#Reluctant Caretaker au

[wandering-ghost]

So… I have like a few au ideas for two different fandoms so I’ll just lay out the basic foundation as I write the actual story, questions are welcomed.

Monkie Kid

Reluctant Caretaker AU/ RC AU: MK’s parents die when he was a baby and MK is the sole survivor, macaque ends up discovering MK and decides to reluctantly take care of him until he finds someone more suitable to take care of the child. (that doesn’t end up happening, he basically raises MK as his son even if he won’t admit it)

Rise Of The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

(We do not support tcest in this blog, so whatever nasty thoughts you have do not bring it into my aus)

Lost Blue/Broken Red au / LB/BR au: an au where instead of Leo being one of the last brothers alive during the kraang invasion, it’s Raph who ends up being one of the last two brothers alive before Casey is sent back in time. Also it’s Leo who ends up being kraangified and not Raph during the events in the movie.

Crack au / atomic pets au: Godzilla but in the ROTTMNT universe, after the events in the first episode mikey discovers a tiny reptile near the explosion, feeling bad and not wanting to leave it behind he decides to keep it, not realizing it was one of Draxum’s latest experiments. Hijinks ensue with the tiny reptile slow becoming not so tiny and harder to hide from his family, Mikey must learn to keep his atomic breathing giant reptile pet a secret from the rest of his family before they find out. (With the cast of kaijus now expanding to King Kong, mothra, and Ghidorah)

Ghost of the Past au: what if future Leo was able to make a second key to trap the kraang and stop the apocalypse from progressing any further, but in doing so he must sacrifice his past younger self and a part of himself to create it.

My Ao3 for whenever I post something I write

[lunamugetsu]

Whenever Batman disappears, he’ll come back with a new child to adopt.

It was a well known running joke amongst the batfamily.

Damian did not see the humor in it.

But right now his father has been missing for three days.

Now the entire batfamily knew that it was protocol to wait three days if they’ve suddenly received no contact from Bruce then they’d start looking for him.

Damian was not worried. His father will always come back home.

He was sitting in the batcave when he heard the familiar sound of the Batmobile coming back to the cave.

Damian reacted quickly and placed himself by the automobile as it opened. He saw his father come out of the machine. His suit had taken a beating with parts of it being singed or torn. But that wasn’t what caught his attention.

Damian’s attention was focused on the being that his father was currently carrying in his arms.

“Father. I demand an explanation.”

“This is Daniel, but he prefers Danny. I met him when I was investigating that government facility. He’ll be staying with us.”

Damian frowned he took another good look of the being. Daniel was a skinny being, practically a skeleton. Pale skin, white hair and glowing green eyes. The tiny thing was clothed in some kind of hospital gown and had something branded on their arm.

D4N.13L

Damian turned back to his father.

“Father I do not agree with this. We know nothing about this being.”

“He was held captive at the government facility. He assisted me when I was injured. He needs a place to stay.” Batman said as Danny gave a little whimper.

“Father, I must protest. We do not have the time to waste on taking care of this…this…thing. I will not watch over it!” Damian pointed at Danny.

“You are certain of this decision?” Batman repeated

“Yes.”

“Very well, then I suppose Superboy can handle this responsibility.”

Damian perked up from the statement.

“Responsibility?”

“Danny will need help in assimilating back into society. He had trouble speaking and does not like loud sounds. I will not be able to watch him all the time and need someone to monitor Danny’s condition for me. I had assumed that you’d be perfect in taking the responsibility of watching over him since you’re close in age and you had to learn to assimilate yourself amongst the public. But if you can’t, Superboy can most likely handle Danny’s special needs until we find a more suitable arrangement.”

Damian frowned

“Danny comes with a dog. Cujo, come!” At those words a glowing green dog hopped out of the Batmobile and ran over to Batman. Sitting down in front of the vigilante while wagging his tail excitedly.

“Father I have changed my mind. I am more than ready to take up this responsibility.” Damian held his arms out for his father to hand Danny over to him.

A couple weeks later

“Father I have come to the conclusion that if anything were to happen to Danny, I will kill everyone involved and then myself.” Damian said while Danny is currently playing fetch with Cujo and Titus.

[crimsonlyinglilly]

Day 29 Reluctant Caretaker

Late for whumpril, but here's the last entry and day 29.

and to my surprise it's a return to Inner Child and no one is having a good time.

----

Finn hates being trapped on the wrong side of the salt, knowing that somewhere in his head Elijah was trying to fight back against her orders and his need to please her.

In Mystic Falls he had been beside her ready to sacrifice himself but that had been his choice, he very much doubts any of this was Elijah’s choice as he stood by while she prepared the spell to place him in a new body.

He still didn’t know how mother had gotten Elijah, since they had daggered him at his own request. Proof mother had gone too far leaving Elijah to prefer that torture device over whatever mother had done to his mind. 

But mother hadn’t cared about that, seeing stripping Elijah of his will to use him as a puppet to get to Klaus and Rebekah a fair tool, Finn tries not to wonder too much if he would be so against it if he hadn’t seen the innocent child he brother once, hadn’t seen Elijah righteous anger at them or his desperate attempts to fight off the effects.

They all seemed to underestimate Elijah's will as it seemed Esther had also forgotten the monster she had made her son into.

It happened suddenly one moment mother had Elijah at her side, both of them smiling at them, Esther with pride and self satisfaction, while Elijah’s was empty as he echoed her words to convince them to join her plan.

Then blood spattered across the salt breaking the power, Elijah draw back stumbling away from Esther, mouth and face cover in blood.

Klaus moved before he could see to catch Esther before she could hit the floor but even as he tore his own wrist open and force it into her mouth his eyes were on Elijah, who was still standing there shaking his head to himself and trembling.

“Elijah!” Klaus called and Finn forced himself to ignore his mother dying on the floor and focus of his brother, hoping with her death the spell would break and they have the controlled calmed Elijah returned to them.

“It didn’t work” Elijah’s words shatter that hope as does the too fast way he speaks them, “it’s still to much, “ he confess tripping over as he starts to back away “i can’t- i can’t-” he keeps muttering to himself as he lands eyes glazing over in a panic.

Finn moves towards him despite part of him screaming to back away to stay away from the monster that just tore out their mother’s throat.

“Elijah.” he says carefully to not startle him as he couched in front of the other, ignoring Klaus’ warning behind him, this close he could see every hitch of Elijah’s chest as he struggled to take in the breaths he needed.

Vampires didn’t need to breathe, it was just something they did from the left over humanity, as such most didin’t in their sleep. That was something that Finn had always forgotten everytime in their early years as vampires when it came to Elijah, nights spend watch his then baby brother struggle to breath in his sleep had left their mark on him enough to lead to repeatedly waking his brother up.

Now though Elijah's failure to take in the air he didn’t need, had left him wordless as he looked to Finn with a mix of fear and pleading. 

“Breath, slowly calmly” he told him and ignored his own horror and guilt as Elijah did just that, his body following Finn’s orders a clear sigh beyond Elijah’s panicked words that the spell hadn’t broken.

 Klaus noticed behind them as Finn heard the warning growl.

Elijah was still bound to his orders as his mind was torn between his current self and that of a emotional child, monstrous hunger and fear, not a good mix as mother had found out. 

“Finn!” Elijah gasped out wide eyes and one of his hand curled into Finn’s shirt likely trying to anchor himself “there’s no fixing this, fixing me,” Finn’s eyes caught sight of his other hand climbing to his throat remembering the stains on his shirt that was caused by Elijah’s own hands digging into his own chest “i can’t, she-” he cut his brother off with a shushing sound, catching the free hand with on of his and using his other to press his brother’s face into his shoulder ignoring the blood and danger of placing a unstable vampire that close to his neck

He doesn’t want to be doing this, he shouldn’t need to do it, Elijah shouldn’t need someone to calm him, to stop him from tearing himself apart mentally as well as physically.

His brother had learnt to hide his fears and insecurities before he had left what little childhood thay had been allowed, to have that taken from him forced back into feeling like a lost child was cruel.

And the last person who he should be forced to rely on was Finn, who had helped mother take him, and stood by as she tortured him.

He had been an absent brother in life and still hated his brothers for centuries in the box while Elijah forgot about him.

Elijah wouldn’t want him anywhere near him if he had a choice.

Finn didn’t want to do this.

But they didn’t have a choice so he swallowed his own feeling in this matter and thought back to the echo mother’s spell had summoned, the reminder of the little brother he had failed, the one that had once followed him with eager eyes, the suspicious glares of his remaining brothers before they decided to trust him.

Klaus decided to keep with that trust as Finn heard him moving behind them taking mother’s body away with him, Finn would see and speak with her once she woke up before she died again, if it was the last thing he had believed in it was she wouldn’t accept the blood.

Elijah wasn’t seven this time and in his current body there wasn’t much of a size difference but with Elijah curled up clinging to his chest as he was it wasn’t hard to shift him until he was in his lap properly and wrap his arms around him humming their old lullaby until the sharp panicked breathing settled and he was left with a sleeping brother.

[rejectedanimexp]

This is for my Reluctant Caretaker Au fanfic on Watpad and AO3.

The fanfic where Smg4 gets turned into a toddler by some time villain and stranded in the internet graveyard 2 months after the Youtube Arc.

I'm messing around with different drawing styles so it's probably not my best work. I am trying out shading styles when I usually don't shade. (I hate doing eyes when I have to shade)

[distinctlywhumpthing]

How old is Leo, and how old does Leo think Aiden is? - whumpinthepot

Previous ask about Aiden's age — Masterlist

CW: BBU-adjacent, institutionalized slavery, dehumanization. Explicit language. Whump of a minor mentioned.

Leo took a steadying breath. “Delia?”

“Yeah?” She didn’t even look up from suturing, so focused she’d thankfully missed the half-dozen times he’d opened his mouth and closed again, not quite ready to pull this thread.

“I—uh…”

That did it. Her hands stopped moving and she glanced up, eyes tracing his face. 

“Actually, maybe I don’t even want to know…”

“Leo, out with it.”

“Look, it’s just—Please, tell me he’s older than he looks.” He resisted the urge to glance at Aiden, convinced he’d find those dark eyes watching him, maybe even looking betrayed by this line of questioning. 

Delia did look because of course Aiden was still peacefully sedated. A state that was necessary but felt like another break of Aiden’s trust. “Well, he’s not exactly our peer…”

“Fuck, Deels. He looks about half my age though, not a day over sixteen. Tell me I’m wrong?”  

Delia sighed. “I trust you didn’t get far asking yourself?” 

He shook his head. 

“They’re trained not to answer truthfully, even if they enter the system at a legal age. So, even if he wanted to tell you…”

His stomach felt heavy. 

“Look, if we get an MRI later, we can make a fairly educated guess. Short of that, we can see what molars he has but that’s only reliable if he hasn’t had orthodontic work to remove any, and still has a margin for error of a couple of years if they came in early or late…”

Leo kneaded his brow with his fingertips. 

“What will it mean to know how old he is? Would it change anything?”

He sighed, dragging his hand down his face. The events of the day and night were really starting to hit him. “I don’t know…I guess I had hoped he wasn’t subjected to all of…that when he was so young. He just looks so young, Delia, like he never got a chance at anything.” 

“Would it be any less sad if he was your age or mine? If they had waited until he was eighteen like they’re supposed to? Because in that case, chances are he was in for a decade at least.” 

He swallowed. “See? Now this is why I thought maybe I was better off not knowing. It’s lose-lose either way.”

