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creatingblackcharacters · 2 months ago

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“The bulging eyes and the twisted mouth” - Violence, Violent Imagery & Black Horror

TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of death, violence, blood, hate crimes, antiblackness, police violence, rape

Note! I am going to be speaking from a Black American point of view, as my identity informs my experience. That said, antiblackness itself is international. The idea of my Blackness as a threat, as a source of fear and violence to repress and to destroy, is something every Black person in the world that has ever dealt with white supremacy has experienced.

There are two things, I think, that are important to note as we start this conversation.

One: there is a long history of violence towards Black bodies that is due to our dehumanization. People do not care for the killing of a mouse in the way they care about a human. But if you think the people you are dealing with are not people, but animals- more particularly, pests, something distasteful- then you will be able to rationalize treating them as such.

Two: even though we live in a time period where that overt belief of Blackness as inhuman is less likely, we must recognize that there are centuries of belief behind this concept; centuries of arguments and actions that cement in our minds that a certain amount of violence towards Blackness is normal. That subconscious belief you may hold is steeped in centuries of effort to convince you of it without even questioning it. And because of this very real re-enforcement of desensitization, naturally another place this will manifest itself is in how we tell and comprehend stories.

There are also three points I'm about to make first- not the only three that can ever be made, but the ones that stand out the most to me when we talk about violence with Black characters:

One: Your Black readers may experience that scene you wrote differently than you meant anyone to, just because our history may change our perspective on what’s happening.

Two: The idea that Black characters and people deserve the pain they are experiencing.

Three: The disbelief or dismissal of the pain of Black characters and people.

You Better Start Believing In Ghost Stories- You’re In One

I don’t need to tell Black viewers scary fairytales of sadists, body snatchers and noncoincidental disappearances, cannibals, monsters appearing in the night, and dystopian, unjust systems that bury people alive- real life suffices! We recognize the symbolism because we’ve seen real demons.

Some real examples of familiar, terrifying stories that feel like drama, but are real experiences:

12 Years a Slave: “This is no fiction, no exaggeration. If I have failed in anything, it has been in presenting to the reader too prominently the bright side of the picture. I doubt not hundreds have been as unfortunate as myself; that hundreds of free citizens have been kidnapped and sold into slavery, and are at this moment wearing out their lives on plantations in Texas and Louisiana.” – Solomon Northup

When They See Us: I can’t get myself to watch When They See Us, because I learned about the actual trial of the Central Park Five- now the Exonerated Five- in my undergrad program. Five teen Black and brown boys, subjected to racist and cruel policing and vilification in the media- from Donald Trump calling for their deaths in the newspaper, to being imprisoned under what the Clintons deemed a generation of “superpredators” during a “tough on crime” administration. And as audacious as it is to say, as Solomon Northup explained, they were fortunate. The average Black person funneled into the prison system doesn’t get the opportunity to make it back out redeemed or exonerated, because the system is designed to capture and keep them there regardless of their innocence or guilt. Their lives are irreparably changed; they are forever trapped.

Jasper, Texas: Learning about the vicious, gruesome murder of James Byrd Jr, was horrific- and that was just the movie. No matter how “community comes together” everyone tells that story, the reality is that there are people who will beat you, drag you chained down a gravel road for three miles as your body shreds away until you are decapitated, and leave your mangled body in front of a Black church to send a message… Because you’re Black and they hate you. To date I am scared when I’m walking and I see trucks passing me, and don’t let them have the American or the Confederate flag on them. Even Ahmaud Arbery, all he was doing was jogging in his hometown, and white men from out of town decided he should be murdered for that.

Do you want to know what all of these men and boys, from 1841 to 2020, had in common? What they did to warrant what happened to them? Being outside while Black. Some might call it “wrong place wrong time”, but the reality is that there is no “right place”. Sonya Massey, Breonna Taylor- murdered inside their home. Where else can you be, if the danger has every right to barge inside? There is no “safe”.

It is already Frightening to live while Black- not because being Black is inherently frightening, but because our society has made it horrific to do so. But that leads into my next point:

“They Shouldn’t Have Resisted”

Think of all the videos of assaulted and murdered Black people from police violence. If you can stomach going into the comments- which I don’t, anymore- you’ll see this classic comment of hate in the thousands, twisting your stomach into knots:

“if they obeyed the officer, if they didn’t resist, this wouldn’t have happened”

Another way our punitive society normalizes itself is via the idea of respectability politics; the idea that “if you are Good, if you do what you are Supposed to do, you will not be hurt- I will not have to hurt you”. Therefore, if my people are always suffering violence, it must be because we are Bad. And in a society that is already less gracious to Black people, that is more likely to think we are less human, that we are innately bad and must earn the right to be exceptional… the use of excessive violence towards me must be the natural outcome. “If your people weren’t more likely to be criminals, there wouldn’t be the need to be suspicious of you”- that is the way our society has taught us to frame these interactions, placing the blame for our own victimization on us.

Sidebar: I would highly suggest reading The New Jim Crow, written in 2010 by Michelle Alexander, to see how this mentality helps tie into large scale criminalization and mass incarceration, and how the cycle is purposely perpetuated.

You have to constantly be aware of how you look, walk and talk- and even then, that won’t be enough to save you if the time comes. The turning point for me, personally, was the murder of Sandra Bland. If she could be educated, beautiful, a beacon of her community, be everything a “Good” Black person is supposed to be… and still be murdered via police violence, they can kill any of us. And that’s a very terrifying thought- that anything at any point can be the reason for your death, and it will be validated because someone thinks you shouldn’t have “been that way”. And that way has far less to do with what you did, than it does who you are. Being “that way” is Black.

My point is, if this belief is so normalized in real life about violence on Black bodies- that somehow, we must have done something to deserve this- what makes you think that this belief does not affect how you comprehend Black people suffering in stories?

Hippocratic Oath

Human experimentation? Vivisection? Organ stealing? Begging for medicine? Dramatically bleeding out? Not trusting just anyone to see that you are hurt, because they might take advantage? All very real fears. The idea that pain is normal for Black people is especially rampant in the healthcare field, where ideas like our melanin making our skin thick enough to feel less pain (no), an overblown fear of ‘drug misuse’, and believing we are overexaggerating our pain makes many Black people being unwilling to trust the healthcare system. And it comes down to this thought:

If you think that I feel less pain, you will allow me to suffer long before you believe that I am in pain.

I was psychologically spiraling I was in so much pain after my wisdom teeth removal, and my surgeon was more concerned about “addiction to the medication”. Only because Hot Chocolate’s mom is a nurse, did I get an effective medicine schedule. My mother ended up with jaw rot because her surgeon outright claimed that she didn’t believe that she was in more than the ‘healing’ pain after her wisdom teeth were removed. She also has a gigantic, macabre (and awesome fr) scar on her stomach from a c-section she received after four days of labor attempting to have me… all because she was too poor and too Black to afford better doctors who wouldn’t have dismissed her struggles to push.

As a major example of dismissed Black pain: let’s discuss the mortality rate of Black women during childbirth, as well as the likelihood of our children to die. When we say “they will let you bleed to death”, we mean it.

“Black women have the highest maternal mortality rate in the United States — 69.9 per 100,000 live births for 2021, almost three times the rate for white women, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. Black babies are more likely to die, and also far more likely to be born prematurely, setting the stage for health issues that could follow them through their lives.”

Even gynecology roots in dismissal (and taking brutal advantage of) Black women's pain:

“The history of this particular medical branch … it begins on a slave farm in Alabama,” Owens said. “The advancement of obstetrics and gynecology had such an intimate relationship with slavery, and was literally built on the wounds of Black women.” Reproductive surgeries that were experimental at the time, like cesarean sections, were commonly performed on enslaved Black women. Physicians like the once-heralded J. Marion Sims, an Alabama doctor many call the “father of gynecology,” performed torturous surgical experiments on enslaved Black women in the 1840s without anesthesia. And well after the abolition of slavery, hospitals performed unnecessary hysterectomies on Black women, and eugenics programs sterilized them.”

