#and i know that and still want to kill myself when i think about

[thinkinonsense]

Sweet Temptations.

logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fingering, oral (f receiving), innocence kink, inexperienced reader, darkish!logan

a/n: hi! sorry i've been gone so long! i have plenty of stuff in the works but for now here's this. i'm working on making a mini-series of dark!logan x inexperienced!reader so i hope everyone enjoys! <3

to think, logan almost went out to the bar tonight. almost left to find a one night stand or come home and fuck his hand. tonight could've had so many different outcomes but luckily, he ended up with the best one.

there's a light knock on his bedroom door. he knew it had to have been you since everyone was on a field trip a couple hours away for the night. logan obviously wasn't interested in going and you were busy working on an experiment in the laboratory.

in all reality, logan just wanted an excuse to stay here alone with you overnight. ever since he joined the x-men and met you down in the lab in that cute white coat and pretty smile, he's had a crush on you.

"hi, logan." you smile softly when he opens his door.

"hey, dollface. you need something?" he asks, leaning against his door frame and eyeing that short little nightgown of yours.

"can we talk?"

"sure."

the two of you walk into logan's room and sit on the end of his bed. you sit up on your knees, facing him. he can tell that something is on your mind but you're unsure on if you should confide in him or not.

"is everything alright?" he asks, growing concerned.

you nod, chewing on your bottom lip.

"whatcha wanna talk about then, sweets?"

logan's large hand rubs your knee softly, almost coaxing the words out of you.

"would you do me a big favor?" you ask, avoiding his hazel gaze.

"of course."

there's slight hesitation. you were afraid of logan's reaction to your request. after a deep breath, you remind yourself that it's just logan. the same logan who trains with you every morning, the same logan who plays with your hair when he's board, the same logan who praises you for all your hard work in the laboratory. there was nothing to be afraid of.

"c-can you take my virginity?"

the question almost killed logan. he though he had died and gone to heaven. you finally look at him with a twinkle in your eyes and he feels the need to adjust the tent growing in his pants.

"where'd this idea come from, sweetheart?"

"well, i was seeing a guy a while ago who acted really weird when i told him i was still a virgin then when i told storm and jean, they told me that if i'm ready to do it, than it should be with someone i trust." you explain so innocently to him. "i just figured since you've always been so gentle with me and i trust you so, i was kinda hoping you wouldn't mind."

never in his wildest dreams could logan have imagined this happening. you sitting pretty on his bed, practically begging him to take your virginity. god, logan couldn't even remember the last time he was with a virgin. must've been decades ago.

"that's real sweet, dollface. 'f course i'll do it." he says, watching your smile grow with excitement. "first i need to know what you've already done."

"i've kissed while sitting in someone's lap, given a hickey twice... maybe three times? some nights i'll rub myself against one of my pillows."

even though he knew the answer, he had to ask,"ever fingered yourself?"

"no." you shake your head, almost making logan moan at just the thought of being the first person to do that to you.

"want to try it?"

"s-sure but i thought we were gonna–"

"we will." logan assures. "need to get you loosened up first if you want me to fit inside of you."

a small gasp exists your lips, making him chuckle. logan leans, testing the waters to see how you kiss. he's a bit shocked by how you pull him closer to deepen it. you moan into his mouth while your hands roam his hair. he sits you in his lap and lets you grind yourself on top of him, showing him what you know.

"let's see if you're nice and wet for me." logan hums, lifting up your nightgown and feeling the wet spot over your underwear. "very good, dollface."

without thinking, you let out a tiny moan next to his ear because of his praise. he can't help but pull your head from its hiding spot in his neck to look at you.

"you like when i tell you how good you're being for me?" he ask, watching your face contort as your hips keep moving. one of his hands rests on your waist, stopping you from moving. "c'mon, you can tell me."

"mhm..." you nod. "love when you praise me."

suddenly, your back is pressed flat against his sheets as he kisses all down your body. leaving little marks here and there until he reaches the waist band of your pretty pink underwear.

"did you wear these just for me, princess?" he asks, placing a kiss right over the cotton covering your button.

"y-you said i looked p-pretty in pink."

as the words stumble out of your mouth, logan feels a warmth spread across his heart. a couple months ago, you were wearing a new pink dress and as logan passed you by, he mentioned how pretty you looked in the color. it meant a lot to you.

"you still do." he says. "can i take these off of you, baby?"

you nod, lifting your hips a little to help him. logan tosses the pink cotton somewhere behind him. lifting up the nightgown to your tummy, eyes glued to the spot in between your legs.

"didn't think you could get any prettier." logan mumbles to himself.

his intense gaze made you feel a bit vulnerable, trying to close your legs but his large hands stop you.

"don't hide from me, princess." he says, capturing your attention. " 'm gonna make you feel good."

logan carefully drags his thumb through your slit, collecting the arousal and circling it around your button. the feather like touch sends your head back and whimpers to fall from your lips. gently, logan pushes his middle finger past your velvet walls, groaning once you clench around him.

"atta girl, princess." he smirks watching you swallow up his finger. "takin' it so good."

logan watches in awe as your head fall back and the arch in your back. slowly he inches his face closer and licks a thick stripe up your fold before sucking softly on your button. you feel logan muffle 'fuck' against you, only resulting in more arousal to spill out of you.

"o-oh, logan." you moan, hips chasing his tongue feverishly.

since this was your first time, logan went easy on you, not making you work for your orgasm. he feels your cunt clench down on his one finger as it hits deep inside of you until you are seeing stars. with logan's other free hand, he paws at your tit and rolls it in his palm.

"need m-more!" you whimper with glossy eyes and lips. "p-please, lo."

in an attempt to give you what you want, logan struggles to hit another finger inside of you. he wasn't sure what he did to deserve this type of heaven but god, was he thankful for it.

"i can't, sweetheart." he groans, kissing your hip bone as he speeds up the finger inside of you. "you're too tight for two of my fingers. there's no way i'll be able to fit inside of you tonight."

before you could whine in protest, this indescribable wave of euphoria washes over you. smooth silky legs wrap tightly around logan's head. thighs covers his ears, blocking out the sweet sounds you were making. logan goes back to sloppily making out with your cunt until you weakly pull him off and drag him up to your lips, tasting your own release on his tongue.

"thanks, lo." you smile in a daze at him.

"anytime." he says. "i think you'll need another lesson soon though if you want to take all of me. do you want that, princess?"

he could feel your heart rate increase eagerly. you blush intensely and avoid his gaze as you nod.

"alright." he chuckles darkly. "but first, you gotta show me how you get off on your pillow."

[mooshkat]

i haven't watched the episode. don't really care to. but apparently eddie is looking at houses in el paso?? and i've always related way too much to buck and the way people in his life leave so much so.

listening to 'please don't go' by abbey glover while writing this is devastating btw. highly recommend to add to the hurt.

tw for suicide attempt.

Buck drops Eddie off at the airport and then just...doesn't go home. He doesn't think as he drives, taking turns and just alert enough to be safe on the road, but honestly? He has no fucking idea how he ends up in the mountains, parking in the small dirt lot at the end of the hiking trail.

Everything feels numb. Static fills his brain and spreads down his neck, all the way to the tips of his fingers.

He turns off the Jeep and takes out the keys. Drops them carelessly into the cup holder.

He should've seen this coming, right? People leave; they always have, and always will. Everyone from his own sister to his ex-girlfriends, and his ex-boyfriend. Now his best friend.

There's just something buried deep into his very being, something built into the coding for Evan Buckley, that makes people leave him. No matter how much he clings and wants to fight for it, they'll walk away from him and his love.

It's him, it has to be.

Buck leaves behind his wallet, his keys, his work bag. Everything is left in the Jeep except for his phone, because no matter how much people leave him with barely a goodbye, it goes against everything that makes Buck, well, Buck to do it himself.

He knows this trail. Tommy and he have been on it before, once or twice after Buck dragged him along with him. They'd stopped at the top, where a small cliff overlooks the beautiful scenery with LA off in the far distance.

He remembers the way Tommy pushed him against a tree and sank to his knees, looking up at Buck with an adorable, bright grin with scrunches up his nose. Buck misses that grin fiercely.

The sun is just beginning to rise as Buck starts his walk. He doesn't go up the mountain with a specific plan in mind, didn't wake up to take Eddie to the airport at four in the morning, and think I'm going to kill myself today, but the higher he gets on the trail, the more he knows.

It's early enough that he has the trail to himself. That's good. It's not, he needs to turn around and go back to the Jeep, go home but his feet keep moving him up, up, up. There's nobody around who will have to see what he's about to do and be traumatized by it.

He's seen more than his share of deaths through work, he knows how badly it can fuck you up. He doesn't want to do that to someone else.

When he gets to the top, Buck stops and just breathes. The air is fresher up here, cleaner. It makes some of the buzzing in his head quiet down. He can feel his fingers again, feel the way his heart pounds from the cardio workout of climbing, and make his hands throb.

He walks to the edge of the cliff and sits down, his feet dangling over the edge. There's a boulder a few feet away from the edge that holds memories of him leaning back against it as Tommy kisses him, holding Buck's hips with hands hot enough to brand him.

His very soul feels branded by Tommy. His chest aches every day, making his stomach sink with a homesick feeling he hasn't had since before he moved to LA. His apartment is still full of the baked goods that he creates every time he has to try to not call or text him.

He doesn't stop himself from calling him today.

Buck almost thinks it's going to go to voicemail before it's picked up at the last second.

"...Go for Kinard?" Tommy answers, clearing his throat. His voice is sleep-rough and deep, and Buck hasn't heard it in so long that it's like applying balm to very shattered, torn edges of a wound. "Hello? Who is–Ev—Buck?"

"Did I ever tell you," Buck starts, and he sounds just as rough, but he's more awake than he ever has been, despite the bone deep tiredness that fills him, "about the fact that I was made to be a savior baby for a brother I never met? My parents made me in a science tube so that they could use my bone marrow to heal my brother, Daniel, but it didn't work. I thought for a little while after I found out that it was because I was defective, but I get it now."

Sheets rustle on the other line before Tommy sits up again. "What are you talking about, Evan? What's wrong?"

Buck continues talking, bowling over Tommy's questions like he didn't hear them. "I think there's something inside of me that's toxic. Toxins drive people away, it makes them sick, it's the only thing I can think of that makes sense for why everybody I love gets sick of me and leaves. It has to be me, right? Nobody stays, not forever. There's something wrong with me and I've finally figured it out."

"No, Evan," Tommy says, voice soft. He can hear the concern, though, the urgency hidden under his tone. There's the sound of jingling keys and a door opening and closing. Tommy's too far away to stop him.

"Sometimes, people leave. It's just what they do, it is nothing about you or what you've done. It's them. Their problems. My problems, that we should–we should sit down and talk about. Evan, where are you? I'm worried."

He almost doesn't want to tell him, but maybe it'd be better for someone to come out and collect his body so he doesn't ruin the trail. Leave it as you found it, or whatever. He gives Tommy his location and ignores the way it starts a mental countdown in the back of his mind. He doesn't have long now.

"It is me, Tommy. I want to believe you, but I can't. Not when hard evidence for almost my entire fucking life says otherwise. My parents emotionally left before I was even born. Maddie. Abby. Other girlfriends. I even lost the 118 at one point–thanks to that stupid mistake with the lawyer. Everybody leaves. And–and now with you, and Eddie. I'm tired, Tommy. I'm so goddamn tired."

Tears drip down Buck's cheeks. It's exhausting, viewing every relationship as a ticking time bomb waiting to go off, waiting for them to exit left out of his life. He thought things might be different with Tommy, it was one of his longest relationships, but he was wrong.

"You know, when you broke up with me that night, you said you'd be my first, but not my last. You were wrong. I-I love you so much, Tommy, even though you broke my heart. I hate you for leaving just like everyone else, but I also love you. You'll always be my first and last now. It's my turn to leave."

"Evan!" Tommy shouts into the phone and Buck cringes. "Evan, please, don't do anything. I'm on my way, okay, baby? Please just sit still and wait for me and we can talk–about everything. Please."

It'd be so easy to lean forward and let gravity do the work to drag him off the edge. The side of the cliff digs into the bottom of his thighs and he kicks his feet, knocking against some of the dirt and watching it tumble down.

His phone starts buzzing insistently in his hand with texts. Tommy must have sent out a message. He doesn't look at any of them as he pulls his phone to set it on Do Not Disturb before putting it to his ear again.