“That’s the System, Leo.” She picked up her instruments and resumed mending what could be fixed while Leo let himself be swallowed by thoughts of the damage he couldn’t even begin to touch.

— Masterlist —

@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @mazeish @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess @meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7  @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump @painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch@skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings @peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup @mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump @aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @the-magpiesystem @pigeonwhumps

[shellshocklove]

snapshot | old man!logan

pairing/AU: old man!logan howlett x female!reader

summary: short on money for rent, your joke about starting an only fans account, to earn some extra cash, goes over logan's head. but when an accident with charles puts your life in danger, logan takes you up on your offer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! friends with benefits vibes who are also idiots in love, implied age gap, swearing, mentions and drinking of alcohol, use of pet names, logan's a bit of a grumpy dick, sex work, logan can't use a phone, logan can carry reader but he's also extremely strong, smut, praise kink, a little size kink (basically logan has a big dick), dom!logan, logan's got a dirty mouth, a little dacryphilia, sloppy blow job, facial, cum play, no use of y/n

a/n: a little disclaimer. i actually have no idea how OF work i only read the wikipedia page, so i've taken some liberties with it to fit it with the plot lol. the idea for the reader as charles' caretaker is inspired by @joelsgoldrush's fic never is a promise <- incredible fic that everyone should read! and also a big thank you to @guiltyasdave for all the encouragement on this fic!! <333 happy reading! <3

main masterlist / ao3

The coffee tasted sour on his tongue as he waited, engine running on empty, but the whiskey kept his throat warm. Behind the apartment complex the sun crawled up the horizon and split the the dark asphalt in pieces with streaks of blinding sunlight. The street lights shut off just as you walked out, the rickety door slamming shut behind you.

Watching you round the front of the limousine Logan pulled his seat forward, his rough hand grabbing the wheel as his left foot tapped impatiently on the footrest. A tickle in his throat had him greet you with a cough, and he brought his fist to his mouth.

"Morning to you too," you said, voice laced with sarcasm.

"Don't fuckin' slam the door like that– I've told you a thousand times," Logan grunted back and put the car in drive.

This was routine at this point. He picked you up in the morning after driving all night, and dropped you off again in the evening before he started his shift. Employing you took a large wad of cash out of his pocket, but at least he didn't have to worry about Charles being taken care of. You weren't a registered nurse or anything, not someone who'd had all the right references and education, but you needed money and didn't ask questions, and that had been perfect for Logan. He'd hired you about a year ago, and everything after had been routine.

When you didn't say anything back, only shifted your weight in the seat and leaned your head against the window, it pulled at something inside Logan. He couldn't deny you were a beautiful woman. He liked the way your nose curved, how soft your skin felt against his cheek every time you'd given him a reluctant hug, and he liked the way you smelled. It was primal, and in another life Logan would've had you in his bed already, but in this life, Logan was done with beautiful women.

Still early enough for the roads to be empty, Logan pushed the speed limit as he waited for you to speak – to finally say something trivial like you did every morning – some song you'd just discovered, or the plot twist in the reality program you watched every night, or how they were out of your favorite yogurt at the grocery store. He'd reply with a grunt, or with nothing at all, just letting you talk.

Out of the corner of his eye, Logan noticed how you picked at the skin around your nails, and when the sharp metallic smell of blood filled his nostrils, he heaved a heavy sigh.

"What's wrong with you?" he grumbled. A lilt of annoyance coated the words, and Logan hated how your silence had affected him. His harsh tone didn't seem to bother you, and the realization cut like a knife; biting down, Logan's jaw clenched.

"It's nothing."

Logan had to hold back the scoff he wanted to let out, "Clearly it's somethin', kid."

Finally, a reaction out of you. Pushing yourself to sit up straight, you let out a sigh as you turned your head to look at him. "My landlord raised my rent again… I'm thinking about how I'm gonna pay rent this month. I'm gonna be a few hundred bucks short," you told him.

Oh.

Gripping the wheel a little tighter, Logan couldn't help himself from asking, "You tellin' me you're quittin'?"

He couldn't blame you, he thought he paid you a fair wage, but it seemed that everything had gotten more and more expensive lately. The rides had been few and far between and the tank of gas didn't take him as far anymore. The weekends kept him afloat, along with bachelor and bachelorette parties, prom nights, and knuckleheaded business men too fancy to drive a regular cab to the airport. Had it not been for Charles' medication he'd give you a raise. Logan wasn't stupid, he knew he couldn't do this without you.

"No," you shook your head, "I wouldn't do that to Charles."

But you'd do it to me, Logan thought and let the words unsaid hang in the air between you as he pulled onto the dirt road leading to the smelting plant.

"I'll figure something out," you said, before a smirk teased over your face, that smile breaking forth the old you hidden behind this morning's melancholia. "Maybe I should start an Only Fans or something," you laughed.

"What's that?" Logan grunted, too focused on keeping his foot soft on the brake and avoiding the potholes to hear your joking lilt.

"Only Fans?" you questioned, one eyebrow raised in surprise before your eyes softened at the corners. "It's a social media platform for porn," you explained, "It's subscription based so you make an account and people pay a monthly subscription to see your content."

Porn?

Slowing down to a stop outside the gate, Logan put the limousine in park, the engine still humming.

"And how's that gonna help you pay rent?" Logan wondered, turning slightly in his seat to finally get a good look at you.

You were quiet for a second, eyes searching his face before the sound of a distant train had you looking away, almost bashful. "It's ridiculous," you muttered, "I don't have anyone to do it with anyway."

Before Logan could cough up an answer your hand found the passenger door, and a gust of sharp desert air seeped in. "I'll figure out the rent somehow… Sleep well, Logan," you told him, a wistful smile coating your features, before you climbed out the limousine and opened the gate. His eyes stayed glued to you as he drove past you, flicking to watch you close the gate after him in the rearview mirror. When you headed for the tank without your usual wave, a frown pulled at his face.

Stepping out of the limousine, Logan watched you leave, watched the way your hips swayed with new interest. Reaching into the inner pocket of his suit jacket, he found his flask – desperate to quench this fresh thirst with the last sip of burning alcohol, smoothing his dry throat. 

The cold coffee left a brown splatter as he discarded it; the coffee seeped into the sand. Inside the steeled walls he now called 'home' reeked of dust, like stepping into an antique shop, and Logan couldn't hold back his cough. Walking deeper into the plant with heavy steps, the old trinkets and equipment told a story of time passed.

So much time had passed.

Hanging his suit jacket over the back of one of the chairs Logan started working the small buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before tossing it gently over the ironing board. Food would have to wait, he already knew the fridge wasn't stocked. Instead, he found the bottle of whiskey he'd left on the table, grabbing it by the neck before he took a large swig.

The whiskey helped, at least that's what he told himself, but his senses never dulled enough and the weight never got any easier. Sitting down heavy on the bed, Logan drank long and hard, but he couldn't keep his thoughts from trailing to you and what you’d muttered. I don't have anyone to do it with anyway.

What was it you'd called it? Just Fans? No, that wasn't right… Only Fans.

Logan remembered the first tape he ever saw; it had been the 70s, a summer in California, at some party he'd been forced to by a beautiful woman. The tape had been projected onto a wall in the living room, like background noise no one paid attention to. It had been lewd and obnoxious, but no one had seemed to mind, high as kites and drunk as skunks. Soon, Logan hadn't minded either, whisking away the woman to make his own private porn in one of the bedrooms.

Behind the woven fabric of his slacks, his cock twitched at the thought, but it wasn't the porn playing at the party, or the memory of the woman he'd fucked that filled his mind, it was you. 

It was innocent at first; the way your front teeth nibbled on your bottom lip as you pondered your next move in a game of chess opposite Charles, how your eyes sparkled under the low streetlights as he drove you home at the end of the day, and how your perfume had filled the limousine and clung to his skin that one time you'd left your jacket in the passenger seat. His hand came down to rub over the growing bulge in his pants, soothing the growing ache with a hard press, pulling a rumbling moan from his chest. 

Soon the innocent memories of you turned to filth. Logan's mind filled with images of you underneath him, his cock buried balls deep in your wet cunt as you withered for him. Then, as quickly as the first image had come, another took its place: of you on your knees with your mouth stuffed with his cock, gagging around him and swallowing him down like a good girl.

With each rubbing press to his cock, Logan couldn't shake the rolling images of you. It was wrong, never had he thought about you like that, never had he wanted to think of you like that, but once he'd started, he couldn't stop.

Working his fingers, it was almost instinctual as they moved to undo the button of his pants. His hand dug into his front, large hand palming himself with hard presses, as his cock hardened. Trailing his fingers upwards, stopping right above the elastic band of his underwear, his hand so close to wrapping around himself, a hint of shame pulled him out of the gutter.

He shouldn’t think about you like that.

Pulling away, like he'd burnt his hand, Logan let out a deep grumbling sigh. Leaning back on both hands, he let his head fall back as he squeezed his eyes shut. In his pants his cock throbbed with need. It had been a long time since he'd had a woman, so long since he'd felt the velvet walls of a tight cunt wrapped around him, too long since he'd felt like he wasn't a monster, if only for a few blissful seconds.

Bringing the neck of the whiskey bottle to his mouth, Logan drowned his need in  temporary numbness, focusing instead on how the warmth filled his chest and dulled every ache. Falling back with a heavy bounce, he nursed the bottle in the crook of his thick arm, letting his eyes fall shut.

Logan couldn't remember the last time he wasn't tired, couldn't remember when his body didn't ache with every move. His veins bled through with rust and alcohol, and he hoped the latter made the corrosion run smoother.

His eyes fluttered shut, and the same flashing images filled the darkness. Years of fighting, years of killing, all the people he'd lost. It was the same show every night, and every night it tore a piece of him away, of his joy.

The bottom of the whiskey bottle clanked sharply as it hit the floor and a cough got stuck in his throat. It ripped and jerked in his chest, and he keeled over himself, fighting against it. When his head hit the pillow again, his eyes didn't fall shut, they trailed the walls, found the holes of blinding daylight seeping in through the holes in the corrugated metal sheets, and his thoughts found you again.

Curiosity got the best of him, and a hand dug into the back pocket of his pants for his phone. The small icons and text blended together as the screen lit up his face. When Logan held the phone a little further away the screen only got blurrier. With an exasperated sigh, he sat up, his body protesting as he grabbed his suit jacket off the dining chair, digging into the inner pocket for his new glasses.

Slumping down in the chair, his glasses resting at the tip of his nose, he tapped at his phone. He rarely used the thing outside of work, but suddenly he tapped at something that made it speak to him.

"I'm sorry I didn't quite get that," his phone said.

"Hello?" Logan spoke back.

Again his phone lit up and the voice answered. "Hello, what can I help you with?"

"What is Only Fans?"

……..

Fitting a brittle leaf between your thumb and pointer finger, you studied Charles' plants. The table always looked a mess after he'd tended to them, dirt spilled onto the table and tools thrown haphazardly about. Cupping your hand, you brushed the dirt into your hand, and discarded it into a pot you thought needed it.

Flicking your wrist, you looked at the time again. It was getting late. Usually by this time, Logan would have you halfway home already. Resorting to cleaning up the tools, you decided to give him half an hour before you'd start looking for him. He never slept in, although you could clearly see he needed it. 

Logan wasn't a man to show weakness, not to anybody, rather, he showed his teeth, barking and fighting against you or anyone who dared speak to him. It had intimidated you at first, and you'd held your tongue, afraid he'd bite your head off, but in time you'd come to realize that his gruff demeanor was just that, a façade. 