If you think Black characters are not in pain, or that they’re overexaggerating, you’re more likely to be okay with them suffering more in comparison to those whose pain you take more seriously- to those you believe.

What’s My Point?

My point is that whatever terrifying scene you think you’re writing, whatever violent whump scenario you think you’re about to put your Black characters through, there’s a chance it has probably happened and was treated as nonimportant (damn shame, right?) And when those terrifying scenes are both written and read, the way their suffering will be felt depends on how much you as a reader care, how much you believe they are suffering.

There’s a joke amongst readers of color that many dystopian tales are tales of “what happened if white people experienced things that the rest of us have already been put through?” Think concepts like alien invasion and mass eradication of the existing population- you may think of that as an action flick, meanwhile peoples globally have suffered colonization for centuries. The Handmaid’s Tale- forced birthing and raising of “someone else’s” children, always subject to sexual harassment by the Master while subject to hate from the Mistress- that’s just being a Mammy.

There’s nothing wrong with having Black characters be violent or deal with violence, especially in a story where every character is going through shit. That is not the problem! What I am trying to tell you, though, is to be aware that certain violent imagery is going to evoke familiarity in Black viewers. And if I as a Black viewer see my very real traumas treated as entertainment fodder- or worse, dismissed- by the narrative and other viewers, I will probably not want to consume that piece of media anymore. I will also question the intentions and the beliefs of the people who treat said traumas so callously. Now, if that’s not something you care about, that’s on you! But for people who do care, it is something we need to make sure we are catching before we do it.

“So I just can’t write anything?!”

Stop that. There are plenty of examples of stories containing horror and violence with Black characters. There’s an entire genre of us telling our own stories, using the same violence as symbolism. I’m not telling you “no” (least not always). I’m telling you to take some consideration when you write the things that you do. There’s nothing wrong about writing your Black characters being violent or experiencing violence. But there is a difference between making it narratively relevant, and thoughtlessly using them as a “spook”, a stereotypical scary Black person, or a punching bag, especially in a way that may invoke certain trauma.

The Black Guy Dies First

The joke is that we never survive these horror movies because we either wouldn’t be there to begin with, or because we would make better decisions and the narrative can’t have that. But the reality is just that a lot of writers find Black characters- Black people- expendable in comparison to their white counterparts, and it shows. More of a “here, damn” sort of character, not worth investment and easy to shrug off. The book itself I haven’t read, just because it’s pretty new, but I’m looking forward to doing so. But from the summaries, it goes into horror media history and how Black characters have fared in these stories, as well as how that connects to the society those characters were written in. I.e., a thorough version of this lesson.

Instead, I wrote an entire list of questions you could possibly ask yourself involving violence or villainy involving a Black character. Feel free to print it and put it on your wall where you write if you have to! I cannot stress enough that asking yourself questions like these are good both for your creation and just… being less antiblack in general when you consume media.

Black Horror/Black Thriller

We, too, have turned our violent experiences into stories. I continue to highly suggest watching our films and reading our stories to see how we convey our fear, our terror, our violence and our pain. There are plenty of stories that work- Get Out, The Angry Black Girl and her Monster, Candyman, Lovecraft Country (the show) and Nanny are some examples. There’s even a blog by the co-writer of The Black Guy Dies First who runs BlackHorrorMovies where he reviews horror movies from throughout the decades.

Desiree Evans has a great essay, We Need Black Horror More Than Ever, that gets into why this genre is so creative and effective, that I think says what I have to say better than I could.

“Even before Peele, Black horror had a rich literary lineage going back to the folklore of Africa and its Diaspora. Stories of haints, witches, curses, and magic of all kinds can be found in the folktales collected by author and anthropologist Zora Neale Hurston and in the folktales retold by acclaimed children’s book author Virginia Hamilton. One of my earliest childhood literary memories is being entranced by Hamilton’s The House of Dies Drear and Patricia McKissack’s children’s book classic The Dark-Thirty: Southern Tales of the Supernatural, both examples of the ways Black authors have tapped into Black history along with our rich ghostlore.” “Black horror can be clever and subversive, allowing Black writers to move against racist tropes, to reconfigure who stands at the center of a story, and to shift the focus from the dominant narrative to that which is hidden, submerged. To ask: what happens when the group that was Othered, gets to tell their side of the story?”

For on the nose simplicity, I’m going to use hood classic Tales From The Hood (1994) as an example of how violence can be integrated into Black horror tales. Tales From The Hood is like… The Twilight Zone by Black people. Messages discussing issues in our community, done through a mystical twist. Free on Tubi! If you want to stop here before some spoilers, it’s an hour and a half. A great time!

In the first story, a Black political activist is murdered by the cops. The scene is reflective of the real-world efforts to discredit and even murder activists speaking out against police violence, as well as the types of things done to criminalize Black citizens for capture. The song Strange Fruit plays in the background, to drive the point home that this is a lynching.

The second story deals with a Black little boy experiencing abuse in the home, drawing a green monster to show his teacher why he’s covered in wounds and is lashing out at school.

The fourth story is about a gangbanger who undergoes “behavioral modification” to be released from prison early. Think of the classic scene from A Clockwork Orange. He must watch as imagery of the Klan and of happy whites lynching Black bodies (real-life pictures and video, mind you!) play into his mind alongside gang violence.

Isn’t Violence Stereotypical or antiblack?

That last story from Tales From The Hood leads into a good point. It can be! But it does not have to be! Violence is a human experience. By suggesting we don’t experience it or commit it, you would be denying everything I’ve just spoken about. We don’t have to be racist to write our Black characters in violent situations. We also don’t have to comprehend those situations through a racist lens.

Even experiences that seem “stereotypical” do not have to be comprehended that way. I get a LOT of questions about if something is stereotypical, and my response is always that it depends on the writing!!! You could give me a harmless prompt and it becomes the most racist story ever once you leave my inbox. But you could give me a “stereotypical” prompt and it be genuine writing.

Let’s take the movie Juice for example. Juice in my honest to God opinion becomes a thriller about halfway in. On its surface, Juice looks like bad Black boys shooting and cursing and doing things they aren’t supposed to be doing! Incredibly stereotypical- violent young thugs. You might think, “you shouldn’t write something like this- you’re telling everyone this is what your community is like”. First- there’s that respectability politics again! Just because something is not a “respectable” story does not mean it doesn’t need to be told!

But if we’re actually paying attention, what we’re looking at is four young boys dealing with their environment in different ways. All four of them originally stick together to feel power amongst their brotherhood as they all act tough and discover their own identities. They are not perfect, but they are still kids. In this environment, to be tough, to be strong, you do the things that they are doing. You run from cops, you steal from stores, you mess with all the girls and talk shit and wave weapons. That’s what makes you “big”. That’s what gives you the “juice”- and the “juice” can make you untouchable.

I want to focus particularly on Bishop, yes, played by Tupac. Bishop, the antagonist of Juice, is particularly powerless, angry, and scared of the world around him. He puts on a big front of bravado, yelling, cursing, and talking big because he’s tired of being afraid, and he doesn’t know how to deal with it otherwise. So when he gets access to a gun- to power- he quickly spirals out of control. His response to his fear is to wave around a tool that makes him feel stronger, that stops the things that scare him from scaring him.

