#brain & beast

[odderevents]

I have had a thought. Steve secretly knowing how to play the piano bc he learned as a kid and had to stop bc his dad's an asshole is lovely. I've seen this floating around a few times and I love it. Eddie catching him playing the piano and being so fucking in love with him will never not be perfect.

But.

Consider

Steve playing the Harp.

It's definitely a rich kid instrument. Big ass fucking impractical instrument. Absolutely beautiful to look at and listen to. Hands playing piano is great. But have you ever seen an accomplished harpist? It makes you think impure thoughts about what those fingers can do.

So. Steve secretly knowing how to play the harp

Maybe his mom used to play it, so there's a big harp (the ones with the columns and super intricate base board, not celtic) that's just gathering dust in the basement. Steve started piano lessons, loved learning how to pull music out of an inert object. But his dad decides it's to effeminate, makes him stop. And sure, a harp is a different beast to a piano. But you've still got cords, and Steve's got a pretty decent ear, and he can barely remember seeing his mom play. So one day when he has the house to himself, which isn't an unusual occurrence at this point, he tries it out. And he's admittedly pretty shit at it, but so was he at piano when he started. Only difference is he has no teacher.

So maybe Steve discreetly finds a way to acquire a beginner's practice instructional book for harp. And works on it when he needs to get his brain away from things.

He's even more careful with it than he is with any dirty mags he might later acquire. He knows that worse, much worse than piano, harp is not a masculine instrument and under no circumstances should his father find out about his affinity for it.

It's still his go to when he can't sleep even years later, pulling out the now old and battered booklet of sheet music and exercises. Especially once the upside down bullshit starts. It's soothing and mindless at this point.

The harp that was much too big when he first started with it is now just the right size, it's weight against his shoulder comforting. He can close his eyes and his fingers naturally find where to land and pluck.

Even when he becomes friends with Robbin and then Eddie, both musicians who he knows wouldn't give a damn about him playing a woman's instrument, he can't bring himself to mention it. If he did, they would want to hear him play and he's self-conscious about being self-taught. Both of them play well, they play with other people and people come to listen. He doesn't consider himself a "real" musician. It's just something he does to keep his hands and brain busy on nights where the sheets feel like they're strangling him and the dark reminds him too much of when he can't see not because it's night but because something's hit him in the head again and he can't tell apart the sound of his heartbeat from something pounding through his walls.

So he goes to the basement. Finds his stool. Removes the dust cover. Goes through the meditative motions of tuning it by ear, because that's how he's always done it. And then he plays until the tips of his fingers feel numb. Somehow, he always comes out of it peaceful enough to pass out on the couch in the basement for a couple more hours.

Steve is so used to keeping it a secret he doesn't even think about it when he starts dating Eddie. It's just a thing that's always only been his, and most importantly, it's been vital to keep it that way for so long it's the natural state of things for Steve at this point. It doesn't ever come up. When Steve gets nightmares when he's sleeping with Eddie all he has to do is curl into his boyfriend's chest and feel the warm heartbeat that's not his own to settle back into himself.

The problem arises on a night when Eddie was supposed to stay with Steve but he got held up in Indianapolis when getting a new amp for his guitar. He would come back to Steve but it would be late in the night. Steve has been keeping himself busy all day so he passes out in the early evening on the couch in front of a shitty sitcom he put on to try to distract himself from the empty house.

Nightmares find him, which isn't terribly unusual, but he doesn't have his usual method of coping so he resorts back to his previous habit.

Eddie walks in bone tired after many hours of driving to and from Indianapolis, waiting while the clerk figured out they didn't have the amp he'd been assured over the phone would be available for pickup today, waiting some more while they had the amp driven from a sister shop an hour away because no way was he driving back and forth again to Indianapolis on another day. So yeah. Eddie is beat. All he wants is to dive head first into his boyfriend's impeccable pecs.

He doesn't find Steve waiting with a welcome kiss like he usually would when he walks in. Instead he's greeted with a hauntingly beautiful rendition of the melody of Master of Puppets in a way he's never heard before.

He drops his stuff in the entry hall and goes down to the basement where the music is coming from, curious to see where Steve might have found the recording. Eddie doesn't quite know what to do with himself when he finally lays eyes on Steve, with dried tear stains on his cheeks and his eyes closed as his fingers pluck and strum without hesitation. He's rooted to the spot as he watches Steve work his favorite song in a new and completely heartrending way. He hasn't been able to listen to it since he played it in the upside down. It always brings up the bitter blood tang of the air and the hair raising shrieks of the bats. But this is somehow different, it's soft and melodious but it's still got the same bones.

Eddie feels tears on his own cheeks. He's missed this song goddammit. And he couldn't be happier that it's Steve that's given it back to him

Queue tears and fear and confessions and comfort. Somehow much later in the future there's inexplicably a harp in some of the corroded coffin tracks. And it shouldn't work but it does

[metalhoops]

Remember this post? 

They were in the belly of the beast. 

The Creel House stood resolute, tinged the colour of a freshly heal wound, reopened. The same sickly red stain of The Upside Down sky, brown boards blue-hued from strange smokes and cinder. Part of Eddie felt like he’d seen the house before, in some half-remembered nightmare. Deep in the back of his brain, where all strange primal fears were housed, there was a spot saved for the decaying manner. 

By all rights, Eddie shouldn’t have been in the house. If they’d followed the original plan, he’d have been on the roof of the trailer. It’d been Wheeler, of all people who’d changed things. She was a smart girl, too damn smart for her own good in Eddie’s opinion. She’d pointed out all the ways their plan could go wrong and as much as Eddie wanted to redeem the Munson name, he didn’t want to walk into a death trap if he could help it. 

Nancy was right. That didn’t change the creeping sense of dread he felt whenever he looked her way. It was like one of Vecna’s vines had made a home in his stomach and was creeping up towards his mouth each time the girl did something impressive. Eddie had the sneaking suspicion something was swaying his feelings towards her. Something with light brown hair, who had entered the Creel house brandishing a baseball bat like a medieval sword. 

Jesus H. Christ. Seeing Steve Harrington wield the tetanus trap of a baseball bat, full of splintering wood and rusted nails wasn’t a sight he’d ever pictured living to see. 

Drifting in from the wasteland beyond the open door, Eddie could hear his amps playing ‘Master of Puppets’ on the boom box they’d borrowed from the Harringtons’. The poor little player had never gotten the taste for good music. Eddie had to admit it was a good idea. 

He, Steve and Dustin set up the trap. Once the bats began to swarm the trailer the two older boys boosted Dustin up and out of the portal, much to the kid’s protest. They then snuck around the back of the trailer, while the girls waited in the woods ahead. Nancy had her sawn-off trained on the swarm. Robin had her Molotovs. Range weapons, waiting in the wings. He and Steve were the best at evasion. If this were a campaign, he’d say they made a pretty balanced party, all things considered. 

The interior of the house was worse than Eddie expected. It was filled with rotted vines and ash, making the air smell of must and mildew. Eddie’s brain kept telling him to turn tail and run, but he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. 

He shifted his shield from one hand to the next as they moved deeper into the house, channelling his nervous energy away from his feet. One misstep and their distraction would be for nothing. Their plan was a house of cards. One gust of wind and the whole damn thing would blow over. If Eddie screwed up Red, along with everyone else in the Creel house, would be dead before the world had time to end. 

Steve took the lead up the stairs like Eddie knew he would. He had a hero complex Eddie couldn’t unpick. Once everything was over, he had questions about what the party had seen the last three times they’d decided to dance with the devil in the pale moonlight. There was something about Steve Harrington he couldn’t put his finger on. Sure, trauma could change a person, Eddie was learning that lesson the hard way, but the man charging up the stairs towards their inevitable death in too-tight pants and an army jacket had some explaining to do. 

He wasn’t sure who’d done it in the end. Whose foot made first contact with the blackened tendrils, the dominos fell too fast to pinpoint an epicentre. Nancy's body jerked one way, while Steve was sent skyward. His back hit the walls of the house with a sickly wet thud, a mass of undulating vines threatening to swallow him whole. Robin was on the floor at the foot of the steps, hacking away at the vines with an axe. Eddie was pushed against the bannister, all the air fleeing his lungs. This was how he would die. 

The sound of distant wings grew ever louder as Eddie’s vision began to blacken around the edges. 

In Eddie’s fading vision, he watched as a sliver of light glinted off something overhead. The axe fell like a guillotine, too close to Eddie’s head for comfort. He was free. He took greedy gulps of air, his eyes making contact with Buckley’s. She looked as shocked as he did, like a nocturnal animal caught in floodlights.

They didn’t have time. Robin was off, desperately hacking skywards at the vines still ensnaring Steve. He’d managed to wedge the bat between the vine and his throat. Rusted nails dug deeper into the black mass as it attempted to constrict, but it also buried the nails deeper into Steve’s flesh. 

Eddie ran to help Nancy, her lips blue as her fingers blindly grasped for the shotgun that’d landed just out of reach. Nancy was smart, but like all people, the fear of death made her dumb. A bullet to the jugular wasn’t going to fix this. 

Eddie tried to slide his fingers between the vine and her throat, to relieve some of the pressure. His fingers kept slipping, sticky with sap or blood. He didn’t know. He wished he had a knife as he tried to untangle the vines from ensnaring her body. There was nothing more he could do. He had to sit and wait as he felt the fight begin to fade from her convulsing body. He listened distantly to Robin’s slew of curses as she hacked at drywall. For each vine cut from Steve’s body, there was another waiting to ensnare him. 

Life-or-death situations had a strange way of bringing one's true feelings to the surface. Eddie crouched beside Nancy, his hand clawing at the vine encircling her throat, watching as her panic-ridden eyes flickered across his face. He noticed her hand twitching up trying to pry the vine from its hold on her throat and Eddie’s arm. She was so weak he hadn’t noticed her attempt. He ran a thumb absentmindedly back and forth across her knuckles, trying to soothe her. 

“Hey, no. Hey. You’re fine, Wheeler. You’re okay. Slow breaths, alright? You’ve got this,” he muttered hating how uncertain he sounded, how strained his voice was. 

He didn’t hate Nancy. He’d hate himself if he let Steve’s chance of a storybook ending die in his arms but Christ that was a lot of pressure. 

He crouched there until his fingers turned white and an axe descended upon the vines, cutting them both free. Wheeler gasped, taking deep shaky breaths as she squeezed Eddie’s hand, locking eyes with Buckley over his shoulder. She schooled her features when Steve came into view. His throat wept blood but he was upright, which was more than Eddie could’ve hoped for. 

The vines began to retreat for a reason they couldn’t discern. The group rushed to the second-floor landing, as the swarm of bats descended upon the house, rushing in through the open door. Eddie watched as something shifted in Steve’s stance. He twisted the baseball bat in his hands, familiarising himself with the weapon before taking a few practice swings. 

“Keep going. I’ll hold ‘em off,” Steve spoke. 

Eddie knew it wasn’t a good plan. He knew what happened to the people who stayed behind. Steve had warned him about playing the hero. Eddie wasn’t going to let him have all the fun. 

He held his shield aloft in front of himself, trying to see how much of his body he could brace behind it. If this were a campaign, Eddie knew fighting something that nasty on your own would be akin to a death sentence. 

“I’m staying. Even the odds,” Eddie spoke, as though two boys fresh off the heels of adolescence taking on a swarm of hundreds of unearthly horrors was in any way shape or form, even.  They just had to hold them off until Vecna was dead. The hellscape couldn’t survive without him. Cut off the head and the rest would follow. 

If they had more time, maybe things would’ve gone differently. Maybe they would’ve come up with a better plan, but there was no time. Robin looked poised for an argument or a thought-out speech but Nancy cocked the shotgun and dragged her forward. She knew the silent promise that came with goodbyes. 

The boys were faced with a black mass of writhing wings. They found a rhythm with ease. Steve swung his bat in a perfect arch, sending any unfortunate hell spawn in its wake flying into Eddie’s waiting shield, empaled on the jagged nails. 

Eddie was surprised at how easy it was to find something akin to peace at that moment. He and Steve knew how to move around each other, and how to anticipate each other. They watched the other’s back and oftentimes found themselves back-to-back. Steve’s broad shoulders were grounding where they pressed into Eddie’s. It was the world's strangest game of baseball. With Steve at his side, the horror of the moment seemed to fall away. 

They worked better together than Eddie could’ve imagined and lasted longer than he’d thought. Yet, they couldn’t hold out much longer. The room smelled of rotted iron and Eddie’s sides throbbed. He was too hopped up on adrenaline for the seriousness of the situation to take hold, but one look at Steve in his periphery let him know they were both in bad shape. 

The boy was covered in blood. The wound in his side was torn open once more. Someone could trace their movement by the bloody footprints littering the floor. 

They were dying. 

Eddie tried not to let the enormity of the situation swallow him whole. 

“Hey? How’s it going in there? You killin’ the son of a bitch or just admiring the view?” Eddie screamed above the beating of wings. When a response didn’t come, Steve and Eddie exchanged worried looks. 

“Rob?” Steve yelled, casting a glance through the doorway. 

The moment of distraction left him wide open for a bat to swoop, wrapping its twisted tail around Steve’s arm and tugging him upwards. Eddie acted fast, grabbing Steve’s ankle, and pulling him back to the relative safety of the rotting boards, bloated and warping from the mingling blood and black, bat ooze. 

“I can’t find the lighter,” Robin’s voice called at last. It must have fallen from her pocket when the vines attacked. Shit. 

Eddie plunged his hands into the depths of his jacket pocket and thanked the god he didn’t believe in for his habit of chain smoking in times of crisis. He’d brought another lighter. 

“Watch my six Stevie, I’ve got one,” Eddie called, rushing into the room leaving no space to argue. 

Nancy had slung the rifle over her shoulder and had taken Robin’s axe, making short work of the few bats that’d managed to sneak past his and Steve’s defences. 

Eddie ran to Robin’s side, noticing how the girl’s eyes swelled at seeing him. He was definitely in bad shape then. Her hands trembled as she held out the bottle. Time and time again, Eddie tried to light the cloth. It wasn’t working.

Nothing was working. Panic finally took hold of Eddie. They were going to die. He wished he could say he made peace with that knowledge, but he couldn’t. 