Charles on the other hand, senile and more and more forgetful, was the opposite of his son. On good days he beat you at chess while he told you stories about 'the good ol' days'. His imagination was vast, telling stories about the X-Men like he knew them, like he'd been a part of them, and especially by nightfall his stories would become even wilder. He'd tell you about his 'abilities', how he could read minds. He'd tell stories about Logan too, tragic ones, that if it hadn't been for the stack of comics you'd found, you would've almost said they were true.

Finding the chair by Charles' bed, you watched him deep in sleep. A heaviness could be felt in your chest as you thought about how his good and lucid days had seemed to get fewer and fewer lately. You found yourself having the same conversations with him, and once again today, he didn't want to get out of bed, telling you his head hurt. 

You wished you knew more of his condition, but Logan wouldn't tell you anything other than that Charles suffered from seizures, and if he didn't get his medication the consequences would be great. The way Logan had said it to you, his voice sharp and strict, it sounded serious, and in the year you'd taken care of Charles, you'd been diligent with his medication. Not once had you experienced a seizure with him.

Reaching over him, your palm found Charles' cheek. Stroking your hand lightly over his face, you felt the prickling stubble against your skin. His comment earlier about his head, had you worried. Logan usually supplied you with Charles' medication – from where you didn't know – there hadn't been any doctor's visits or health checks from what you could recall.

Maybe Logan didn't have insurance? It was your only explanation, a reason for why he'd found a more creative way of caring for his father. 

In a way you respected it, hacked an unknowing crack in Logan’s harsh façade– he cared. Only respect didn’t keep you from wanting Logan to tell you more, to open up, but wringing out more than a grunt from him was difficult. Instead, you made sure to let him know when you were running low on the pills and injections, and usually by the next day he'd hand over a new bottle. 

Stroking over Charles’ cheek, another chill of nervousness ran up your back where a worry tugged at your neck. 

Yesterday, after a week had passed since you'd asked Logan for more medication. He’d told you not to worry, that he’d have the pills soon, but running so low you'd had to resort to rationing Charles' doses.

Pulling back your hand, your eyes found your watch again, but before you could register the time, Charles stirred beside you. Then, an excruciating blinding pain permeated through your body. It rang in your ears and had your body shaking in agony, but at the same time you couldn't move. You wanted to scream, let out the pain that froze you to the chair, but no noise came out. When your vision started to go foggy, you thought that this must be what dying was like, but never would you have thought dying would feel this painful.

Through the ringing in your ears, a heavy creak of the tank door could be heard– or was it a trick your brain played on you in your last moments? Like the broad figure moving closer, slowly, too slowly, like it walked through water. You couldn't see who it was, but you didn't have too. Surely, your brain showing you Logan in your last moments, must've been a trick. The figure hovered over Charles, maybe it feasted on him first, reaped his soul as an appetizer before it would have you.

And just as quickly as the pain had taken you, the pain stopped.

Heaving for breath, your body fell forward, it was like the air couldn't fill your lungs quick enough. Two large palms cupped your cheek, tilting your head to Logan's frowning face. If you didn't know better you thought he looked scared.

"You okay?" he barked, your head rolling in his hands, "Hey! Bub, look at me."

You found the strength to nod your head, but Logan seemed far from convinced. He swiped his thumb over your cupid's bow, a flash of red coating his thumb and his face turned to stone, his frown so deep it looked chiseled.

Then he moved with an uncharacteristic haste, hiking you up in his arms and carrying you out of the tank. Closing your eyes, you tried to put your brain back together the way it used to be, but everything felt scrambled. When your back hit the soft mattress of a bed, you finally opened them.

Over you, Logan's large form hovered. He said something to you, but you only registered his mouth moving, your eyes glued to his pink soft lips, and your vision cleared completely.

"Drink this," he ordered, shoving a glass of water in your hands, and just like that your hearing had snapped back. "'m gonna go check on Charles– don't fucking move."

With no energy left in your body, you wouldn't dream of it. Logan watched you take a careful sip, the water lukewarm, before he left you in what you finally realized was his bed. The first sip nourished your dry throat, like you’d walked for miles in the desert without tasting as much as a drop. Surging forward, you chugged the rest of the water before you fell back against his pillow, clutching the glass in the crook of your elbow.

The smell of him on his sheets overwhelmed your weakened mind; a deep heady smell with a warmth to it, woven through with the heaviness of man. It soothed your mushy muscles, helping release the tension in your body.

The time passed differently now, fast and slow at the same time, and after an eternity and a second Logan was back. The weight of him where he sat down at the edge of the bed, had your whole body tipping towards him. His large palm found your cheek again, the rough pads of his fingers soothing over the skin.

"You doin' okay?" he asked, his deep voice filtering through a hint of worry.

"W-what happened to him– to m-me?" you managed to croak out.

Logan's heavy hand didn't move away when the furrow between his eyebrows deepened, the one that seemed to be a permanent feature on his face.

"He had a seizure," he told you, like it was obvious, taking the glass of water from your hands,

He must've caught the way your face turned, the confusion that flitted across it, one that spelled 'seizures don't affect other people'.

"Listen," he started, drawing back his hand, "There’s no other way of explainin' it to you other than tellin' you that all those stories he's told you about him– about me… they're all true."

The frown that deepened over your face at his words, must've challenged the permanent one over Logan's face. "W-what? The stories about the X-Men?"

"Yes, the X-Men– Is he talkin' a hole through your head about anything else?"

"No, but… there aren't any more mutants."

"Not new ones,” he sighed, “But we're old, sweetheart– the last there is." His voice went quieter and quieter as he spoke, a hint of sadness eating the words, before his palm found your cheek again. "You see… Charles he's a very powerful mutant, and years ago he started a school for mutants–"

"–I know all of that already Logan– he told me," you cut him off, "I never believed him, I thought he was just confused– the stories they–"

"–I know, bub," this time he cut you off, but he let the next words linger on his tongue. Drawing back his hand, his eyes found the wall behind the bed. "I never meant for you to get hurt– it's my fault. If he gets his medication he's fine, but… you ain't the only one who's a few hundred dollars short– it's been a slow month."

Before you had a chance to reply, Logan rose on his feet. "The seizures messes with your brain, so get some rest. I'm gonna get his medication, and I'll wake ya in the mornin'." Logan didn't wait for you to protest before he grabbed the car keys off the table, and left you alone in his bed. 

Outside the moon climbed the sky, and the new darkness, along with your scrambled brain, had your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

……..

"Wake up, sweetheart."

Logan's gruff voice pulled you from a dreamless sleep; a sleep like you'd just closed your eyes. Blinking, your heavy eyelids pulled shut just as quickly as you'd opened them, leaving you with a snapshot of Logan's body hovering over you. You hummed, sleep coating your brain, while your body felt like you'd put it through the wringer at the gym.

"It's mornin'."

You tried again, blinking your eyes open with more success. Logan's black suit jacket was nowhere to be seen, instead he adorned a white tank top. Letting your gaze roll over him, you noticed the scars etched into his skin, so many scattered up and down his strong arms, and suddenly the memories of last night filtered back into your brain.

"Logan," you whispered so low even you weren't sure you’d heard it.

"I'm takin' you home, alright? I'll watch him today," he told you.

When Logan told you something, he meant it. Leaving you in his bed, it was like a replay of last night as he grabbed the car keys and black suit jacket off the table. 

Slowly, you sat up and leaned on your elbows, letting the world spin for a minute. Your clothes from yesterday clung to your skin, and you felt both cold and sweaty as you got out of bed.

With each step you took every muscle ached, but somehow you managed to walk out the door. The burning light of the morning sun blinded you, and with one hand raised you shielded your eyes from the harshness while you walked closer to the humming impatient motor of Logan's limousine. Just as you'd sunk into the leather seat and managed to shut the door behind you, Logan stepped on the gas, and the smelting plant vanished in the rearview window. 

When you'd finally left the dirt road behind and hit the highway, you cracked the window ever so slightly – the morning air blowing away the last of your tiredness. The closer you got to the city, the more your stomach growled. You hadn't had a thing to eat since lunch yesterday, the aftermath of Charles’ seizure knocking you out before dinner– you needed something to eat.

"Can we stop here?" you asked and pointed at a sign advertising a diner off the next exit.

"I'm drivin' you home," Logan replied, his eyes glued to the road.

"Logan, please, I'm starving," you begged with a pout.

A beat passed, his fingers tapping over the wheel as he weighed his options, then his eyes found yours where they lingered. Staring back, you didn't know what to do. Logan wasn't a man that said yes, he liked things done his way. You bit down on your bottom lip, showing off your front teeth like a silent 'please' written over your face, and Logan huffed.

The loud buzz of conversation hit you first when you stepped into the packed diner, Logan in tow. Waiters ran back and forth between the booths lining the windows, taking breakfast orders and pouring coffee, and at the sound of the bell as the door swung shut behind you, one of them looked up at you.

"Seat yourselves," she said with a smile as golden as the syrup poured over hotcakes, "I'll be with you in a jiffy."

Walking deeper into the diner, you found an empty booth in a quiet corner. Logan seemed pleased, never too keen on people, and after what you'd come to know after last night, you could understand his hesitation.

Logan. The Wolverine.

You remembered the comics from when you were a kid, remembered this one kid in your class in elementary school that had been obsessed with them, reading every issue and Wolverine had been his favorite. He was a scientist now, last you heard, and here you sat opposite the comic character himself.

"Mornin', what can I get you guys?" the waitress asked, pulling up to your table.

"Um," you grabbed at the laminated menu in front of you, your eyes scanning over the breakfast items. Everything looked good, your stomach growling loud as you took in the pictures, but then again you didn't think you'd ever been this hungry before.

"Just coffee f'me, ma'am," Logan grunted.

"Could I get a stack of the blueberry pancakes… and a coffee for me too, please?" you ordered, watching the waitress with the name tag 'Stacy' write down your order.

"That'll be all for you guys this morning?" she smiled.

"Yes, thank you," you returned her smile.

"Alright, I'll be back in a second with your coffees."

While you waited for your pancakes, Logan wasn't much company. He sipped his coffee, black and piping hot, as he leaned against the corner of the booth, legs spread wide, watching the people coming and going. In the silence between you, you decided to study him while you sipped your own coffee. He must've felt your gaze over him, from the way he clenched his jaw, but he never turned his head to look at you, instead he let you look.

When your pancakes finally arrived, you dug in immediately. Fresh, hot and deliciously pillow-y and soft, it was the best thing you'd had in a while. The blueberries weren't too sweet, cutting through the sweetness of the pancakes with a tangy taste, while the bitter taste of your coffee woke you up and filled you with new energy.

"So," Logan suddenly spoke up, almost making the piece of pancake you were chewing on go down the wrong pipe. "How you feelin'?"

"Like I'm having the worst hangover in human history," you joked, "But better now after some food and caffeine."

Logan only hummed, turning his head back to people watching as you ate your pancakes. His silence had a frown work over your features when you placed your knife and fork down to sip on your coffee. He'd been so quiet all morning, which in truth wasn't new, but there was something about him now, something about the way his scowl dug a little deeper into his skin that had you asking:

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothin'," he answered, curt and to the point.

"Clearly it's something," you pried with a tilt of your head.

Another beat passed, before he leaned forward, a cough getting stuck in his throat. It sounded worse than it was, he'd told you once. So, you sipped your coffee, your eyes flitting away like you needed to give him privacy.

"I've been thinkin' about your proposal," he finally said, and you felt your eyebrows pull together in a frown.

"Wait?" your eyes found his, "What proposal?"

"About that subscription thing– the porn," he waved his hand, and leaned back again.