Now, that is not a unique tale! That is a tale that any race could write about, particularly young white men with gun violence! If you ever cared for Fairuza Balk’s character in The Craft, it is a similar fall from grace. But because it is on a young, Black man in the hood, audiences are less likely to empathize with Bishop. And granted, Bishop is unhinged! But many a white character has been, and is not shoved into a stereotype that white people cannot escape from!

Now would I be comfortable if a nonblack person attempted to write a narrative like Juice? Yes, because I’d worry about the tendency to lose the messaging and just fall into stereotype outright. But it can be done! The story can be told!

“But if Black violence bad, why rap?”

The short answer:

“In order for me to write poetry that isn’t political, I must listen to the birds, and in order to hear the birds, the warplanes must be silent.”

Marwhan Makhoul, Palestinian Poet

First, rap is not “only violence and misogyny”. Step your understanding of the genre up; there are plenty of options outside of the mainstream that don’t discuss those things. Second, every genre of music has mainstream popular songs about vice and sin. The idea that Black rappers have to be held to a higher standard is yet another example of how we are seen as inherently bad and must prove ourselves good. We could speak about nothing but drugs and alcohol and 1) there would still be white artists who do the very same and 2) we would still deserve to be treated like humans.

That said, many- not all- rappers rap about violence for the same reason Billy Joel wrote We Didn’t Start the Fire, the same reason Homer first spoke The Iliad- because they have something to say about it! They stand in a long tradition of people using poetry and rhythm to tell stories. Rap is an art of storytelling!

Rap is often used as an expression of frustration and righteous anger against a system built to keep us trapped within it. I’m not allowed to be angry? Why wouldn’t I be angry? Anger is a protective emotion, often when one feels helpless. Young Black people also began to reclaim and glorify the violence they lived in within their music, to take pride in their survival and in their success in a world that otherwise wanted them to fail. If I think the world fights against me no matter what I do, I’d rather live in pride than in shame with a bent head. Is it right? Maybe, maybe not. But if you don’t want them to rap about violence, why not alleviate the things leading to the violence in their environment?

Whether you choose to listen to their words, because the delivery scares you- and trust, angry Black men scared the music industry and society- doesn’t make the story any less valid!

Conclusion

I am going to drop a classic by Slick Rick called Children’s Story. I think listening to it- and I mean genuinely listening- summarizes what I’ve said here about how Black creators can tell stories, even violent ones, and how even the delivery through Blackness can change how you perceive them. Please take the time to listen before continuing.

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I’ve been alive for 28 years and have known this song my whole life, and it just hit me tonight: not once is the kid in this story identified as Black! My perception of this story was completely altered by my own experiences, who told the story, and how it was told.

That’s what I’m trying to tell you. You can tell stories of violence that involve Black characters. I love and adore a good hurt/comfort myself! But you need to be cognizant of your audience and how they’ll perceive the story you’re telling, and that includes the types of imagery you include. It’s not effective catharsis via hurt/comfort for the audience if your Black readers are being completely left out of the comfort. “I wrote this for myself” that’s cool, but… if you wrote racism for yourself, and you’re willing to admit that to yourself, that’s on you. I’d like to think that’s not your intention! You can write these stories of woe and pain without mistreating your Black characters- but that requires knowing and acknowledging when and how you’re doing that!

@afropiscesism makes a solid point in this post: our horror stories are not just fairytales full of amorphous boogiemen meant to teach lessons. Racial violence is very real, very alive, and we cannot act like the things we write can be dismissed outright as “oh well it’s not real”. Sure, those characters aren’t real. But the way you feel about Black bodies and violence is, and often it can slip into your writing as a pattern without you even realizing it. Be willing to get uncomfortable and check yourself on this as you write, as well as noticing it in other works!

If you’re constantly thinking “I would never do this”, you’ll never stop yourself when you inevitably do! If you know what violent imagery can be evoked, you can utilize it or avoid it altogether- but only if you’re willing to get honest about it. You might not intend to do any of this, but it doesn’t matter if you don’t change the pattern, because as always, it’s the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!

#creatingblackcharacters #long post #writing #writing black characters #black character design #black history #media history

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wonderjanga · 3 months ago

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Marvel Being a Terrible “Dad”

In the league’s point of view, Billy has to be a terrible dad… and if he’s not their dad… why is a grown ass man hanging around with these kids? So for peace of mind, they assume Jr. and Mary are his kids. I mean, they kinda look like him. Kinda. Like, I can already see a good portion of them not really liking that he’s letting Freddy and Mary fight bloodthirsty monsters and villains. But, even the heroes that don’t mind that have to take a minute to process Marvel congratulating Mary for going off and doing something extremely reckless:

*They all just watched as Mary flew into an alien spaceship to take it down from the inside out. They knew nothing about the ship, just that it was hostile.*

Mary: *Flies back down from the ship, covered in soot. Lands by Marvel.*

Superman: *Flies over to them* “That was extremely reck—”

Billy: *cuts off* “Mary, that was amazing!”

Superman: “Cap, that wasn’t amazing. It was extremely reckless! She could’ve gotten herself killed!” *gestures to Mary wildly.*

Billy: “But she didn’t!” *gives thumbs up* “Come on, let’s get victory ice cream.”

*The two fly off*

*All of them are talking about their kids, eating together at a little lunch table in the Watchtower’s cafeteria like middle schoolers*

Superman: “I wouldn’t let Jon fight any of my villains alone. Most of them, anyways.”

Billy: “Why? Is he not strong enough?”

Superman: “Well, I’m sure he is, but I don’t want him to get hurt, or traumatized. Being a hero can be harsh at times. He’s just a kid.”

Billy: “So? Just cause he’s a kid doesn’t mean that he can’t fight. Just let him.”

Superman: “What? I can’t just let him. How would you feel if Junior or Mary had to fight Black Adam on their own?”

Billy: *shrugs* “Depends. Are they gonna fight him individually or together?”

Batman: *Eating a bat shaped sandwich, made by Alfred* “Individually.”

Billy: “Oh, yeah. Sure. I could trust them to handle Adam alone. I don’t think they could incapacitate him though. A couple times, when I’ve been busy, they’ve held him off for me until I get there.”

Flash: “You just let two little kids (Freddy and Mary look like pre-teens) go out and fight Black Adam? The same Black Adam that destroyed like a quarter of Metropolis in a day?”

Billy: “When you put it like that, it sounds crazy.” *Eats spaghettios*

Green Lantern: “Dude, it is crazy.”

Billy: “Wha? No it’s not. Wondy, when’d you start training for being a whole Amazonian warrior princess?”

Wonder Woman: “When I started adolescence.” *Eats ice cream*

Billy: “Seeeee? It’s fine.”

Martian Manhunter: “How old exactly are Mary and Junior?” *Also eats ice cream*

Billy: “Mary’s eleven and Junior’s twelve, they’re close enough.”

*All except Marvel exchange slightly concerned glances*

*Marvel and Junior are bickering next to one of the windows of the Watchtower.*

Black Canary: *Minding her own business and walks past them.*

Billy: “How about I slam your head through this window so we can really see if you can breathe in space, huh?”

*Canary pauses, and wow. Junior didn’t even flinch. That’s actually crazy. The bickering just got worse. This really doesn’t look good from a licensed therapist’s point of view.*

#billy batson #mary batson #mary bromfield #freddy freeman #black adam #the justice league #superman #batman #dc comics #martian manhunter #wonder woman #black canary #the flash #wally west #green lantern #hal jordan #captain marvel dc #dc captain marvel #shazam

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ellecdc · 6 months ago

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elle, my love. my darling. could I be the biggest pest and request maybe something with our beloved barty jr? like maybe you know of him but don’t really know him but someone is bugging you at a party and you ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend and he plays the role just a little too well?

