunnels Beneath Florida! The Hidden Network Under Ybor City You Were Never Meant to Discover.

And after hurricane Milton blew through, Ezra Cohen who has been a very accurate source posted 👇

I'm going to try to keep up with this series, and let's see what comes up about Taiwan 🤔