"Only Fans?" you asked, keeping your voice low, "It was just a joke, Logan."

"Well, maybe it's an idea for the both of us. I need money for Charles' medication, and you need money for rent– it'll just be us earnin' a little extra on the side, a win-win situation."

Letting his words sink in, you mulled over his idea in your brain. It wasn't like you weren't attracted to Logan, in truth, you'd wanted him to fuck you for a while now, but it had only been a fantasy, one to conjure forth late at night when you slipped your hand into your panties. To have it become a reality, served up by Logan himself on a silver platter, you'd never imagined.

How could you say no?

"Okay," you said, your voice breathy as what you'd just agreed to settled in your stomach. Having a little more cash in your account every month wouldn't hurt, and getting dick regularly sounded just as nice, it had been too long. "I'm in."

Logan only replied with a curt nod accompanied by an approving grunt, "Now eat your pancakes so we can get goin'."

………

"Cold feet?"

With the limousine parked outside your apartment building, a week's worth of anticipation came to a head. You and Logan hadn't really talked much in the days passed since the diner; Logan's main interest more in you feeling better after experiencing Charles' powers for the first time. He'd let you have a few days off, to heal up, to which you'd taken the opportunity to do some research and set up an Only Fans profile. Currently it was blank, but tonight that would change.

"No," you shook your head, telling true. "You?" you asked, turning in your seat to face Logan.

Logan eyes darted across your face. He never looked at you like that, and for a moment the oddity of the situation, of what you were about to do, settled in your stomach.

"No," Logan finally decided, and reached for the door handle, “Let’s get it over with before it gets too late.”

At his movement, you reached forward and grabbed his forearm, "Wait!"

With a grunt, Logan turned. "What?" he asked, his eyes settling on you with an eyebrow raised.

"I-I have an idea," you told him, and you didn't know why you stumbled over your words. With your hand still wrapped around his arm, his eyes fell to your touch, lingering before they found yours again.

"I was thinking–" you started, retracing your hand, "Well actually… I just restarted taking birth control and I wanted to settle into it before we have sex, so I thought maybe– if you want to of course," you rambled.

"Spit it out, bub, I ain't got all night," Logan cut you off.

"I thought maybe I could suck you off– here in the limo," you 'spat' out your suggestion, your front teeth immediately coming down to bully your bottom lip.

"You want to suck my cock… here?" he repeated. Leaning back in his seat, you didn't know if he spread his legs on purpose, or if he unconsciously drew your eyes to the bulge hidden behind his slacks.

"Yeah, I mean…" you shrugged, "I thought it could be hot? Like something that people would want to see?"

"Right," Logan hummed, reminded of the invisible audience, and reached for the key in the ignition.

Leaving your apartment building in the rearview mirror, Logan searched for a more secluded place to park. The windows in the back of the limousine were tinted, impossible to look into, but you didn't want to take the risk of getting caught. After finding an empty parking lot, backing up and occupying a more private space in the back corner, Logan guided you around the limousine with a hand resting gently over the small of your back. Climbing into the back with you, his broad form filled the space.

Inside, he'd turned on the lights, the colors slowly fading in and out and casting soft shadows across his features. The leather creaked as he sat down, his spread legs already inviting you to slot between. A fleeting feeling of nervousness tickled in your tummy, the reality of what you were about to do washing over you like a wave on a stormy ocean.

Logan watched you from his seat, a picture of sin in his suit, as he slipped his hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and fished out his glasses. His jacket fit snugly over his wide shoulders and he'd undone the top buttons where you could glimpse curling chest hair. The way he looked at you through the glasses, eyes dark and curious, had a warmth of arousal starting to pool in the core of yourself.

Clearing your throat, you spoke up, "I was thinking I could set my phone up here–" you pointed to the space between the leather seats and the window. "And then you could use your phone and film me?"

After a little bit of fiddling to get your phone to stay upright, you turned to Logan, your phone capturing your slow walk towards him. He sat with his legs spread wide, his large palms resting on either side of his thighs. When you reached for the hem of your shirt, his finger twitched, digging into the leather, and a toothy smile spread over your features.

Tossing your shirt you sunk to your knees and slotted between his legs. Looking up at him through your lashes, you held his gaze as you sat pretty for him, fanning out the skirt you'd worn specifically for today. He reached for his phone and pressed record when you curled your hands behind your back to undo the clasp of your bra, capturing your bare chest.

The air nipped at your exposed skin, making goosebumps ripple over your skin. Looking up at Logan, his eyes burned against your skin where he took in your breasts, his eyes glided over your bare skin for the first time and soothed out the bubbling nerves that had been brewing. When your eyes caught on the tent growing in his pants, you had to restrain yourself from surging forward, your mouth already watering at the thought of tasting him for the first time – of your wet dreams becoming a reality.

"S'pretty," he murmured, voice deep and guttural, soaked in arousal.

He cupped your cheek gently, the rough pad of his thumb skating over your skin bringing with it a calming safety. Your eyelashes fluttered as you tilted your head into his hand, desperate to feel more of the weathered skin of his hand against your body.

"Y'sure you want this, sweetheart?" he asked.

Opening your eyes, you held his gaze. "Yes, please," you nodded in his large palm, "It's the only thing I've thought about all day." And it was the truth.

"Shit, baby," he groaned in response, dragging his hand down your neck to rest heavy over the top of your breasts. "S'that so?"

Gathering your hands in your lap, you nodded slowly, your teeth caught on your bottom lip as his hand brushed over your right breast. "Thought of how you'd taste," you confessed, the phone in his hand forgotten as you focused entirely on Logan.

"Yeah?" he prompted. One knuckle brushed over your hardened nipples, pulling a quiet whimper from you– pleased he leaned back, "Take off my belt, then."

Bouncing on your knees, you leaned forward on his command, and pulled the leather belt from its loops. You did it slowly, tilting your head upwards to catch his eyes through the glasses. He helped you with the zipper, making you watch as he dragged it down.

With your eyes fixed on his hand you noticed three barely healed scars between every knuckle, and you remembered who Logan really was. The Wolverine. He caught you looking, and his hand tightened into a fist, tightening it for a beat before he relaxed it over his thigh. Leaning forward, you placed a soft kiss over his knuckles, and his hand dug into his thigh.

"Sweetheart," he breathed out, his voice strained.

In the depths of your chest you felt a pinch, a tiny stab in your heart that felt too real, too personal for what you were about to do. Willing it away, you leaned back on your ankles instead, your hands dipping into the waistband of his pants to pull down his slacks. Lifting his hips to help you ease them down, a quiet grunt escaped him, a deep sound that traveled down your spine and pooled in your core.

Behind the soft cotton of his underwear the firm hard line of his cock strained against the fabric. The sight of him, large and heavy, and hidden, had your eyes widening with lust, and a slickness soiling the gusset of your panties.

"You want my cock, don't you sweetheart?" he coaxed, his free hand finding your jaw where he cupped it, squeezing your cheeks together.

"Y-yes," you breathed out, your smile straining against his grip before you dropped your mouth open, showing him your tongue.

"There you go, baby– good girl," he praised, pressing his thumb down on your tongue and rubbing the saliva around. A soft moan caught in your throat at the praise, and behind the camera Logan's eyes darkened at his new discovery.

Wrapping both your hands around his wrist, you held his hand in place as you closed your lips around him. Slowly, you moved your head, up and down, up and down, hollowing your cheeks as you sucked on his thumb like you would his cock. Logan's eyes were intense behind his glasses, his jaw clenching tight while he stared into your own.

"Such a filthy little thing f'me– so desperate for my cock down your throat you'll suck anything, ain't that right?"

A choked moan escaped you; they way he talked to you adding fuel to the fire in your core. Between the seam of your cunt you ached, wet arousal dripping into your soiled panties. He must've watched the way you melted for him, your brain turning to mush in front of him, because when he pulled his hand away, he laughed. A deep guttural thing from the depth of his chest.

"C'mon little angel," he tapped at your cheek, "Let's put you out of your misery."

Clouded in arousal, your brain stalled at the nickname, and you felt a new gush of arousal spill between the seam of your cunt. Logan's nostrils flared and a wild darkness settled over his face.

Shifting on your knees, you leaned forward to palm him through his underwear. Making sure to flick your eyes up at him (and the camera), you dragged your finger up and down gently, seductively, before you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his clothed length. Above you, Logan sucked in a breath, his free hand coming down to pet your head and press your face firmly against his bulge.

You couldn't help but breathe him in. Breathe in the heady deep scent of man, cheap whiskey and cigars – the unique scent of Logan. When you let out the softest little sigh, you felt him twitch against you, and quickly his hand on your head traveled down to the back of your neck where he pulled you back with a harsh yank.

You yelped.

"No more teasin'–" he reprimanded and let go of you, "Be a good little angel and make me come."

Logan leaned back into the leather, his body relaxed and inviting with one hand still occupied with filming you. Watching the deep furrow forming between his brows, and the way his eyes burned your face through his glasses, you could tell he wanted to take control, make you do what he wanted.

With a curling smile, knowing full and well you had the upper hand with one of his hands occupied, you slipped your eager hands into the elastic waistband of his underwear and tugged.

A wild and wiry patch of graying hair met you first, and you felt a flock of eagerness flutter in your stomach. Tugging the fabric down slowly, you made a show of revealing just an inch at a time. When you finally reached the end of him, you felt the wet head of him graze your cheek, leaving a streak of precum, as it sprung free.

His hard cock bopped heavily in front your face, and you felt your eyes widen at his size. He was big. The hefty length of him cushioned against his balls hanging heavy over the band of his underwear. Reaching a shaky hand forward you took him in your hand for the first time and familiarized yourself with the thick weight of him. With your other hand you traced the thick veins that lined the girth of him, memorizing every ridge and freckle before coming up to thumb at the fat tip where a pearl of wetness beaded.

A mix of awe and uncertainty pooled in your chest. How in the hell were you gonna fit all of him down your throat?

"'s okay, angel," he cooed, his heavy hand back to stroke over your head. His touch soothed you, a rhythmic warmth that shed all your insecurities.

With a content sigh you leaned forward and parted your lips to press a soft kiss to the leaking tip, pulling a "There you go, good girl, open your mouth f'me," from Logan. Urged on by his praise, you got a little braver. Flattening your tongue against him you started with a few gentle, teasing licks to the tip, your tongue dipping into the slit to taste him in earnest.

Above you, a groan rumbled in Logan's chest, a sound that had you eagerly taking more of him in your mouth. Suckling carefully on the fat tip, you let your tongue tease the underside of him, humming in content when you felt him harden even more in your hands.

Letting the excess spit run down the length of him, it pooled over your hands where they struggled to wrap around the thick girth. Slick sounds came from your hands when you started to move them over the soft skin, coating him fully in your saliva with every tug.

"Shit, bub, y'look so fuckin' good around my cock," Logan's voice vibrated from his chest, "But y'can take it deeper, can't you? Take that big cock down your throat?"

Well, you would certainly try.

Your knees dug into the carpeted floor of the limousine, pressing a deep pattern into your skin. Popping off his cock, you sat up a little more and shifted your weight. Looking up at him through your lashes, you were reminded of the camera pointed at you. Looking straight down the barrel of his phone you sunk down further on his cock.

Dropping your jaw, you felt your lips stretch as his hefty cock filled your throat. All too quickly the head of him kissed the back of your throat and you had to fight your gag reflex. Pulling off with a gasp, your eyes widened as you looked up at him.

"It's so big," you told him, both of your slicked hands jerking him in a slow rhythm.