He doesn't know what to do. He wants the hurt to stop, he just wants it all to stop, but he's afraid. What if he's too weak to commit? Just like he's too weak to not let people back into his life, even if he knows they'll just leave again.

Weak and toxic.

He drops his phone onto his lap and hunches down, elbows pressing into his knees as he covers his face. He can hear sirens in the distance getting closer.

A strangled sob rips its way from his throat and he makes his decision.

"Okay. I'll wait for you."

There's an audible sigh of relief from Tommy. "Thank you, Evan. I'll be right there, okay? Keep talking to me, baby."

He doesn't know what to say anymore and tells Tommy as much.

"That's okay, Evan. I-I heard from Howie that you were baking lately? What have you been baking?"

Buck knows what's Tommy's doing. He's stalling so that Buck doesn't kill himself before Tommy and the first responders can get to him. He's done it dozens of times before to people on the edge while he's rescuing them.

"A lot of bread, really. Pumpkin bread, banana bread, butternut squash. I even, uh, have a sourdough starter that I've been feeding for a couple of weeks now. I named it Billy because it looks sometimes just like the, uh, boils I got from the curse when it expands."

Tommy lets out a watery laugh. "Of course, you'd name your sourdough starter." He clears his throat and the sirens are suddenly much louder in Buck's ears before they cut off abruptly. Quiet, rushed talking that Buck doesn't understand before Tommy starts running. "What else?"

"I made baked Alaska pretty soon after we broke up. It took me hours to make, and the entire time it was setting in the freezer, I had to bake other things to stop myself from calling you. I-I don't know if Chim told you that's why I started baking, but it is."

When Tommy responds, it's not through the phone. He comes to a stop beside him. "It sounds like your coping mechanism was more productive than mine, at least. Want to get away from the edge for me, Evan?"

He holds out his hand and Buck takes it with a shaky laugh. "Oh, yeah? What was yours?" The knowledge that Tommy was moping just as bad as Buck makes him feel...something.

"Eating entire pints of ice cream by myself on the couch while watching rom-coms." Tommy pulls Buck to his feet and wraps his arms tight around him. Buck can feel how badly Tommy is shaking. "Thank god you're okay. Thank you so much for calling me, Evan. Fuck."

Buck hugs him back and ignores the paramedics lingering behind him. He knows he's going to be taken away in the ambulance and put under a 72-hour hold because of this. He doesn't think about that, or what it means for his job when he's let out.

He focuses on Tommy and the way he clings to him. He came back. Sure, maybe he'll leave again when the initial scare of everything fades away, but it's more than most people have done in the past.

Tommy pulls away first and holds Buck's face gently in his hands. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and more spill over as he looks Buck over. "I love you too. I didn't say it earlier and didn't say it then, but I am now. I love you so much, Evan Buckley.

It doesn't fix everything, doesn't even scratch the surface, but it raises something dangerous in Buck's chest.

Hope.

[missingininaction]

alright, friends, i might say something you don't like but i think it's important. not just to defend a character, but because i think this is literally making people's experience and relationship with this game worse.

give jimmy like two seconds to exist.

by hating jimmy so much you refuse to even say his name, and judge real, living people for liking him, you are cheapening your experience by boiling down the main character to the most ~yuckiest~ moments. and, by not making a seperate space for hating on him, you are drowning out the voices of people who actually have nuanced things to say about his character. you know, the skilled writers and artists that feed the fandom? limitation is what kills fandoms, you have to know that.

is jimmy a good person? no. is he a good captain/companion/worker? Absolutely Not! he crumbles like dust under any pressure and he immediately shifts blame off of himself, he is an actively harmful individual and it's right to be upset by his actions. i literally had to stop myself from saying "man FUCK jimmy." multiple times because i didn't want to spoil how terrible he got to my friends when i showed the game to them.

but you have to understand; people are more than their actions. thats part of the entire point of the game. thats why its so abstract. you are meant to think about the nuances of their situation.

we can agree that anya was way more as a woman than what happened to her and what she did as a result of it, right? that despite her best efforts, she was a victim of circumstance, and she deserves to be understood and analyzed fully?

then why, seeing a fictional man who has done immoral things, are you so disgusted you won't even draw, write or discuss him outside of hate? what is that doing for you, to ignore literally the main character of the game because of his actions?

now, this is not to say people can't hate jimmy. i understand it! as someone who has been a victim of s/a and abuse, i understand if you hate him and are even triggered by him to the point of avoiding mention of him. (but...why are you in this fandom? ((not aggressive im genuinely asking)))

you can feel however you want about any character, my goal is not to control people. but i thought it was common knowledge to not hatepost about someone in their tag? over actual insight into his character and, you know, the main themes of the game?

jimmy is a man who has struggled his whole life. both him and curly confirm that in the game. he's unable to control his emotional outbursts, and he likely had no idea what to expect from being in fucking SPACE for over a year with people he probably didn't even know before that trip. and pony express and their corporate safety corner cutting certainly didnt help, did it?

for one reason or another, he most likely was never actually taught how to manage his emotions. that's just how it is sometimes, growing up as a man. and it would make sense if he was forced to deal with everything himself, no? he always complains, but he still says he'll handle it. because that's what he's always had to do. and this is just the start of what i could say about what made him the way that he is.

he's a victim too, not only of his own actions.

surprise surprise, people who do awful things can also be victims.

honestly, this entire situation baffles me. how are you going to avoid one of the main characters of the game, let alone the one you play as ninety percent of the time? mind you, curly is also guilty, and i am happy to see at least some people giving him space for nuance. because he is also a victim!!! why is it so impossible to see jimmy as nuanced, when literally every other character also has incredible depth to them??

you're tarnishing and spitting on the beautiful writing of this game just because one character is too icky for you to feel comfortable thinking about for too long. it's horror, you absolute morons. it's supposed to make you uncomfortable.

if you hate jimmy, i dont blame you. but please, please, make your own space for it. be kind to people who want to explore jimmy and the darker themes, and like him for what his character represents. this is a video game fandom, not a witch hunt. and please, learn some fandom etiquette while you're at it, okay? okay. thank you

also just say his name. its not a slur youre not gonna go to hell if you say jimmy. like this isn't as important but still it just feels like a microcosm of this whole thing.

[sequinsandfins]

Oh. So you’re saying Daniel would have definitely been Max’s ICE contact for the many years before this year? @saapphicx and I being one brain cell again had the same thought and so I wrote it into existence.

Five times Daniel is a very good emergency contact and one time Max isn’t.

1 - It’s 2:38am and Daniel’s phone rings. He groggily reaches for it because he’d set it to silent before bed and there are only a handful of people who would break that.

It’s Max.

“Max?” Daniel answers, trying to wake himself up.

“Daniel! Can you please help!” His younger teammate whispers through the phone.

“Uh, sure. Why are you whispering?”

“Because it’s late?”

Daniel scrunches up his face trying to make sense of what Max is saying.

“I locked myself out.” Max says quietly and Daniel snorts even as he’s reaching for shorts to pull on.

“Hold your horses Maxy, I’m on my way.”

Daniel stops by his kitchen to grab the spare key that Max had given him one he realised they lived in the same building, ‘For Emergency Only Daniel!’ Is on the keyring attached to the key.

Daniel sleepily makes his way upstairs to find Max sitting on the floor outside his door. He’s too tired to register Max’s eyes widening at his half undressed state. He unlocks the door and immediately retreats, heading back to bed.

“Thank you Daniel,” Max says and Daniel stops, turning around and smiling.

“Anytime Maxy, you can count on me!”

Daniel gives a silly salute and heads back to bed, throwing Max’s key on his side table and falling asleep almost as soon as his head hits the pillow.

2 - Daniel is posing for a photo with a fan when his phone starts ringing. He throws a huge smile and then apologetically pulls his phone out of his pocket to see that it’s Max.

“MaxEmilian!” Daniel shouts happily.

“Daniel, are you still near the track?”

“Yessir, what’s up?”

“I have forgotten my wallet and this stupid restaurant will not let me go until I have paid. Please tell me you have money?”

Daniel laughs, “Even better, I have a credit card. Send me your location and I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Daniel is happy to see that Max isn’t far and it only takes him 5 minutes on foot, miraculously no one stops him for a selfie.

“Your knight in shining armor has arrived!” Daniel announces loudly and obnoxiously to the restaurant.

Max rolls his eyes but smiles in thanks when Daniel pays.

“You know what this means now?”

Max gives him a suspicious look.

“I think you owe me dinner.”

“Yes of course Daniel.” Max just shakes his head and rolls his eyes again.

3 - Daniel is lazing about by the pool of his LA home when his phone rings.

He frowns. It’s Max.

Daniel tries to work out the time difference between LA and Monaco but gives up, deciding that it’s probably not a reasonable time to be awake but he answers all the same.

“Daniel!” Max yells down the line, “Please tell me you have your laptop with you!”

“Uh, yes?”

“Good! I need you to join our game! We are getting destroyed. Some fucker keeps killing me every time I respawn!”

“Uh, Max, are you sure you meant to call me? Wouldn’t Lando be–”

“DANIEL ARE YOU GOING TO SAVE ME OR NOT?!”

Daniel rolls his eyes and heads indoors to try and work out what game Max is talking about.

Daniel is shit at gaming, but who is he to ignore Max in his time of need?

4 - Daniel isn’t sure that this is an emergency. Not that he’s complaining, but watching Max model his latest ‘Unleash the Lion’ merchandise isn’t exactly what he would consider a pressing issue.

“What do you think Daniel?”

“I dunno, it looks good?”

“But what do you think?” Max is frowning at him, “you of course know how much work goes into a release, I would like your help.”

Daniel isn’t sure that Max would like to know what he thinks, which is that the t-shirt he’s got on would look much better strewn across the floor of his bedroom. Max in his bed, and Daniel wanting to find out if this lion has claws.

He coughs, adjusting himself slightly and tries to focus on the different fabric samples Max had presented him with.

Surely he has a whole team working on this. Daniel loves Max, but who thought it would be a good idea leaving these kinds of decisions in his hands.

“Okay, then go with this one.” He points to the 95% Cotton, 5% Elastane/Jersey fabric.

“Thank you Daniel! What would I do without you?” Max smiles, and twists his body around looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“Dunno mate, hope we never have to find out.”

5 - “Maxy?” Daniel says between kisses

“Hmmm?”

“How is this exactly an emergency?”

“I was thinking I would die if I could not kiss you soon.” Max answers matter of factly before pushing Daniel back on the bed and straddling him.

“Well we don’t want that.” Daniel pulls Max down and letting their lips meet once more, can’t help but smile into it. He can’t believe he loves how much of a dork his boyfriend is.

+1

Max is cuddled up to Daniel on the couch. Jimmy and Sassy have each claimed a side and are curled up next to them as some nature documentary is playing on the tv.

Daniel has fallen asleep and Max is scrolling his phone, not wanting to force them to move just yet.

A phone call interrupts his focus and Max frowns. He rejects the call, and then watches as he’s notified of a live voicemail.

‘Max It’s Liam I’m somehow locked in the Red Bull factory can you call someone for me I don’t have anyone else’s numbers’

Max swipes away the message and looks at Daniel.

He's not going to risk waking him. Liam is a big boy. He can work out how to get out of there himself.

[azaharinflames]

Will you share your theory on what you think is happening behind the scenes of 911?

Hi, Nonnie!

Sure! As long as everyone is aware this is purely speculation, and nothing I say should be taken as proof of anything, I have no problem.

I've gone over a few things in my head, to be honest. I thought that JLH having filming conflicts could've been a major factor, and I still don't exactly disagree with that initial idea, but overall I think it was one of the things that threw TM for a loop.

Now, I've seen a lot of people theorize that perhaps Angela is leaving and that is what is causing so much chaos in BTS, but I am on the fence about this. I do think she might've asked to not have such a big role moving forward, especially if they get a season 9 (which I am also on the fence about ngl), like perhaps retiring, or just having a more laidback position training new recruits. The seeds are planted for that, not so much for her fully leaving. And it would give Angela more free time to dedicate to other projects (which, yes please. I need her in new projects ASAP).

So... (and please don't kill me for this, it's just a theory).

I think it all comes back to Ryan. And that he perhaps is leaving, or actively wants to leave. I will try to explain myself as concise as possible:

A couple of months ago there was already speculation about this. In all of his individual interviews (which were a lot, to be honest), Ryan made a point of talking about his work beyond 911 and talking about what he would like to do after 911.