“Shit, shit, shit,” Eddie mumbled as the lighter continued to dull and spark. 

“What’s going on? I’m coming in,” Steve yelled as he appeared in the doorway barring the opening as best he could, trying to hold the flimsy wood as it buckled beneath the bats' weights. 

Steve’s eyes shifted over the scene, assessing the situation within seconds. 

He charged forward, taking the bottle from Robin’s hands, and letting the rag fall to the floor. 

“Nancy, get ready to shoot,” Steve called as he stalked closer to Vecna’s dangling body. A look passed between the two. The glance told Nancy everything she needed to know.

“Eds, lighter,” Steve called over his shoulder extending his hand. Eddie blinked, tossing it to Steve. 

Eddie would remember what happened next for the rest of his life. Whether that life lasted for minutes or decades, it didn’t matter. There was no such thing as a perfect moment, but what followed was as close as they could come. 

Steve took a deep swig of vodka, filling his cheeks with the bitter liquid and held Eddie’s lighter aloft, the small flame illuminating Steve’s features, a final spark of warmth amongst the blue-grey walls and ash of the house. His hands dripped blood, what was left of his skin was pale from the loss of it. 

Steve spat the alcohol in a perfect arc, through the flame, breathing fire over Vecna’s body, catching the dark wizard alight. Steve was a fallen king turned dragon. A higher kind of nobility. Breathtaking, unearthly, and dangerous. 

As Nancy littered Vecna’s body with bullets, Eddie kept his eyes trained on Steve, his heart in his throat. Eddie wasn’t one for sudden affections. His heart was an alley cat, wary and distrustful by nature. Yet, despite everything, Eddie fell in love with Steve at that moment. His heart soared straight past ‘crush’ and on through to adoration. Maybe it was the blood loss but with Vecna’s dead body on the floor at their feet, he knew at that moment, his life would be inextricably connected to Steve’s. 

The boy shot him a smile over his shoulder, his lip bloody, vodka smattering his chin. The room smelled of kindling. 

The girls rushed to Steve, taking turns embracing him. The sound of bats at the door had finally stopped. It was over. They’d won. 

Eddie watched on helplessly as Steve rested his forehead against Robin’s, holding the girl close, his face contorting in pain. Robin muttered a string of incoherent words just loud enough for Steve to hear before pulling back. 

Nancy was next. Their hug was less feverish, more familiar. Nancy’s chin rested on Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s hands gripped the back of her shirt as they had a hundred times before. They looked good together. It made Eddie ache. He looked away. 

When he looked back, to his surprise Robin had scooped Nancy into a too-tight hug, blathering about how petrified she’d been and how amazing Nancy was. Much to his surprise, Steve was looking at him, his arms open in offering. 

The others were close. They had gone through hell together. Eddie was the outsider. It felt strange being offered a place amongst them, but he didn’t know when he’d get another opportunity, so he strode forward letting Steve’s arms encircle his body. 

It wasn’t the kind of hug he’d expected. It wasn’t feverish, like Robin’s or as solid and steadfast as Nancy’s. Steve clung to him, his hands gripped at Eddie’s forearms, as though trying to map out the uncharted territory before pulling him closer. His hands snaked around Eddie’s body, finally finding a home, clutching at the shirt fabric around his shoulder blades.

Eddie didn’t know what to do with his hands, finding them slipping beneath Steve’s jacket, just above his waist. His head found its way to Steve’s shoulder and Steve’s did the same. He could feel the boy’s heart pounding. He smelled of sweat, blood, and alcohol. 

“You’re a total badass, Steve Harrington.” Eddie gasped. His breath was hot against Steve’s ear. The boy chuckled, causing a shiver to run up his spine.

“I don’t know, Munson. That’s high praise comin’ from a hero,” Steve spoke.

“I’m not-,” Eddie began, but Steve wasn’t having it. 

“Take a compliment dude. You went to Mordor,” Steve spoke in the tone of a man who still didn’t know exactly what ‘Mordor’ was. 

Hawkins’ golden boy, trying to ‘speak nerd’ to him wasn’t quelling any of Eddie’s feelings. 

“Yeah well, next time we go somewhere let’s make it nice. Check out The Rockies, The Grand Canyon, maybe California.” 

Later Eddie would blame the blood loss for being so bold. 

Steve pulled back, just far enough to look at Eddie’s face. To his surprise, Steve shot him a goofy grin. 

“I like the sound of that.” 

[asheurbanipal]

Where were they going without ever knowing the way? Ch. 2

on A03

<<Previous

Summary:

No luggage. No gas in the truck. No memories. Waking up with amnesia in a shack in the desert, our heroes find themselves drifting down the highway with no specific direction in mind. The only thing driving them? We know each other, and know each other well. But how? And why? And what is this feeling that lives in the pit of my stomach when I look at you?

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: ~10k

Chapter 2/2 in series

Content: memory loss, amnesia, trauma, amputation, canon-typical violence, bathtub sex, homophobic slurs

Chapter 2

"We haven't seen you in more than a week," said the man Logan had learned was named Scott. They had some kind of beef. None of them were talking about it, but everyone was clearly aware. The tension was there.

The giant silver dude, Colossus, had pulled their jeep around until it backed up to the SUV, creating areas for everyone to sit. Another woman with white hair had arrived --literally flying in-- that raised a warmer sense of familiarity in his chest. She hadn't given her name, yet, though. She seemed extra pissed at him for whatever bullshit it was they had pulled. 

"Okay, so what was going on the last time you saw us?" Wade asked. This group --the X-men-- had been concerned but prickly with Logan. A sort of familial irritation. For Wade that was amped up to frustrated exasperation. 

"There was an interstellar dragon situation in Moapa Valley," Scott sighed. Logan felt Wade tense in excitement. He shot a hand out and pressed it around the top of Wade's shoulder into the bottom of his throat a little. He caught the message to maybe shut the fuck up for a second. 

"Wade begged to come with," Scott continued. "I told him, 'no.' He said if I let him come, he could show us some ammunition caches out in the desert he knew about. Something from an older merc job that they never cleaned up."

"Oh, fuck I'm a goddamn genius." Wade clapped rapidly in delight. 

"Yeah, unfortunately," Scott agreed. "So I let you come. It was your idea to go to Vegas."

"Hm, that does sound like me," Wade decided. "Oh! I know what Vegas is! That's a good sign, right?"

"It ended up being a terrible idea, so..." Scott turned a small circle with his arms crossed. 

"To be fair, Scott," said Hank McCoy. "I only came on this particular mission to go to Vegas myself. We were going that direction, anyway." Hank --Beast-- had taken a minute to adjust to. Big. Blue. Furry. But somehow this particular brand of weird was acceptable and familiar. He turned to Logan. "I wanted to touch base with a colleague at a research facility near Lake Mead." The new information immediately sorted itself into a lower priority drawer in Logan's brain. 

"Fine," Scott agreed reluctantly. "But you two basically disappeared the instant we got to Vegas. Three days later, you've stolen one of the SUVs off the jet and left Warhead a cryptic message about 'a memory wipe guy.'" He nodded to the girl in yellow, the one that had spoken to them first.

"I told him you'd come home eventually," Warhead said, "be he insisted we try to at least pretend to look for you."

"Because you've both been acting fucking weird lately, so I wasn't sure what bullshit you'd get up to." Scott kicked a rock in the dirt. "Ever since-"

"Don't tell them, Scott."

"Storm?" 

The woman with the white hair --Storm, he now guessed-- moved from her perch on a nearby rock to sidle up to where Logan was sitting on the back of the SUV bumper.

"Let them relearn it themselves," she hissed. "They want to solve their petty squabbles by manipulating their minds, let them earn their memories back." 

"I did something to you didn't I?" Logan asked, cowed under her steely gaze. 

"More what you didn't do. And when you remember, you're going to regret it."

#####

"I'm not getting in that fucking plane. We'll drive back. The tracker is on, isn't it? You won't lose us this time."

"Logan…"

"We'll meet up in Vegas." 

Wade watched from the back of the SUV as Logan argued with the guy wearing the visor. Scott. Scooottt. Name sounded funny in his head and on his tongue. The instant he had suggested everyone get back on the jet, Logan had freaked out. 

Baby boy doesn't like to fly. Put that away in the vault and lock it up. 

Knowing they had a very sexy domestic relationship had changed the way he looked at Logan. That bloom of warmth he had been trying to make sense of was welcome now. He could bathe in it. 

Logan stormed up to the side of the SUV, wrenching it open to hop in the driver's seat. 

"Wade. Finish up whatever and get up here. We're going." 

"Yes, sir, Logan, sir." Wade pulled the SUV hatch down and scrambled through the center opening, unfolding in the front seat. There was a brief cold war with the X-Jeep through the rearview before the other vehicle headed off into the sand. 

"Dicks," Logan said to the reflection of their tail lights. He pressed the keyless ignition and began the process of moving the SUV back to the highway.

"Sounds like they're your best friends." Wade offered his hand across the console of the SUV. Logan took it absently.

Oh, muscle memory. Delightful. 

"And considering you're apparently my partner, I'm getting a stark sense of the company I keep." He squeezed Wade's hand. The sensation rolled up him so nicely he could ignore the half an insult underneath. 

Not like I'm NOT an asshole, from what I can tell. No reason not to accept it. 

"Do you think we're a happy couple?" Wade asked, pushing the conversation in a direction he preferred. 

"According to the pictures…" Logan rumbled a thought across his mouth. "Yes. I think we are. I feel like we are. It feels good."

"What would have happened if visor-boy and the mutant crew hadn't shown up?"

"We'd go to the address on our licenses. I had already been doing the math on the drive to New York."

"No, I meant when we were making out. If they hadn't interrupted." Wade flipped their hands over a few times. 

"I would have fucked you senseless. I was not ready to slow down. It was like a…fugue state."

Oh those asssshoollleeesss.

"I'm glad we got stopped, though." Logan removed his hand to shift the GPS then settled it back. "I would have felt weird about it afterward. Because we're not totally ourselves." 

"I wouldn't have," Wade replied. Logan kept his eyes on the road and didn't speak, but there was a tilt to his head that suggested he was curious to hear the rest of that. It was little realizations like this where he started to see the imprint of their relationship. The fact that he knew how to read Logan's body language. 

"We were both consenting, " Wade continued. "You're hot as hell. And if you fuck like you fight, you are a champion of dicking down. If you deigned to lower yourself to my level, I'd one night stand you in a heartbeat, no questions asked. With the added knowledge that we're already together, I don't really care if I can't remember anything. I'd suck your soul out of your dick even if I had a lobotomy." 

The silence that followed made Wade more and more nervous, Logan's hand tightening around his. When it relaxed, he felt himself breathe again. 

"What do you mean lower myself?" Logan glanced sideways under the shadow of his eyelashes. 

Holy fuck do I actually have to explain this to him? He can't be this stupid.

"Look, I've got a supple ass and a sick rack. This is not up for debate. But this suit's hiding a lot of sins, baby girl. Underneath all this red sexy, is a…mess, basically. No one thought to give me the full scoop on what the fuck is wrong with me, but whatever it was, it turned me into a giant ballsack."

"Wade, I think you're extremely attractive." They had hit a stretch of straight road, and Logan took the risk to chance some hard looks at Wade. 

"I'm sure you got over your initial gag response, at some point, and now you love me because of my inside beauty, but like…come on."

"There's no way I had put up with this from you for any length of time."

"What 'this?'" 

"This self-deprecation thing."

"And there's no way I was totally cool with getting my arm chopped off on the daily, so clearly-"

"So clearly it's something we worked on at some point." Logan squeezed his hand one more time before setting it on the wheel to deal with a rough patch of road.

Oh. I hadn't considered that. 

"What if we just suck?" Wade countered. "And not in the fun way. We're just terrible people who are terrible together?" 

I don't want to believe that. That doesn't feel right at all. It makes me sad. 

"I don't believe that," Logan said.

motherfucker's telepathic

 "I think we're just a little broken, " Logan said. "And we're fixing each other. Slowly. Or at least taping each other back together." His fists went tighter around the wheel. 

"How are you so sure?" Wade asked. 

"I'm not. But the only solid memory I've gotten back is that I love you. So that must be the most important one. I can work from there." 

No wonder I'm in love with this man.

#####

Logan found the cellphones, fully charged, in a secret compartment in the back of the SUV while they were stopped at a travel plaza on the west side of Phoenix, Arizona. Scott had been kind enough to at least inform him that the SUV did, indeed, need to get refueled whenever possible. The solar battery would only run them so far even at the full charge it had built up parked out under the sun. With full nightfall coming on fast, they weren't going to be able to recharge for a while.

They had both gone in to take a piss, and now Wade was taking forever for whatever reason. They had already changed into civilian clothes, so it wasn't a suit issue. It didn't matter. It gave him time to go through their phones by himself. Whatever he had told Wade, a part of him was nervous, still. 

He held the phones in his hand, deciding which to go through, first. Both had unlocked on his face. The pink glitter case with the tiny rainbow charm and an illustrated cat giving the middle finger on the lockscreen was probably Wade's. He sure fucking hoped it was, at least. It felt wrong to go through Wade's stuff without permission, so he started digging through the phone with the black and gray case, first. 

It was less than useful. 

His lock screen was their dog in a little red suit like Wade's. The wallpaper was a picture of him and his maybe-daughter eating cotton candy. Someone else had taken the picture. Maybe Wade?

The rest of the phone was starkly practical. A few basic functional apps, New York Times puzzles, and solitaire. The calendar said that "Puppins" was due for their flea and heartworm meds, so that was a clue on the dog, at least

Scott said they had been acting weird "since-." Since what? He flicked back through the calendar to look for anything that seemed like a big deal. Regular briefings with the X-Men, reminders to take out the trash, lawn care service…

"Dinner?" Logan said to himself as his feet dangled off the back bumper of the SUV. Two months back was an entry in his calendar that didn't look like he made it. It was the phrase "TAKE ME TO DINNER" in all caps with emoji hearts next to it. "Maybe I didn't take him when I was supposed to. Then we fought? Is that what we've been being 'weird since'?"