Ilysm darling 🖤

for you, sab? anything

Barty Crouch Junior x fem!reader who asks him to pretend to be her boyfriend

CW: harassment - a guy won't leave reader alone at a bar, drinking/bar culture, there is perhaps one sentence that is sort of explicit but the rest is PG and then fades to black

You had tried everything to shake this guy off of you; from polite no thank you’s, to hiding in the loo, to pretending not to notice when he was standing right beside you. You had even attempted the tried-and-true “I have a boyfriend”, to which he simply replied “I don’t see him anywhere”.

You were soon going to resort to a well-timed uppercut, and though you did think the man deserved a good fist to the nose, you weren’t quite willing to resort to violence - yet.

You were ducking behind raised arms and navigating around bodies in an attempt to rid yourself of your tormentor when salvation came in the form of an unlikely classmate.

“Junior!” You whisper shouted - a name you heard many of his friends refer to him as - as you slid in between him and the bar he was lazily sat at; if you could call what he was doing sitting. He was perched, possibly less than half of each arse cheek actually on the stool, with both of his legs splayed out in a way that would get anyone else punched in the teeth for daring to take up so much room at a bar, but he blended in like he was simply part of the decor.

“Do I know you, sugar?” He drawled from the rim of his cup; green eyes scrutinizing you though he seemed no less pleased by your proximity due to his unfamiliarity with you.

“I- sorry, we have statistics together?”

Barty simply swallowed his sip and continued staring at you.

“Mondays and Wednesdays? 1:30 to 3:00?” You clarified.

He blinked slowly at that.

“With Professor Flitwick.”

“Yeah, yeah; third row from the back, prefers taking handwritten notes but insists on hauling your laptop ‘round with you too which acts as no more than a glorified paperweight. You have a fuzzy jumper that you wear almost everywhere.”

“I- well…yeah?”

“Right, so how does that bring us here?” He continued as if you had been the one making this conversation particularly difficult.

“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend.” You blurted.

“Okay.” Barty agreed readily with a shrug as he placed his now empty cup on the bar. “Why?”

Stunned somewhat stupid by his willingness, you suddenly remembered that you had someone pursuing you.

“There’s this bloke-”

“Which bloke?” He cut you off, sliding one of his legs between both of yours before pulling you towards him so you were just about straddling his thigh.

In an attempt to hide your blush at Barty’s blaseness, and what you would later tell yourself was you simply trying to lean into the part of girlfriend, you nuzzled into Barty’s side to purvey the surrounding crowd.

“That guy there, with the beanie.” You whispered into his ear as you gestured towards the guy; swallowing the surprised yelp that threatened to escape your lips when you felt Barty’s possessive protective arm tighten around your middle.

“Well…” Barty murmured quietly, turning his chin back towards you; his lips hovering just over your collarbone. “That just won’t do, will it?”

You shook your head quickly, ignoring the racing of your heart, the way that the bass vibrated through your core, or the heat that was beginning to pool inside of you as he propped up his knee so that you were now officially straddling his thigh.

“Has he been bugging you, doll?” He asked lowly then, bringing his hand that wasn’t currently wrapped around your waist to push a lock of hair away from your face.

“He won’t leave me alone.” You whispered; finding yourself embarrassingly close to tears for the first time all night, simply because some random guy who showed up to perhaps half of your shared statistics classes (though he somehow still had perfect scores) was offering you his protection.

A sympathetic dent in between Barty’s eyebrows formed at your words as he pouted at you. “My poor girl.” He all but purred as he brought his face mere millimeters away from yours before bumping his nose to your own. “How do you want this to go?” He whispered.

“Whichever way it needs to so that he’ll leave me alone.”

Apparently not needing any further directions, Barty slotted your lips together with an intensity that had your head ringing as he pulled you higher up onto his lap; body’s so close you were almost certain you could feel his heartbeat in your own chest.

His hand that was wrapped around your waist started to slide up the back of your shirt where he rubbed the skin of your lower back, as the other rested just under your jaw, his touch far softer and more delicate than the way in which he kissed you.

You leaned further into him, whimpering at the sensation of your core sliding tantalizingly against his denim pants; the thin satiny material of your panties no match for the electricity of feeling so wholly consumed by Barty Crouch Junior.

You’d almost forgotten this was all a ruse when Barty abruptly pulled away from you.

“Oi! You got a fuckin’ problem?” He shouted at your stalker, garnering the attention of a few bar patrons around you.

You sunk impossibly further into Barty’s side at the attention, and relished in the gentle strokes he brushed at the skin of your hip in response.

“Is there a problem?” One of the bartenders barked then; looking a certain brand of intense you supposed was likely part of the training to be a bartender at a club in a college town.

“This tosser’s been bothering my girl all night.” Barty responded simply, weaseling his other arm around your middle as he returned his attention back to you. “You okay, sugar?”

You nodded at him and rested your forehead against his as you let out a steadying breath. “Thank you.”

Barty snorted at that. “‘Course, what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t look out for my girl, hm?”

You chuckled breathlessly before smiling softly at him, noticing that he was doing the same as his emerald gaze darted between your eyes.

“Wanna get out of here?” He whispered as he dared to inch his hand further up your back.

God, did you ever.

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hkpika07 · 2 years ago

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Get ready for me exploding in the tags

what's everyone's favorite mario character?

#dear god you can’t make me choose #but uhhhhhhh okay okay #bros get top bidding. I cannot choose one without choosing the other. they are a pair do not seperate #but then bowser is also top bunk because his writing in literally everything he’s been in is the best shit I’ve ever read in any game ever #he’s just so charming and funny and delightfully corny in an evil way #now for the spin offs. paper Mario first #Olivia and count Bleck are my faves in that regard I would kill for Olivia actually. and -falls to the floor and explodes- Bleck.#Olivia is just so so bright and sunshine and lovely wonderful helper I love her so god damn much she’s everything to me #and bleck’s story is the best Mario story known to man and I want to chew through the earth’s mantle when I think about it too hard #PEACH BELOVED PEACH YOU GET SO MUCH CHARACTERIZATION IN THE PAPER MARIO FRANCHISE I ADORE YOU AND ALL YOUR SPUNK.#dimentio is a good second. delightful bastard. but I also really really like Bobbery from ttyd #also Watt from Pm64 they’re everything they’re such a little baby (literslly)#WAIT TIPPI HOW COULD I FORGET TIPPI IM SO SORRY MY LOVE TIPPI MY BELOVED I ADORE HER AND HER SASS AND DETERMINED WILL AND KINDNESS AND—#sports game spin offs. waluigi. obviously.#now you might say Red. Isn’t he a main character? no. he only appears in the spin off games #Daisy. butch bisexual love of my life #Luigi games let’s go. King Boo aesthetically fucks. but also I really like Egad and whatever the fuck he’s doing #For portrait ghosts I really like Morty and the twins Wilbur and Orville #Mario and Luigi rpg games there’s too many to choose from #But off the top of my head Antasma. Peasley. Fawful. those Russian guys from Dream team #The block guy who has all the blitties and you get a special bowser attack for finding all of them #Mario RPG on snes Geno is really the most memorable character there #favorite of the Koopa kids? no. I refuse to choose a favorite there. they are all so special to me #-points to koopalings and bowser Jr.- my kids. I share custody with their father #I always had a soft spot for Wendy and Ludwig though. so if I listed them out those would be the first I think of #favorite star spirit is Skolar #muskular and eldstar are a close second #favorite minion is all buzzybeetles and koopatrols #favorite non minion enemy is wiggler #congrats you unlocked my autism

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bowandbrush · 28 days ago

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Ideas/things I think are underutilized in rottmnt fanworks:

-Piebald

-Leo’s “lucky rock” (air turtle ep. for reference)

-the fact that Big mama willingly participated in the “doom dome” and maybe even at the Nexus at one point

-Lou Jitsu’s past and relatives

-the multitude of spirits seen in the s2 finale

-mystic trinkets and artifacts (you can never have too many!)