On top of the individual promo, there was an uncharacteristically high amount of BTS dedicated to him and the godforsaken mustache. To the point where they threw a mustache party. And in the pics of that party, the vibes were that it was a party for Ryan, not in general.

Small thing, but Josh randomly dressing up as Eddie for Halloween. Perhaps unrelated, but I wanted to add it.

The 911 account reposting and celebrating Ryan's 100th ep, when 1. it wasn't his 100th (if we count the eps he was actually in) and 2. it was also JLH's, and yet they didn't say a thing about it. Ryan reposted that as well and the message he reposted it with was more nostalgic than anything else. Very much giving 'it was an honor to work with you, what a journey'.

I could be wrong, but I do think his contract ends this season. So, that just adds to it.

The timeline of the move to Texas. By the reactions alone I was fully expecting Eddie to leave for Texas at the end of 808, and then to be back with Chris (in a lazy way of solving their conflict off-screen) by 809-810. But the way he's currently thinking about it makes it very sus for me. As in, it can be a thing for the end of the season, and an actual goodbye for Eddie.

Of course, nothing of this has to actually happen, and it's quite possible it just exists in my brain. But this makes sense in my funny brain because then it explains why BT had to break up so soon... because they wanted Buck to feel completely isolated.

We know 809-10 will deal with Maddie being kidnapped. That alone will make Buck spiral. But if on top of that his best friend is also leaving... well, being alone just adds to the isolation and the angst. Because if Tommy was still around he'd be able to lean on him, and have him help him through this. But it seems like the writers wanted Buck fully alone for this, because sure, seeing a character never learning and being completely isolated is so much fun.

If this ends with BT getting back together, I honestly don't know. It wouldn't surprise me if Tim doesn't know. But, all in all, I wouldn't be surprised if RG deciding he's done is the thing that kinda created the domino effect.

(Also: I do not believe Oliver was telling Tim to fire Lou and end BT. Sorry. I just don't really see it. Nor do I think there were actual conflicts between actors BTS, as much as everything they're doing right now does feel a bit weird)

Anyway, thanks for letting me rant, Nonnie! My inbox is always open for ranting, venting, or discussing

Take care <3

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

A/N: Look what I have for you. Is it Christmas or what? So, this one is a bit shorter, but I wanted to give you something. I am still a sucker for Logan. I just want him so bad, oh my god!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader

Warning: angst, but fluff, implied sex?

Please, do not read if you are under 18. This story has sexual scenes.

Words: 2500+

Important note: HughJackman!Wolverine - always!

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - BEGIN AGAIN

My body winced and I opened my eyes. The nightmare was gone. I was back in the real world. Was it better than the dream? No. But I was back, on a motel bed that smelled like bleach and mould. At least I had a bed to rest on tonight. Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be as promising as today. Hell, I could be dead now. 

I felt a warm touch on my belly. Fingers traced patterns on my skin. My eyes lifted, meeting the green ones. “Are you okay, baby?” Logan whispered into the darkness. 

It was a ridiculous question to ask. I was not okay. Shit, he wasn’t either. We went through literal hell. So I snuggled closer to him, sniffing his scent as I tried to suppress my tears. “No,” I mumbled into the white top he wore. “I see them in my dreams, haunting me. They are calling my name, pleading for my help.” 

We lost everything, everyone. 

It started when the mutant hunters killed the strongest of us - Jean. We didn’t know how the fuck they managed to do it. She was the fucking Phoenix. We quickly learnt they created a weapon to strip us of our powers. Afterwards, it was too easy. With Jean gone, we knew the rest of us was next. 

Scott died a week later. He wanted revenge. He tried to kill those who killed his love, his woman. Unfortunately, he was captured, stripped of his powers and murdered. 

Charles felt it all. He felt it when Jean died. He felt when Scott’s heart started to beat. We knew this was the end of the line when he told us. 

The whole school prepared for war. The youngest students were sent home or away with those who didn’t want to fight. The rest of them we trained. They wanted to stay, fight with us, and protect the school and this family we built. 

And we lost. 

They all died. Charles, Storm, Hank, Peter… They were all gone. Logan and I fled the moment we realised there wasn’t much we could do. We saw the dead bodies around the school—our friends, and students, lifeless on the bloody wooden floors in a place we once called home.

I hated we left them there. I hated we couldn’t say goodbye. I would have died too if Logan hadn’t pulled me out of the bloodshed. The thought of leaving Logan alone in this unfair cruel world pained me. At least, we survived together. At least I had him.

It’s been two days since we lost our friends - the family we loved and cherished. Two days since we lost our lives and were on the run. This was the first night we were able to lay low and rest. It was because we escaped the States and entered Canada before being caught. It helped that Logan was Canadian.

Logan kissed my forehead. “I see them, too. Their faces haunt me. That’s why I can’t sleep.” 

A tear escaped my eye. I quickly wiped it away. “There was so much blood, Logan. They let them bleed out.” 

“I know,” he whispered. 

I started to cry. My body was shivering. I felt his arms wrap around my shoulder and middle, pulling me as close to him as possible. “Shhh,” he kissed the top of my head. I couldn’t help myself. My emotions were all over the place. I wasn’t able to mourn the loss properly. We had to hide from the world. There was no time to think about our next steps. 

His touch became soothing. I felt the love radiating towards me. I loved him deeply, madly. For this man, I would sell my soul to the devil. And in this twisted world full of death, I was happy that we survived the biggest nightmare of our lives. 

I don’t know how I managed to fall asleep, but when I opened my eyes again, I saw the sun coming through the crack of the curtains. The big, strong arms never left my body. When I glanced at Logan’s face, his eyes were closed. His breathing was even. He was asleep. Good. 

I remained in his embrace, snuggled to his side. I used this opportunity to think about our next steps. I needed to occupy my mind with something, anything. 

We left the States. Now what? Was it wise to stay in Canada? It was so close to the States. What if they decide to hunt mutants in here, too? Even if we moved north, they’d find us there. And maybe… nowhere was safe. Our destiny was already written. We were doomed. 

My eyes were locked on the beige ceiling, and I imagined a plan as my thoughts ran through my mind. I was going back and forth. When I didn’t like the plan, I erased it to a certain point and then moved forward again. 

Out of nowhere, I gasped. There was an important detail I forgot. How could I be so stupid? 

“What?” Logan’s eyes snapped open. He sat up and pushed me away in the process. His fists were clenched, adamantium claws on full display, ready to fight. His breathing was hard. I scared him. Shit. 

Gently, I put my hand on his chest. “It’s just me, I’m so sorry. Everything’s fine.” 

“You okay, baby?” he asked when his eyes found mine. Once I nodded, the claws retracted and he exhaled. “You scared me, Y/N. I thought someone found us. Don’t fucking ever do that again.” 

I shook my head, pressing him back on the bed. “I’m so sorry. I was just thinking about our future. I had been contemplating our next steps, thinking back and forth. And…” I sighed. “We can’t stay in Canada.” 

He frowned, then raised a brow. “Why?” It was a genuine question. 

“You are Canadian, Logan. This will be the first country they’d start to look for you - for us,” I explained. “I get that Canada is one of the biggest states in the world. But, as I said, the main focus would be here, once they have permission to strike here.” 

Logan frowned, not pleased with what I said. It took him a good twenty seconds before he nodded. “Well, you aren’t wrong. So, where should we go?” 

“Scotland.” 

He opened his mouth, closed it, and did it a few times before he said, “Why Scotland?” 

My fingers traced his beard-covered jawline. “I’m half Scottish,” I said. “Scottish-American. I have two passports. I have them here. I took them before we left. I have your IDs and all.” 

“H-how?”

“Always prepared for the worst,” I admitted sadly. “Kept them in a bag with some money and all,” I explained. “When Jean died, I made sure we were ready. I prepared an emergency bag that I kept in a hidden spot. That’s why I ran to the first escape door. The bag was under the floor.”

“My sweet angel,” he exhaled and leaned to me to press his lips on mine. “Always ready. But, no offence, you don’t sound Scottish. You don’t look Scottish,” he chuckled, and I rolled my eyes. “You never told me.” 

My eyes moved around the room, stopping at the creek of the sun coming in. “My father was Scottish. Mother was American. When they died, my mother’s sisters wanted to take me in. They were super religious. They thought they’d be able to cure my mutation with God’s mighty power,” I rolled my eyes. “Luckily, my grandma took me in. I lived with her until I was twenty. Then I decided to move back to the States.” 

Logan’s fingers brushed my hair. “Thank fucking god you did.” When I looked at him, he was smiling. “Otherwise I wouldn’t met you.” 

I climbed over him, putting all my weight on his body. He didn’t mind. Logan’s arms immediately wrapped around me. “We should head to Scotland,” I whispered. “It’s not Canada but my grandmother lives in a village, near the woods. It was magical then. It should be magical now, too.”

He raised a brow, watching me like a hawk. “How do you know she’s still alive?” 

My fingers brushed his nose. “Because I can feel her,” I said. “She’s a mutant too.”

“She is? What’s her mutation?” 

“Nature control,” I explained. “I’m not saying she’s the strongest, but she’s powerful enough to communicate with me through nature, all those miles away.” 

His lips found mine in a gentle kiss. “So we head to Scotland,” he whispered.

“Will you be able to get through the flight?”

His nose scrunched. “For you, I’ll do anything, baby. I’ll get on the fucking plane and suffer through it if it means to be with you.” 

Those words brought tears to my eyes. “I love you. Thank you.” 

. . .

Where are the mutants? It’s been ten years since Charles Xavier’s school for gifted youngsters was destroyed. Since then, no one has seen a mutant. Are they hiding? Are they extinct? More on that this afternoon, at four PM. 

I sighed. Another radio show about mutants. Great. Will they ever leave us at peace? I put my coffee mug down, my eyes locked on the kitchen window as I watched the rain heavily fall from the sky. I loved this dark, cold weather. Autumn in Scotland was magical. Yes, some hated the weather, but not me. I enjoyed it. 

Big hands wrapped around my midsection, pressing me as close to a firm stomach and chest as possible. I hummed, smiling. His scent made my knees weak even after all this time. His lips pressed a kiss to the top of my head. 

“How is my wife today?” Logan’s voice was low but soft. He smelled like rain, mud and oil. He just came back from work. At least he took off the wet clothes before he got all over me. 

Logan and I got married two years after we moved to Scotland. My grandmother died a year before that. I was lucky enough to spend some time with her before she passed. Oh, but she loved Logan. She always called him: my sweet boy. 

I put my hands over his, sighing. “I’m better now that you are here. There was another radio show about mutants,” I said. “How was work?” 

“Alan got stuck under a tree and broke his leg,” he said. “I helped him out and we got him to the nearest hospital. So, he’ll be out for about six to eight weights. Which means a bit more work but more money.” 

I turned around in his arms, eyes meeting his. “How much work? Will you be coming late to us?” 

Logan leaned closer and pressed his lips against mine. “Don’t worry, baby. Nothing drastic, maybe staying at work for an hour longer. And it’s not gonna happen every day. I wouldn’t want to be without you all longer than I need to.” 

Again, our lips met in a sweet kiss, then another until he pressed me against the kitchen counter. His big hand gripped my hips. He was hungry, I could feel it. Even his erection was evident. I wanted him. “Wait, where are the kids?” he pulled from the kiss. 

“In the barn,” I moaned when his lips left mine. I needed him. I put my hands on his chest. This was the perfect opportunity fuck in the kitchen while the kids were nowhere near the house. And hell, it’s been some time since we were intimate. I unbuttoned his flannel shirt. 

We had two kids. Charles, whom we called Charlie, was almost ten. My grandmother was able to see him as an infant before she passed away. She wasn’t happy that we had a child before marriage. But she was all giddy and happy for us once she saw the baby.

And then there was Emma Maria, after my grandmother and Rogue, our friend. She was eight. As far as we knew, Charlie’s mutation didn’t show up. It was only a matter of time before they blossomed. At least both of our children could enjoy childhood without being a threat to the world. 

Logan pulled on my lower lip. “Pretty baby is needy?” He hoisted me up on the kitchen counter, stepping between my legs. “I know, it’s been a while since I was inside you.” His hands stroke my thighs. One of them crawled crawled up my body and the other cupped my clothed sex. 

I closed my eyes, enjoying his touch until he kissed me gently and stepped away. “They are coming inside,” he sighed. Immediately, I whined. 