"You found our phones!?" Wade shouted across the parking lot, drawing everyone's attention as he jogged back to the SUV. He had changed out his red suit for a loose jersey with an X on it, cargo khaki shorts, knee-high socks and sandals. He looked objectively ridiculous, but it matched his overall vibe so perfectly, Logan couldn't imagine him in anything else. He had acquired a baseball cap with a cardinal on it inside the travel stop. 

He hopped up next to Logan in the SUV, pulling out a couple of Ramune soda bottles. He popped the marble at the top then took a swig. Wade just looked down at his forlornly.

"I don't know how to open this," he said to himself quietly. Logan took it from him and went through the process a second time. 

"Then why did you get them?"

"I don't know. I just saw them, was super surprised they had them at a travel stop, then my hand was already reaching for them. I think…I think you like them?" 

"Yeah, they're not bad," Logan said, handing the drink back. Wade took a sip, and his face said he wasn't sure how he felt. "Anyway, here. Phone. I want you to look at a specific date." 

"Absolutely," but the first place Wade went digging was the photo gallery. "Oh I have a whole folder in here marked 'Logan XXX.'"

"Okay, but did I pose for those? Or are they candid? Because I get the feeling-"

"Do you have any sexy pictures of me?" Wade shifted the focus with a snap.

"I didn't look." 

"Can you?" Wade looked across at him, batting his lashless lids. 

"I-okay...sure." He didn't expect there to actually be any. If the conversation from earlier was anything to go by, that little detail wasn't going to make Wade feel good about himself. Delaying it was going to make it worse, though. 

He flicked through the gallery. It wasn't organized, but there wasn't much there to keep track of. Landscapes. Pretty sunsets and cloud formations. A few series of Puppins sleeping in weird positions. His maybe-daughter at various distances. When the first picture of Wade appeared, he gave a little chin nudge into Logan's shoulder. 

It was a video. Wade playing with the dog in the yard, running barefoot through the grass in green and brown camo patterned shorts and a bright pink t-shirt with Dolly Parton on it. His smile was wide, shooting back and forth in the grass before he tossed a tennis ball. The camera followed Puppins chasing the ball. Wade chattered something in the background of the video that the camera didn't pick up, then it ended. 

"Okay, super boring and domestic. Give me something hot and spicy." Wade reached over to scroll through the gallery quicker. "Oh this one's…oh…maybe not."

Wade in a plain colored t-shirt and sweats, feet up on a coffee table, mid-talking to whoever was behind the camera. It was the exact t-shirt Logan was wearing at that very moment. A picture of Wade in his clothes? 

Wade was already moving through the gallery, again, stopping when he saw his face every ten pictures or so.

Wade holding the dog. Wade making stupid faces with his maybe-daughter. Wade and another young Japanese woman making stupid faces at Warhead. Wade with reading glasses focusing extremely hard on a Sudoku book. A video of Wade in his red suit, finessing his swords in a quick circle and giggling. A follow-up video of Wade showing this trick to some preteen boys. A second-follow up video of him showing those same kids how to run some kind of parkour drill in a large room. 

"None of these are sexy," Wade declared. 

"I think we just have vastly different versions of sexy," Logan assured, the warmth that rose in his chest spreading out into his stomach. 

"Whatever." Wade scrunched his nose then went back to his phone. "What date did you want me to look at?" Logan brought his phone over. 

"Here, two weeks ago. Looks like you made a calendar entry." 

Wade hummed and opened his calendar. It was a mess. Reminders and notes and alarms for everything short of breathing. The date in question only had one block on it. 

"It says one year anniversary." Wade waved his phone at Logan gently, then his face changed as he realized what he said. "One year. I can't decide if that's a good amount of time or none at all. Even if I can't remember shit, I feel like I've known you forever." 

Logan pressed through his own thoughts. Wade felt new in his brain. Big but new. Life changing but recent. Maybe that was why they had built a life together so quickly. 

"So, weird question," Logan said, "but I'm wondering if something happened at that dinner. Did we go?" 

"Oh! That should be easy. I'll look at pictures from the date. Since I actually take some." He waggled his eyebrows. "Looks like I might have put it in a folder, even. Look at me. All organized and shit." 

The pictures Wade presented started pretty normal. Them getting ready in their shared bedroom. A few selfies of them in nice clothes. Nothing fancy. Logan was in a sports coat and dark jeans with a cowboy hat. Wade looked smart in khakis, a maroon button up, and cream cardigan, but he didn't look totally comfortable in the outfit. The next few shots were in front of an Italian restaurant of some sort. Only confirmed because Wade took artsy photos of his pasta. But then something had gone wrong. Another selfie on the street on the way somewhere else showed paired looks of concern. 

The next photo was a couple hours later.

A quick shot of Wade with a thumbs up in front of a pile of bodies with Logan in the background, claws out, digging into one last person. Both their outfits were torn and bloody, the splatters implying it wasn't their own. These unknown adversaries were armed to the teeth and dressed in black, so he could only assume they deserved whatever came to them. 

The next picture was Logan throwing back a beer in their house, still a little torn and bloody, an air of broodiness hovering over him. They must have resolved things quickly, because the next photos were very obviously from Wade riding on top of him. Yet somehow not as explicit as they could have been.

"Oh, I am an artist, " Wade decided. 

"So clearly something happened that night," Logan said. "But I think whatever it was started whatever…this…is." He gestured between them. "Scott said we'd been acting weird since some big event. An anniversary seems like the kind of thing that might set off a chain of weirdness."

"Especially if something went really wrong," Wade finished. "Yeah, I hear you, peanut." He looked up and glanced around. "We should stay here in Phoenix tonight." 

"Kinda wanted to drive through."

"To get to Vegas where we got ourselves in trouble the first time. And I know we're both tired. And there's literally a Super 8, like, right over there somewhere according to the cashier." He pointed down the road. 

The problem was Logan couldn't actually disagree with him. He was, indeed, exhausted. And driving this tired was probably dangerous. 

"Alright. Fuck. We'll find somewhere to stay. But not a fuckin' Super 8. I found a black card in my wallet, and I intend to use it if I'm going to have to suffer."

"Yay!"

#####

"There's still time to switch to two queens instead of a king. They probably wouldn't ask any questions."

"What?" Wade asked, then the rest of his brain processed the question as he gazed around the room. "No. No no no no. This is fine." He dropped his bag at the end of the bed. 

"I'm sorry for not confirming with you," Logan said. "Hotel clerk asked what kind of room, and I went into auto-pilot. We must get hotel rooms a lot."

Probably not like this one. Doesn't feel familiar.

The best they could find within spitting distance was a Marriott, but after a night on a cave floor it might as well be a ten-star accommodation. He did another once over of the room, searching under the tables and chairs for…something…It was like a tick. An impulse to check the room for possible security failures. He turned and panicked. Logan was taking off his shirt. 

fuck fuck fuck

Wait….why are you freaking out? You saw him shirtless just a few hours ago.

Calm the fuck down. 

"I assume you'll want a shower. Mind if I go first?" 

"No, go ahead." 

"Okay." Logan paused with his thumbs in the waistband of his jeans. "Are you okay?"

"What do you mean?" Wade tried to lean nonchalantly on the table then jumped back when it tipped underneath him. 

"You're always a little bit distracted, but you seem on edge. Did you remember something?"

"Ah…no…um…I think we hid our cellphones. That maybe we're the ones who put them in that secret compartment." It had started needling at him immediately. Why hide their phones? Why tuck them away like that?

"Who were we hiding them from?"

"Ourselves?"

"Huh…" Logan paced a few steps as he ruminated on the idea. "So we leave our wallets in our bags, phones in the car, then fuck off into the desert?"

"It's a theory," Wade said. 

I don't have any better ones, at the moment.

"Does that make sense?" Logan sat on the bed to think. "Not that I think you're wrong; I'm just trying to find the logic."

"I kind of ruled out being kidnapped pretty early what with the whole…personal armory…thing. Don't think a kidnapper would have left us behind with that."

"Nope, probably not…wait…" He paused to roll a thought over. "We also erased our own memories."

"Shit, you're right, " Wade said. "That's what Glasses said. We 'found the memory wipe guy.' We were looking for this." 

"Why the absolute fuck would we do this to ourselves?" Logan stood from the bed again, crossing his arms over his chest. "It had to be for a reason. A really good one." His pacing got a little faster. 

He's sexy when he's thinking.  

He's sexy when he's breathing, though, so whatever.

Wade watched Logan's form, tracking his every muscle movement. That welling feeling of wanting to bite and gnaw on him kept rising up in his chest and setting his throat on fire. It was so fucking distracting, but it was also raw . Pure in its utter debauchery. He had to believe it was a real thing. 

"You did this." Logan's voice slammed hard against him. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I can tell I've had my memory wiped before. I can feel it. Stacked amnesia. I wouldn't have volunteered to do this again. It must have been your idea." 

Wade moved forward across the room, stood a foot from Logan, chest out and shoulders wide. Trying to be mad but only finding hurt.

"Or maybe since you've been through amnesia before, you thought it was worth it for whatever this…project…is. Or maybe it was my idea, but there's no way I forced you to do it. So you agreed."

"Maybe you strong-armed me. Blackmailed me. Withheld something until I said yes. Like sex." 

What the fuck , dude?

"Do any of those pictures look like a man who would withhold sex? Especially from you ? What the fuck is your problem? You know what no…" 

fuckin' 

Even if it was my idea so what? So fucking what. We're in this together now.

"I'm going to go search the SUV for any more clues," Wade declared. "And you're going to sit and think about what you just said to me.

Fucking ass.

He started toward the door. 

"Fucking ass," he gave as a parting shot. 

The problem was that he couldn't necessarily say that Logan was wrong. Erasing their memories was probably his idea. In their one day together, he could figure out that much. He didn't know if he was a genius or an idiot or that beautiful combination of the two, but he was clearly the schemer. 

Logan was absolutely not the type to be strong-armed into anything he didn't want to do, though. Either he had comfortably agreed with the plan, or Wade had been sufficiently persuasive. So for him to be this accusatory was downright insulting.

And that's something I'm allowed to be mad about, damn it. 

He crawled into the back of the SUV, and started aimlessly throwing panels back, folding and unfolding the seats, looking for any evidence of a hidden pocket. He did uncover a few, but there was little of any importance inside. Two more backpacks of clothes. Another small duffle with extra ammo for a gun he hadn't found in his armory bag. The shotgun that went with the ammo he just found.

The organization of this is all over the place. 

Why do I kind of understand it, though?

I'm absolutely the one who packed this SUV and filled all its hideyholes. 

After an hour of fruitless labor, he dropped breathlessly into the passenger seat, door still open. He unlatched the glovebox. Just the user manual. He closed it again. The latch didn't take and it popped back open again. 

Fuck you.

He tried to close it again, but the manual got in the way this time. 

FUCK YOU. 

He pulled out the book and reared back with the intention of throwing it as hard as possible. Then a piece of paper fell out. Lined notebook paper, folded in half with writing on the outside. "WOLVERINE, READ ME. FROM YOU (WOLVERINE)" 

oh hoh hoh hoh 

I'm absolutely reading this bitch.

Dropping the manual into the driver's seat, he unfolded it carefully, laying it across his lap. Under the dome light, the indents of the blue pen filled the paper with beveled shadows, the other side of the page textured under his fingers. 

Logan, Wade won't look in the glove box, but I know at some point you'll get bored and check the manual for features. You agreed to have your memory erased, but you told him you'd be leaving behind a note. You just didn't tell him where in case he hid it again.

Oh fuck. 

He was super adamant about neither of us knowing anything for this project. You'll understand why, eventually.  Right now, you're freaked out. I know. We've been through this amnesia thing before. It's real shit every time. Don't worry this time IT WILL COME BACK when the serum wears off.

Here Logan had underlined a few times, almost bleeding into the next line. 

I put in some backups for when this goes to shit. The tracker on the SUV will start pinging again, at some point, so the X-Men will find you eventually. So look for a guy with a visor, a giant metal dude, or an attractive black woman with white hair. You can trust them.  YOU CAN TRUST WADE. I can't tell you more, but you would kill and die for this man. More importantly, he would do the same for you. Just get back to Las Vegas and don't freak out.  -Logan   PS. Wade, if you do happen to find this, shut the fuck up.

But then he'd put a little smiley face at the end of the line. Wade let the note sit in his lap for a minute. Had he left a letter like this for himself? He was certain he would have found it, by now. Had Logan found this note already? Was he using that to form his own opinions? Wade had to know. 

Wade practically scrambled through the main door and up the elevator. He almost dropped the keycard but hustled the door open. 

"Logie, I have found the juciest clue!"

……

Logan?

"Kitty cat?" Wade peered around the room, testing the bathroom door. Logan was gone. 

#####

Logan's hands were firmly in his pockets, held tight around a thumb drive. It hadn't been too late for an Uber when he left the hotel, but, depending on how long this took, he might not have the same luck getting all the way across town. He also had the car drop him off about two blocks away from the internet cafe. It wasn't a specific thought that led to that decision. More like something that lived deeper. That had been ingrained in him over a long period of time until it was second nature.

Escaping into the night without telling anyone also felt natural. He hadn't questioned the decision even once. 

He had found the thumb drive in the interior of one of Wade's bags. It had taken seconds, and was mostly an accident. When Wade stormed out, Logan got mad. Mad without a specific focus. Just…mad and sad and annoyed. He picked up all the bags and moved them against the wall, pushing some of his frustration into tossing them against the wall. It was pure accident that one of the bags of clothes made a jingling sound when it banged against the chair leg. One run of his hand along the inside of the bag, and he found the bulge. A quick swipe of his claw along the inner lining, and the pony keychain with the thumb drive attached revealed itself. 

If he had to make a guess, Wade had left some kind of trail of clues. Breadcrumbs. The drive would hold some kind of viable information to bring this all together. He wanted to see it himself, first, though, on his own. Wanted to see what Wade thought was important and convinced himself it was how to make up for saying something so awful.

 The hotel didn't have a business center. A quick Google showed him that "LAN Cafes" were a thing, though, and there was a 24/7 one in Tempe. Logan paid for one of the open computer stations and fumbled through the technology enough to access the drive. 

He found a folder labeled "Our Life-DONT LOOK UNLESS FUCKED" and a solo text document. He clicked on that one first. 