-yokai background characters

-the hidden city seemingly being run by fear (mobsters, power, etc.)

-more hidden cities outside of NY

-Baron Draxum being driven to a villain role only because he sought to protect the yokai race (he isn’t all that evil)

-Leo’s disgust of romance (…at least develop Leo into a romance role…)

-Donnie isn’t averse to EVERYTHING goopy and weird. (Like the yokai pizza he ate w/Leo in “operation: normal” and the Joey pouch he sat in with Leo in “hidden city job”)

-Sunita. look, she clearly has a taste for fashion (the fashion turtle pointed THAT out) and she chose to go into SCIENCE/biology class, out of many options. She would be besties with Donnie.

-those crab brothers

-tmnt iteration crossovers (there isn’t enough out there)

-Donnie (probably) being the medic (y’all are gonna hate me for this. But. I honestly don’t see that much to support medic Leo. it makes an excellent headcanon though! It looks like Donnie designed the entire medbay and patented the suits and whatnot in “down with the sickness”. Also he started spewing medical-talk when unmutated piebald fell out of the fishbowl.

-MAYHEM

-Senor Hueso’s son (Hueso Jr?)

-other Yojimbo/samurai rabbit characters! I’m tired of ONLY seeing usagi. Where’s gen? Chizu? Katsuichi? At least do your research y’all pleassseee. At least read a wiki page because so many usagis I’m seeing are so ooc that he’s just there to be Leo’s love interest. Cmon.

-Draxum’s son sloppy joe(seph)

-Characters from the rottmnt comics.

-Battle Nexus monsters (Lou Jitsu mostly fought hydras, big creatures, etc.)

-Renet!!!

-other characters from pre-existing tmnt iterations (Rocksteady, leatherhead, tigerclaw, Lita, Bebop, I could go on….)

-the turtles adopting a cat (rise Mikey hasn’t had the best of luck with cats though)

-space adventures! Triceratons! Aliens! Robots! please

-sibling kisses. Hugs and stuff. Now.

-Big Mama redemption arc??? I still haven’t seen one. She was actually pretty close to redemption towards the finale. We haven’t seen her in the movie, so who knows?

#Rottmnt #Tmnt #rise of tmnt #saverottmnt #rottmnt au

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iamgonnagetyouback · 2 months ago

Note

Hello!! Could you do a Regulus x Reader who is Barty's twin sister, maybe? It can be, like, just Barty being veeery dramatic his best friend is dating his "Precious Treasure, baby sister Y/N"

(If you want, could you do reader as Ravenclaw? I am one myself so that's why haha)

regulus black x crouch!reader who is 'defiled' by him

You’d been sneaking off to meet Regulus for weeks under the guise of “study sessions.” Barty, bless his oblivious heart, bought it every time. But today, as fate would have it, you and Regulus were actually studying. You were sitting across from each other, surrounded by books, and for once, neither of you had so much as brushed hands.

Then the door burst open with a bang, and Barty stormed in, dragging a nonchalant-looking Evan at his side.

“REGULUS BLACK!” Barty bellowed, face red, practically foaming at the mouth. “HOW DARE YOU—”

You and Regulus jerked up, blinking at him with wide eyes. “Uh, Barty?” you ventured, pushing your Transfiguration book aside. “What’s wrong?”

Barty froze mid-rant, taking in the scene. The neatly aligned notes. The genuine, palpable… studying.

“Oh.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting from you to Regulus and back, as if desperately seeking a hint of anything he could use against the Slytherin. “I… uh. Right.” He looked at Evan, hoping for support.

“Yes,” Evan said blandly, “it looks very… scandalous, Barty.”

With an awkward cough and a dramatic hair toss, Barty turned on his heel, leaving the room as though he hadn’t just made a grand scene. You and Regulus waited a beat after the door clicked shut, then sighed in unison, sharing a relieved laugh.

But, naturally, peace was never meant to last.

A week later, you and Regulus finally let your guard down. You’d snuck into a secluded corner, exchanging long, soft kisses, when a horrified gasp echoed through the corridor.

“OH, MY TREASURED, PRECIOUS SISTER!” Barty’s voice thundered as he gaped at the two of you, Evan standing dutifully by his side with an unreadable expression. “ARE YOU SEEING THIS, EVAN?”

“Yes, Barty,” Evan deadpanned, “it’s… devastating. Truly. I may cry.”

Barty’s hand flew to his forehead, looking seconds from fainting. “REGULUS BLACK, YOU FILTHY SCOUNDREL! HOW DARE YOU—”

“Oh, Merlin,” you muttered, pulling away from Regulus, face red with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “Barty, please, it’s not that serious.”

“NOT THAT SERIOUS?” Barty’s eyes were wild. “My baby sister! My delicate, angelic sister, defiled by—by him!”

Evan’s lips twitched as he watched the spectacle, glancing at Regulus, who was entirely amused. “Well, you’re not wrong, Barty. It’s horrific.”

You huffed, crossing your arms with a smirk, looking every bit as sassy as Regulus. Barty, unable to handle it, marched off with a huff, refusing to speak to either of you. For the next week, he only addressed you both through Evan.

“Evan, tell her I refuse to be betrayed by my own blood.”

“Evan, tell Black he can burn in the deepest pits of Azkaban.”

Evan looked mildly entertained, relaying each line with a deadpan that had you and Regulus nearly in stitches every time.

Finally, though, when you and Regulus refused to go groveling back, Barty stormed up to the two of you in the common room, brandishing a very long list of what he called “The Rules of Courtship According to Barty Crouch Jr.”

“Listen, you two!” he declared, waving his list like a sword. “If you want to keep dating, you’ll have to agree to my conditions.”

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms. “Alright, Barty. Let’s hear them.”

He cleared his throat, glancing at Evan for dramatic emphasis. “Condition one: Regulus shall send me weekly updates regarding his intentions.”

Regulus smirked, nodding with faux seriousness. “Of course, Barty. I’ll draft a parchment immediately.”

“Condition two,” Barty continued, “any romantic gesture that may involve public displays of affection will be cleared by me first.”

You bit back a laugh, looking at Regulus, who gave you a wink. “Completely understandable,” you replied, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Condition three: If Regulus breaks your heart,” Barty paused, swallowing, “I reserve the right to challenge him to a wizard’s duel.”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Very noble of you, Barty.”

Barty ignored him, watching you both expectantly. “Do we have a deal?”

Regulus put a hand on his heart, leaning in toward you with mock reverence. “If that’s what it takes to keep you, love,” he murmured, looking like he was seconds away from laughing.

You turned to Barty with a playful smile, saluting him with a mischievous sparkle in your eyes. “Deal, Barty. I’ll keep your conditions in mind.”

Barty huffed, looking pleased with himself but suspicious, muttering under his breath about how “it better be taken seriously.” But as he stomped off with Evan in tow, you and Regulus just exchanged a look, barely managing to hold in your laughter until he was out of earshot.

And for the next few weeks, Barty would “accidentally” stumble upon you two in the most innocent scenarios—Regulus helping you with homework, walking you to class, even reading quietly together in the common room. He would leave with an awkward salute or finger guns every time he was deemed wrong.

hey, lovie!! thank you so much for requesting. it is a non-specified house so you can go with ravenclaw if you want. hope you like it

#regulus black fluff #regulus black x reader #regulus black #reggie black #crouch!reader #ivy's soft scribbles ೀ

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lovemybluebully · 5 months ago

Text

A Small Lapse of Judgement

What do you get when you cross a drunk Wolverine? Tickled. You get tickled. 🤣

Okay, yeah sorry guys. This one is literally like twice as long as my last one, but Logan and Wade both needed to get wrecked good. lol I'm just having too much fun writing these guys. So get some snacks or something because you're going to be here for a minute.