As I hopped off the kitchen counter, the back door opened, and our children entered the tiny hallway. We heard them undressing and talking to each other. Emma coughed. I frowned. I hoped she wasn’t getting sick. 

Logan leaned against the kitchen aisle, waiting for the kids as I jumped off the counter. Once Emma’s eyes noticed him, she smiled at him. “Hi, dad!” 

“Hey, princess,” he greeted her. He took her into his big arms once she was close, pressing a kiss on top of her head. “What you were doing in the barn?” 

“We have kittens!” she said excitedly. 

I raised a brow. “Oh? Since when?” I saw a stray cat a few times here. I didn’t know she was expecting babies. Well, at least we’ll have someone to catch mice around here. Also, it was beautiful news. I loved cats.

Charlie hugged his father. “They are a couple of days old,” he explained. “She had five of them.” 

“Five?” Logan sighed. I knew he wasn’t happy about it. Before he opened his mouth, I gave him a warning glare. 

“They are so cute and tiny,” Emma smiled. “We’ll keep them, right?” She glared at her father and then at me.

I nodded. “Of course, Em. They can stay in the barn. We have some old towels and clothes. I think I have a spare plastic container for water. We’ll give them a safe home and they’ll be with us.” 

“Baby,” Logan sighed. 

I raised a hand. I didn’t want to hear a word about it. When I found the container, I gave it to Emma. “You’ll bring them water. Charlie, find an old carton box in the garage. I’ll fetch you the towels. And listen,” I turned to him. “Put it into the box nicely and leave the box in a secure, warm space. Don’t put the kittens there. She’ll do it herself,” I explained. 

The moment both kids disappeared, Logan shook his head. “I don’t like this, baby.” 

“Let them have this,” I said. “We don’t have a dog. The cats will stay in the barn and outside. No one is taking them into the house, okay?” 

“Uh-huh,” he rolled his eyes. “Give it a day or two. Emma will sneak them in.” 

I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him closer to me. “I have my ways of convincing you,” I purred. I pressed my lips to his in a searing kiss. “Just be a good daddy and let the kittens stay.” 

He shook his head, chuckling. Logan leaned closer, his lips to my ear. “I might need a little more convincing to keep the kittens. So, be prepared.” 

I pressed my lips to his cheek. “I love you, Logan.” 

He smiled at me. “Love you too, baby. And the kids, and this life.” 

[lazyjellyfish300]

H-hey mootie

So it’s my birthday this week

So if you would make a blurb about drider!Miguel killing readers shitty husband then fucking her 🕷️

I would love it 🥺🥺🥺

Yes it’s Halloweeny that’s cause I didn’t have the energy to write it myself no matter the word count or format I know you can do it Justice!! Love ya!!

YES U CAN MY WONDERFUL MOOT. 🎉🎂 Dedicated to the amazing moot 🖤 HAPPY BIRTHDAY ILYYY 🕸️🕷️ @cullen-rutherford-wifey

Huge thanks to my moot adqui for the Spanish translation help, and to @politemenacephd for the inspiration and their flawless Drider!Miguel smut in Arachnophilia that helped me a ton with this fic. 🖤

can I be him

CW: MINORS DNI, X FEM!READER, MONSTERFUCKING, SMUT, P IN V, LOTS OF CUM, NIPPLE PLAY, LIGHT BONDAGE, SPIT, BREEDING, CREAMPIE, ANAL PLAY(idk if that's what it's called) EDGING, DRIDER!MIGUEL, ANGST, MUTUAL PINING, SLIGHTLY STALKER ISH BEHAVIOR, GRAPHIC BLOOD AND VIOLENCE, DOMESTIC DISPUTE, YOU HAVE A SHITTY HUSBAND, MURDER, INFIDELITY, A DARKER PIECE PLS PLSSSSS MIND THE WARNINGS.

Words 6.1k

Miguel shouldn't be doing this. But he can't help it. It was wrong to watch you like this. To want you like this. 

The warm glow cast by the screen floating in front of him softened his chiseled features as he gazed longingly at you through the portal of dimensions that kept you apart. 

A gorgeous, living variant of his own version of you that he could not save. The only one out of thousands he had come across. And believe that when he first lost you, his unfathomable grief kept him searching, scouring, waiting, hoping for months that there was one more universe out there where death didn't rip you away. 

And the first he discovered just had to be one where you belonged to someone else. 

Dated for almost five years now. Married for going on three. And the kicker was that bastard didn't even deserve you. 

The multiverse was cruel. In every other reality, tragedy irrevocably tainted the legacy of Miguel O'Hara. 

Always so close, and yet, never finding peace in any set of cards he was coldly dealt. 

In this particular dimension he was watching you from, he was a mutant with his top half being that of a man and the lower half, that of a spider. A large abdomen adorned in fuzzy black hair with eight enormous thick legs like a tarantula and venomous fangs, irises of bleeding crimson to match. He was a drider. A monster, as far as he was concerned. 

But there were times when he'd watch you that he'd allow himself to be crazy enough to dream that you could love someone like him.

At least in his mind he wasn't chained back by his fears and insecurities. At least for now in the sanctity of his office, your shitty husband didn't exist and you weren't lightyears away in an opposite plane of reality. You could be free to be all his, monstrous features be damned.

A version of you loved him once, would it really be all that far fetched to think you could possibly learn to love him again?

---

Another long day ended. You exhaled a weary sigh as you left the cold of late fall that was descending quickly into winter in the icy world behind you. Closing the door to your house that seldom felt like home these days. 

You supposed your life was okay, but still you wouldn't have chosen it had you known this feeling of monotony would haunt you everywhere you went.

From your job, to sometimes family, but most of all your marriage. Nearly all your life, you felt out of place, but never quite like this. You supposed it started as early as nine months into your relationship with your now husband. 

When he stopped buying flowers, when his texts became fewer, hours at work became longer, his patience shorter. You chalked it up to the unpredictable ebbs and flows of love.

"Love isn't perfect. Not all rainbows and butterflies," you were told time and time again. 

When your husband wanted to, he could be great. When he was bad, he could be exceptionally worse. But how could you be so sure? With practically nothing to compare it to, you supposed this was simply the path that was carved out for you. Mediocrity may be disappointing but passion alone couldn't keep a roof over your head. Stability was still a wiser thing to choose than comfortability. 

Even so, on the eve of your birthday, the empty spot next to you in bed that you slowly became accustomed to delivered that sharp reminder of just how lonely you really were. 

Tears fell and seeking solace, you shamelessly indulged and allowed your mind to visualize him. That mystery man from afar who haunted your dreams and took up permanent residence in your mind with his bewitching crimson eyes. Sometime around when you suspected the love your husband once had for you had all but ceased. 

You don't know why, but this being seemed to call for you, seemed to speak to you. To that forgotten part inside that for the life you couldn't explain why it remained empty.

It was almost like a cosmic bond to him, an adept yearning. An invisible lining etched into your very being that somehow recalled him in a different life. That gorgeous face without a name. 

Miguel. 

----

Miguel stirs awake, realizing he was a victim of sleep while watching you. His attention is called immediately to a growing spat between you and your husband. 

"I asked a simple fucking question, John. Where. were. you."

"And I GAVE YOU A SIMPLE FUCKING ANSWER. Don't. fucking. worry. about. it." 

Miguel sits up, high on alert, spider senses kicking in. Something about John's tone this time was highly unsettling. 

"You know what, I've lost count by now, John..." You flung your hands in the air, weary, defeated and broken down by the endless disappointment, tear soaked trails running from your eyes that hadn't stopped since last night. "But of all the days out of the year...you just couldn't keep it in your pants on my fucking birthday..." 

"Do you fucking hear yourself??" John screamed.  "Nobody said anything about cheating! Where in this entire conversation has there ever even a hint about cheating? I'll fucking tell you: NONE." He points an accusatory finger. "You brought this all on yourself, not me!" 

"It was Carla again, wasn't it." You nodded with a tearful sob, pacing around the living room.  "Carla, fucking, Carla..."

Maybe fixing these pillows could distract you from the agonizing realization that you were reliving the nightmare of John's infidelity. Going on three for three when you thought the first and second time he had learned enough. 

"I didn't sleep with goddamn Carla!!" John grabs a mug and hurls it at the wall. 

That's it. Miguel draws a portal immediately. His yearning had reached a breaking point, and this fight was all the push he needed to come to shove. Miguel O'Hara normally obeyed the rules, but this version of him was unlike the others. 

No rule was above being broken when it came to the lengths he would go for you. 

"Real fucking mature, John. What are you gonna do huh? Gonna hit me, choke me?? Maybe then you'll actually be half the man you think you are!" 

"Ohhh you fucking little..." 

But before the worst can happen, an otherworldly threat makes itself known with a random buzzing orange window opening, allowing an enormous half man, half spider through. 

You and your husband scream in horror, your conflict between you temporarily forgotten. 

"Shit shit SHITTTT!!! WHAT THE FUCK!! John what's happening??" 

"I don't fucking know..." John mumbles in disbelief, flinching as Miguel's long legs pound on the hardwood floor, echoing under his formidable size. His eyes appeared menacing, deeply laced with venomous dislike as he glowered at John, but seemed to soften, if not only for just a fleeting moment when they landed on you. 

"If...if we both don’t get out of this. I need to tell you something" John mumbles almost incoherently as your fingers dug into his arm. 

"W-what?" You turn to look at John, at this face that housed a soul inside it that you once knew but no longer recognized. Almost wordlessly appealing to whatever final shred of respect he had left inside for you as a last ditch effort to give you some semblance of the man you once loved. 

"I ruined everything. Your sister and I fucked. Just know, I'm sorry..."

And before you could even have a moment to compute that final godforsaken dagger he had the nerve to drive into your heart, he shoved you in the way of the monster like a piece of meat so he could save his cowardly ass. 

"JOHN!" the sound was wretched and broken. Devasted by betrayal. You shrieked in fear and brought your arms over your head, prepared to absorb whatever immense pain was about to wrack your whole body, praying frantically for a quick death. 

But, you gasped in alarm when no such fate arrived and Miguel charged headfirst at your fleeing coward of a husband, pinning him to a wall as nearby photographs came down with crash of splintering glass. 

His head hit the wall with a deafening crack, a dark pool of maroon beginning to leak from behind him and drip out of his nose. 

He yelled but the sound was quickly muffled as Miguel's calloused hands wrapped around his throat, a couple trails of blood oozing down his fist.  

"B-babe....aacghkk...please m'ergh sorry, I'm..." John tried to choke out, his teeth now coated in sheer red from where he bit his tongue, quiet trickles audible as the blood from his head seeped onto the floor underneath him.  

Miguel was only moments away from crushing his windpipe, but he untensed his jaw when he heard you trying to catch your breath on the floor. He turned, taking note of how helpless and fearful you looked. 

Though it would have given him immense pleasure to pull the plug, he had to think of you first. 

"Do you mind?" He merely asks, his eyes cold as his fingers tightened just a bit. 

"P-please..." John croaks. "Please...Babe..."

You're still reeling from anger that was slowly turning to anguish. As you looked at John, for the first time you felt nothing. It only took years and him nearly sacrificing you before himself for you to wake up and realize the sorry shell of a man he had turned into. 

"Goodbye, John." You uttered like venom and turned away as you heard the sickening crackle and then wet sound of choking blood as Miguel snapped John's neck in half. 

----

"You okay?" 

"Fine."

Miguel could tell you were lying. After swiftly disposing of the body in a different dimension and washing up, he had came back to discover you hadn't moved an inch from your spot on the floor. Your numbness kept you anchored, gazing into the haunting abyss of the blood spatter that remained on the wall. 

"Hey, easy now. " Miguel murmured as you finally began to stand up. 

"I can handle my own, thanks." 

"Of course, I mean..." He clears his throat, stomach uneasy when you became short with him. "Sorry."

You two sat opposite each other in the living room with you and on the couch and Miguel on the floor as that was the only space that could accommodate him. 

Sometime during the seemingly infinite silence, you realized all of this bullshit your now dead ex managed to put you through in his final hours on earth made you profoundly indifferent to the fact a literal drider broke into your home. 

"Who are you?" You ask at last. "And why didn't you kill me too?"

Miguel looks at you quickly, glad the empty silence was broken at last. "My name is Miguel." He looks down, shame in his expression. "And I, well.."