"I know, angel," he cooed, his thumb running over your cheek. Leaning forward again, you placed a soft kiss to the fat head, and he hissed, "Too big f'you?"

"No," you shook your head, smearing the head from one corner of your mouth to the other, spreading the precum leaking onto your lips, and humming at the taste of him. "It's perfect– taste so perfect," you said through a pillowy kiss to the head.

With a buck of his hips, he pushed back into your eager mouth, slipping the fat head through your swollen lips and into your flexed throat, "That's it– right where it belongs, huh?"

Fitting him as deep as you could down your throat you felt dizzy with desire, an almost overwhelming feeling; the smell of him so close, how he filled your mouth and made your jaw ache. When your nose pressed into the grayed patch of wiry hair at the base of his cock, you spluttered with need, spit soaking the length of him as you came off him with a cough.

In an instance, Logan was on you, his free hand petting your cheek as he searched your eyes, "You okay?" I wouldn't be until after, when you edited the video that you'd realize he'd dropped the phone, focusing only on you in that moment.

"Yes," you replied, looking into his eyes with a toothy smile, "I want more– I want your cum."

"Fuck," he hissed, letting go of your cheek and leaning back into the leather seat, pointing his phone at you, "Go on."

Fitting him back down your throat again, you got lost in it as you found a rhythm. With a hand stationed at the base, you bobbed your head, letting your tongue dance over the length. More saliva dripped down and pooled over your hand, slicking up his pubes. It was messy, and hot, sticky and wet. Above you, Logan muttered praises between grunts and moans, encouraging you to take him deeper and deeper.

Feeling your throat loosen with every bob of your head, you pushed down and swallowed around him. Your eyelashes fluttered as you gagged and coughed, tears starting to prickle from your eyes, but you were determined to please him– to make him feel good.

When his hand came down to wrap around your throat, his thumb skating over your neck to feel himself, your eyes rolled back in your head in pleasure – the sight of you making Logan let out a deep growl. He kept the hand clasped around your throat as he started to buck his hips, feeding you his cock in small lazy thrusts.

"Right there, angel, so fuckin' good f'me… my good girl– choke on it," he mumbled.

You hummed around him at the praise, the vibrations pulling another deep moan from him. Fucking your face, bubbling spit trickled out the corner of your lips, soaking him and the coarse hair on his balls where they slapped heavy against your chin. Slipping a hand between your thighs, you couldn't help but touch yourself through your underwear – the white cotton translucent and drenched with your arousal.

Chasing his high, Logan's thrusts started to come quicker. More and more saliva overflowed, dripping down your bare chest and slicking you up in depravity. The grip Logan had around his phone was lazy, but he made sure to capture the way the shifting colors of the low limousine light gleamed over your slicked up chest.

"Such a good fuckin' throat–" he growled, squeezing around your throat as he pushed himself as deep as he could. Your nose brushed the wiry patch of his pubic hair, and you felt yourself start to gag around him as your lungs squeezed and throat tightened. He kept you down as you spluttered and swallowed around the length of him, and when the edges of the world started to blur he pulled you off with a jerk.

Gasping for air and filling your lungs with lost breaths, the hand Logan had wrapped around your neck was now pushing your own hand away to wrap around himself. The tears on your cheek mixed with the strings of saliva on your chin, as you looked up at him through fluttering lashes. Watching him stroke his cock, your eyes widened with interest as you shifted on your knees to sit up straighter.

His hard cock pulsated and throbbed with need as he stroked. Up and down you watched his hand; watched how beads of precum drooled over his fingers, mixing with your saliva before it dripped down onto your chest. A primal feeling came over you – an urge so strong to taste him come undone and claim you as his.

"Please," you begged, the fat head ghosting against your lips with every jerk, "come for me, please– wanna taste you so badly."

Logan's grunts and growls grew deeper and wilder as he stroked himself faster. "Look at me, angel," he ordered, and when your eyes locked with his, combined with a final hard stroke, he aimed the wet tip towards your face and came hard.

The first pump of his sticky warm seed, made you flinch before a smile widened and you leaned closer. Dropping your mouth open, he came all over your face, coating your cheeks, your nose, and forehead. Thumbing at the tip, he aimed at your waiting mouth to squeeze out the last few drops, and he finally let you taste him.

Wrapping your lips around the head, you suckled around him through content hums. You were covered in his cum, claimed, feeling the sticky seed drip down the bridge of your nose. You loved the way he tasted, salty and bitter, like Logan.

When the feeling of your tongue dancing over his sensitive head became too much, he pulled away with a hiss. His phone was still aimed at your face, and a little more clear-headed he filmed the aftermath of his orgasm closer.

"Even prettier with my cum on your face, angel," he said, letting his finger drag over your skin to collect his cum.

Pretty.

"Thank you," you whispered, your throat hoarse as he fed you his cum.

You hummed around his finger as he cleaned you up, making sure not a single drop would go to waste, and when he was pleased with his work after you'd shown him your empty tongue, he cupped your cheek.

"Good little angel," he told you with a pad, and pressed the stop button on his phone.

Back at your apartment the buzz of the excitement of the night lingered as you replayed the scene on your computer. You thought about Logan, about where he was and who might sit in the seat where you'd sucked him off only hours earlier. You thought about how filthy his mouth had been, and how much it had turned you on. And lastly, you thought about how you couldn't wait to see him again, and for him to finally fuck you.

Editing the video together, the last thing you did before you fell asleep was upload. Logan had taken a photo of your hand over his clothed cock before he'd left you, a picture that was now set as your profile picture. All tuckered out, you closed your computer and fell back against your pillows, dreaming of the smell of leather and cheap whiskey.

James & Angel ✨👼 📍 Texas subscribers: 15,478

1 post: "cute girl gives older limousine driver a sloppy blowjob"

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hopefully this was okay? i have concepts of a part 2 lol so please don't ask for it. instead, a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and/or tell me what you'd comment under james' & angel's first video! my ask box is always open to chat <3 and thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[brucewaynehater101]

So one of my favorite tropes is Jason or Dick going "mine now" and adopting every bat kid to come after them, and turning Bruce into a father in legality only, a reluctant grandfather in reality

See the endnotes of both "Dynamic" by Cant_Smoke_Eggs and " bystander" by greeneyedfirework

And also the Crimelord Tim-Never-Robins AU is making me tear up rn so I'm just gonna kindly take the ideas of that AU and the Carrion Crows and and shove them all into a blender to—

☆・★・・・★・☆

Tim Drake's parents are as awful as they are in the Never-Robin verse but here he—to put things horrifically lightly—convinces himself out of it

Oh yes, what you're describing is abuse and it's wrong! What did you say about his parents? They do everything he agrees is abuse? No! You misunderstand, they aren't abusive they're . . .

When Jason dies and Tim blackmails his way into Robinhood, into making sure his last remaining light in this world lives and stays as via shining as he always sees him, he get's a proper excuse

Not that he could ever tell others of course

But it's just what he personally needed

How could my parents ever be abusive? Batman hardly ever remarks about them and sometimes he even trains me more painfully then whenever my parents are back home!

☆・★・・・★・☆

Thus goes his life until he comes across a girl and her ward

Or maybe baby brother is more appropriate

Introducing Cassandra Cain, League of Assassin's renegade extraordanaire

And who does she have with her? It's only Damian al Ghul, blood son of Talia and Brucie!

Yeah, some time during or after Jason's departure from the League, Cassandra by sheer chance got in the same room as Damian

A fucking child which horrified her, so she snatched that kid and dipped

Damian telling her stories about his father and big brother both from Gotham gave her a clear direction of where to head

☆・★・・・★・☆

Not that they tell Tim this, they've hardly met him

They tell Robin silly! Damian in particular is insistent that the vigilante introduce him to his father as he is the blood son

Tim—wanting to help Batman since his plate is full—says it will take some time but he knows someone who can give a place to stay, they can trust his verified associate

Thus is how the two move into the Drake Manor with Timothy Drake full-time

It's nice, he accommodates for their needs and teaches them whatever they don't know

Cassandra quickly clues in—and informs the latter—on Tim and Robin being one & the same

When Cassandra confronts Tim about this, he does his best to calmly (are you sure about that young boy?) justify himself

He recounts the rise of Batman, of the first Robin turned Nightwing, and the Second Robin until his death

Batman's grief would descend into him transforming his vigilantism into a suicide mission

And Gotham? Gotham may be a horrifically corrupt city now, but before Batman it was hell on earth

It was already slipping back into there, what with lifelong hospital bills, disabilities, and job loss being indiscriminately handed out left and right

Though, Batman's rogues weren't facing the brunt of his rage nearly as much as most desperate criminals he came across, just trying to survive

Thus, to keep Gotham from tumbling back into the days before Batman, and to keep the hero from killing himself (because saying 'get himself killed' is dishonest) he blackmailed himself into the Robin role to act as Bat's leash and caretaker

He realized he may have miscalculated when Cassandra's knuckles go bone white

☆・★・・・★・☆

Cassandra had several moments where she has second-thoughts about bringing Damian to his father, and now they're solidifying

She subsequently informs said baby brother that "holy shit, you're father is a monster" with stories what she learns about him, albeit mildly omitting the nastier details she doesn't want Damian to know at his young age

Doesn't help when they both notice the injuries Tim doesn't even get on patrol but training and he has to go to Agent A or himself for medical aid

☆・★・・・★・☆

Tim Drake always saw himself an exception to justice. His parent love him and he has a duty to Batman

Whe his parents come home he tells them about his new friends staying over for some time

After working it out with the two, they even have their identities legalized and nobody will bat an eye at their presence with Tim

The Drakes come home and one moment he's introducing his parents to his friends

The next he's closing an incinerator room's doors with a lockpick

How . . . ?

☆・★・・・★・☆

during Tim's blackout, Janet and Jack made some classist and other comments towards Damian and Cassandra, and since their legal identities are of orphans, and went as far as to threaten abuse knowing they'd get away with it

That caused something in Tim to break and finally do his parents in

Upon realizing what he's done, Tim is going to be pretty hysterical and grieving and when Cass ask's what's up he immediately breaks down

☆・★・・・★・☆

So yeah, Tim has to hide his parent's death and speedrun becoming secret CEO until he can become one publicly

Step number one? Get Cassandra and Damian adopted by the late Drakes and insert them into their wills

Cassandra and Damian stick with Tim because they care for him, he's also single handedly providing for them, plus they don't want to test their luck with Batman at all

Damian is having an identity crisis because he was taught to take pride in his blood but his father who's been hella hyped up has brutalized his new big brother repeatedly

Maybe Tim stumbles across Stephanie and Duke, and gets them adopted too

Maybe we have a Jason with less of his screws loose and he walks up to Tim and is like "where are you parents" "they're totally alive!" "Holy shit you're an orphan actively distancing yourself from the batman because he abused you *adopts him as son*" or maybe Dick Grayson fathers instead, idk

Or maybe Jason here is still willing to pull a Titans Tower idk

My brain is melting lol

Holy hell. I love this AU. Tim adopting his other family members is near and dear to me. He has the means to and has canonically made up fake family members. He can totally throw someone into his family legally (and technically illegally).

Have you seen Damian Drake? This kind of reminds me of that fic, but with Cass in it and the Drakes dead. For this AU, it would be precious if Damian starts to take pride in Tim's last name instead. That, or they could create a new one for the 3 of them (until Dick, Jason, Duke, and others join [Steph is always weird cause she dated Tim. It's similar to how Babs isn't legally considered family/siblings, but she's still part of the family]).