More somewhat movie spoilers, and Wade saying inappropriate things to Logan's annoyance. lol Oh, and of course tons of cussing. And tickles. Lots of tickles.

"Deadpool and Wolverine"-verse

M/M Tickle Fic

Word Count: 4,372

At first Logan had declined Wade's invitation to live with him at his apartment. Having been on his own for so long Logan didn't want to accept the fact that anyone actually wanted him around, but after Wade's persistent prodding and convincing he finally accepted.

"Yes!! It'll be like a sexy slumber party!" Wade had whooped, but one steely-eyed look from Logan made him turn it down, "Ahem. Or, you know, just two guys hanging out together with no lewd activities of any kind...."

No doubt Wade pushed Logan's buttons and got on his nerves more than anyone he had ever met in his life, but after their ordeal together there was no denying the bond that had been created between the two of them. It was hard for him to admit it, but Wade was definitely someone Logan now considered as a friend.

Surprisingly he settled in quickly and had begun to make himself comfortable, allowing him to let his guard down and actually relax for once. It was only a one-bedroom apartment so even though he had to sleep out on the couch every night he was grateful to have a place to call home.

And Wade was thrilled to have him there. Unlike his other roommate, Blind Al, Logan was progressively becoming more tolerant of his off the wall antics so it was nice to have someone else there that he could really joke around with. And drink with, though Logan still tended to embark on some solo day drinking of his own.

Wade shuffled into the living room in his crocs one late evening with Dogpool cradled in his arm to find Logan slouched over on the couch in nothing but jeans and a tank top and a nearly empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. Further observation revealed there to be two more empty bottles laying around on the ground by his feet.

"Hey. Robert Downey Jr. Wanna take it easy on the booze?"

Logan lazily looked up at him, rolling his eyes when he saw Wade was allowing the dog to lick all over his face.

"I will once ya take it easy on always making out with that mutt."

Wade stared at him in defiance as he continued to kiss Dogpool's head while she licked all around his mouth, making Logan grimace in disgust before Wade set her down upon the ten-sizes-too-big dog bed he had bought for her.

"You know if you were jealous all you had to do was ask, baby girl. There's plenty of Wade Wilson to go around," he leaped onto the couch beside Logan and puckered his lips, making smooching sounds as he tried to pull the other man close while Logan cursed and struggled to hold him back.

"Hey hey! Fucking knock it off, asshole!" Despite his annoyance he chuckled a little with the alcohol lightening his mood and after a few more seconds Wade finally relented to sit himself back.

"You can fight it all you want, but I know you'll come around one day. There's no resisting my natural labido," Wade sat facing him as he gave a wink and a flirty grin, causing Logan to sigh with a shake of his head and take another sip from the bottle.

"See this is exactly why I still drink. I need something to help tolerate your obnoxious ass on a daily basis."

"Fine by me. It has its benefits. Number one being that you're so much less stabby when you're like this," Wade teased, wiggling a finger into his side as Logan squirmed and giggled before swatting at his hand with boozed up coordination.

"Why are ya always tickling me? I hate that shit," Logan was still smiling though as he rubbed at his irritated ribs.

"Because," Wade smiled and turned to look out at the audience before whispering quietly under his breath, "The people demand it."

He sat staring in silence for several seconds until Logan lifted a brow in confusion.

"The fuck you looking at?"

"Nothing," Wade turned back to him, "Well it's because I have to make you laugh somehow, grumpy pants. You're always so serious, and worst of all you never laugh at my jokes."

"Oh yeah? Have ya tried actually being funny?" A big shit eating grin was plastered on Logan's face as he instinctively pulled his arms in close to his body, not expecting Wade to let that one slide.

"Ooh hoo hoo, you're going to pay for that one later. You know what, smart ass? Maybe I'll tickle you in front of Laura. I'm sure she'd love to help me double team you sometime. A little badger on badger action, if you will."

It was Wade's turn to smirk as Logan just looked back at him with nervous eyes that he tried to hide behind the scowl now creasing over his face.

"You'd better fuckin' not."

"I don't know. It's sounding like a pretty good idea to me. Usually I have to pay to see that kind of thing but-"

Logan growled as his claws started to come out, but Wade just laughed and wagged a finger at him.

"Ah ah ah! Rule number one, no bloodshed in the house. So best keep those claws of yours in check, my little kitty cat."

"Just don't give me a reason then," Logan warned, retracting the claws before his eyes raised to focus on Wade's head, "By the way, how long are ya gonna keep wearing that stupid toupee? I already told you that you ain't foolin' anyone with that thing."

Wade looked positively insulted as he patted and smoothed down the hair on his head.

"Uhmm excuse me? As I've told you a thousand times, it's a hair system. It's so I can go out in public looking halfway decent. Not all of us were blessed with the perfect bone structure of a successful Broadway actor," turns his head briefly to look at the camera, "And besides, I think it looks quite distinguished."

"I've seen better looking roadkill than whatever that thing's made out of," Logan snorted and downed the rest of the bottle in his hand before dropping it on the floor beside the other empty bottles.

"Says the guy who looks like he has roadkill glued to the sides of his face," Wade gave a less than gentle tug on his muttonchops as Logan grunted and smacked his hand away.

"Oh yeah? Well at least I can grow facial hair, pal. You on the other hand don't have a speck of hair on your whole goddamn body. You're like a fucking pre-pubescent child. This is what a real man looks like," a tipsy smirk crawled across his face as he nonchalantly pulled up his tank top to show off his hairy chest and stomach.

He emphasized his point by running a hand over his hirsute, muscular torso while Wade just stared very, very hard.

"........Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it's working," Wade was smiling deviously and reaching a hand out as Logan chuckled dryly and gave him a hard shove, sending him flying to the other end of the couch, "Just so you know, I'm adding that one to the spank bank."

"You fucking wish, bub. Think ya got a better chance with that ugly ass dog of yours," he nodded over towards the sleeping pooch while tugging his shirt back down.

It was rare to see such a repulsed look on Wade's face as the man always seemed to be down for whatever but apparently messing with the dog was where he drew a line.

"Woah woah, that's just going too far now. You need therapy, my friend."

"Oh please. I forgot you were the fucking poster child for mental stability," Logan muttered as he lifted his legs to prop his bare feet up on the coffee table in front of him.

"Heyheyhey! What in the ever-living fuck do you think you are doing? That's where we cut up our Bolivian nose candy-"

"I thought Feige said ya can't talk about that."

"Well what Feige doesn't know won't hurt him. Now let's go. Chop chop. Feet off the table, bud," Wade scolded and kicked Logan in the leg as the man rolled his eyes and begrudgingly pulled his feet down.

"You are such a fucking caveman. That table is an antique. Furniture crafted from the finest-OOof!" Wade grunted in pain as Logan dropped his feet onto his lap with his heel coming down hard onto his groin, "Uh uh nope. Not happening. Feet off the Deadpool too."

"Well I gotta put 'em somewhere. What? Offended that ya weren't my first choice? Be flattered I finally found a good use for you," Logan smirked big time at the genuine outrage that now displayed on Wade's face.

"What the fuck do you mean?! You've seen what a phenomenal cook I am!"

"Almost burned down the apartment."

"I'm the king of late-night karaoke!"

"Got the cops called on us three times already."

"Well I'm good at making friends everywhere I go."

"I had to beat the shit out of all those bikers to get them off of you. Not to mention you almost got us banned from my favorite bar, you dumb fuck."

Wade started to pout from Logan shooting down all of his claims, but was quickly back to grinning as he thought of something that Logan couldn't possibly argue against.