He doesn't think he should divulge all of his secrets yet. Surviving near death by drider and having your husband's cheating revealed shortly before his untimely death was more than enough burden to bear. 

"I'm not from around here." 

"I gathered that." Your eyes rake over his enormous form. You should be beside yourself. This man creature just killed your husband after all. But something about his voice was calming. Oddly soothing. Dare you say it was, rather attractive?

"So what are you, half spider?" 

For the first time, an inkling of amusement shows on his face. "What, did my eight legs give it away?" 

"Just a little." You hum, bringing your knees to your chest as you allowed yourself to relax. 

"You know, you're...eerily calm about all of this." 

"Heh...I know. Guess I kind of feel like I'm still asleep and I'm gonna wake up any minute." 

"Wanna test that theory?" Miguel quirks a brow. 

You pinch yourself while keeping your deadpan stare, holding it for a moment as if it would do anything. "Nope." 

"Wow." Miguel says sarcastically to which you can't help but snicker. "So, do weird occurrences like this happen to you often? Still doesn't explain why you're not completely hysterical about all this." 

"I watch the news." You shrug. "Crazy shit happens in New York all the time. What with Spider-Man being a thing and all. Just a step above normal, I'd say." 

"Ah." It made sense. Miguel should've known your dimension had its own spider. A little bit of relief washed over him. At least this made things a bit less messy on his end. He falls silent again, stealing little glances of you now and then. 

You were fucking ethereal in person. Being this close was something he only dreamed about. Now that it was happening in real time, he was wracking his mind desperately for ideas on how to drag it out as long as he could. 

"So if I may: how'd you become half spider?" You ask the hard question at last. 

Miguel raises his eyebrows, somewhat relieved you took the first leap. He proceeds to tell you about his lab accident, and how he became spliced with spider DNA.

He tells you about the multiverse, and how there are many versions of him out there with the same story, but his cursed him with the lower half of a mutant unlike most. 

"So, if there's a whole multiverse out there, are there multiple versions of myself too?" You lean your chin on your hand like a curious pupil. 

Miguel nods stiffly, trying to disguise the weight of the information he held. "Yeah. "

You go silent again, then you ask, "Did you know me in your own universe?"

Miguel's heart pangs subtly at the reminder. "Yeah, I did..." He looks away from you but you can't help but continue to stare at him. 

He really was so pleasant to look at. That brown, wavy hair that curled just slightly at the ends you could only imagine would run like silk between your fingers, eyes a hue of red that couldn't be replicated anywhere except the deep center of the rarest rose, lulling voice that dripped from those full lips. This formidableness about him that crumbled into gentleness only when it came to you did absolutely nothing but pull you closer to him. 

For the first time, those unconnected dots in that unanswered part of you in your dreams might be falling into place. 

"Was I quite close to you?" Your heart steadily begins to pick up. 

Miguel shook under his desire to just let the facade fall away and pull you into his arms. But he remained still as he looked back at you, silent plea from behind his words that was only articulated in those eyes that put bleeding sunsets to shame.

"You meant the world to me." 

The pieces coming together prompted these strong emotions you weren't expecting, coming out in broken tears. "So that's why you found me..." You shook your head. 

Miguel's heart tugs outside of his chest. He stands up, drawing closer, then his legs folded as he leaned in to where you sat on the couch. When you didn't pull away, he got the courage to cup your face in both his hands, gently wiping the wetness away. 

"Why didn't you come get me sooner?" It clicks at that very moment. That tender gaze that graced you now could not belong to anyone other than your starcrossed beloved who visited every time you closed your eyes. 

"I wanted to." Miguel must suppress his own tears at this point. Oh how he wanted to, how he ached to.

"Believe me, I really did, mi vida.." 

His term of endearment for you just encourages you to liquify under his touch even more. "But why didn't you?? I was so miserable. I waited for you. I thought you weren't real. Thought you were never coming..." 

"I know, I know." Miguel closed his eyes when your foreheads met at last. This feeling of touching you for the first time elated him, shedded him of his internal torment. He felt like he was soaring.

"You were married and I was..." He sighs deeply, pulling away just a little, "I was... well, me." 

"What do you mean by that?" You furrow your brows, your heart panged by hurt, trying to understand why. Why he deprived himself of this thing you both clearly wanted when it was right there. 

"Nobody as beautiful as you would ever love someone who looks like me.." 

A pit falls to the bottom of your stomach and you immediately shake your head. "No...no, that couldn't be further from the truth, Miguel..." 

You sit up, leaning in as you took his face in your hands again. His eyes went wide in disbelief. "W-what are you..." 

A million chills erupt in Miguel's body that become embers of warmth as your lips touch for the first time. He holds his breath, then sighs. The little break in between the kiss and the low, gentle sound coming from him just encourages you to meet him again, and again. 

Your fingers wind their way into his hair and his own hands couldn't do anything but pull you even closer as the kiss deepened under the weight of the burning passion. The longing was set free, a million questions answered that just kept confirming to Miguel over and over that this couldn't be more right.  Canon be damned, rules be damned as your lips and your hands became a slow dance of sensual exploration. 

"Miguel..." 

"Please I-mnghhh..." He pleads then relents immediately as he lets his head roll gently back, allowing you to continue blazing tantalizing trails of kisses all over his neck. Because of the size difference between you both, he scoops you into his arms off the couch. He can't help but indulge the feeling of your body pressed against his, using his grip on your thighs to grind you ever so lightly against his abdomen. 

The pressure delivered from the press of his body shoots directly to your core and you shamelessly take that as permission to roll your hips slightly as you straddled him, releasing that first moan into his mouth when your lips came back up from exploring the warmth of his neck. 

That delicious little sound you make nearly wrecks him in the best way. Miguel moans equally louder as his kisses dial up in intensity. His teeth begin nipping intermittently as the kiss morphs into a passionate exchange of saliva and collision of lips on lips. The potent venom laced in his fangs pools with the building zeal and it seeps into your mouth, leaving sweet aftertaste whose foreignness only fuels your arousal. 

An enormous thud echoes as Miguel falls backwards, but it does absolutely nothing to deter the flame lit under you. You both find a comfortable rhythm as his hands guide your hips as you ride his large spider abdomen while your makeout session riled with fervor. The coarse bristly hairs were a delicious addition to the addicting friction with each slow roll of your body. Miguel's lips fall open and his eyes falter. You relish this feeling of power over him, this enormous drider who all but became a weak weak man when he was underneath you. 

You bite your lip as each heavenly movement inspires you to leave all shame at the door and start to put on a show. You card your fingers in your hair, moving it in your eyes in erotic display, groaning as you rolled your head every which way in careless abandon, letting your fingers dip in your mouth, squeezing your breasts. 

"Fuckkk me..." Miguel breathes out. "Fuck me, you're so...God, you're so beautiful..." He hands continue to knead the swell of your ass, gritting his teeth as his grip locks down even harder and he feels you humping directly over his slit where his phallus was hardening underneath the ocean of fur to the point of ache. 

His hands then move to play with your breasts, your eyes widened when the spot on your hips is quickly replaced with two of his smaller forelegs, one of them teasing the waistband of your pants as his human hands quickly unclasped your bra. 

"Miguellll...." You mewl as one of his forelegs holds your hip steady while the other works little circles through your clothed clit, all while you felt his warm, wet tongue flatten and tease your left nipple. All you can do at this point is moan and let him wreck you completely, this pleasure that was smoldering you from all sides. 

You gazed down, amazed and aroused to discover that the lower half attached to this beautiful man you were tangled in only fueled the desire, this taboo. Knowing fully well that he was capable of bloodshed, but for now he only wanted to fuck you. You grinded harder against him, answering his soft ministrations of your clit with eager gyrations of your hips. 

"Me vas a terminar matando..."(You'll end up killing me) He weakly chuckled, "So, so perfect..."

Miguel is intoxicated by your breasts, circulating and squeezing them together, while his lips dribbled and slobbered as he sucked them both greedily into his mouth in messy alteration.

Soon both round globes were coated in a dripping sheen of his venom, working the thickening syrup in sloppy circles over both nipples that tingled and numbed you so deliciously along with the teasing circles of his thumbs that it made your back arch to the heavens. 

He leaned back momentarily to admire his handiwork, lower jaw shiny with a mixture of venom and spit, a steamy yet filthy display of his subtle ownership he now felt over you. 

His. 

His rightful claim when he snapped your sorry ass excuse of a husband like a twig. Each little noise you made all for him only swelling his pride and confirming his suspicion that the loser couldn't make you cum like he could. 

Speaking of cumming, you were damn near close. Miguel doesn't want to be greedy and would love to let his sweet little darling cream and squirt all over his stomach right now, but the thought was more appealing for this first time being on his tongue or, if you were up for it, his drider cock. 

"I wanna cum, Miguel, please I wanna cum..." You whined, temporarily losing that sweet spot as he removed his forelegs from their massage on your clit. 

"I know baby, I'm gonna make you cum..." He kissed you. "You'll cum for me. Many times, I'll make sure of it..." He panted, moving a finger underneath your chin. "How do you feel about taking my cock?" 

The straightforward nature of his question answered itself in the further dampening spot in your panties. "Please...Y-yes pleaseee, Miguel. Want you to fuck me...want you to give me your cock..." 

"Yeah?" He groaned, hands slinking all up and down your body, under your clothes, stroking your breasts. "I'll give it to you then, baby...fill you up so good..." 

He paused then kissed you deeply once more. "You're gonna have to trust me... We'll have to try something different so this can work..." 

You nodded. "I trust you, Miguel." 

"Okay..." He whispered. "You're still okay with this?" 

"Yes, I'm okay..." You breathed back. "I'm okay, baby. I want you so badly. I'm willing to try anything so you can be so deep inside of me..." 

"Fuck, me too..." He groaned back against your lips. "Okay, hold on f'me..." 

He set you back down on the couch and you were floored as you watched your beloved turn into an artist, spinning an elaborate web that stretched from floor to ceiling, almost like a swing that was anchored solidly on both sides to the wall. 

"Mi vida..." He offers you his hand like a gentleman, helping you up. "Can I?" He whispers as his hands disappear underneath your clothes. 

"Yes..." 

He strips you carefully and slowly like fine china, letting the anticipation build as every patch of skin slowly became revealed to him. 

Somehow letting him undress you, sliding the rest of your panties off and simply letting his eyes roam freely all over your body felt like the most intimate thing you had done all night, even more so as he still remained fully clothed in his top half as he stood back and drunk in the sight of you like wine. 

"You're simply stunning, love..." 

His hands ghosted low on your hips until they rested on the bare curve of your ass. You jumped and wrapped your thighs around him, Miguel tensed his jaw with a smirk as he kneaded the plump flesh of your ass, hardening again when he felt your bare slick he drew out of your pussy earlier against his stomach. 

He nestled you into the makeshift swing that was soft and sticky as the fibers clung to your bare skin in a natural adhesive. He spun more webs around your ankles, opening them slightly. 

"Is this still okay?" He asked gently again. 

Exhilaration washed over you but you nodded, grinning and easing your legs open in further tease to demonstrate your own building excitement for what was to come. "Yes..." 

"Good." His voice went halfway between a groan again at your pretty pussy blossoming like a flower in front of him. 

He stood back, eyes cloudy and trained on you as he removed his shirt, letting it fall in a quiet heap to the ground. 

You drank him in as well like an offering, moaning audibly when the slit in his fur low on his abdomen opened to reveal a long, thick, hard red cock with pulsating black veins adorning both sides. It curved upwards, and it throbbed, making your mouth water. 

This only made the full sight of your monstrous lover even more alluring as he stood before you in all his drider glory, towering over you even now when you were closer to his eye level in your makeshift swing, with your thighs spread and your silky cunt begging to be filled. 

He shot a web onto your belly, pulling you in closer while you still sat settled on the swing, giggling as he smirked playfully at you, until just the tip of his cock kissed between your folds. 

"Hi there..." You chuckled, tilting your head up, wetting your lips seductively. 

He groaned quietly in a stew of lust as he saw your tongue rake over your bottom lip, 

"Hello, sweetheart...fucking gorgeous thing, you..."

He gently pinched both sides of your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, immediately bringing you into a deep french kiss. 

The feeling of his warm tongue sliding in your mouth shot directly down to your cunt, only amping up in electricity as he teased his plump girthy head of his cock all around your pulsing clit. 

"Miguel....fuck me..." Your spine arched and your nails dug into his shoulder, aggravating the raging arousal he was simmering for you all over his body. "Don't tease me like this, baby..." 