Damian thus has legal to claim to both Drake Industries and Wayne Enterprises (if he ever chooses to disclose his relation to Bruce). The best part of this is that Tim is building a large family by stealing them all from Bruce (cause fuck that man).

Also, Cass and Damian should interact more in fanwork. I'm so glad that you have them as such in this. Similar to Steph and Damian, I don't see that relationship as much which is sad. They have such great sibling bonds.

Two more thoughts: One, I love the characterization of Tim stepping back into his body to find he had murdered his parents and just rolling with it (besides the mandatory breakdown). He just figures it out cause it is what it is. Two, how old is Tim in this? Does he immediately become CEO or try to pretend his parents are still alive?

I'm also imagining Tim just gathering all these people, and he's not necessarily their leader/boss, but he does provide for them. He guides them and supports them. He's like a family mafia boss, but without any command or orders. The others are free to do as they please, but they tend to run decisions against each other

[purpleslushhh]

Erm here is art of an au I made where basically CC survived the bite and Elizabeth never went to see circus baby and basically Michael ends up being their caretaker after William leaves for whatever reason IDK and CC tolerates Michael but still holds a grudge cuz of what he did and erm yeah

ALSO ALSO the Missing Children incident does still occur in this AU and CC takes it upon himself to go and explore the place himself to discover all the secrets regarding the kids AND his dad. Elizabeth and Michael soon join after being reluctant at first so yes….

.

.

Idk why I put so much thought into this AU…it’s not done yet tho I’m still figuring stuff out but YEAH 👍 also in this art CC is 16, Elizabeth is 17 and Michael is 22 and it’s 1991

[h-didanart]

I have doodles

all of them brought to you by @potatotato-26’s wonderful Droplet au idea thingy (they said they were fine with others using the idea, I asked them myself). Sadly, due to my more angular style the squishiness characteristic of the Droplets is kinda lost, but I tried, and this was fun! I liked coming up with designs and possible lore!

so! Without further ado, the doodles. Starting with the Bloodmoons

Swap!BM, Separated!BM, and Retired!BM, my three (six) main guys. Swap!BM is probably the design closest to their au canon, I didn’t know what to do much; they’d act even more like a cat, now with the advantage of being smaller, they would absolutely hide in the darkest spaces they can find and freak out their caretaker (Creator most likely (don’t question it, I’ll explain the family dynamics at some point)). Separated!BM I just, drew, the designs were in my mind near instantly; I like ‘em, they look adorable. Retired!BM….. I was very reluctant to make a design for them, only made one cuz they’re kinda my favorite Bloodmoon; as you may see they’re kinda not very ok, never really are but toddlers aren’t exactly known for being great at hiding their emotions… for the sake of my and you guys’ sanity I’ll say that this version of them was electrocuted and dumped in an alley by Ruin.

Now, the protagonists of The Sunset and Moonlight show!

Moon I struggled a bit with, but needed up finding something nice and fluffy to put him in after a while, tho the scar did give me a lot of issues so I simply covered it. Sunset’s design I kinda didn’t really try too much with, just drew what came to mind, I think it fits them. And as a bonus, them comforting Bloody and Harvest, cuz protagonists support one another.

And then brainstorming. If I were to Dropletify the Get in Losers family, would it be like this:

Or like this?:

And now…. What I have decided was the funniest choice for Dropletifying my main guys… Separated!BM and Swap!BM are the babies, Retired!BM however…

Is stuck in babysitting duty. They’re going to need help…

Lucky for them, they know someone who knows how to do (almost) anything, he won’t mind if they give him a call.

and now, lastly, because… favorite Bloodmoon (and I’m still coping with Original’s death) we have Bloody and Harvest interacting with their Droplet version. Starts off a bit bittersweet if you have full context, if not it’s just kinda sweet, and then you get the funnies

Ye :3

[fanaticsnail]

i love your sapsorrow series — even more when i read that Shanks snippet where he thought he was safe OH GOD AHAHAHA please!!!

Ah, you see. They all think they're safe from the clutches of the foul curse of Sapsorrow. Their knees shall bend, their backs shall break and their hearts will perish before her mighty claim - should they ever fail in their task to woo their intended.

(Image Source)

Sands of Time

Themes: Sir Crocodile x f!reader, reluctant bride, enemies to lovers, kidnapping trope, rake!crocodile x royal!reader, forced proximity, longing from afar, injured x caretaker, time limit to love, haunting spectre, Sapsorrow fairytale au, suggestive themes, forced/arranged marriage.

Mihawk Sapsorrow masterlist here, Shanks Sapsorrow here, Masterlist here

Sir Crocodile's intentions below the cut.

.

“What is this? A fitting gift for an apprehensive bride. I shall gift this to my intended before we wed on the morrow. Perhaps it will be near enough for her to open her legs and share her bed tonight.”

Hunched over the writing desk, half-moon glasses drawn down the bridge of his nose, sat the hulking sir crocodile. He shook his head, unsure of what commotion was going on behind the door of his darkened office. A wedding? Unlikely. 

Managing inventory, arranging wage statements and smirking at his half-composed letter to the lord of Kuraigana regarding his collection of debt; his ears pricked at a whisper of motion within the room.

“It has been found, reptile,” the echoing voice sinisterly whispered. A rumbled roar began erupting within the chasms of his chest as he released fragments of sand out to grasp the ghostly form of the witch to encase her spirit in a layer of dust. 

“I was rid of you, witch. You have no claim over me nor my soul,” he growled, prompting the spectre to unleash a wave of echoed maniacal laughter. Her voice was haunting, her tone was low and deliberate as she taunted further. 

“I was lost to you, but now found and will be placed on the finger of a bride within the hour,” she taunted, slowly raking her undead soul towards him. Strands of her hair began moving as if beneath the crashing waves of water, her sinister smile and unblinking eyes bore into the hulking man in front of her.

“What conditions have been laid to have you curse me, witch?” he asked, sitting back in his chair and removing his glasses, “I had your band stolen from me by the Don of Dressrosa, thus casting your curse onto him, not me.” He chipped the end of a thick cigar, drew it to his lips and ignited the tip with the flick of his flint. 

“To answer first: she has laid no such conditions as yet,” the spirit confessed as nonchalant as a spirit could ever be, “And to answer second,” her spectral essence passed through the desk and stood still, towering over the form of the crocodile, “My curse cannot be given twice to the same individual.”

Sir Crocodile held his breath. His usually bored and slackened jaw was now clenched firm atop his cigar. 

“What must I do, witch?” He spat, staring up into the cement eyes of the ghost of Sapsorrow as she smeared her sharpened canines down at him. As Sapsorrow began to bare another thought down onto the crocodilian man in front of her, an echoed voice rang throughout the room.

“I am not cattle to be bought with such an item, nor am I simply a broodmare to bear your spawn within my belly. You think this enough for me to share my bed on the eve of our wedding? I would never.” 

Sir Crocodile bore his eyes into the ever rising smirk of the Sapsorrow Queen in front of him, listening to the echoing words ricocheting from the chasms of his mind and reverberating in his soul.

“If you desire me to be your bride, you will have me love you with all that I am. You will earn my affection, you will slave for my adoration - but my love will be only passed onto you when I truly think you love me completely in return.”

The malicious laughter echoed throughout the room, the sands currently revealing the Sapsorrow spectre falling atop the desk, littering the papers and ornaments scattered below. 

“Make haste, Sir Crocodile,” she taunted him once more, “She is set to marry him on the morrow. That should put a damper on things, do you not you agree?”

Sir Crocodile began to shake, his shoulders stumbling below his aggression. He violently thrust his forearms down atop the desk, his balled fist of his remaining hand indenting beneath his powerful thrust, the tip of his golden hook sunk into the mahogany and encaptured it within his circlet. 

“H-How,” he began, his voice staggering as his mind caught up with the conditions laying claim to his soul, “How could someone measure that? How could someone ever dream of proving that level of blind devotion?”

“Therein lies the rub, reptile,” Sapsorrow’s echo felt further from him now, flittering up towards the ceiling akin to the smoke from his sour cigars, “You may never truly earn it, and I may yet collect the debt of your soul.” 

“You have a year,” her voice began to crack as it faded up further, “Until the sands of time pass the last grain to conclude its final hour, your form shall crack like glass and your soul will belong to me.”

-----------

Notes: I will be working on Shanks, Buggy and Sir Crocodile spinoffs once the Sapsorrow Au fic is concluded for Mihawk. If there is a gentleman you would like to see flung into this particular fairytale curse, let me know and I will aim to create it! I only have 10 rings to work with!

There are other fairytale au's in the making, if you enjoy an interpretation with your beloved characters:

@gingernut1314 is doing "The Luck Child" for Buggy

@writingmysanity is doing a "Hans My Hedgehog" interpretation for Corazon.

@sordidmusings is doing a "Three Ravens" interpretation for Sanji.

@cinnbar-bun has many a thought about the Crocodile, and I am looking forward to see what she comes up with.

Allow me to take the opportunity to thank @since-im-already-here, the "smol snail, fanatic in the making," for making me do this one. I love writing for it, and it's amazing to see how many there are of you that enjoys being whisked away with my words.

Tag List: @sordidmusings @writingmysanity @gingernut1314 @cinnbar-bun @carrotsunshine @feral-artistry @i-am-vita

[002yb]

how abt an au where the villains of the month steal dickjay's dna and make a clonebaby :O

Okay, but what if it's a scenario where the Superfam and Batfam come together on some mission. They save the day, but in the wreckage of everything is this dark haired, bright eyed clone baby and all of them just stare because two of them are daddies but they don't know who.

So they all take turns caring for the baby until they can figure out what to do; whoever's DNA was used will have ultimate say, but they need to consider risks and the liability of it and-

SuperBat

Clark understanding where Bruce's concerns are coming from, but getting prickly regardless because Bruce is treating this clone baby like a threat. Clark has one clone son and he's perfect; they would be so lucky to have another. )<

To which Bruce shuts himself up because he's 1) not fool enough not to recognize that Clark will throw hands and Bruce is woefully under prepared for such a fight and 2) per his therapist, Bruce needs to make active efforts to 'be more sensitive to others.' This is a prime opportunity.

Also, Kon overhearing Clark being protective over him and getting all timid over it. Just scuffing his boot over the ground and acting like he doesn't care but really he's feeling so warm and loved and Tim rolls his eyes before bumping his shoulder against his friend and offering him an assuring and soft smile and ahhhhhh

Anyway, Clark and Bruce taking first watch of the child

And Clark isn't surprised by it; he's seen how Bruce is with kids of all species/creeds, but it still takes him by surprise to see how good Bruce is to this baby

He might be endeared, too. Because there's something really sweet about catching Bruce sat back in a chair, baby on his chest as he works, hand large enough that it spreads to support the babe's back and head - a protective stance

Or rather, Clark is definitely endeared. Because when Clark offers to tend to the baby, he only gets as far as reaching out to take them before Bruce is shuffling away, grunting as he goes to do the task himself because the old bat is attached after no time at all.

Clark does eventually get to hold the baby (which he loves; he gets all nostalgic about back when Jon was this small and how children grow up too fast, which Bruce can only grunt in agreement to because they really do).

But anyway, Clark gets to hold the baby and it's sweet. He supports them, holding them close to his chest and bouncing as he walks around, turning his head to smell the top of their heads and smiling at the baby smell

Bruce might feel just the slightest endeared by the sight, even if Clark being gentle and kind is nothing new.

Dickjay

Reluctant caretakers!dickjay, but only because Batman looks especially grim as he hands the baby off to Dick. Like this man is not keen on letting this child go

There's nothing to be done for it though. There are JL matters at hand and Superman and Batman can't skirt their responsibilities for too long at a time, so.