"Okay, you know what? You wanna see something I'm good at? I'll show you something I'm very good at," Wade smirked and grabbed ahold of Logan's legs, securing his ankles in one arm as he began ruthlessly tickling the bottoms of his feet.

Logan lost any sense of calm he had as he immediately broke into a hysterical laughing fit, figuring out too late that he had made a huge mistake. There weren't many things in life that could get the Wolverine to lose his cool, but Wade Wilson the Tickle Monster never failed.

"Baahahahahahaha! Wahahahahade, dohohohon't!! Okaahaahaahaay! I'll mooohoohoove 'em!!"

Logan was far too buzzed to pull his usual act of fighting back his reactions and trying to pretend that he wasn't as horribly sensitive as he really was. Not that any of that ever discouraged Wade since he knew he'd always get him to crack eventually.

"Nah, that's okay. You just keep them right where they are, Giggles. Maybe this'll teach you some manners. Or not, that's okay too. I wouldn't want to run out of excuses to do this....," he scratched at the soles with Logan going nuts and frantically pulling at his captured legs while Wade's arm only squeezed tighter around them to ensure he wouldn't escape.

"Stahahahaaap, ya dihihihick! Fuhuhuhuckin' lehehehehe-lehehet me gohohohohooo!"

"What's that? Aww did you forget your safe word again? So confusing. How do I know if you really want me to stop or not?" The merc teased with his fingers scribbling at Logan's arches as the X-man's laughter surged in volume.

"Fuhuhuhuhuck you! Aaaheheeheeheehee nohohoho! Waahaait! I'm sohohohohorry!" He howled with tears already in his eyes as Wade found the weak spots under his toes; his body twisting and flopping around as he braced his arms on the couch in his clumsy attempts to get free.

Wade always enjoyed when Logan was in this state. Not only was he a lot less homicidal than if he was sober but he wasn't nearly as uptight and didn't even fight the tickles as hard. He practically just rolled over and took it and didn't hold much back.

He suspected that Logan didn't hate being tickled nearly as much as he made out and loved to tease him about it much to the older man's insistent denial of the fact. It's likely that Logan would rather die than ever admit something like that.

Wade then cleared his throat and began to speak in his best exaggerated Australian accent.

"Crikey mate! Here we have the Wolverine. Best known for its violent tendencies and natural ability to be a complete jackass. When confronted by a stronger and more powerful predator it begins to make the most adorable snorting sounds that are meant as a sign of his submission. Let's listen in, shall we?"

Logan had been belting out uncontrollable snorts all throughout his laughter and it was one of Wade's favorite things to poke fun at him for.

"Shhh-Shuhuhuhut uhuhuhup! You're sohohohoho fuhuhucking stuhuhuhupid!"

"Oh, I'm fucking stupid? Who's the one making all the little piggy noises, Wilbur? Speaking of piggies....," Wade smirked as he started to play with his toes again, "This little piggy was an alcoholic....This little piggy was always so mean to his friend, Wade.....This little piggy talked shit about sweet little Dogpool....This little piggy..."

"Fuhuhuhuhuuuck! Alrihihihihight I gihihihive uhuhup! Haahahahaah! No-No mohohohore!" Logan had managed to pull a foot free and was now kicking Wade in the back as hard as he could, which wasn't very hard at all due his weakened state from laughing so much.

"No more? No MORE? Sorry, sweet cheeks. But I've got plenty more," Wade then threw his foot aside as he turned and dove onto Logan's prone form to now attack his very ticklish stomach, "That was for treating me like an object! This is for saying I'm not funny!"

Wade snickered with glee as the feral man expelled a less than manly squeal of giggles and immediately curled into a protective ball, though all attempts to evade were useless. Deadpool was positively relentless.

"Nooooohohohohohoo nohohohot thehehehehere! Okahahaay you're funny! You're fuhuhuhuhuhunnyyyyyaaahahahahahaaStaahahahahahaaap!"

"Oh sure! All of a sudden I'm just magically funny now! Don't insult my intelligence! You can't bullshit a bullshitter!" Wade managed to get his hands underneath Logan's shirt, raking his fingers up and down his bare stomach and forcing him to dissolve into a lengthy, mirthful wheeze.

"Why are you so ticklish? Is it part of your mutation? A result of a Weapon X experiment gone horribly wrong? Talk, damn you! I need answers!"

Not that Wade actually expected him to answer, but Logan was laughing entirely too hard and fighting it even less. He had his head thrown back in hysterics that exposed his oversized canines, writhing feebly while tears were leaking down his reddened cheeks.

It was a sight to see the normally powerful X-man rendered helpless from such a soft touch, but it just goes to prove that healing factors and big muscles were completely useless against a tickle attack.

Wade would have loved to keep tickling him all night, and he knew the man technically could take it with the high amount of stamina he possessed, but it was time to let him go now and save it for another time. Logan had been a good sport, and he didn't want to push it too far.

Pulling his hands back he now stood triumphantly hovering over the still giggling and plastered Wolverine, who kept his body all curled up in case the crazy merc decided to come for him again.

"Are you sure you're the Wolverine of legends? I mean, this isn't exactly what I had pictured. If I hadn't personally seen you in action then I'd have some serious doubts," he smirked as Logan finally relaxed and slowly splayed out on the couch.

"Heehehehe-That's the worst Wolverine to you, bub. You-hehehee-fucking suck," Logan continued to giggle as he struggled to fight off the dizzying high of the combined tickle assault mixed with the alcohol in his bloodstream. Wade was pleased to see he hadn't soured his mood.

"But do I swallow is the real question? Hehehe, sorry, I couldn't help myself. Now did you learn your lesson, you drunken idiot?"

Logan regained some sense of focus as he slowly sat up and looked up at Wade with the most cocky grin.

"Of course not. Gonna take a lot more than that, fucker."

"Do not tempt me, Peanut. I showed you mercy this time, but I cannot guarantee this next round I will be as charitable," Wade smirked and cracked his knuckles, surprised to see Logan lean back onto the couch with his arms folded behind his head.

"Pffft. You don't fuckin' scare me. You can do your worst. Though I'm sorry to say you're not gonna get the chance. Ya wanna know why?"

"Why?" Wade practically demanded with his hands on his hips.

"That's why." Logan lifted a hand to point behind Wade as the merc whirled around to confront what may have got the drop on him and found.....nothing. Nobody.

"Wait a minute.....did I really just fall for the oldest trick in the bo-AAAHCK!" Wade let out a scream as he was pounced from behind by a playfully growling Wolverine and landed hard on his stomach with his face hitting the floor. He had seriously misjudged the other man's current ability to fight back.

"Heheh, you really are a fucking idiot. Now let's see how you like this shit...," Logan immediately dug into Wade's ribs from where he sat perched on his back and was more than thrilled by the scream that ripped out of the merc's mouth. He knew there was no way a loudmouth like Wade wouldn't be ticklish.

"Nohohooo Logan wahahahahaait! Ahahaheeheehehehehe! You cahahahan't tihihihickle meheheee! I'm-I'm the 'ler! Nohohot yooooou!"

"The what? What the hell are ya talkin' about now?" Logan didn't let up though while Wade tried to sputter out an explanation.

"The cohohohommunity! Ihihihit's a thihihiing! I g-guess tehehehechnically I'm a swihihihihitch buhuhuhut stihihill!"

Logan raised his brows, looking more confused than before as he ended up just shrugging it off and shaking his head.

"Nevermind. I really don't wanna know. Now shut up and laugh, asshole," Logan's big hands ran up and down his sides, squeezing his waist and making it back up into his armpits as Wade flailed and shrieked and desperately tried to clamp his arms down.

Logan couldn't help but laugh at Wade's reactions with how he had barely started in on him yet.