Hey Toad-face-

Ah, this was a note from Wade to Wade. The self-deprecation was immediate and strong. The computer had clearly corrected Wade's writing but hadn't caught everything. 

You have super cancer. You can heal pretty much anything. You can theoretically not die but I haven't fully tested it and NOW IS NOT THE TIME. That's all done The super hot fucker your with is super important and he wont let you die for to long. Promise. Right now you have a bet going so I'm not going to spoil anything. But honey badger said that he would only do this thing if I set a contingency or two. This is that. I used the computer in the business suite at our hotel to make this. Only look at it if something goes to shit and your memory is super fucked.    -XOXO Wade (=˃ᆺ˂=)  

Logan closed out of the document, then drifted the cursor over to the folder. He tapped his finger on the mouse, deciding whether he would open it. 

"Fuck it." 

The folder was full of pictures, and he found himself just skimming, scrubbing through the folder window. He had seen the photos on the phone already. Seen himself through Wade's eyes via camera. He slowed down when he saw another text document. It was full of wall to wall text, no paragraphs. It was hard to read, but he muddled through the rambling, wandering language. 

Wade hadn't fully considered that the man who would be reading this wouldn't have all his memories, so there were jumps in context. Gaps in the lore. They had been through something big together, though. Wade kept referencing The Void. Kept talking about when they "exploded." Referenced multiple universes. Sometimes he slipped into a time clearly before Logan was around. About a woman named Vanessa he seemed to love desperately at one point. Time travel. Despite his insistence in the other document, he might have actually died at one point. At the end was a list of instructions on the best way to reattach a severed limb.

"Buried the info a bit, but we figured it out." He went back to the pictures, and scrolled down to the end. Some of these were newer, taken in Vegas. The images flashed through the preview pane quickly. 

He stopped on the last one. It was a selfie of them in sports coats and jeans standing in the middle of a balloon arc, holding a piece of paper. An official looking document with their names on it, sanctioned by the State of Nevada.

A marriage license. 

Wade found him in the bar. Drinking seemed the best option after what he found, and he wasn't ready to go back to the hotel, yet. He needed to process all his emotions in an environment that felt familiar. He didn't actually know what he liked, though, so he was up to drink number three, landing on a Blue Moon, for now. 

He had no idea how long it would take him to get drunk or if he even could, but he was willing to start the relearning process. 

"Hey," Wade said quietly, sidling up to him at the counter. He set a tablet down in front of them. It was blinking with dots. 

"Is that…tracking us?" Logan scrubbed around on the screen, getting a feel for the environment around them. 

"Yeah, I found it in the SUV. Not sure where the receivers are hidden, though. Maybe shoes?" Wade zoomed out, and another dot appeared way to south of them. "And I think that's another one. Maybe one we left behind somewhere?"

Logan dragged the tablet over and started looking at the streets and nearby landmarks. 

"The AA token that was in my wallet. It was a tracking chip. I threw it in the dirt. Not ruining my sobriety after all." He took a swig in celebration.

"Weird choice," Wade decided. 

"Maybe we couldn't find something better at the last minute and wanted to make sure we could find our wallets. Whatever it is we're doing, I'm not totally sure we thought all the details out. Feels like we kind of half-assed it."

"So you don't think this was my idea, anymore?" Wade tested.

"Nope. Still do." Out of the corner of his eye, Wade's head dipped in melancholy. Logan pulled him in around the waist. "But I'm very sorry for the way I said it. It was unnecessarily mean. I was just…being an asshole. I realized that you were right, and I must have agreed to do it. And if I agreed to do it, it must have been for a good reason." He tucked his face into the halo of Wade's hoodie and spared him a kiss on the cheek. 

They were good and goddamn married after all, right? Right…? 

"This ain't one of the gay bars, boys." The voice crackled from somewhere behind them. 

"Mike, shut the fuck up." A woman's voice hissed at the first as they turned around.

Mike was a decent looking guy in his late twenties. Probably went to the gym a couple times a week. Little bit of stubble. Douchebag haircut. T-shirt from something local and jeans. He had matching wedding rings with the woman next to him who was clutching to his arm in concern. The woman across from him was the one yelling at him. She was paired with a smaller man who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. 

"Just talking to my husband, bub," Logan said, then started turning back. 

"Husband?" Wade whispered. Logan gave a little headshake that he would explain later. 

"Okay, well maybe you'd be more comfortable doing that somewhere else." Mike was relentless, it would seem. 

"Oh my god, in the year of our Lord Patti Lupone: 2025 is this actual real life homophobia?" Wade cracked his knuckles.

"Wade, calm down. This isn't a barfight kind of establishment." He squeezed Wade's hand for half a moment, working from bone-deep muscle memory. 

"A barfight?" Mike stood up, tottering off his stool. "You fairies want to make this a barfight?"

"MIKE WHAT THE FUCK?" The woman tried to drop down around the table and get to him. Her partner sort of flailed in uncertainty. 

"Mike, honey," his wife tried to reach out to him, but he shook her off.

"Nah, if these fucking fags wanna go, let's go--" 

Wade threw the first and only punch, getting in half a second before Logan could. Mike went down hard, his body making a series of thumps as he hit the floor. He wasn't out, but sitting on the sticky concrete, dazed. Wade was already leaning back against the countertop.

"Honey, your claws." He tapped the blades that had zipped out from Logan's hands. 

"Right." He pulled them back in. He turned to the bartender, a young woman who currently had her hand hovering over a hidden button that would call the police. "Close my tab. We're leaving." He grabbed Wade around the wrist, pulling him out of the room. 

"Give me the keys," Logan barked and Wade obliged. The way he had parked the SUV, the passenger side faced away from the bar and toward a wall. 

He followed Wade around to that side and pressed their bodies together against the car. Logan slammed his lips against Wade's, searching his mouth with his tongue, unsure what he was looking for. His hands crawled around Wade's back and he found his rough skin under his shirt.

The fire he hadn't realized had been building in his chest started to die out into embers. He had just needed to touch Wade. To feel him. To be anchored to the one familiar thing left. He pulled away. 

"Oh that's mean. Don't do that. Come back." Wade clutched at him, trying to pull him back. Logan moved in a little closer as a compromise. 

"Your skin looks the way it does because of 'super cancer,' apparently." Logan said. 

"Who told you this?"

"You did." Logan had printed the shorter text file from the thumb drive and pulled it out of his back pocket. Wade scanned over it. 

"Fuck. Okay. You did the same." Wade pulled a piece of paper from one of his side cargo pockets. Logan immediately recognized his own chicken-stratch writing. "Looks like we made a bet of some sort. Wonder what the wager was?"

"Found something else with the note." Logan looked away, thinking for a moment, deciding if this was the time and place. "It's a picture of us at a chapel with a marriage license. I think we might be married."

Wade's body froze underneath him. 

"No…no no no." 

"Do you not want to be married to me?" Logan asked, trying to push the strange edge of hurt out of his voice. 

"No, I do. I do? I do. That just…scared me. I think…hm…I wasn't ready to hear it…I…I don't know. Just this feeling…" He paused. Then he leaned forward and pecked Logan quickly on the lips, fingers touching Logan's jaw. "Let's go back to the hotel and sleep." He opened the door and climbed inside stiffly. On the other side of the door, Logan stared vaguely through the window, then moved around to the driver's side.

#####

Wade woke up pre-dawn with Logan wrapped around him, face pressed into his back. That wasn't how they went to sleep. 

Married married married married. 

  The idea rumbled in the back of his head. It didn't feel right. Everything else had felt right. This didn't. 

"If you're finally awake, let's get going," Logan murmured into his shoulder. 

"How long have you been up?" Wade asked. 

"A while."

"And you just…laid there? Like this?" Wade patted Logan's arm then turned underneath it to face him. 

"Yeah. It…felt nice." Logan squeezed him around the waist a little. 

"It feels like things are starting to come back. Little stuff. Mostly emotions."

"Yeah. I had a dream about a mini-van, then woke up with a hard-on. I don't know what that means, but it feels like a memory."

"That's a fuck of a memory."

I kinda like it. That's…that's sexy. 

I want to fuck this man SO HARD. 

Why am I so freaked out about marriage if this is how I feel? 

married married married. 

Logan squeezed his ass.

"Let's get going." 

"You're being a lot more affectionate with me, now." Wade kept watching Logan as he, himself, crawled out of bed. 

"Am I? I'm not really thinking about it. Maybe it's those memories coming back?"

"Is it because you think we're married?" Wade asked, keeping a little bit of distance. 

"You don't think we actually are?" 

"Did you see signatures on the license? And we have to file it, right?" 

An out. That's what I need. An out. A place to wiggle through this weird feeling.

"That is a good point that I didn't consider." Logan paused as he pulled his shirt over his head. "Is this something you're ready to talk about, yet?" 

no no no no no.

"No?" Wade tested. Logan nodded then continued pulling his shirt down. 

Why is this starting to feel so…normal? Why is that so scary?

Wade leaned his head against the window watching huge swatches of desert and scrubland pass.

bored bored bored bored

Every time he tried to reach into his brain for something to think about, he felt like he was working through sludge. He flicked on the radio. Country. Gospel. A few preachers screaming about whatever passed for God these days. 

"Oooh, classic rock." Wade let his hands drift back into his lap. Logan turned the volume down slightly. 

"I think the age on my license is a fib." He tapped the panel of the radio. "Because I remember seeing Led Zeppelin live. They played this. But I'm one-hundred percent an adult in my memory. Passing a joint with someone…" Logan stared out through the window, eyes narrowing. "1972. Who would I have been hanging out with in 1972?"

"I'm imagining the world's worst blunt rotation, right now, not gonna lie."

Man, he's old. OLD old. I felt like I knew that because I'm not freaked out by being a graverobber. 

Maybe I'm a gerontophile.

I know the word gerontophile, apparently. Don't think I could spell it, though.

G-e-r….a?

That's not right. 

A small chapel slunk by them in the distance. 

The memory this triggered slushed through his brain like a waterfall over boulders. Sharp and tumultuous and never ending. 

"We fought over getting married. Or being married. Not to each other, just in general. I was engaged at some point, and it went tits up. You apparently can't keep a relationship together at all without someone dying or becoming a super-villain."

"That hurts. Feels like the truth, though, so I guess I can't be mad."

"Right right right. So we decided that maybe we just weren't the marrying type, right now, but we…" Wade fell off. The memory broke here. The pieces of information fell away too far, just the emotions remaining. "Something happened there. We…resolved the marriage idea…but that led to a fight. Or a…a discussion? Raised voices. I think we were drunk."

"Can we get drunk?"

"Maybe high? Oh god, I don't know want to know what kind of drug actually gets us fucked up. Okay let me think."

"....after what we've been through."

"You really don't think it would have happened without…"

"I mean, infinite universes and whatever but…"

"...that spark, though…"

"...Not denying that. Just practical…catalyst…growing through…"

"You make it sound like trauma bonding."

"Maybe it was, at first, but that's fine, right? At this point?"

"Yeah but…"

The voices layered on top of each other. He couldn't tell who was who. He pressed his hands to his ears, trying to hear the voices again, but they slipped away. 

"We got caught in some kind of gang war on our anniversary," Logan said suddenly. "And we had a conversation about what we thought our lives would look like if we weren't fighting all the time. We thought we'd be bored.  And we were…talking to Storm about it while doing drills in the danger room. And she called us emotional masochists, and I said something back and oh…that…didn't go well. I remember that…I don't…remember the rest."

Then it got weird. I remember. Holy shit. 

All the questions we had no idea how to answer. 

If we weren't superheros, would we have anything in common? 

Did we only work so well together because we could both regenerate? 

We were going to live for so so so so so long? What did the rest of our lives look like?

Wade pressed his palms to his ears again, trying to pull up the conversation in his head. Trying to relive it. It was gone, though. All of it. The echo of the information remained, but the memory itself just slipped back into the ether. 

"We need to get to Vegas. This started there." Wade tapped his knuckles on the window. "This isn't fun anymore. 

#####

Vegas lost a lot of its shine pulling into the main drag in the middle of the afternoon. 

"Any of this looking familiar, babe?" Logan asked. The term of endearment sort of slipped out. Muscle memory. 

"There." Wade pointed through the window. "We were in that casino."

"Good enough for me."

Weekday at 2 pm was apparently optimal parking, and they were walking into the front of the casino within ten minutes. 

"Oh fuck, not you again." A security guard was the first to approach them, hand hovering near his gun. 

"No one likes to see us," Wade mused. 

"Considering everything we've remembered, so far, I'm less and less surprised." Logan held up his hands to the guard who still hadn't decided if he was going to shoot, yet. 

"We're just trying to find somebody," Logan said. "Someone we talked to while we were here last." 

"You know how many people come in and out of here?" The guard said. 

"But you remember us," Wade pointed out. 

"Fair," admitted the guard.

"You guys were talking to Dr. Tom." This voice was a young woman in a waitstaff uniform with an empty drink tray tucked under her arm. 

"And where do we find Dr. Tom?" Logan sighed. They were so close to the end of this. This stupid stupid wild goose chase. 

Dr. Tom, apparently, was a plastic surgeon, and worked out of an office not too far off the strip. A little light threat to his secretary got them back in Dr. Tom's office. 

"You can calm the fuck down," Dr. Tom said, gesturing to the chairs in front of his desk. None of them sat, and he gave up trying. "All I did was overhear you two talking about how it would be nice if you could forget for a while. I happened to point you to a friend of mine who happens to offer that service. People like to leave things in Vegas, sometimes."

"So you'll point us to this friend." Logan stepped forward. 

"Fucking yes. Just ask politely I'm not a super-villain, you weirdos. Jesus." Dr. Tom stepped back toward the wall. "But if you're going to go in there snapping out claws, I'm less-inclined to hand over the address. She's a good woman. She's trying to cure Alzheimer's and shit. That's how she figured out her compound. She uses the money she makes for research."

"Oh I hate when the antagonist is actually a good guy," Wade complained. 

"Okay," Logan agreed. "We just want to talk to her." 

This time they had to wait a few hours for her to get off work. They pulled up to a neatly aligned house out in the suburbs and the woman who greeted them, Dr. Charlotte Stone,  invited them freely into her garage. 