Even still, Bruce lingering in the shadows and being this foreboding presence in the background for a time while Dick and Jason take their turn with babysitting.

Things only settle once Superman herds Batman away. A comical sight that helps break some of the tension once Dick and Jason are alone.

Maybe they aren't anything to each other in this AU yet, either. Not really friends, hardly brothers. And it's not that they're estranged, but they don't seek one another out, either. Not unless it's for work.

Which is why babysitting together is weird.

Something something where Dick encounters the same problem as Clark had with Bruce, because while Dick tends to the baby, Jason keeps a distance and just sort of looms in the shadows. Wandering to the fringes of Dick's peripheral before pacing back away, arms crossed tight and scowl looking very much like a pout.

Because Dick is capable of watching a baby on his own and takes on the responsibility because Jason didn't/hasn't/has never seemed keen about kids in this way. Making sure they're safe? Of course. Having them drool and snot and vomit all over you? Not so much.

But the more Dick watches Jason and how fidgety he is, the more Dick realizes that it seems like Jason really wants to hold this kid.

So Dick asks Jason if he'd like to [hold the baby]. And of course because Jason is Jason, he won't admit outright that he wants to. It's clear with how his eyes light up, how he has to bite back a smile, that Jason is so eager though.

It's unexpected, to say the least.

What's more surprising is Dick's introduction to caretaker!Jason and how much of a mother Jason is.

It takes him out at the knees.

It's all Dick can do to stare in awe and wonder as he watches after Jason and the baby. Because Jason is so soft and gentle and sweet with them. The baby cuts through Jason's prickly exterior and on so many occasions Dick catches sight of the most devastating smiles.

And Dick has something of a domesticity kink always and forever so at some point he starts to get flustered by Jason being all kind and caring and delicate. Which Dick knew Jason always was, but to be confronted by it in such a darling way? Fuck.

But Dick tempers himself because it's still Jason.

So they go about their time babysitting.

Something something Dick playing with the baby a lot and keeping them engaged. Jason happening upon them because he hears baby laughs. So he wanders out from wherever he'd gone to find Dick and baby playing peekaboo. And the baby is thrilled by it. Their titters are so sweet that even Dick smiles - more wide and genuine (biting, Jason recognizes) than he's allowed in a long time and ahhhhhh.

And something to take Jason out at the knees: coming home from running errands or working a case to find Dick reading to the baby. Not even a baby book. Just straight up case notes and censoring the graphic bits as he goes and Jason is so damn endeared.

That feeling only gets worse when he comes back from showering and finds the both of them napping.

Jason gets a blanket over them and starts dinner. And when Dick wakes up to the noise, he flusters worse than ever before because Jason. Apron. Cooking for the family them.

Something something they're working on the couch together. Jason's got the baby cradled to his chest. Dick looks over occasionally because it's cute. But between one glance and the next Jason fusses and Dick looks over and oh.

The baby tries to nurse off of Jason through Jason's shirt and Jason tuts at them and Dick just stares because omfg. Jason scowling and Dick being genuinely flustered although he still laughs because it's funny and cute.

He still goes to get the baby's bottle though.

And when he comes back Jason jokes about how Dick would be surprised how often that's happened.

Which. What? <- an internal thought with an envy that rears itself in a startling way.

Externally though, Dick plays it cool.

'You've done this before?'

'With Damian.' What? 'He'd always bite, too.' What? 'Hah, he didn't change.'

Which leads into a conversation about how Jason cared for Damian way back when. And grumbles about how he should have stayed longer if only to have raised the brat with some proper humility and manners.

Dick minding his tongue over how Damian might have internalized plenty of Jason's ornery qualities, but a lot of his best qualities, too.

It becomes very clear how Jason missed out on being there for Damian growing up. So Dick fills him in starting from the point where Damian came to him, at least, and what an ornery punkass brat he was and how Dick loves him anyway

And from there they just talk. And they laugh. They taunt and challenge and jibe and get recklessly close to flirting as they exist in this domestic bubble with one another.

Oh. Something with Dick taking the baby to shower. And he has a towel around his waist but he's very much a wet and glistening dream as he pokes himself part way through the bathroom door to hand the baby off to Jason and Jason just about combusts because he was wholly unprepared.

Anyway, Jason's had a crush since forever and Dick falls in love over the span of their babysitting duties.

So when it's time for Conner and Tim to take over, Jason is more intense than Bruce ever was because no. Fuck off, losers. The baby is theirs. His. Uh.

The baby is eventually coaxed from them (despite Jason's snarls and scowls; despite even Dick's disappointment) though because vigilantism doesn't lend itself to this sort of normalcy, this form of goodness

But Dick tries anyway by at least holding on to Jason. And asking him out on a date and moving in together getting married having a circus trope of kids and-

KonTim

For flavor and funnies: Tim and Kon struggling to babysit the baby. They've overcome any number of hardships together, but child care might be their undoing.

Just two very young adults with no aspiration for having a family being confronted with family life and not jiving with it in the least. Like they're absolutely the sort that hold this baby beneath their arms and at arm's length as there's a two v one stare down because like...what now?

Spoilers: chaos.

But before that, Kon and Tim jinxing themselves because for a while the baby is just chill and not doing anything and just...it's so boring? They honestly don't understand baby fever or the hype of new parents; this is miserably dull.

Famous last words between them, because right after it's all crying and hiccups and blowouts and just all the nasty things those who aren't ready for parenthood tend to fixate on hahaha.

Like, one of them absolutely gets peed on while trying to change a diaper. And they screech about it while the other laughs. But it's okay because karma exists so the other party definitely gets puked on after changing their shirt for the third time.

Tim develops some sort of system for troubleshooting baby problems; manic first parent energy dialed up to 1000

And by the end of the day they're both exhausted and they just got the baby down and they're ready to sleep, but then there's more crying and they just smack at each other because, 'it's your turn.'

But it's Tim and Kon, so of course they get into a routine and get everything sorted.

Anyway, abrupt cut to:

Where Tim is working and has the baby in one arm against his shoulder while he types away with the other. Just patting the baby's back to burp them since they just ate while attempting to catch up on a case he's fallen behind on.

Tim distractedly grabbing the baby's bottle instead of his coffee cup. And when he goes to drink it, the rubber nipple pokes him and he scowls because ugh, come on.

Meanwhile Kon is just there, staring intensely and being wildly jealous because it's been days of nothing. So Kon makes a dramatic gesture to his chest/nips and Tim cackles because omfg, shut up stop.

Which only makes Kon snicker and smirk and take the challenge for what it is.

Basically everything devolves into Kon trying to seduce Tim

Another abrupt cut:

Where Tim is debriefing with Batman over something and Bruce hears the baby crying in the background and visibly straightens and leans forward, shifting left and right to try and get a better view while asking after the baby and Tim is just ._. because the baby is fine, no they don't need help and Bruce don't you dare zeta over-

DamiJon

Damian standing there with hands out ready to receive the child into his care, only Bruce is being stubborn about it again.

Bruce making all manner of excuses for how Damian doesn't need to babysit and that Bruce can cancel his plans and-

But Damian is a dutiful son through and through and is wildly obtuse so he misses the obvious with Bruce wanting more time with the baby and insists that his father resume his duties and responsibilities because Damian can be trusted with this mission

And Bruce is just a big sad boy about it because baby

Meanwhile Clark is just fond as he looks after his partner before turning back to Jon to assure him that Jon can call for him if anything happens.

Which Jon rolls his eyes at because it's just for a few hours; they'll be fine. And then a little hair ruffle moment because yes, they will be fine they've both grown so much proud dad feels ;3;

But also they'll be fine because DamiJon spend their babysitting time on the farm with the grandma and grandpa Kent supervising lol

Anyway, Damian holding the baby and being so calm that the baby is just zen af, dozing and drooling on Damian's shoulder.

Damian swatting at Jon's hand when Jon goes to poke the squishy baby cheeks

So Jon smirks and pokes at Damian's cheeks, too. Because they're still round with youth.

Damian retaliates by pinching Jon's cheek. Doesn't matter if Jon is grown now; Damian can fuck him up - watch it. )<

Since it's only a few hours of babysitting, they'd pass the time wandering the farm. Introducing the baby to all the farm animals.

Just baby pats for the cows and sheep and Damian mindfully taking the baby's hand when Jon brings them a chicken because he's not risking any bird pecking at the babe.

The chickens pecking at Jon instead lol

The baby being snuffled at by a horse and the sound/feel of it making the baby laugh and Jon beams about it because this baby is a Kent through and through; a total farm baby.

Damian commenting on how that might be. Because the baby has Jon's nose. Which makes Jon fluster a bit because what? Really?

Jon scuffing his foot over the dirt and mumbling about how maybe the baby is theirs, after all? They have Damian's eyes.

Damian refusing this, because it's clearly his father's eyes.

And Jon just about gags because no, nope. Damian or nothing.

But anyway, an easy day spent babysitting on the farm.

Jon being surprised by Damian's grace with looking after babies. And Damian gets to share some of the experiences he remembers with the nanny that looked after him. It left such a lasting impression on Damian and it's so clear that he's fond and tender towards the memories and Jon is both glad and jealous because it's nice to know that Damian had some kinder childhood memories, too (even if Jon wasn't a part of them).

Martha showing them both how to properly feed a baby and burp and change and bathe them.

Come the end of the night, they're all tuckered out. Jon and Damian passed out on the couches in the living room. And the baby nestled up with grandma Kent who is so happy to have another grandbaby. Great grandbaby? Doesn't matter.

And then of course there's a clamor (or as much of a clamor as Bruce makes) as Bruce charges up to the house to fetch his clone baby because Bruce is always and forever an intense father

Bruce taking the baby but forgetting Damian at the farm

The way this man reverses the car all the way from the main road back to the farm ahahahaha

And Clark is there with Damian passed out in his arms and Bruce is so flushed with embarrassment because 'not a word, Clark.'

[ghcstao3]

Hi please keep rambling about your DBH AU it’s so well written and amazing! I love the characterisations of everyone and how you handled their relationships there in. My favourite part was Ghost thinking he’s a coward but he’s not he’s just been so badly hurt and when everyone learns about his past they don’t blame him for trying to protect himself they actually try and comfort him 😭 god damn that made me cry

Anyway it wouldn’t be annoying at all it’s obvious by the care and effort you put into writing it that you love this au.

apparently i am. a liar. but i still have a few thoughts about this AU

separating it into two parts:

misc:

- soap used to be a child caretaker android. he still keeps contact with the family, who have always treated him like one of their own

- for that reason also, he was somewhat eased into deviancy. he never even realized it first, because he’d always been happy as is—it was the sense of purpose that ticked him off, the want to try something new and completely different to what he’d always known

- ghost has heterochromia essentially for the same reason as markus (optics damage)

- ghost doesn’t remember much prior to his deviancy. roba erased a lot of memories, and sometimes he still experiences minor memory loss here and there, if it’s something from years prior. those pieces are still stored somewhere, but ghost has never bothered to go searching

post-reveal:

- soap is the only individual other than himself that ghost trusts to do repairs. even still he’s reluctant, at first, only letting soap help with the parts he can’t reach, but eventually even the simplest fixes he has soap work on

- unfortunately ghost isn’t given much of a choice but to reveal himself to the team about a year later, when he’s injured and price and gaz get a scare out of soap tearing ghost open to fix the worst of the damage and at least have him functional until they could get parts

- (it’s just a bit traumatic to watch your sergeant open your lieutenant’s chest. just a little)

- ghost still pretends like he isn’t an android around them, however. it’s how he’s acted forever now and it’s a difficult habit to quit—may not even be possible to quit. they wouldn’t treat him any differently, though, and he realizes that now with a slight guilt

- going back to soap’s ‘family’, he even goes so far as to bring ghost home to them, like he’s seen and read in movies and books. they’re more than happy to meet ghost and welcome him into their home—a glimpse of kindness ghost seldom sees, so he decides that they’re not so bad (meaning he memorizes every detail of their lives and interests, just so he can know the people who cared for soap in return for his service)

- both ghost and soap’s white casing are very scuffed and scratched, but if you look closely at their wrists, you may find one another’s initials etched into the plastic

[earl-grey-teacake]

hey! first of all, the idea of baby!au is fantastic. I love all your points. you already wrote about galex "stressed out of their minds new age parents" and that was fascinating to read! would you mind to elaborate the same about carlando? pretty please 🥺🙏🏻

Awww! Thank you!!!