Miguel released a mischievous chuckle that tapered into another one of his low moans that goaded you even deeper into all this pent up frustration you wish he'd take out on your now sopping pussy already.

"Ten paciencia, mi vida, por favor... " (Be patient, my life, please) He cooed sweetly at you, lightly brushing his nose against yours "Gotta get you nice and ready to take me..." 

You breath became choked in your lungs when he begins to massage the fat tip directly over your velvety clit, grunting as he felt another drip of arousal leak and coat all along the thick head. 

"Besides..." He murmured heavily though soft parted lips, entranced with hooded eyes. "The more I edge you, the more pleasureable it'll be when I finally make you cum all over my cock..."

"Baby, please..." The crescendo of arousal swelled in your belly, making your eyes water. You coaxed your body against him faster, desperate to reach that peak, but your movements were minimal due to the webbing. The feeling of emptiness covered you but was quickly eased when he promptly removed his tip from your clit again, this time dragging it down to your dripping entrance. 

"Kiss me..." Miguel murmured and he didn't need to tell you twice. His tongue rolled and rubbed with yours as he began to circle his cock into your wet opening, inch by inch filling you ever so slowly. You gasp into his mouth, realizing this whole time what he was talking about. You felt every rigid vein, every solid groove as his drider cock slowly pushed into you, stretching you beyond comprehension. It was unlike any you've ever taken before. Fuck, it felt better than any you'd ever taken before. 

Once you got past the daunting size, the addicting feeling and pleasure of having his cock inside you set off a new chorus of breathy moans from your lips. You sighed deliciously as you greedily accepted everything he was giving you, so transfixed on his divine face that was watching you the entire time. 

Miguel was irrevocably smitten, completely enamored with the way your warm silky walls wrapped around him, the way you looked at him with immense rapture. Fuck, this feeling was greater than anything he felt in his entire life as your pussy molded to him like it was made for him. "So tight, cariño..." He teased then hissed as he reached the hilt. 

You two gazed at each other, completely silent for what felt like divine eternity. Simply enjoying the feeling of Miguel being buried so deeply inside you. 

"I'm gonna start fucking you..." He whispered. 

"Go slow at first, baby..." You purred back, clenching your pussy around him, biting your lip when it earned another weak grunt from him. "Wanna feel you nice and deep like this for a bit..." 

"Haah...you're a goddamn tease..." Miguel huffed. "I'll try and go slow as long as I can..." The sound that came from him next was downright pathetic as he looked down at where he had you stuffed to the brim, feeling along the emerging bulge in your belly. 

"You feel so fucking good, it's hard not to just fucking ravish you right now..." 

"Mmm...just kiss me, then..." You murmured and he quickly seized onto that opportunity as he slowly began to pump inside you with lengthy, meaningful thrusts. Every movement was so wet and sloppy with drenched noises as a sea of slick began to drool from your pussy, coating his cock that slid in and out of you with greater ease as the moments passed. 

You squeezed your thighs in a death grip around his large waist as you became more hammered off this euphoria, the bristly hairs tickling the sensitive sides along your clit, goading you to grind back into each deep thrust. 

"Shit..." And Miguel's patience flew out the door with that lethal squeeze of your thighs, his hands gripped the curve of your ass as he began to completely unload on your needy wet cunt. You cried out as you took every torturous inch like the absolute whore you were for him in this moment.

It tested your limits but God, this feeling of him thoroughly fucking you nice and hard scratched that nagging, primal itch you experienced ever since you first laid eyes on him. You were practically drooling at this point, laying back and taking it, your submission just fueling his fire, unlocking that deep seated urge to fucking breed this perfect cunt for all it was worth, to ruin you and fuck your brains out so you could feel him for weeks. 

"Miguel, Miguel, Miguellllll....." The hungry, wispy mantra of his name from your lips nearly set him off the edge alone, a raw possession washing over him completely as he railed his cock into you to new limits. 

"You're all mine now, you know that..." 

"I'm all yours Miguel...all yours baby..." 

He cut you off with another fiery kiss. "Wanna cum inside you, baby, can I?" 

"Fffuck yes....yes, Miguel, fill me..." 

"I'll fill you up, baby..." His forelegs come up again, but this time one directly rubbing quick, vibrating circles on your clit, while one gently teased and massaged  the puckered rim of your ass, all while his heavy slick covered cock continued to pound your pussy. "But you're gonna cum f'me first..." 

"Miguel..." 

You nearly black out as you see heaven. Miguel locks in, dipping his head down as he swallowed onto your left breast again, tweaking and tugging the nipple of the right, his mouth salivating and more venom dousing and dripping from his tongue, soaking down your already sweaty body. 

The web renders you helpless as you have no option but to lay there and let him pleasure you past anything you thought you could handle. It felt like overstimulation as you shook and cowered and whined so loudly it could wake the neighbors. 

Your thighs trembled, tears leaking out of the corner of your eyes as you forced yourself to let go. The premature ending of all the previous other treatments he bestowed on your spent pussy piled on top of one another, making this one far more intense and overwhelming than the others. Thick cream oozed lewdly out of you, making a sticky, glossy mess of both your pubes and coating his black fur. 

"Cumming, sweetheart..." He panted, dripping sweat all down his reddened face, some of it landing in your mouth but you could care less. Everything about this encounter was so dirty and nasty already. The salacious feeling of consuming every part of one another from head to toe reduced you to nothing but a hole for him to dump his cum in, and you'd let him every time. 

"I-love-you...." 

And his heavy sweaty shaft and bulbous tip nudged your g spot simultaneously as his foreleg's massage of your swollen clit that your orgasm shuddered and rattled your bones, a new sinful coat of wetness squirting and seeping into Miguel's black fur that he soaked in like a badge of honor. 

He forgot to warn you before, but when the coil in his balls finally released and he came inside you, the thick, viscous drider cum was like lava as it spilled and drooled and leaked from your insides. Even after you thought he had emptied, another spurt of a thick rope of cum painted your drenched walls and flooded out of you. 

You both merely panted, eyes locked on each other in a display of intimacy of the deepest and most carnal kind, the overwhelming haze of orgasmic bliss made you both speechless. It almost didn't compute that he told you he loved you. 

You laid there in your spiderweb tangled underneath your drider lover in the now fully emerged daytime, world outside none the wiser of the steamy, lewd acts that took place. All the more enthralling that this became a love nest built on top of your blood lust and mutual yearning that exploded like gasoline on a fire. 

For now, real life could wait as you came back down to Earth and gazed at the flood of slick cum dripping and oozing from both of you. You felt that primal urge kick up again as Miguel smirked, softly stuffing the mess of what he could back inside the pool of glistening white that peeked between your aching folds. 

"And I love you too, Miguel.." You whispered back.

All the puzzle pieces of his scattered life fell back into place as he heard those glorious words hit him like a train. He willed this himself. Even if it meant taking you from another dimension, this thread across time, this inevitable bond was now cemented permanently with your lovemaking and the deepest parts of him that were now inside you. 

He could deal with all that bullshit later; he had his love back with him where she rightfully belonged.

You both laughed to yourselves as you sauntered down this path of mutual bliss and made a plan to leave all this behind and start a new life with your Drider lover in his reality. 

But first...you couldn't help but pull him closer and he couldn't help but groan loudly as he effortlessly slipped inside you again,

"It's you and me against the stars, mi vida..." 

And he groaned before rhythmically moving his body in that sinful dance with yours, 

"But first I'm gonna prove it by fucking you all over again." 

---

[dreameryfics]

JJ MAYBANK x READER

Summary: JJ takes revenge after your accident

Warning: mentions of blood

JJ and I had decided to go on a date, realizing we hadn't been on one since we got back to the island. We were going to a nice restaurant, not Kook nice, but nice. I was wearing a blush floral dress with bows on the straps and JJ was in a nice sage button-up. He was wearing his normal cargo shorts and boots, realizing he didn't have anything nicer, but we didn't care. We just wanted to be together.

We took the Twinkie, not wanting to walk all the way into town since the weather was supposed to get bad later. I was sitting in the passenger seat and JJ was driving. He had ahold of my hand, rubbing his thumb along the back of it. "I love you," he tells me, placing a kiss on my hand. I look over at him and smile, "I love you too, J." I look back at the road and within a second, I feel the weight of the door crash into me. The Twinkie flips to its side before coming to a halt in the middle of the intersection.

I feel the blood dripping down the side of my face and my head is in agonizing pain as I glance over to a bleeding JJ. He's not moving. I try to move and scream out in pain. I can't feel my leg and see it's pinned by a piece of the door that broke off. I take a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself. I could hear people trying to break the windshield. I recognized one of them and started to yell out. I was slowly losing energy, feeling my body give way to the pain I was in. I look back over to JJ, who is still unconscious before everything goes black.

It had been three weeks since the accident. I was released the first week, but I've been there every single day since visiting. The Pogues are trying to be supportive and keep a positive mindset about it, but I just can't wrap my head around it. Everything was working, the business was doing great, nobody was in trouble or being chased, we were all happy. Within one single moment, everything changed. All it took was one asshole who thought he could drive drunk to ruin it all. As I sat in the hospital chair, I couldn't stop thinking about what I could've done to change what is happening now.

"Hey, you ready to go?" John B asks, standing in the doorway of the hospital room. I don't say anything and he comes over to me and places a hand on my shoulder, "She'll wake up JJ," he says with a hint of pain in his voice, "she has to." I place my hand on his, letting him know I hear him, it's just difficult to feel that way. "What's that stupid thing you always say? You can't what?"

"You can't kill a Pogue," I reply with a chuckle that was immediately met with tears in my eyes. I know he's trying to help, but I just can't see past the fact that she's not awake yet and the doctors aren't sure when she will wake up. The trial for the person who hit us was today and I told her I wouldn't miss it, I would be there to see justice for her. "I'll be right out," I told John B. He pats me on the shoulder before walking out of the room.

"I'll come back and tell you all about what happened," I took hold of her hand, "I just need you to wake up for me. Okay, princess?" She's been in a coma since the accident, her injuries being too much for her body to handle. Her face was littered with cuts and bruises, but it didn't take away any of her beauty. They almost lost her. I woke up not soon after the accident and they were doing CPR on her, I tried to get to her, but I couldn't. They had me strapped down to the gurney, my neck in a brace. They were loading me into the ambulance when she finally came out of it. As soon as I knew she was alright, I passed out from the pain. I woke up later in a hospital bed and was released three days later. I had minimal injuries, she took the brunt of it all.

"If I could go back to that day, I would switch places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you were here right now. This world needs you in it," I tell her, hoping and praying she'll hear me, "you're too bright of a light to just be gone. I need you to fight for me, for all of us. The Pogues won't be the same without you." I look up at her, wanting nothing more than for her to open her beautiful eyes. I feel a tear drop onto my hand. I'm not even sure if I believe she can hear me, but I need her to. "I'll be back later, I love you so damn much. If you can hear anything, hear that." I stand up and place a kiss on her forehead before slowly walking out the door, taking one last look at her before I leave.

John B met me at the end of the hallway and we walked outside. The rest of the group was in an old junker we found. The Twinkie was totaled and we got a good enough deal on this van. Everybody was waiting for me, I could see the sadness in their faces. "Let's go see this asshole get what he deserves." I clap my hands at them before jumping in the van and closing the door. I've been looking forward to this day, the day Rafe is found guilty.

We quickly drove to the courthouse, seeing the place filling up fast. Everybody loves her on this island, they all want to see justice served. As we walk in and take our seats, I can't help but notice all the sad faces pointed towards us. The Kooks aren't even looking our way as they sit behind Rafe. I'm sitting in the front, and I can't help but send glares Rafe's way.

The trial took a little over five hours and I started to have a bad feeling about it. It happened too fast I thought, I could see the worry on Pope's face and that told me all I needed to know. This wasn't going the way we wanted. It wasn't long before the Judge came out and announced to everybody that Rafe was found not guilty on all charges. The entire courthouse erupted into people yelling. I couldn't focus on anything, all I saw was red. I slowly got up and looked at Rafe, wanting nothing but to kill him. He got away with it, he had to have paid people off or threatened them. He gave me a small smirk and I went to charge at him, but Kie beat me to the punch; literally. She took one swing at him before the entire room erupted into chaos.