"Gentlemen! I'm so happy to see you again. Is it going well?"

"No," Wade said. 

"Surviving," Logan added. 

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that." Charlotte rerolled her hair into a bun and lowered the garage door behind them. "Did you put together letters and leave them in easy to find places?

They hovered weirdly in the center of her garage. Two walls were lab equipment, the third refrigerated storage. A computer station was tucked into the corner nearest the door into the house. 

"We did," Logan confirmed. "But I think we did it wrong. We didn't put in our notes why we did this memory…thing."

"You were trying to settle a bet, I believe, but let me see my notes." She pulled a binder down from a set of half cabinets. "Here we go. Let me pull up your video."

"Wait what? Video?" Wade moved forward, trying to peek over the top of the binder. She handed it over easily. "A lot of shorthand, so I don't know if you can read it."

Wade dropped the binder on the counter. 

"I can barely read, to start. I don't know why I bothered." 

Charlotte had moved to the computer, though, shifting focus. 

"Here you boys, go." She stepped back from the screen, and rotated it to them to see better. 

The video versions of themselves sat in their colored combat suits, bickering over who was going to explain. 

"It was my idea, I'll do it," said Video Wade. 

"Feels weird getting that confirmed," said real life Wade.

"I am convinced that we are soulmates. So in any universe, we would eventually meet and fall in love." Video Wade said.

"No you actually don't," video Logan corrected. "You're just trying to be contrarian." Video Logan turned flush to the camera again. "We've been having this much bigger conversation the past couple of months about the future of our relationship, which we'll --you'll remember again at some point. And I happened to say that I don't think that our relationship would look like it currently does without having gone through the things we went through. I didn't even say we wouldn't be together. Just…it'd be different."

"But you said it while we were in a wedding chapel," Video Wade said. "Feel like that changes the tone."

The screen versions of them bickered some more. 

"From this side of the screen, this argument looks really stupid," Wade said. 

"We look really upset, though," Logan noted. 

"You kind of were," Charlotte confirmed with a grim chuckle. "People only come to me when they think things are insurmountably dire and looking for a new perspective."

The video had started talking to them again, Wade staring down the camera. 

"We decided the only way to know for sure was to start from scratch. Wipe it all out and see what happens." Video Wade tapped the table they were sitting out with a sense of finality. There was a little more chatting, but the video seemed to have delivered all the important information.

"So how did this work?" Logan asked. "We have so many gaps."

"It's a series of liquid capsule pills depending on how much you want to get rid of and for how long. I gave you the first one to make sure you didn't have an immediate adverse reaction, then sent you off with the rest of the doses and instructions. Told you to do it in a safe place under the supervision of some friends. It's supposed to be a slow, gentle process to give you the option to stop at any time if it gets too weird. Guess you might not have…followed directions."

"Yeah, sounds like us," Wade sighed. 

"Okay. What's the plan to reverse it?" Logan shifted on his feet, nervous.

"Oh, it should wear off soon. Probably by tomorrow morning." 

"Thank God, okay. Okay." Logan clapped his hands, rubbing them together. "Then that's it. It's over. All that stress and mystery."

"Yeah." Wade shifted on his own feet. 

"Well did it work?" Charlotte asked.

"What do you mean?" Logan responded. 

"Did you figure out the thing you were looking for? This whole…soul mate thing?"

Logan rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. 

"We uh…we woke up in a shack in the middle of Arizona."

Charlotte made a face at that but let him continue.

"And uh." Logan looked for the words for half a moment. "And I'm pretty certain I, uh…I woke up already in love with him."

"Oh, I know I did," Wade agreed. 

"I told you that might happen. I can wipe experiential life stuff, but the really strong emotional triggers very frequently linger."

"Cool, so we didn't learn anything." Wade shuffled his feet on the raw garage floor. Charlotte shrugged at them. 

"I find that when the memories come back, you figure out whatever you were meant to. Even if it doesn't seem like it, at first." 

#####

"Not that I'm complaining about room service snowcrab, why are we holing up in a hotel with the strip literally right there?" Wade picked a bit of shell out of his teeth, a chip of it sneaking into the leg meat when he cracked it open. 

Logan had found a place to get cigars and was finishing one on the balcony. Evening was bringing more people through, making everything a little louder. A little busier. Logan stamped out the end of his cigar on the railing and came back inside, closing the glass door shut. Everything dropped to a dull thrum again, just the sound of 30 Day Fiance reruns playing in the background on the TV. 

"Charlotte said she couldn't explain all our actions with her pills, so the probably don't work the same for us." Logan wandered restlessly through the room, stopping in the doorway of the ensuite bathroom. "So we're staying put. At least until I can get a hold of Scott and the others."

"Where the fuck did they go? They were supposed to meet us here." 

"Fucking dragon came back or something. I don't know." Logan leaned back against the doorframe even harder. 

He looked so tired . 

Fuck he looks how I feel, so I must be a goddamn mess in comparison. 

Wade swayed up from his hotel lounger and moved across the room. He wrapped his arms around Logan's waist and pressed his face into Logan's chest. Logan returned the affection with his arms gently resting around Wade's hips. 

"Holy fuck, I didn't realize how big this bathtub was when we walked in." Wade pulled free and wandered over to it, sitting on the edge. "Fucking Jacuzzi jets. Holy shit."

Oh, I'm getting in this bitch, right now.

He immediately started moving his hands over the knobs and looking in the cabinets for something to put in the water. 

"Holy fuck they have bathbombs." 

holy fuck glitter

All the rest of his thoughts were just about getting the shrinkwrap open and getting into the water. Soaking in it. Soothing his nerve endings.

Some clothes hit the floor out of the corner of his eye, and he flicked over his shoulder. Logan had shucked off his shirt and was now working on his belt. 

uhhhhhhh?!? 

fuck fuck

Now he was thinking about other things than taking a bath. 

"What?" Logan said when he caught Wade staring. "It's big enough for two. I thought that was the point." 

"No you just went from 'don't fucking touch me' to making out against a car to cuddling to bathing together really really fast. Getting a little whiplash." 

"Sorry." Logan flicked his hands. "I don't know. Things are just starting to feel normal again, so I'm just…I don't know. If you don't-" 

"Oh no. Now that you've started, you better take those fucking pants off." The crown-shaped bath bomb burst in swirls of pink glitter and shimmer. Wade dropped his eyes as Logan got in the water, something too overwhelming about seeing him naked all at once right now. 

His dick has been in my mouth. 

My dick has been in his mouth. 

We've been inside each other in so many different ways. 

calm the fuck down 

His body made the motions  on auto-pilot, stripping off his clothes and sliding into the water. Then through the water to sidle into the space between Logan's thighs. The instant their naked bodies pressed against each other, a year of touch memory flooded his body. 

hands touching, knuckles brushing

blades in my body, me begging for it

pressing inside me, thrusting hard, over and over

his soft, pulsing insides

teeth on flesh and flesh on teeth

"Fuck," Wade whispered, parting his knees around Logan's hips, wrapping his arms around Logan's shoulders so he didn't slide back into the water. 

I'm so hard. Oh god. I've never been this hard in my life.

Wade didn't even ask before slipping his hand down between them and taking both their cocks in his hand. Logan wasn't quite so hard to start, but that changed immediately.

"Wade," Logan cooed into his ear. "This wasn't necessarily the idea when I got in here."

"You don't get to be sexually sanctimonious on me. I can remember some things now. I talk a big game, but you're actually ten times hornier than me." He grabbed Logan's chin in his hand. "And we get the chance to have a first time again. How cool is that?" 

Logan rolled his face into Wade's neck. 

"I'm not saying 'no', I'm saying lean back."

Logan hinged forward, moving Wade into position below him, straddling Wade's lap. His mouth covered his, nipping and gnawing at Wade's lips, tongue flicking over Wade's gums and teeth. 

inside me

inside him

hard against hard, soft against soft, hard against soft

Logan lifted a little, hinging off the bottom of the tub at his knees. His hand came around Wade's cock and he pressed the tip to his entrance. 

"Oh baby girl don't go in raw," Wade gasped. 

"I'll trust the healing factor," Logan growled back, then eased down slowly on Wade's length until he settled at the base. "Okay, that actually hurts a lot more than I expected, you're right." He pressed his forehead to Wade's. "Ah. Okay. Okay. Fuck." He rolled his hips in a small circle, running up and down a half pulse on Wade's cock. "That's better. Okay. Yeah. Ah. That's good."

Logan kissed him again, this time quick and chaste, of all fucking things. 

"How does it feel, Wade?" Logan hissed. "Do I feel good inside?"

"Oh, I think I might die and eject everything from my body if you talk like that again." Wade clenched around Logan's hips and waist, nails digging into his skin and the muscle and fat and tissue underneath. Then Logan properly started moving, shifting up and down on his strong thighs and calves. 

I'm gonna get my memories back just to die from a cardiac arrest. 

"Why did you change your mind? About…about doing this while our memories are shot? About…everything…" Wade had to concentrate on the words, but he needed to say them. He needed to hear it out loud.

Logan whined and panted as he spoke, throat tight over the words, voice sparking at the top every time he dropped down. 

"You said you would fold to a one night stand with me, no question. I imagined the same thing. Meeting you in a bar. You sitting down…hah…next to me. Buying me another round of whatever I was having. You'd probably annoy the shit out of me, at first, but the fact is after a little while I'd probably start thinking you're kind of funny. Kind of…nhg…kind of cute. And if you flirted with me and asked me to go home with you, I would have probably done it. We would have fucked, and it would have been hot. So why hold back, at this point?" 

"So you agree we're soul mates? "

"I agree that we're two horny idiots who can do this to each other without getting hurt." Along the top of the water, he clicked out his blades, jabbed them into Wade's ribs, then pulled back. Wade squealed.

fuck shit fuck fuck. 

It is so fucked up how good that feels.

"So given certain variables, I see us drifting together for some real kinky sex, at minimum. I don't know how the other stuff works, just yet." He gripped Wade around the chin and pulled his face up to kiss him again. "Any other concerns? Because I'd like to keep going without having to think so hard."

"No, I'm…I'm good…" 

Wade's hips started bucking up into Logan, trying to sink even deeper into him as Logan came down. The water sloshed out of the tub, swirling around their conjoined bodies and swishing into the in between spaces in a constant rhythm. He grasped for Logan's cock and started hurried, desperate strokes. 

"Slow down, baby. I wanna come together." Logan buried his face into the side of Wade's head. 

This feels…feels….feels…

…different…

soft and hard, hard and soft

They didn't normally do it like this. He could feel the shape of that. That weird combination of familiarity and novelty. His muscle memory wasn't kicking in, so he was falling back on intuition and guesswork and being an adult with, presumably, at least an ounce of sexual experience. 

He spread his free around the outside of Logan's ass, willing him to sink lower, to bury Wade deeper inside. Logan sensed the desire and somehow got his body to drop even farther, to open even more for Wade. 

The orgasm almost snuck up on him, the heat and weight of the water distracting all his other never endings. He started stroking Logan again, taking to a speed he somehow knew would bring him there. Logan arched forward, hands gripping the edge of the tub on either side of Wade's head. His hips moved from a pulse to a grind. Wade moved faster. 

Wade came hard inside, pulling from the tops of his aching feet and toes and clenching his teeth.

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

Logan let out a guttural howl. Then there was a sharp metal sound that clanked against porcelain. The sidewall of the tub collapsed against Wade's shoulders. 

"Fuck." The plug was to his left, and he slammed the switch open to drain the tub. He sat up, still inside, bringing Logan along with a hand around his back. Logan's claws were still out. Wade touched them. 

"Peanut. The claws."

"Right, yeah." Logan, however, was staring at the backside of the tub. "I didn't totally break it. It's still containing the water." Logan dropped his arms around Wade's shoulders. "That was fast on the draw for the plug."

"I have a sneaking suspicion this has happened before." 

"Hm." Logan trailed his fingers up and down Wade's spine. "Wanna go again?"

"Five minutes. Then I'm bottom this time. So get ready for me to be as bratty as possible."

#####

"Loooooooooogan." It was mid-morning. His boyfriend's voice was in his ear. His boyfriend's teeth were nipping at his skin. His boyfriend's hand was on his chest, now it was sliding down his stomach. 

"I'm spent, babe," Logan said. 

"I know, honey-suckle just trying to get your attention." Wade rolled on top of him, hooking his leg over Logan's hip. "We're not married. The license you found was, like…a gag gift. A souvenir. We never actually had them send it to the registrar..

"Yeah, I remembered while your mouth was around my dick." 

Wade gently tossed his phone across to the other side of the bed.

"I found the text thread where I was pranking Laura with it." 

"I don't think you ever showed me what she said.

"She said she was going to call me 'step-daddy' in a way that made everyone around us as uncomfortable as possible." Wade rubbed his forehead against his chest. 

"That's my girl," Logan chuckled. "Haven't remembered why we were in Arizona, yet, though."

"Yeah. See. So I actually remember that pretty well, now. Um. I had the idea that we should be completely and totally away from anyone and anything we knew when we finished the memory wipe. I knew about a safehouse outside Ajo from my pre-cancer merc days. We just didn't make it, I think. Saying it back, though, I'm not following my own logic."

"Yeah, I have a memory of watching you snort a line of cocaine, but me not stopping you. So I think something about that first pill she gave us really fucked us up."

"Yeah, I'm remembering mostly everything, but there's about three days where the timeline just isn't…it just isn't, you know what I mean?" 

"I think we're going to have to accept that some stuff isn't going to come back." 

"I'm fine with that. All the important stuff did." Wade rested his face into the crook of Logan's neck. "So…how are we feeling? Now that we know why we did this?"

"I feel like we're idiots," Logan replied. 

"Yeah…I actually do feel…extremely dumb holy shit Charlotte was right. I'm having such extreme clarity about everything. It's like going on an ayahuasca trip but worse, somehow."

Logan rolled over and pressed Wade into the mattress. He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him. Wade stared up through his eyelashes up at him. Logan wrapped his hand around Wade's side. 

"I think it's going to be a very long time before we retire from being badasses and have to worry about not having anything in common. So we can wait to worry about that then."

"Oh, you're assuming we'll still be together when we're old and decrepit ugly."