Of course I can write a Carlando one!

Carlos and Lando didn't mean to adopt Oscar. It just sort of happened. One minute they are in Australia and the next thing they are taking a 1 month baby home. Thankfully Carlos know how to take care of a baby and make a bottle and change a diaper because Lando was incredibly lost.

Lando is very sensitive to Oscar's emotions and baby's are very emotionally volatile. While Oscar is much calmer than other babies, it can go from 0 to 100 really quick. Lando's vibe is "Oh my god, what am I doing? I don't know what I'm doing. Wait, I do know what I am doing. Nevermind, I was very wrong."

Carlos is a bit more capable due to experience but the downside is Oscar prefers Lando more and it makes taking care of him incredibly difficult. Carlos brings a "I want to help you. Just let me help you" energy that quickly becomes "I know you communicate mostly through crying but can you try a different method." Carlos wants to zone out sometimes but he can't.

Oscar wrecks terror on their marriage and social life. The only thing that is really intact is their job. Oscar's pickiness pushes an unequal distribution of labor in certain areas which strains the marriage. Oscar also doesn't have the energy to be around a lot of people for long periods of time, and his parents keep an active social life.

They had to go to couples counseling a month into the adoption which helped them find equal ground when it came to balancing childcare and their marriage. It also helped that Oscar met Logan and now was fairly content as long as he got to play with Logan.

Lando also started bringing Oscar onto his streams which garnered him a ton of new subscribers. Oscar was fairly content being held and staring at the lights and moving pictures and people found him to be adorable.

Oscar slowly enjoys Carlos's company without Lando in the picture but Carlos is the more responsible party. Feeding, doctor appointments, making sure Oscar has a hat every time he goes outside to protect him from the sun.

The one activity they do enjoy together is golf. They get a couple hours on the course and Oscar gets to sit in his carrier and nap in the golf cart.

Babies are expensive and Oscar is no exception. The issue is that the biggest expense is the wi-fi. Oscar has a designated time to see Logan, whether it be in-person or through Face Time. If George and Alex are free, a play date is an easy thing to organize. However, a face time call is usually the result. The issue lies in Oscar falling asleep with the phone in his hand but will wake up and cry if the phone is removed.

Oscar, like Logan, is a clingy baby. Even though he doesn't say it, he still clings to Carlos's shirt when he has to leave for the race. While he doesn't cry most of the time, he does get upset and hides his face. He also does the same thing with Lando. Carlos is sad but he laughs it off and tells Oscar he'll be back. Lando, however, will carry Oscar as much as he can and is very reluctant to hand him over to the caretaker. While he doesn't cry, Oscar's sad little face and his outstretched hands makes the departure very difficult.

I hope you like it! It's not as cheery as the one I did for Galex but I wanted to show the difference in dynamic and parenting style.

Thank you for sending the ask and feel free to send me more!!!! :)

[dont-leafmealone]

Jetko fic rec list

Feel free to add your own recs, and if you do read any of these and like them, comment something nice on it! If I find anyone hassling authors for updates I will drop ferrets down your chimney!

Modern AU

the things we leave behind - Mai and Ty Lee start a ghost hunting channel; their roommate, Zuko, cannot stand their new cameraman, Jet. Meanwhile, Zuko's sister just moved into their shared house, and forms a reluctant bond with Zuko's friend, Katara. Multiship, rated M, 200k, complete, HIGHLY recommend (also check out the rest of the author's works! She's amazing!)

never believed in meant to be - Zuko gets in-school suspension and meets Jet, who's cool enough they spend the day together. It's their first and last meeting. Rated T, 5k, complete. (Check out the rest of this author's stuff too!)

you're built to fall (beautiful) - in between the struggles of figuring out life as sixteen-year-old caretaker of kids, Jet finds himself falling in love with a handsome merman. rated T, 8k, complete. Amazingly written <3

paint it red, they'll cover it up anyway - Jet and Zuko are both kindergarten teachers, and both dealing with a lot of complications in their life. and in love. Rated T, 34k, in-progress

Ba Sing Se

up in the city (until the stars lost the war) - canon divergent AU where Jet doesn't see Iroh heat the tea, and Zuko's a little more receptive to city life. Absolutely gorgeous series. Rated T, 50k, in-progress

(Dont) Lose yourself into me - another canon divergent AU! Featuring rebel shenanigans, betrayal and angst all laid out beautifully. Check out the author's other works too, there's some really good ones! Rated T, 80k, in-progress

clay kids - after a misunderstanding about Zuko's - or rather, Lee's - parentage, he and Jet form a relationship built on lies of omission. Rated T, 35k, in-progress

a lesson in new beginnings - the author's summary probably says it best: 'zuko has bad coping skills, jet has a hella crush, and war is hell. welcome to ba sing se.' Very sweet with plenty of angst, drama, and misunderstanding. Rated T, 6k, in-progress

Post-canon

Like The Fire In Your Heart - Zuko's carriage is ambushed by thieves, and he finds that his old friend Jet isn't as dead as certain playwrights would have him believe. Rated M, 9k, in-progress

Miscellaneous

learning how to use a weapon (& other such tragedies) - flood-based apocalypse au! Beautifully written, possibly one of the first jetko fics I read when I was first starting to like Jet as a character. Rated G, 11k, complete

heat and sand - by the same author as above, au where a race of winged beings live among humans, and wouldn't you know it, they're not exactly welcomed by the likes of Ozai. Zuko finds himself taken in by Jet and his freedom fighters. Rated G, 16k, two completed fics. Honestly check out the rest of the author's catalogue it's all A+

Hearthfire- Jet is taken prisoner by the Fire Nation after his village burns. Rather than be put to work or executed, he becomes the young Prince Zuko's ward and they form an unlikely relationship. rated T, in-progress, 41k, covers canon books 1-3.

Perpetual - Jet, not quite mid-redemption arc, kills a firebender. Zuko can't actually die. Jet decides to make this his own problem. Rated M, 180k, in-progress <3

Sthe song in the secret room - haha second lesbeanlatte work on here 😈 a modern/time travel au based off of the Disney channel show Secrets of Sulphur Springs, if it were PG-13 and involved gator-related manslaughter. Hilarious and heart-wrenching 💚 Rated M, 280k, complete

Some further additions found in this reblog

This list will probably get updated if I remember any more or read anything new. And not to shamelessly self-promote but I have a variety of jetko works of my own, linked here if you're interested at all. :)

[dreamweave01]

Enmitytale: Grillby

Grillby has opened up to very few people about his past.

When the war began, he lost his profession, his home, his family. . . 

He and his daughter, Fuku, barely got out when they did. Fuku was young, and hardly remembers this time, only how long it took her father to overcome his grief. 

The place they used to live, now bombarded with missile fire, would soon be known as Barren Ground, a completely uninhabitable stretch of ruined towns hostile to any living creature.

So no, Grillby doesn’t talk about his past. However, he’s learned to move on, to heal. His restaurant is the most popular hang out in Snowdin, and he and Fuku now live comfortably in the small town.

Of course, that all changed when Frisk went to have a little chat after closing time.

Upon their usual travels across the War Zones to aid civilians and evacuate refugees, Frisk discovered two very young skeleton monsters, without a home or a family.

Knowing Grillby’s past, and knowing the horrors the two boys had undeniably endured, Frisk figured the fire elemental would be the best choice for a caretaker.

At first, Grillby was reluctant to agree with Frisk’s idea. After all, he had a daughter and business to worry about. Adopting two children would only further complicate his life.

But then Frisk told him where they had found the brothers.

“That’s not possible,” Grillby said, shaking his head, “Nobody survives Barren Ground.”

“You did,” Frisk said, determined expression unchanged from where they sat across the counter.

Grillby set down the glass he had been cleaning. “That. . . That’s different. I wasn’t there nearly as long. Besides, they’re children, Frisk.”

“Which is exactly why they need you.”

Grillby looked down at his hands, leaning against the counter. The soft glow of his flames illuminated the dimly lit restaurant.

“Grillbz, I get it,” Frisk said, “You’ve got your daughter to worry about and a business to run. But these two don’t have anyone to look after them. You know probably better than anybody what Barren Ground is like. They’re just a couple of scared kids who’ve been traumatized in a way that no kid should have to be. 

“And right now, they need you.”

They let the silence settle for a moment, letting their words sink into Grillby’s mind. Then, they finished off their cup of milk, setting some change on the countertop as they got up.

“Just. . . think about it.” Frisk said, and then turned to leave.

They got halfway across the room before they heard a long sigh, like firewood crackling after a long day.

“Alright.”

Frisk looked back at Grillby, who had his arms crossed over his chest.

“You win. I’ll take them in.”

“Thank you, Grillby,” Frisk said with a smile. He shrugged.

“Don’t thank me. I owe you one, you know.” He said, “What are their names anyways? The brothers.”

“Sans and Papyrus.”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Just a little info dump for my undertale AU, Enmitytale.

I had a big brain moment and decided to make the main cast (other than Frisk and Chara) kids, because I love traumatizing little children apparently.

I also had another big brain moment and decided that it would be fun to have Grillby take care of the skelebros.

Hence the birth of this.

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

OK since art is not arting, I've decided I'll share some background/lore to my Lost Boys 'White Wedding AU'

[Also this is mostly self indulgent for me and my self insert- but I'm gonna keep it kind of vague if any of yall wanna picture yourselves in it/want to add yourself to the story!]

Basic information: Santa Carla is basically ruled by The Lost Boys. The only way they are tamed from killing everyone or wreaking havoc on the town is Michael, or basically, the Emerson family, who are working as watchers of sorts for Santa Carla. Michael is a type of priest/caretaker of the abandoned caved in Chapel that the boys reside in, and every month on a full moon, he offers sacrifice as payment to keep the boys from hurting others. [Note the sacrifices tend to be dug up fresh bodies or animals - that would defeat his whole point of keeping the town safe.]

But lately, it seems the Boys are getting more antsy, getting more and more eager/stirring up trouble in the town - and that's cause they have a demand for Michael. They want a bride.

Now, Michael is very reluctant and almost refuses it- cause Michael was actually offered as a bride/mate once a long time ago- hence the reason he's a caretaker now, cause last time, he ran away from the Boys with a girl named Star whom he loved... But the boys found them and took Star for themselves, but she was eventually was found killed on the steps outside of the entrance to the Chapel. Whether they killed or or her herself, no one knows.

But the Boys are persistent... And will do anything to have their demands answered. Even if it means threatening the Emerson family entirely.

So, Michael tragically goes in search of their request and makes his move to serve them. For the sake of his home, family, and town.