"Geez. Have ya really been this fucking ticklish this whole time? Looks like we've got some time to make up for," his fingers fluttered around under Wade's arms, producing wild cackles as he wriggled like a worm and tried to scoot across the floor.

"Get off get off! Nooohahahahahaha! I'm nohohohohot tihihihicklish! I'm nohohohohohohot!"

"Well if you're not ticklish then all this shouldn't be botherin' ya, right? Or do you prefer me stabbin' ya better?" Logan smirked as he used the three middle fingers on each hand to simulate his claws as he repeatedly poked at Wade's ribcage with rapid fire speed, "Hehe, now you're dead."

"Gaahaahahahahaha!! Nohohohohot the clahahahahaws! Mehehehehercy!" Wade begged, trying to reach behind him to smack Logan's hands away. Spoiler alert, it didn't work.

"Mercy? Ha! That's a fuckin' good one. Hey, whaddya know. I guess you are funny after all. Hehehe, tickle tickle tickle, fuckface."

Wade's hysterics were increasing in volume by the second and Logan snorted in amusement at the thought that they might get the cops called on them for a suspected murder happening in the apartment.

"Holy shit. Keep it down, will ya? You're gonna wake the-"

"What in the name of Satan's asshole is that horrible noise?!?!" Blind Al shouted in annoyance as she wandered into the room and nearly tripped over the two men roughhousing on the floor.

"Blind Al! Blind Ahahahahal! Hehehehelp mehehehehe!" Wade screamed as he managed to roll over underneath Logan and reach out a desperate hand towards his elderly roommate.

"You're such a dick. Ya know ya don't have to emphasize that she's blind all the time, ya inconsiderate moron," Logan rolled his eyes with a smile as he now had better access to Wade's ribs and stomach and dug right in.

"Baahahahah-Buhuhuhut thahahat's her nahahahahame! B-Becahahahause she's blihihihind! Gehehehet ihihit?!"

The older woman's lips pursed with disdain.

"Please keep torturing him. I will sleep good tonight knowing that stupid motherfucker is suffering," she gently patted Logan on the shoulder as she turned around and made her way out of the room.

"You got it, boss lady," Logan nodded with a smirk and scratched furiously at Wade's stomach, easily avoiding the flailing hands trying to stop him.

"Blihihihihind Al! Aahahhahahha! You trahahahaahaahaitor! Ahahahafter ahahall I've d-dohohohone for yooohoou!"

"Maybe you could gag his bitch ass too," she yelled back over her shoulder, making Logan chuckle.

"She's got a point. You're loud as fuck. Always makin' fun of how I snort while you're over here shrieking like a fuckin' little girl."

With that, Wade was struck with inspiration as he thought of a way to get Logan to stop.

"Yehehehes! Oh yehehehes Lohohohogan! Dohohohn't stop! Th-Thahahat's ihihihit! Tihihihickle me! Tihihickle mehehehe untihihihil I pahahahass ouhohout!" Wade pretended to moan between his laughs as he put his hands flat against the floor to demonstrate that he had no intention of preventing the tickling, though it was a major struggle for him to keep them there.

Logan tilted his head as he stared down at Wade in bemusement.

"Can't tell if you're tryin' to psyche me out into stopping, or if you really do like it that much. I wouldn't put it past ya to actually enjoy being tickled. Not the weirdest thing about you. Either way, if ya say not stop then I won't," Logan smirked and proceeded to tickle him even harder as he kneaded into his hips.

"Noooooohohohoooo! Okaahahaay! I lihihihied! I cahahahan't tahahahahake it! Pleasepleaseplease stooohahahahoooop!" Wade squealed and kicked his legs around and uselessly tried to grab at the other man's wrists to pry him off.

"Now was that really a lie? Are ya sure it wasn't an educated wish?" Logan loved to bring that stupid shit up every once in a while, knowing it would get under Wade's skin.

"So fuhuhuhunny I forgohohot to lahahahaugh, ahahahasshole! Nohohow gehehet off meeeheeheeheee! You fuhuhuhucking mahahahade yohohohour point!"

Logan was about to make another quip when he heard loud barking and turned his head to see Dogpool come flying over the back of the couch towards them in superhero slow-motion.

She then rushed in to grab Wade by the hair as she pulled with all of her tiny body weight trying to free him.

"Yehehehes! Mary Puhuhuhuppins! Saahahahave pa-pa! Thaahahahat's it!"

"Yeah.....that dog weighs like eight pounds. Hehehe, don't think you're getting away from me just yet, bub," Logan snickered as he dragged Wade closer and plunged his fingers into his armpits, earning another shriek as the merc futilely clamped his arms down and thrashed even harder.

"Looohohohogaaan staaahahahahahahap! I'm-I'm sohohohohoh glahahad to seeheehee-ahahahahhah-see yohohou ehehehembrace thihihis sss-sihihide of you buhuhuhut-AAAAHH! FUHUHUHUCK!!"

A loud ripping sound was heard as Logan looked up in wonderment to see Wade with a hand gripped to his now bald head as Dogpool stood there with his whole hair piece in her mouth.

Logan couldn't help it. The sight of Wade laying there with those fucking staples sticking out of his head and the dog now gnawing on his toupee like a chew toy was just too comical.

He started to laugh. Really laugh. Laughing too damn hard to keep tickling Wade as he literally fell over, holding his sides while his whole body shook in uncontrollable guffaws.

Wade was finally able to sit up as he glared at his hysterical friend, but he had a smile on his face too.

"Really?! That's what makes you laugh?! You seeing me getting hurt is funny to you? Pretty fucked up, you sado," he pretended to sound annoyed, but really he was anything but. It was rare to see Logan laugh like this besides when Wade was tickling him half to death so he'd let him have this for the moment.

Still he had to strike back somehow for this indignity.

"Puppins attack! Kill, my little munchkin! Kill!" Wade shouted as the dog rushed towards the fallen man and jumped onto him. But Dogpool didn't have a mean bone in her body and only knew how to attack with love as she affectionately licked Logan's face much to his aversion.

"Blech! Wahahade! Gehet your dohohog!" He bellowed as he continued to laugh, but other than trying to shield his face with his arms he didn't do much to stop her.

"Okay okay, come here, sweetie pie. Lets get you away from the bad man who tried to kill your pa-pa," Wade reached over and pulled her off of him, setting her into his lap.

Logan finally fought down the giggles as he sat up to find Wade staring longingly at the destroyed toupee in his hand. He kind of felt bad for the guy and thought he should offer some words of encouragement.

"Yeah, that thing's fucked. Big time. But hey, I think you look better without it," he nodded, using his shirt to wipe off his face as Wade gave him a genuine smile.

"You're only saying that because you're drunk," the merc teased back as Logan shrugged in response and grinned broadly.

"You're probably right. I wouldn't touch ya with a ten foot pole."

"That's okay. I don't mind doing all the touching...," Wade gave him a quick squeeze on the side as Logan snorted and lurched away from his reach and got to his feet.

"Don't fucking start that again. I'd say we're even now. Besides, you don't wanna fuck with me now that I know how damn ticklish you are. It's a stalemate. We can put this all behind us and move on. Now if ya don't mind I'd like to get some sleep," he waved the other man away as he grabbed some blankets off the back of the couch to set up his sleeping area.

Wade just smirked as he began walking out of the room with Dogpool in his arms.

"Silly silly Wolvie. I'm not sure you realize the implications of your actions. But I'm afraid this is far from over. You, my friend, have just started a war."

Logan's face fell as he only stared back at Wade in wide-eyed silence.

"Nighty night, Peanut. Sweet dreams," Wade smirked devilishly, waving with wiggling fingers as he flicked off the light switch on the wall.

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