"I intend to be handsome 'til I die, so whatever you want to do is up to you." Logan pressed his lips to Wade's forehead. "But I know for a fact I'm having too much fun to voluntarily stop this any time soon. So unless you die on me…"

Wade lifted up and pecked him on the lips. 

"Which we both know is extremely difficult. So, yeah, no. You're going to be stuck with me forever. Sucks to be you."

"Sucks to be me." Logan dropped down to lie on top of Wade, tucking his arms underneath him. Wade's arm came up around his back and he scratched his nails across Logan's skin.

"You know, we could leave Las Vegas properly married. Just make the appointment."

"Nah," Logan replied. "When we get married I want to do it properly. I want to remember everything."

"Hm." Wade replied, humming low and deep. 

#####

When we get married. Not if. When. 

when when when when when when

When.   

[rotting-ink]

How would the ros react to the witch telling them they're free use all the time? 😏

Hi Raven :>

L Rawlins: FLUSHES. Grumbles that it's not necessary, they're not some beast that needs relieving at all times. Holds out of a few days, always thinking about your proposition. Sees you up one morning, obviously... Available to them. They can't help it. They fold their body over yours and start to touch you but before too long they're releasing stress, Loralei riding you/tribbing and Luther roughly fucking deep inside of your hole. Then they become used to it, at least sleepily pawing you every morning and getting to release some stress before the day even starts.

S Della Rovere- Smirks at you, "Well, so am I." Amps up pawing at you, wanting you to make the first move of needing them to release your urges. Flashes you, drags their hand over your thighs and back. The moment you break, however? It's on. Fucking you endlessly, finding you arousing even at your most mundane activities. Will be all over you at events, pulling you upstairs and making you fuck by the banisters over looking the party, at meetings, pulling you into alleys. They're insatiable.

Z Chambers-Startled and embarrassed. They have a somewhat low sex drive and would murmur that they'd rather you use them as you see fit. However, some days they come up behind you and starts to touch you, your chest, your genitals, your ass, just NEEDING to cup and pinch and then proceeding to kissing. Riles you up so much and then finally fucks you.

V De Winters- Grins at you. Murmurs that you're perfect. Will fuck you all over the place. At their place, in public, at the opera, unable to keep their hands off you. Likes to tease you before hand though, dragging their gloved fingers over your thighs and side of your neck.

Seir- Well, you're never gonna get them out of you now. Wakes up with your genitals being pleasured. Loves to give you oral, as it gives them a huge amount of pleasure right back. Lapping at your holes before going further. Also insists that you treat them the same.

Saleos- So fucking smug. Big smirk. "As it should be." Wants you in a collar and naked most days and getting to fuck you whenever they want? Perfect. They treat you just the same but also tells you you need to ask so nicely if you want sex from them.

Starling Knight- A bit surprised. Grips your chin and makes you look at them in the eyes. "Alright. I'll take you up on that." Then for ages you aren't touched or used sexually. Just kissed gently and touched chastely. Then one night they come home, obviously stressed and just pulls you over their lap. Spends their night ruining you, teasing you, not stopping till you've cum too many times, on the verge of tears. They are obviously releasing stress just by doing this, going from a deep set scowl into a small, tranquil smile as they touch you.

A Lancaster- Eyes you. "You are a lustful creature, aren't you?" But smirks. Yeah, they fuck you a lot. Directly before patrol, after it, before meetings, usually after them, when they see someone else sniffing around you. Likes touching you stealthily at events and such. Smug.

E Rawlins- God lord do you even want to leave the house ever again? Their sex drive is insane and seeing you makes their rabies brain go into over drive. Every day, humping at you, licking you, biting you. Would fuckin love to go to their family home, where L stays and fuck you on most beds in the manor. Outside, inside, in alleys. Insists that you also use them but cmon, you're getting plenty just off THEIR drive.

Quincy Beaumont- Stares. Then grins. "Is that so?" Has you plugged up with toys all day. Loves seeing you shift and wriggle and they know why. Murmurs to you that you were the one who offered, so they simply must make sure you're always ready for them. Loves to take you backstage to the opera in the intermission, pull the toys from you and rUIN you, hissing for you to moan to the rafters to everyone knows what's happening. Kisses you on the forehead and sends you back to your seat when they go back on stage.

D Woolf- They blush from their ears down to their throat. Embarrassed. Mumbles something and hides behind a book and scampers. You will wake up time to time with your thighs all messy, since they'd be too embarrassed to properly do any penetration and would be happy riding or fucking your thighs!

[phlurrii]

I cannot sleep and I am curious about your take on this random conundrum I am faced with that I was wondering your take on because I love how you are able to depict dynamic movement and action in your art and animations.

So, I absolutely LOVE it when the typically cutesy being that is Mew is depicted as a feral godly beast and I am so utterly in love with Meau’s truly powerful design. An absolute apex predator. However, my brain is hung up on a frustrating detail. If they weren’t floating everywhere all the time how would they like… prowl? Or chase down something. They’ve got these nubby little arms and these looooong legs.

Like. I’m trying SO hard to imagine something that could anatomically work because as eery as floating can be there’s something satisfying about feeling in the weight of a creature through its gait. But all I can picture with their body shape is…hopping. Just a murderous psychic kangaroo cat god bounding towards something but like…It’s kind of silly? I’m sure irl that would probably be absolutely terrifying to see a kangaroo bouncing at you with malicious intent but… it’s hard to picture it as an intimidating movement.

The slow predatory prowl or the fast thumps of heavy clawed paws of something huge and large sharp teeth that quadrupeds have is so a satisfying in a heart racing way. I WANT a Mew or Mew-ish creature to be able to have that vibe while connected to the earth that but then I look at those LONG footers and nub paws and I…I’m left feeling like it’s not possible.

Even for Meau like…their arm to leg ratio…I don’t think it’s possible to run on all 4s. Naruto-run sure. Absolutely. All the mews and twos can Naruto run and kangaroo-hop with them leggies…but none of them move with the “tiger on the hunt in the forest” vibes. I want to make something close to that but I keep making something too permanently quadrupedal in anatomy.

Sorry for the tired brain rambling I just my brain won’t let me sleep because of it’s “How would Meau run down their prey on foot” thoughts sending me in a spiral.

You see- you see, I have the same. Exact, brain worms. Constantly.

When I made the Ancient mew, I wanted something feral, a physical threat. That happens to be psychically able to obliterate you as a side treat. In my earliest comics, I tried so hard to demonstrate she was a power house, so much so her mega evolution is entirely just… that. A massive, wall of steel. Meau tore those scientists limb from limb, literally, with her jaw. Even in mew form, she bitch slapped a nidoking with her tail and kangaroo kicked a persian. She could’ve just shadowballed them, sure, but I want that weight. That feral energy, that sense of an unstoppable force, meeting an immovable object, except it’s just one cat and they are about to flatten you.

As her design has clearly evolved, I’ve tried to make alterations that fit this feeling, that vibe of apex predator no matter the size. She’s larger then average because she’s a threat, she’s more muscular because she’s a threat, her tail is thicker, packed with said muscle because she’s a threat, her front paws are meaty and girthy because She’s. A. Threat. Her entire mega evolution is just amping up that primal energy of raw, unadulterated strength. That’s why I made it, it was my first freaking thought after I designed her XD

I was actually caught between animating a younger Meau acting like a mew or an current Meau acting like a threat. I went with younger Meau cuz we don’t see a lot of her and she’s about to come up with Noe’s arc. So if you sent me this lovely and viciously relatable brain dump 3 days ago, I probably would’ve swayed to animate feral meau XD

But, to answer your question, yes. She can absolutely hunt you down on all fours and disembowel you with her jaw, she is that untamed, wild concentration that kills with a sleek efficiency fellow gods fear. And! At the end of our current arc we’ll finally get that secondary typing reveal I’ve had planned since April XD

[fandomcrazy6226]

Liveblogging Dracula Daily - May 8

Hey look at that, I'm actually caught up! Or I will be as soon as i post this. Currently sitting in the choir room at my school (there's a surprisingly comfortable couch) and still trying to kill off this sore throat.

I'm worried I won't be able to actually sing during tech rehearsal today, but if I have to I have to because being there and not singing is better than not going (I'm ensemble so it's not that much of a problem if I can't sing for one day)

Anyway, on to today's actual update! It feels like about the time for the tension to start amping up, so I'm excited to see where this goes!

Scared you're the only one living in the castle? I mean fair, considering. Oh god he cut himself. Oh yeah, no reflections! Ha, blood makes the man crazy, and The Power Of Christ Compels You chills him out. Um. That's rude. Just throw a man's mirror out the window.

I love how quickly it goes from "Hey this guy looked demonic at the sight of my blood and threw my mirror out a window" to "wow the scenery of the mountains is so pretty"

Castle prisoner. Beauty and the Beast comparisons continue. Has someone drawn Jonathan in Belle's dress? If not someone should get on that

Good on you, buddy. Making a plan, staying calm, using your brains. Good job, you're doing better than about 80% of horror protagonists.

I knew it! He was the driver! Yeah, and things kinda go off the rails at this point I'm guessing. Stuff's being figured out!

Ok I had to look up what "boyar" meant, basically a high-ranking Russian aristocrat, same level as a prince. Huh, Norse gods. That's interesting.

Good. God. That was so many words. "no more war, too much pure blood is spilled, something something I am descended from Atilla the Hun" that's about what I got out of it.

And yes Jonathan, you should stop staying up all night. Get better sleep!

PREVIOUS / NEXT

[thesinglesjukebox]

TROYE SIVAN - "RUSH"

Poppers, to two decimal places.

[6.83]

Rachel Saywitz: Heathens, debauchers, partakers of libations, gather round, for this is a story most foul. It's a titillating tale of delight, a sensuous account of the sweetest carnal pleasures. For here bare buttocks were slapped, saliva was swapped, and crotches were lit aflame. And on this most sinful of nights, the boomiest of bass ran pounded a skinny man with undead eyes. Yes, this was the God-hating demon himself. Using his nasal tone to elevate the most traditional of club beats into a sexual paradise. Giving his catchiest hook to a gaggle of men, no doubt caught under his spell. Beware this evil-doer. For he makes even the straightest of people fall into his gaze. Under any circumstances, do not feel the rush. [8]

Nortey Dowuona: Xander went through a lot in that series. He got his music career ground into nothingness before he became an adult, got shocked into incoherence by a lame who has a godawful ponytail, got cussed with homophobic lies, it's great to hear him launch off these exciting house drum programming that gets so big in the mix he kinda has to be - wait, his name is Troye? Wow, what else did they take -- he had an actual singing career and acting career before this. He's never been named Xander? decided to just dance to the song and fix the blurb later, never does [8]

Oliver Maier: Sivan's a curious export to me, a mostly middling songwriter who converts more and more fans each cycle simply by existing, like the Luigi who wins by doing absolutely nothing of pop music. I don't begrudge him it, I just don't see his angle. "Rush" is a certifiable Big Tune™, but to me that has more to do with the shouty lads on the hook than Troye, who flits around like a cherubic chaperone. [7]

Will Adams: So the solution to my problem with Troye's just-okay voice (besides Hot Chip remixes) is to baton pass the chorus to a full Village People chant. Brilliant! It's the cherry on a just-too-tailored piano-house instrumental, which makes me think that maybe he should phone Disclosure for some collabs. [6]

Katherine St Asaph: A rare show of genuine tension and heat from Troye Sivan. But that's not due to Troye so much as the heady fog of reverb and posse of mega-masc guys he surrounds himself with. [7]

David Moore: It's too late for me to grok Troye Sivan's whole deal, I think, but this reminds me of the fake-seeming dance tracks I constantly pull from Spotify's new music playlists, most of which are designed for Dance Mode [picture of purple disco ball] and Beast Mode [picture of buff shirtless man holding dumbbells] and presumably many other Modes that I can't imagine this particular song hyping me up for or, more accurately, helping me to survive with only minor shoulder injuries. [4]

Will Rivitz: Free us from the tyranny of gang vocals. [5]

Michael Hong: Not really a radical reinvention -- if "Dance to This" were dialed to a 5, then this is amped up to a measly 7, and Troye's been way more explicit with underage hookups and poorly disguised flower metaphors -- but damn if this isn't fun. [7]

Thomas Inskeep: Why isn't Troye Sivan an international, honest-to-goodness, radio-saturating popstar?! (Spoiler alert: it's because he's so openly gay in his lyrics, which in 2023 is absurd but there you fucking go.) Sivan's vocals here are simultaneously confident and dreamy, and goddamn, "Rush" is so swoony it actually feels like the rush you get meeting someone on a dancefloor and just connecting, immediately. And also, I mean, poppers; he clearly knows of what he sings. [8]

Wayne Weizhen Zhang: This summer, after seeing Barbie & Renaissance in the same day, my friend found poppers on the floor of our favorite drag bar that were so strong that I'm convinced to this day that I have brain damage. Was it a coincidence that this happened two weeks after the release of this song? I think not. [7]

Ian Mathers: In everything I'd read about the Troye Sivan album I don't recall seeing anyone mention "he sometimes sounds a bit like Friendly Fires now" and honestly I would have liked to have had that information. [9]

Alfred Soto: I would've liked Troye Sivan as a model. Introverted but not shy, fluent in the ways in which a life of constructing an identity on one's phone brings new adventures and stirs up familiar fears, Sivan isn't coy. "Rush," though, reminds me of Jessie Ware's latest album: the forced euphoria of a camp counselor with two weeks to go before the end. [5]

Jacob Sujin Kuppermann: An all-time great song to jump up and down and chant along to. To make beautifully head-empty pretty bro music like this is a true gift that must not be squandered. [9]

Leah Isobel: "Rush" is suitably aerodynamic, with the exception of its blocky football-chant chorus. It's like a beer commercial plopped into a DJ set, and its masculinity comes across as glib compared with the airy pianos and bouncy bongos. But I get that Troye is the chronicler of emotional distance within intimacy, and I like that he takes some time out from huffing poppers with the boys to wink, "This shit is so much fun"; that's the kind of distance that feels true, the moment when your brain surfaces just long enough to realize how ridiculous it is to be a body in space. [6]