I slowly walked to the back of the courthouse, ignoring all the fights happening around me. I turned the corner and grabbed a chair before throwing it through the window. I turned around and saw one of the officers heading my way, trying to tackle me but not before I punched him, knocking him to the floor. I started to run out the door but was quickly pulled back by a hand on my shoulder. I turned around and saw Shoupe holding me back. I thought I was done at that moment, until someone slammed a chair into his back, causing him to crumple to the floor. I ran out of there as quickly as I could.

I couldn't think straight, all I could do was run. I left everybody at the courthouse. She could die and he's getting away with it. This town is letting him get away with it I thought. It wasn't long before I was downtown, surrounded by all the Kook businesses. I let out a small chuckle before picking up a bat that was sitting next to someone's bike. I swung it around a few times before I let all that rage out.

I took the bat a swung it as hard as I could into the window of a car, causing the lights and horn to go off. "Why stop there?" I said to myself as I moved down the sidewalk. I took a swing at the electrical board on a street light causing it to spark and set fire to the trashcans below it. I looked down the sidewalk at all the clean windows. I stood in front of one before swinging the bat, the window shattering from the force. I broke every window along the sidewalk, everyone meeting me with an alarm.

I could see the lights coming from around the corner and ran. I had to get back to her. I ran until I came to the hospital entrance. I threw the bat into the bushes next to me before walking in. "Hey JJ," one of the nurses said to me as I walked in, "I'll get you checked in." I nodded my head at her. As I came to her door, I took a few deep breaths, trying to calm myself down and make it seem like I didn't just run across town. It's not like she can see me I thought.

I walked through the door and looked over. My eyes filled with tears as I looked at her.

"Hey J."

[daretoassume]

Hello , I hope you see this.

I might be a bit desperate.

So 2 years ago I wanted to kill myself but then I had a huge “spiritual awakening” where I say things beyond human comprehension. And from that moment I decided to give life a chance, I knew that life actually had a meaning and that was for me to discover what was beyond what I could think. It gave my so much clarity of the world around me and who I was. From that moment I also started to randomly consciously manifest things without knowing about manifesting. I’m not kidding when I say this but in that time I manifested 6 million overnight while I was just kidding about being a millionaire while listening to my rich music and then when I woke up my parents had the good news. I also manifested others things that I thought where extremely special. But I didn’t really put in effort it was just fun experimenting with my powers.

So then I decided to deepen myself in the laws. I started with law of attraction. And I ended up meditating so deeply everyday that I was so passionate about finding the ultimate truth of reality inside me, that I was extremely depersonalised from my 3D and basically lived inside my brain. I could ask things and receive answers on my questions, like the one time i asked how to invent something that could end humanity ( I still have a full doc on how to build to most effective machine that could end humanity in less than second) I also got the answer of questions about reality and my vessel. So that’s when I realised there was nothing but me. And that I was experiencing myself from the experience of myself ( if that makes sense!) I found that there really was nothing and everything at once while I was giving meaning to it. So that’s when I started with extreme anxiety and depression because I struggled so much with intrusive thoughts, not being able to ground myself in this reality and being so so scared of my thoughts. Still to this day my thoughts scare me so much that I can’t help but experience anything other than fear from myself. It’s like I’m living in a constant nightmare. I have watched so much law of assumption post and videos dedicating every second of my day on being focused and disciplined to affirming and being in the state of having what I want, but it makes me so fuckiyn angry and I don’t know why. Everytime I see a post I feel depressed because deep down I know everything but everyday I wake up in the same reality where everything fucking sucks ( I have been forcing myself to be kind self love gratitude letting go void state visualisation whatever exist I’ve done it all) and when I finally have build up that trust that everything is working out in my highest favour and I always get what I want and the 3D can’t tell me nothing yk I can delude myself into knowing I have it but it’s been over a year and I just can’t bear this reality anymore I know I’m meant for another reality and there’s just nothing for me to find here anymore. And I really don’t know what to do anymore I feel like I’m stuck in this reality where everything seems to get worse. And my thoughts are also getting worded everyday for the last year but whenever I tried manifesting a better self concept mindset etc it got worse when i don’t even want to be the person that is in conflict with themsef because that’s just a idiotic thing to do. But can you help me out?🫶

what you experienced, everything that you learned, was so profound. it is truly a gift to have such insight, so treat it as such. try to examine why it scares you so deeply. there is something within that fear that is asking to be understood.

you have seen how effortlessly you created before, simply by being playful and detached. you were experimenting, having fun with it, and not placing too much importance on the outcome. that is why there was no resistance. things flowed into your reality flawlessly. you already understand the law. you know how to apply it to your life. you do not need another blog post or video to teach you what you already know.

what you need now is to go deeper within yourself, to truly understand why you feel this way. these feelings are not here to torment you but to guide you toward something deeper. perhaps there is a message waiting for you, something significant you need to uncover, or even a realization that you are meant to share with others. your emotions, no matter how overwhelming, are part of your journey. they may be pointing you toward a greater understanding of yourself and your purpose.

if you feel an inner pull to create something meaningful, to express yourself, or to pursue something that sparks joy, do not ignore it. act on it. even if it feels small or insignificant at first, do it. follow what excites you, even in the simplest of ways.

i know it’s easier said than done, especially when it feels like the weight of the world is on your shoulders. but remember, we both know the truth—what we focus on expands. even a small shift in focus toward what you prefer can create change. we often feel so much these days that we forget to acknowledge what we can be grateful for. take a moment and ask yourself: what are you truly grateful for right now? your family, your friends? doesn’t it bring you some happiness to know you’ve learned so much already? i am not saying you are ungrateful. i am suggesting that maybe starting with gratitude, even in the smallest way, could help shift your attention, even just a little.

as you take time for introspection to truly understand what is behind these emotions and why you feel the way you do, you might also set some goals for yourself. try doing something that excites you, even if it’s small. i know this reality can feel limiting, and maybe that’s why you feel like you don’t belong here. but if you see it as a curse, then that’s the experience you will live out.

what if you see it as an opportunity to discover something profound within yourself? what if the very limitations you feel are only reflections of the state you’re currently in, waiting for you to shift?

you don't have to force yourself to change everything all at once. just start small, day by day.

you already know how powerful you are.

[hollowsart]

Thaal Sinestro of Korugar

-cracks knuckles-

Here's ALL of his lore that I cooked up:

(warning for: the sheer ungodly length of this, mentions of death, and a low-key humorous mention of alien physiology at the end cuz I couldn't help myself--)

(Some of this might still be a slight work in progress and/or may be subject to change later on. I'm not sure yet.)

-----

Backstory:

It wasn’t supposed to end that way. He wanted her to be safe and far away from the threat of action. Unfortunately.. he had made a mistake and it cost him greatly. Both heart and mind.

The loss of his wife.. the loss of his best friend, Abin Sur’s sister.. it caused quite the disruption in their friendship.

Some time well after that horrible event, Sinestro and Abin got into an altercation. An argument while out on duty. Abin had heard of Sinestro’s plans, but he didn’t agree with them. Both men were already still rocky and broken from the loss of Arin. So, when Sinestro was plotting some way of utilizing his GL powers to enforce order and protection.. no matter how unreasonable. Abin Sur lashed out. Calling him crazy, delusional, that nothing will ever bring her back.

Sinestro.. well.. he wasn’t thinking and without any ill intention.. he attacked Abin Sur. He only wanted to try and reason with him. He didn’t mean to do it.. but a stray blast from his ring managed to wreck the ship they were traveling in.. and the blast severely damaged Abin Sur.

..Sinestro fled the ship in horror, not seeing the fate of his friend as the ship hurtled down to a particular blue planet. The thought of having presumably killed his own partner and friend on top of having already dealt with the loss of his wife.. well.

That absolutely destroyed him. Shattered him so deeply.. he’s grown distant. Disconnected and apathetic. Bottling up, locking away, and throwing the key away with his emotions..

This was the beginning of the end of his GL career.. and the lead up to him being picked up by the Yellow Corps. The immense fear and angst building up inside him being strong enough he found a new life with the Yellow Lanterns. However, he couldn’t take the life and went rogue. Taking the ring with him and starting his own little sect.

----

imagine. some late series episode that ends with a little close up of some guy who looks a bit like Vincent Price for some reason lowering his newspaper and staring in Guy & Feste's direction as they head back home for the day after having a chat at some outdoor cafe.

you don't know who this weird guy is until it's later revealed that it was Sinestro. He ALSO used his ring to go incognito and appear human so as not to attract any attention while he "stalks" Guy & Feste for some reason idk I didn't think this far.

---

it kinda adds weight to the act of killing him. but like.. it probably killed Sinestro, too.. to do it. maybe it was an accident..? unintentional… during a fight.. and Sinestro was hiding it. and although Guy reminds him of Abin Sur… he hates Guy because he reminds him of Abin Sur and what he did to him. like a weird sort of "reincarnation" thing?? if that makes sense??

Guy being so angry at Sinestro for what he did feels almost cathartic for Sinestro cuz he knows he deserves it.

---

Sinestro sees occasional visions of his wife and friend begging and pleading for his help that will never come. This fuels his fear to power his ring. he needs fear to wield it. and that is a big fear. the repetitive action of losing his wife and friend and not being able to do anything about it.

---

Miscellaneous:

Soranik Natu was given the Natu surname as she was raised by another family. whether on Ungara or Korugar is undecided, but she does keep it.

Sinestro was unable to continue raising her as he was in no condition to do so, and Arin was.. well. out of the picture.

Sinestro sees Soranik and hears her name and he knows that's his daughter and he feels sick. She looks like her mother, he can see it. There's the underlying fear of what she may think of him and how much she may take after him. He is very aware of the terrible things he has done but he is blinded, in a sense, thinking what he is doing is for the greater good. to protect people..

To protect Soranik.

From a fate that fell upon Arin Sur and many others.

---

Soranik is like a combination of the two. her horns are smaller and so are her ears. she has tiny "tusks" (fangs?) compared to her mom.

but she also has elements similar to her dad.

also I can't help but think about Sinestro saying he wishes for his daughter to not become like him, but to instead become more like her mother. honor her memory. it's a terrible loss for the universe for someone like Arin Sur to no longer be in it..

---

I 100% want there to be a moment in an episode where Sinestro's backstory is revealed. like… his life he had up to when Guy first met him. We get to see just how tragic his backstory is.

There's been some subtle little hints here and there before, like someone from on Oa hearing Guy make a remark about Sinestro's weird earring and they tell him what they know.. how it's actually something very meaningful, a combination of two races and their culture. how it is a show of respect and mourning..

the mourning rituals of both Ungarans and Korugarians came together when Sinestro lost Arin. The piercings worn by those who lost a partner from Korugar.. and the wearing of a specific flora from Ungara..

Sinestro's mournful earring has a unique flora depicted hanging from it. A custom metal made to resemble that flora from Ungara.. to honor the memory of Arin Sur. He wears it always except when bathing or resting, but he keeps it with him ever so close at all times.

Should he lose that earring at all… well…

we might just see Sinestro become a Red Lantern.

---

I do kinda like the idea that Ungara and Korugar are relatively close planets with their own races inhabiting them. and because of this, the two races are uniquely compatible, genetically speaking, which leads to how Soranik Natu was born at all when Thaal Sinestro got with Abin Sur's sister, Arin Sur. Sinestro & Arin were the first ones to discover this.

Also, Ungarans are taller than Korugarians. Soranik stands a little taller than Sinestro.

Sinestro is 5'5" (average)

Soranik is 5'9"

Arin & Abin Sur: 6'6" 6'8" (average)

---

(Warning for alien physiology talk & humor)

what if Sinestro has never seen a human before and the first time he sees Guy shirtless in the Oa locker room he notices Guy only has 2 n1ps and Sinestro is like:

"Only 2? However will you feed all your young? Surely they should starve with such a lack of bodily provisions."

And Guy stands there extremely confused. Asks him what in the ever-loving heck he's talking about. Sinestro responds by merely removing his own clothes and presents his 8 n1ps.

Guy is understandably disturbed by the implications now registering in his mind.

If Guy ever mentions pregnancy, Sinestro responds "The women carry the young and the men provide for the young. ..What does your kind do? Don't tell me the women do all the work and that you're utterly useless? You humans are quite the odd creature."

Guy is very much offended.

[tossawary]

Brushing off some of our older gaming stuff to finally play "The Force Unleashed" (do not spoil it for me) and found myself immediately compelled by this presentation of what Luke Skywalker's life might have been like as "Darth Vader's son". (Or Leia's life, of course.)