Brad Shoup: The video version offers a deal: you get a post-chorus without violent panning between fore- and background, but also a comedown outro about loving "with reciprocity". I'll take the wispy original, which tries to bulk up with a great bro chorus but ultimately glides around corners, pleading for pleasure. ("Kiss it when you're done" is such a good line. I can't get over it.) Also, two-and-a-half minutes is the right duration for this kind of churning yet weightless pop-house encounter. [7]

Crystal Leww: There's a Tiktok floating around where a girl asks where are the men who like women who look like Troye Sivan. While it's extremely funny, it also speaks to the fact that there's a real dearth of men in Western pop who are out here popping their pussy and putting their whole back into it. "Rush" is a full pop song with a curated, cohesive vibe throughout the song, a hook that doesn't stick out in a sea of blah before and after it, and a choreographed silly little dance that Troye and his boys do. The bar is in hell -- we're lucky we at least have "Rush." [6]

Alex Ostroff: On the Something to Give Each Other press tour, Troye pointedly raved about how inspired he is by Janet. Intriguingly, his standom doesn't focus on her Imperial Phase: Not her declaration of Control, the politics of Rhythm Nation 1814, nor the personal discovery of janet. Not even The Velvet Rope's blend of the internet, queer activism, kink & self-empowerment which left such an indelible mark on the last decade of R&B and underground dance music. No, when asked for his three favourite Janet songs, Troye's picks are 'Together Again", "All Nite (Don't Stop)" and "SloLove." Two-thirds of those are from Damita Jo, Janet's horniest record. Damita Jo featured "Warmth" and "Moist," back-to-back odes to fellatio and cunnilingus so explicit that Janet cut them from the clean version altogether. That feels right for the Troye era that launched with "Rush." It's not that Troye hasn't explored sexuality before -- Bloom's title track is famously a bop about bottoming, after all -- but those were his takes on "Let's Wait Awhile," "Anytime, Anyplace," or the psychosexual therapy moments on Velvet Rope, where sex was a window into his emotional state and romantic relationships. Here, Troye just delves into the joy of spontaneous lust and delivers a femme top anthem where his masc bros chant about wanting your touch. He whispers "Breathe '1, 2, 3' / take all of me" and instructs you to "Kiss it when you're done". Like Damita Jo, 'Rush' can sometimes feel uncomfortable or cringey (is the glory hole 12" vinyl packaging too much or exactly enough?), but it also undeniably fucks. [8]

Joshua Minsoo Kim: Earlier this year, a relatively popular musician saw a tweet I made that called their music bad, and responded with a quote tweet that derisively called me a twink. It was wonderful. I have never been called a twink before, and never will be again given my body type, but it started to make me think about all the things I'll never experience in life because of the ways in which we play into type when it comes to sex. Or maybe that's just me being pessimistic. Anyways, how about those meatheads chanting here? [6]

[Read, comment and vote on The Singles Jukebox]

[audio-luddite]

Unscheduled swap.

The Harman Kardon is in the rack. The ARC is on the floor upside down with its bottom cover off.

We were just grooving to some 1970s music when it went quiet. Lights on the front of the big amp went dark. The line fuse failed? Huh???

No weirder than that. The fuse holder gave out. It may have been fiddled with before as there was solder inside where none should be. So I got the old HK Citation 12 from its place of rest. I wrestled out the ARC. Fk it is heavy, and put the tiny HK in its place.

They are both rated at 60 Watts per side. 1960s versus 1990s.

At first oh shit what is that sound? Harsh, tinny. Cold transistors? By the time I got my soldering gun (yes gun, tiny irons are for girls) and pulled the old bakelite (??) fuse thing out the HK had got WAY better.

The upturned tuber looks like a monster spilled its guts. Gobs of wires and fancy yellow capacitors. Poor thing. Of course I will find a new panel mount fuse holder. Hey two the other one is old too. The wires in there are tight bundles. I should have her back together tomorrow. There is an AUTOPARTS store that has the part nearby.

So the HK is settling down. Just finished side 2 of pawnshop. The big difference is the lovely golden textures have been replaced by white light. Not harsh, just not as pretty. Right now I am playing Herb Alpert's Rise as I played it last night. Same thing.

Also the Bass is how transistors are supposed to work. More solid and all that. Strangely not as deep?? The speakers may like the tuber. The funky textures are missed. Oh and some details are back. In pawnshop the crowd was more distinct and yes ice in the glasses.

The HK is not as good as the Franken amp I think. I may have to play Cowboy Junkies. Tiny details have not revealed themselves yet.

But you know the little beast was designed in 1960 something. It is dual mono. One power cord, but inside there are two completely separate amplifiers. They were reaching even back then. Okay Mr Alpert is playing a flugelhorn now. I dint notice that before.

Hey 1960s were not that bad. This is a fair fight.

Junkies. Track one. The stupid noise is there. Track two the Bass is more recessed. The vocal is clear. Oh very clear. Margo does not sound so lispy. Mr Harman has nothing to apologize for.

Yes it is different. I can see exactly why people yearn for the golden sound of the tubes. It aint right or better, just prettier. Photographers like to shoot in the golden hours. Just after sunrise, and just before sunset. The light has less blue and makes skin look richer. All those swimsuit shoots do that. It aint as honest as midday light.

OK Acid Test. Side 4 Cowboy Junkies LP. Sweet Jane. Bass bang on. I think my brain is adjusting to the sound a bit. Clean clear. The guitar is far left clear, clean. Shit the high hats dead centre perfect metallic.

Postcard blues. DEEP bass from the foot tap. Not as organic as the ARC. Margo is right there! I can hear her lips part. Oh yes the harmonica, damn. This is an amazing album. GET IT Droogs! Margo just took a breath like a real human. This is good.

I will put the ARC back in for a couple days once I fix it. Then the Franken-Amp gets his turn.

[furryshakespeare]

I woke up one night in a cold sweat with this name in my brain.

[racingtoaredlight]

The King of Guitars: The Gibson Super 400

I've written this exact same post before, I'm sure of it.

I own the greatest guitar I've ever played...my teacher's 1999 Brad Nickerson Virtuoso. And I've played just about every version of Gibson's great archtop lineup, from just about every decade from the 40's to today.

Of all of the guitars I've played in my life, the two that stick out as decade-long memorables is my Nickerson and a 1979 Gibson Super 400 that I played for about 30 minutes at the Dallas Guitar Show in Arlington in 2006.

1979 wasn't an especially banner year for Gibson, and even though their archtops were always made by a small, specialized crew separate from the rest of their manufacturing, it was still affected by the Norlin group's changes over the decade. This particular model was a good example of that...the back and sides were plain maple with no figure (much cheaper) and the neck showed some figure, but was pretty unremarkable itself.

Figure is purely aesthetic and doesn't mean the sound isn't there. Just because this crew had less pretty materials to work with did not mean their output suffered like the main division of Gibson Guitars. This 1979 Super 400 was ALIVE.

When you play an archtop that has the pickups and controls mounted directly on the soundboard, it essentially compromises the acoustic qualitys of the instrument. When you play a guitar with these, the first sign you have something special is if you play it acoustically and are blown away. This was the case here, even in a crowded, noisy expo center.

The electric tone was superb, as expected, and the guy running the booth let me run with it for as long as I wanted. This was probably when I was at my best as a guitarist, period...I'd been at this event for seven hours already and was totally warmed up...I bonded with this guitar immediately and the flow from my brain through my fingers had zero obstacles.

The guy was cool with me playing because I had gathered a nice sized crowd who were also checking out his other stuff. And I know I've told this story a million times before, but this is the booth where I looked up and saw John Mayer go "wow" while watching me play. The singular highlight of my non-existent career.

I was just lost in having a blast playing one of these beasts. It was such a wonderful experience that almost 20 years later, I still remember the feel of the neck, the sound coming out of the amp, the faint smell of stale cigarette smoke, the rough patches starting to form on the back of the neck where the previous owner played the most.

Super 400's are big boy guitars. The L-5 on the left is a standard sized archtop...which are already the behemoths of the guitar world...and you can see how that extra 1" on the Super 400 makes for an overall much larger instrument even then.

Midget meme jokes aside...these instruments are playable for people under 6' with shorter wingspans...but they're not very comfortable. For bigger guitarists, they're fine, but you can't escape the size issues even then. Things like "cases" and "travel" are an expensive pain in the ass with regular archtops...even more so with the Super 400.

Both the L-5 and Super 400 have necks larger than Gibson's typical short scale. You may think this doesn't matter...it does immensely. The nut width is as wide as you'll find on electric guitars (except for years 1966-1968 where they adopted a slim neck and nut before going back). This is not great stuff if you have small hands or aren't trained and precise. If that's the case...you'll struggle to get any decent sound out of these things.

The other biggest drawback? Price and availability.

Those "cheaped out" versions in the 70's with less figured woods? That's your entry point. And that entry point is five figures. $10k for the pleasure of getting the "runt of the litter." Modern models in the 80's made by James Hutchins? $12k to start.

Player-grade 60's models? $15k. Mint 60's and player-grade 50's models closer to $17,500. Mint 50's models are in the low $20k's. Any model with a sharp Florentine cutaway (below)...lol...$30k to start. Add 10% to all of those if they're natural instead of sunburst. Add another 10% to that if they have a pickguard that hasn't been destroyed by sitting in a case and getting eated by off-gassing. Yes, for a pickguard.

That's a hefty investment.

Say you want it shipped...you comfortable with the standard cases from the 50's made out of flimsy plywood? The ones that can get crushed and penetrated without much force at all? Didn't think so.

But those standard fiberglass or carbon fiber cases for $1,500 won't work...because again, the size...and you'll have to pay for a premium one that you won't be gambling on in transit. And you'll still have to pay for that other case to get shipped separately because you gotta have the original to retain its value.

Just how many downsides can I name? There's more. They feedback at medium-volumes easily. They need proper humidification at all times. They need insurance. There's no 3rd party market for most replacement parts...either they're going to be expensive to replace or the replacements will diminish the value.

By all contexts, the Super 400 is a pretty un-ideal guitar here in 2023. The reason it's so big to begin with was because it was designed to cut through big bands acoustically in the 40's...but when you put humbuckers on, you don't really need that size anymore.

All that doesn't matter because it's the sound. You don't NEED that extra size, but it definitely impacts the sound compared to an L-5. It's deeper, richer, more complex. And that's really all that matters in the end...the sound.

There is no ideal sound I'm going for. Currently, I have archtops with a floating humbucker (Nickerson) and a floating fat, high output single coil (Guild Artist Award)...a built-in humbucker sounds totally different, and that's what I want to fill out my stable.

Go to 1:16 in the video below.

Like I said, that sound is all that matters.

Well, and the looks.

I'll have one in the next 3-5 years.

[misslacito]

Calendario Mercedes-Benz Fashion Week Madrid Otoño Invierno 2020 El calendario de la pasarela madrileña ya está aquí. Renueva su imagen y me parece precioso. Ya era hora de un lavado de cara porque llevaban unos años cambiando los colores pero siempre con el mismo estilo.

[itshouldvebeenme30]

The Reaper's Keeper

CHAPTER 7 - FOUND AGAIN

Chapter Summary: Raiding Strucker's base lead them back to you.

Pairings: Avengers x Fem!Reader, Natasha x Fem!Reader, Wanda x Fem!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of angst and drug use (sedative)

⧗──────────────────────────⧗

"Report to your stations immediately. This is not a drill. We are under attack." The twins could only watch the soldiers scramble to their feet. They knew it wasn't the time yet but they couldn't wait to get their hands on the Avengers. 

They watched in the corner as Strucker and his scientist argued. "The twins are not ready yet," they overheard Strucker say.  Having decided that they're much more capable of handling the Avengers themselves, they didn't hear the command that followed when they went outside to join the battle.

"Deploy Scythe, instead." 

Their words rang inside your head. The thoughts inside scattered and scrambled after resisting them for so long. Realizing that it wasn't enough to make you compliant, they fried your brain over and over for as long as they could.

Your lifeless eyes gazed directly back at the man in front of you as soon as the notebook was closed. 

"Goodmorning Scythe."

"Ready to comply." 

Soldiers aiming their weapons at you become at ease. 

"I have a mission for you..."

⧗──────────────────────────⧗

"Clint's hit!" Natasha exclaims as she falls down beside Clint. She let out a shaky sigh while barking orders over her earpiece and pressing into his wound. She made sure he was settled before he was brought to the jet.

"Time for lullaby," she said as she moved around looking for the green beast, but what she saw terrified her. The Hulk is slumped and knocked down as the petite figure towered over him. Soon, its gaze found Natasha, and she swore she knew that pair of eyes before. 

But before she could think of anything, you strode fiercely to her. Natasha could only run for her life. "Hulk's been compromised! There's an enhance bein-" she was interrupted when she was flung a few good feet on the snow.

"Natasha?! Where are you?!"  

There was a blur on the line of her sight before she felt herself being lifted up by the collar. Her eyes widened in fear as this being is too strong for her- or anyone at this time being. Not giving up without a fight, she tried to rip off the mask. She succeeded, but the blood on her face drained as soon as your face welcomed her.

"Y-Y/N?" her voice is small. She couldn't believe that they would ever find you again. But she did not like that this is where you were the whole time.

"Who's Y/N?"

You scrutinized her for a moment before deciding to throw her off again. But a struck of the lightning on your left both sent you flying and lost your grip on the redhead.

Natasha wheezed at the impact and felt a strong grip gently pulling her up. 

"I'm sorry Lady- err Natasha, are you okay?" Thor first examined her before protecting her from the person who had hurt her. 

"T-Thor... it's Y/N" He heard her say, but he couldn't help but be shocked when the figure in front of him appeared.

"L-lady Y/N? What are you-" you sent a strong kick on his stomach that made him stumble down. Natasha, behind, has already distanced herself and aims her widow bites at you.

"Y/N... I don't know what's going on, but please come back." Your attention went back to her, but her pleas fell silent on your ears. 

"Don't make me do this." She amped the bites to the highest setting, which is lethal on the scale of a human being. She knows it won't hurt you but hopes it'll wake you up and recognize her.

She shoots at your torso and sees you wincing lightly, which is a good sign for her. She shoots again, but this time on your chest twice. The electrocution surprised you, but it didn't hurt at all. Your attention was on those annoying things, so you failed to notice that the god behind you recovered.