Like, obviously, Darth Vader would not (and will not, I presume) have the same degree of attachment to his assassin here as he would/will to Luke, but the parallels are immediate and not subtle. Vader has killed a LOT of Jedi children by this point, but he sees a child powerful in the Force holding his own red lightsaber and something in him apparently snaps. And in the similar circumstances of 1) raised in secret away from the Emperor, and 2) trained to be a weapon against the Emperor, I suspect that Luke would actually have had a very similar quality of life to Starkiller (slightly better overall perhaps, but still similar), because I highly doubt that Sith Lord Darth Vader, who is held together by rage and spite, who is super traumatized by war and haaaaates being confronted by his own mistakes, would have ended up being even a half-decent parent if permitted to actually raise Luke as a Sith apprentice.

I was reminded of these games because I saw someone talking about how Galen Marek (protagonist of "The Force Unleashed") and Mara Jade (Luke's love interest from the Extended Universe) have very similar backstories and arcs, though they felt Galen's was better executed. So, I started up this game wondering to myself, "How old is Galen compared to Luke? A romance between Luke and his father's assassin / apprentice seems compelling... At worst, I bet it's comparable to the age difference between Luke and Din..." And yep! It looks similar and could also be fewer years than that. Galen could be 19 in this game for all I know.

I'm already enjoying an AU premise where Darth Vader somehow finds and captures younger teenage Luke, but he's panicking because 1) his son already hates him for injuring or even killing Obi-Wan (let's say that Owen and Beru are spared somehow, and also already calling up the Rebellion to fight the Empire to get their nephew back), and 2) Vader reeeeeally doesn't want the Emperor to find out about his son. But he doesn't really have a convenient place to stash his secret son! Palpatine is already calling demanding to know why Vader hasn't already completed some urgent imperial business.

So, Vader has to call his Ventress-in-training, Agent Starkiller, who happens to be nearby, to temporarily take Luke into custody. Vader says that no harm is to befall Luke and if he dies, then so does Starkiller, before he has to run off to answer the suspicious Emperor. Galen is, like, maybe 18 or something. (Ahsoka was kicking ass and getting traumatized on the battlefield at 14ish, so I assume that Galen's childhood under Vader was demanding and terrible.) This Sith teenager wants to be doing cool shit to prove himself, not shoved into a Bodyguard AU with some whiny brat who bites and has way too much of Darth Vader's attention already.

Cue some adventure that causes Luke and Galen to bond somehow. I'm not thinking about anything romantic at this point, I'm mostly thinking about angst, as Darth Vader tries to train Luke as a Sith apprentice through brutally cruel methods. Which give both Luke and Galen a lot of intense and complicated feelings about their own and each other's situations. And probably culminates in Darth Vader being shocked and angry when his son and not-son have run off and unionized against him.

The earlier that Vader nabs Luke, the longer you can shove him and Galen together. I'm leaning more towards a "The Worst Summer Teenage Romance Ever (During Sith Apprentice Boot Camp)" setup, even if it means bending the ages around a little, but I think that a "Childhood Friendship Forged Through Trauma And Desperation For Affection While Being Raised By A Sith Lord Who Is Playing Favorites" setup has great potential as well.

I like the potential humor of Luke initially being utterly unfamiliar with the Force and being unable to do anything with it, he doesn't even know how to lift a rock, while Video Game Protagonist Galen is like, "Okay, this soothes some of my terror about being replaced, but seriously, how are you this helpless??? You are like a Tooka kitten to me, what the hell is this???"

I also like the potential angst of Luke and Galen being forcibly separated somehow, so that Luke can escape and meet up with the likes of Han Solo and Princess Leia somehow, and he's all sad because the guy he liked is probably dead or else hates him. And then I like the potential humor of Galen showing up again as a real freak of nature, a human hurricane, just throwing everything around with the Force, waving a red lightsaber around. Luke has hearts in his eyes, while Han is like, "So, uh, this is the dead boyfriend, huh? Yikes."

[ganondoodle]

honestly i dont know how many times i can keep trying to like and engage with things if they always end up disappointing me so badly i cant like what came before it anymore

im not trying to center this around me or something, but im having a hard time coping with arcane doing it too (to me)

few things can catch my attention and all interests in media i have ever had fumbled everything later so badly i often never want to see or think about it again

its happened with transformers (prime specifically, i think the ending of season2? i dont remember everything but after the fucking new guys show up and it killed my hyperfixation on it back in the day), one piece (stopped since whole cake island and anything new i see of it only makes it more clear i cant stand it anymore), zelda (ahah .. totk, fuck that game, basically killed my hyperfixation on the franchise and im only holding on for some projects and cool people i met through it), (edit; how could i forget fromsoft/elden ring and what the DLC did.....), arcane/league (arcane, lore retcons, and now its ending, but it happened before it turned into a hyperfixation so theres that bit of mercy lol) and those were only my super special hyperfixation ones i still clearly remember im sure im forgetting some, its happened with movies and other series i gave a try too (even mob psycho ... the series i thought couldnt disappoint me ...)

i feel so bad about it, i feel like i am somehow wrong to dislike or even hate how media goes, and bc it happens every time i feel like .. theres something wrong with me .. theres gotta be soemthing wrong with me right?.. i SWEAR i do NOT find joy in hating or disliking things, it is not fun for me, i hate hating things, especially when i once loved them, even if it may seem like there is nothing i can ever like i am NOT doign it on purpose, i feel the same, i feel like theres nothing i can ever just like, and i hate myself for it .. but also cant help it, i cant force myself to like thingsi dont either, i just want to rip my hair out and cry

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Y-yeah..." Russell said, "Twins... they, they were the ones driving... they, they were all using code-code names... the, the gadget user. Shit, what, what was it? It, it, it, it was some kind of tool. I, I think. Began with, with an R, or, or maybe a W..."

Russell shook his head.

"Hopefully those, those will come back..."

"I will find a way to allow to get close without harm," Leofric said, "And I'm sure you will remember sooner rather than later."

Russell nodded.

"N-nope. He, he didn't. Seemed oddly interested in, in my chest though... said, said something had, had attacked me, asked who, who might have done it," Russell said, "I, I had no clue what he, what he was talking about. He, he mistook me, me for something too. A a mat-something... not that what he was doing would be, be okay even if, if I was."

But then he sighed.

"Sorry, Lucien. Not, not this time. He's, he's definitely gonna feel the, the blows I landed for, for a while though. I, I didn't hold back," Russell said, "But when, when I refused to tell him anything, he, he said I would have no, no choice. He was still real, real preoccupied with my chest, so he undid my, my arms and then cuffed my wrist to, to the chair to see, to see it better. Still don't, don't really know what, what he was thinking of. He didn't know I'm, I'm left handed, and that I had been listening to, to the clicks..."

He swallowed. His heart was pounding at the memory, just like it did in this moments.

"But then he, he turned his back to put his gloves after, after taking them off and that's when I very quietly got, got Lewis out. When he came back, I swung at his knees first. He, he didn't see it coming. Then I got myself uncuffed and swung at his hip and his arm with, with both hands. I, I just wanted him down so he, he couldn't chase me, and I, I wanted to get out of there before any, any of his goons realised something was wrong."

He rubbed at his arm briefly. He wasn't used to having to swear short sleeves.

"I, I remember in, in my panic, I yelled 'fuck you' at him a, a few times. My, my words were, were just mostly gone. It was just, just attack and shout."

Bill couldn't help but burst out laughing at that. He loved the image of Russell dropping some f strikes.

"But then I ran while he, he was down... I smelled burnt, burnt plastic just before I did, I don't know if it came from him or I, I broke one of the vials. But soon after running, I start feeling weird, and, and I must have passed out soon after."

Russell sighed then.

"I'm, I'm just sorry I, I didn't do more. It, it was cowardly of me to, to run away when, when I could have, could have gotten more, more payback for what he did to you, Lucien... but I knew I, I would have been outnumbered and, and I figured I wouldn't be much use if I had, I had stayed captured or, or injured, or he did decide to kill me after, after all. Escaping had, had been my priority."

Lucien promised himself to make up for demanding Russell gave up coffee for a few days in some way. He had brought along plenty of infusions he was happy to share, or he could cook something nice even though baking was off the table.

Many activities were, but Lucien still managed to get all the way there because he was fed up with not knowing. He hated not knowing who wanted him dead and he couldn't stand sitting at home while knowing Russell got targeted too. So it was no surprise it looked like he didn't want to miss a single detail even if the tension in his body wasn't going to do him any good.

None of which pleased Rook very much. "Oh, so he's got friends too. How cute."

"Did you catch any of their names?" Lucien asked.

"That'll be useless if we can't even get close." Rook snapped, "We'll have to catch them outside."

"He enjoys striking down the helpless ones." Lucien snapped, "I'm sure he didn't question your behavior at all. It was entirely too good to pass on that. Tell me you caved his skull in."

[bloomingtrans]

the worst part is knowing this is temporary — like one year at the very most — and i still feel like shooting myself when i think about being here even that long

[crustyfloor]

This scene of Till innocently peaceful with such a big smile feels incomplete to me after the events of round 7--But more true to his character rather than a comic with his final thoughts like Sua and Ivan had, it's cruel, brief, like a flashback, and it's bittersweet. Till is probably going to be reserved and ambiguous till the end. He wouldn't be able to bring himself to think about and reflect on his regrets and traumas; that's Till's principle; living in stubborn, childish beliefs, and in those truths, he finds escape into solace, even if it's unlike his reality, it's how he copes enough to make everything bearable for the next day to come. This image feels like a reflection, a memory of when he was happier in life. In Till's final moments, he thought about his and Mizi's childhood, the moment he fell in love with her was when she smiled at him with such radiance, the same moment, he felt like his heart was reborn; it was like he could breathe and smile solely for her. Till thinks back to these moments, these fleeting moments of peace because he can't let them go, he can't let go of the comfort of that familiarity.

--"Oh in a blink Gone. Blink and Gone, relish the present."

This image does bring me back to a lot of lyrics in Round 7. But this one in particular, a line that talks about living in the present before the moment slips between your fingers, in a blink, gone. But Till lives in the past.

Till doesn't think back to round 1 when he killed that alien guitar for Mizi, even though it was fully his decision, even though it was so gratifying seeing "Till win" and Mizi's acknowledgment, do you think he would have done that if he wasn't desperate and just doing what he felt like he had to do to survive? Because he had to stay by Mizi's side in her darkest moment like she was the one beacon of hope and happiness for him?

Till only suffers when he thinks back to round 6. When he's reminded of regret and pain. So, he represses the very memory of it to protect himself, he can't bring himself to even acknowledge it at all until he's forced to, when the aliens were intimidating him with Mizi's missing poster, he fights back out of anger. Just having that weakness, his guilt, and his grief used against him feels like a different kind of collar. Till thinks back to these warm, intangible memories of his childhood because life on stage was never something he could make his own, he didn't want to live for anything Alien Stage offered him, power, fame, etc. Despite his passion for music, Till is gentle and emotional at heart. This throne that is elevated high by bloodied corpses, a life living stagnant and trapped under the suffocating palm of an Alien, at the very top but inexplicably expendable, was never Till's vision of a life worth living. That's why he fought like hell for the life he wanted, for the life that he could've had. It really drives the point home when his final thoughts were centered around those moments when he was the happiest in his life.

It is so hard to feel the beauty, the warmth, in this image when everything around him is inauthentic, and it's off-putting because of the underlying details, especially since because of his gown, this scene might have taken place after one of those experiments or 'classes' it's a very subtle reminder of their reality. But his smile is so real in the moment without the collar, without the pain... he looks so carefree and full of life

And he scrunches his nose when he laughs *gets shot*

[seven-stars-in-his-palm]

the thing i love about bill cipher is that even after i've learned all of this stuff about him, seen him at the most vulnerable he'll ever get, seen him at his most innocent, i still can't give a flying fuck about trying to justify his actions. yes he's traumatized, yes he was twisted into what we know today, and while it gives a semblance of context to why he did what he did, it doesn't matter. he still ruined ford's life. he still drove and baited multiple humans to suicide. he still tormented every human he saw as his ticket out of the consequences of his own actions. he still took delight in his actions. he was willing to commit genocide for fuck's sake!!! (freezing all of the humans into statues). trying to explain away what he did does not get rid of what he did, but it certainly puts it in perspective. you won't be catching me being a bill apologist any time soon <3