"Now Thor!" 

A strong force hit your back sending you on your back once again. You were about to stand up but a hammer was placed on your sternum. It made it difficult for you to stand up. The hammer is heavy on your grip as you try to lift it off you.

"Please stop Lady Y/N. We don't wanna hurt you." You looked straight at him as you tried to lift the hammer again with sheer force. It budged a little, and that made the god look at you with astonishment mixed with fear.

"I-impossible..."

Before you could do any further, you felt a prick on your neck and a sense of deja vu washes over you. You were knocked out cold, and the twins watching from afar could only see what was going on in front of them.

⧗──────────────────────────⧗

"They have Scythe! What are we gonna do? We can't leave her there with them." Wanda paced nervously at their camp.

"Relax sestra, I'm pretty sure Scythe has them instead. But I could always go and rescue your little girlfriend." Pietro wiggled his brow before placing a comforting hand on his sister's back.

"S-she's not- stop playing with me Piet. I can't believe I'm saying this but we just have to wait." She rubbed the crease off her brow. 

"Let's just go and help." The other twin agreed and kissed her sister's forehead before speeding away.

⧗──────────────────────────⧗

Natasha watches your limp body as they put another sedative on you again as soon as the signs of you waking up start to show. They couldn't risk you being conscious before finding out what happened to you. The files they got on Strucker's base showed various information on you, specifically on how to harness the stone's power on your chest.

"How long are we gonna do this to her?" Her voice was laced with worry and anger. This shouldn't have happened if only Fury listened to them.

"I don't know Romanoff, but we found her again. You don't think this calls for a celebration? Hmm?" Tony says as he types something on his computer.

"You just needed an excuse for throwing another party," Bruce spoke up. Natasha could only groan her annoyance at Tony.

"Surely, Y/N being sedated for the whole time is not exactly a celebration that I want to." She pointed a finger on Tony.

"Woah, hey. I'm not celebrating for that. I'm just really glad we found her again after searching for a long time. Besides, you're surrounded with intelligent people, nursing Y/N back at her normal state will be easy peasy."

"Why don't you get some rest first, Nat? Let us handle this, so by the time you get back, we could talk to Y/N." Natasha appreciates Bruce's sentiment but throws another pointed look at Tony.

"Fine. Don't do anything stupid. Call me once she recovers." And with that, she left the lab and headed to her room before checking in on Clint.

"That spider has her favorites, I'm telling you."

"Or you're just being an insensitive jerk."

⧗──────────────────────────⧗

In the following days, Natasha didn't fail to check in on you from time to time. You're placed in a special containment similar to the Hulk's, but you are being strapped for extra caution.

"Hey, little one, or not so little now that you've grown a few inches since we last saw you." She attempts small talk with you every visit so that you can recognize her and snap out of Hydra's control. They found out from Bucky, Steve's best friend who they rescued earlier that year, that the method they used on him was the same one being used on you.

"I'm just... I'm sorry I couldn't keep you safe. Even though I promised a lot of times." She pressed her head on the glass to ground herself. She can't help but let the guilt consume her. What she didn't notice was that your restless eyes settled on her.

You could easily phase out of these confinements, but whenever you look at the redhead, a sense of longing hits you like that hammer did to you.

Natasha was startled when she looked back at you and found you staring at her. She can't help but hope that you finally recognize her. The empty look in your eyes say otherwise.

"Y/N. I'm glad I found you again..." you hear her say but the movement you made in motion to get to her triggered the sedative in your collar. 

Natasha couldn't help but turn away since seeing you in that state devastated her.

⧗──────────────────────────⧗

"I told you not to do anything stupid, Stark." She can't help the disappointed tone in her voice as they gathered around after Ultron crashed the party.

She watched her teammates argue, but her thoughts drifted to you. She's glad that nothing happened to you when the commotion started and ended, and you were still there in your confinement.

She's about to head out when suddenly, you phased through the room. Instinctively, all of them are in a fighting stance. They weren't sure how they could handle you after this night, but they knew you could hurt each of them easily.

They looked at you warily, waiting for your next move. Natasha couldn't understand how you got out, considering you were unconscious when she left.

"Y-you promised to keep me safe. Natasha..." you looked at them with guilt and remorse as the series of memories flashed on your mind. "They used me. It was even worse. I couldn't escape..."

"You left me to them." Your knees gave out, and in a second, you're on the floor.  Natasha didn't hesitate to run to you and hold you in her arms. You didn't cry. You couldn't. You were just tired from all of it.

"I'm so sorry... I'm really sorry..." Natasha apologized profusely as she held you tightly, making sure to let you know that she'd never ever let you go like that again.

Part 6 || Next

[deadcorgidonoteat]

My favourite.

Cw; Omegaverse, Dubcon, Madrigalcest, 🌸🦋and a lil 🦋⚖.

It was a cold night in Encanto, most people were bundled up till they could barely breathe from all the layers. Yet despite this frost that covered the usually sunny town one omega lay in her bed sweating up a storm.

Pathetic groans and whines sounded out as she squirmed around in her bed...Night shorts are already covered in a thick sweet slick. Mirabel was in heat all so suddenly; she swore she just had one yet here she was fingers buried in her mound. She was thankful Antonio had left the nursery at this point, thankful she could help herself without worrying she'd accidentally wake him.

After hours of trying to sleep to ignore the burning between her legs, the Omega let out a gruff growing groan. Pulling on the soaked shorts she slowly creaked her door open. Listening.

"..."

The coast was clear and with one hand latched so hard onto her neck that she'd appeared to be claimed, she stepped out. Slowly made her way through the sleeping house yet something felt odd...An aroma filled her lungs...Her brain...Her cunt. It made her slick run down her pants as she entered the kitchen...

The scent was worse here...a slight movement in the corner of her eye only to be filled with the scent again. Yet this time it was more familiar, a soft rose covered by a burning campfire...

"I-Isabe-Ah~"

Cut off on the middle of her sentence a vine was now in the Omegas throat. She frantically looked around yet this scent drove her insane...Unknowingly she began to suckle and gulp down the plant. Her lips teased its succulent skin as her throat constricted around it, this earned a stifled moan from behind her.

"Ah. Ah. Ahhhh. Good Omega only speak when spoken to Hermanita~"

Isabela! Mirabel spat the vine out about to give her sister a long-awaited few words until... Soft perfect fingers cupped her plush cheeks. A soft purr was pushed into her ear as something pressed up against her thighs. Cold saliva was pressed against the stolen scent gland...she didn't fight back.

"Go~oo~d girl...Thats it just relax. Let me make you feel perfect."

Mirabel groaned softly...Feeling the sizable bulge be rubbed against her thighs she began to drool slightly. Soft needy keens escaping her. Isa only laughed at this as she pushed Mirabel down, now on her knees, Mira was face to face with the perfect cock of her Alpha.

"Isa..."

She mouthed before the tip was suddenly pushed into her mouth, with a small gag Mira knew her command without Isa even having to speak.

Her tongue teased her tip, an inexperienced hand slowly jerking at the shaft as she chocked down inch after inch of the thick rod in her mouth. A single burst of pre-coating the Omegas mouth in a desire for more...she began to wildly suck, pre and drool dripping down her chin till...

Mirabel's eyes only closed for a few seconds...Only opening when tight restraints were binding her arms above her head and her sister was bottomed out inside of her.

"A...Alpha...Please...Please I never ask anything of you...Just make this stop..."

She found herself babbling, her beasts being cupped and kneaded by the vines around them, erect nipples being pulled and teased.

"Make what stop, Mi pétalo de rosa~?"

The alpha teased delivering a rough thrust into the Omega below her...Sure the way she had bedded Mirabel was iffy. Leaving Phermanones around her to force her into heat...Giving the flowers she knew would amp up her libido but it was All worth it. Seeing Mirabel under her squirming just from her cock alone...Now that was perfect.

"PLEASE ISA! BREED ME!"

Mirabel blurted out only to be silenced with a vine...Wrapping around her mouth like a snake the vine muffled the shower of moans about to take place. Isa wasted no time thrusting into her sister degrading her along the way...Growling into her ear how she was her omega...How lucky she was that Isa was doing this.

She loved it, She loved it and she hated it. Mirabel loved how rough Isa was how she left marks. How she thrust into her so hard an audible slap was heard when their thighs collided. How when her knot began to form she wasted no time burying it into her virgin core.

"ISA! IS...AH AH!..."

"That's it! Take it take my knot! Take my knot and seed, Mirabel!"

It was done, Mirabel was knotted. Isabela roughly claimed her...all within a few seconds. She felt the hot cum fill her stomach...She leaned back into Isabela who only sneered.

"Isa..yo-"

"What did you do." .

The burning scent that was Lucia entered the room, a snarling match quickly formed between the two sisters. Stuck between a rock and a hard place Mirabel began to whimper.

Not wanting to cause the omega distress Isabela begrudgingly settled herself releasing the small omega from her vine prison. Her body was covered in small burns and cuts from how hard she was constricted.

"I'm going to kill you."

Lucia growled at her older sister...taking Mirabel into her toned arms, quickly claiming the other side of her neck a tear streaming down her face as she shushed her whimpering mate.

"Hay...Hay its ok...its ok I'm here now...Lucia s here now..."

She purred affectionately into Mirabel's neck...glaring at Isa with nothing but a jealous rage that had been building for a long. Long time.

"SHE. IS. MINE."

[sandbees]

we all know yuu is a beast tamer right? let's amp it up. imagine yuu having a pet eldritch god maybe Cthulhu, and their pet disguises themselves as a normal pet like a hamster or bunny, but yuu doesn't know their pet is a primordial god of destruction and is oblivious their pet is not normal. cue going to twisted wonderland, grim and the non-humans are obviously scared but don't know why. cue overblots, Cthulhu opens their mouth and poof tentacles are just inside eating overblot and then panic.

Yuu accidentally owning an eldritch horror is amazing. The reveal would be 👌. And the only reason why it didn’t kill Yuu or anyone yet is because they’ve grown to like Yuu.

BUT: I has an idea-

✨Eldrich Horror Grim✨

Imagine, Yuu waking up and escaping the coffin on their own, only to find themselves face to face with a smiling cat; who gives Yuu a sense of confort yet a chill runs up their spine.

Crowley entangles Grim in his “Whip of Love” yet the restraints seem to strain against the cat - as if it’s physically pulling away.

Ace is able to jokingly tease with Grim yet he feels this cold sensation whenever Grim speaks; it’s playful yet there is always an undertone of something that Ace doesn’t know how to put in words. It drives him mad.

During Riddle’s overblot; Grim is blasting fire, like usual. It isn’t until the rose bush goes to crush Yuu does something happen. Grim opens his mouth and...it’s too horrific for Yuu’s brain to process. Everything seems to become so much smaller in the presence of Grim.

And then it’s over. Grim is...still Grim. But the monster behind Riddle is gone; vanished without a trace. Riddle is lying on the ground; alive, thankfully. Just passed out.

[thefairyletters]

Showdown

Naruto and Hinata versus Sasuke and Sakura

According to stats: Naruto and Sasuke are almost equals, and Sakura is the most powerful Kunoichi, only second to Kaguya who is not a Kunoichi but a goddess. But if in Boruto, these two couples were to face each other for real (and not just spar) then it wouldn't be Naruto vs Sasuke while Sakura faces Hinata, contrary to what most of you may think.

Sasuke and Sakura have an extreme Intelligence advantage. The 3/4ths of the total brainpower in this fight would be coming from their team. Sakura is the second smartest shinobi in the Leaf village as an adult, only next to Shikamaru, and Sasuke is arguably a close third. It has been like that since their genin days. The amount of tactical planning going on from their side of the battle would be ridiculous. Naruto and Hinata are both the type to charge headfirst through sheer willpower and pressure, but this isn't going to work against any plan Sasuke and Sakura manage to think up. Brains are always one step ahead of brawns.

As an adult Sasuke shows us that he is capable of using the Rinnegan in far more versatile ways than he did in the war arc, when he was new to the power. He can jump dimensions, swap places with another body, affect the gravity around a person, throw immensely powerful genjutsus with a single glance, see any invisible barriers, predict movements, recognize patterns/codes/signals, and much more. Like holy shit y'all. You really think Naruto would preform as well as he did against war arc Sasuke now that Sasuke actually has a full understanding of his Rinnegan and frequently UTILIZES it?

Gravity and pull. Sasuke's Rinnegan gives him limited control of the gravity around a person or between him and another person. Using this, Sasuke has the ability to tap into some Deva path shit and yank Hinata towards him. It is immensely difficult to resist the pull, and someone as physically weak as Hinata would be easily ripped forward away from Naruto. Once they're separated, Naruto has no surefire way of getting Hinata back to his side and safe in enough time, because she would either be led right into a fatal punch from Sakura or a chidori or sword through the gut from Sasuke himself. Either way, if Naruto lets his watch on her slip even a little bit, she probably already dead or close to it. This could also be a support tactic. Sakura gets separated and is in danger. Using his Deva path pull Sasuke can drag Sakura out of a potentially dangerous situation and back to his side. Same works with the body swap. If Sakura is in a nasty situation, Sasuke can swap places with her in his Susanoo to easily tank a hit that may have killed her. That or he can swap her place with a rock if need be.

Two words: Summoning strength. Sasuke and Sakura hold two of the three boss summons in the three way deadlock. Naruto holds one. Hinata holds…nothing. It doesn't stop there though. Sasuke has at least two other powerful summons that we know of, and while they aren't as powerful as Aoda, they still give him some fair advantages. For example, Sasuke's hawk, Garuda, gives him an aerial advantage should he ever need to take to the skies as a countermeasure against Naruto. Naruto and Hinata have no summons who could reach Sasuke, and this gives him many solid opportunities. Sakura, on the other hand, has Katsuyu. Katsuyu can be spread out across the battlefield in various sizes to heal her allies wherever they may end up on the field. She could also be used in her original form to spit acid or protect the two from any taijutsu and most ninjutsu attacks. Katsuyu is stated early on to be extremely resistant to taijutsu and ninjutsu, and for fucks sake she can tank Pein's attacks with ease while protecting people inside, plus she survived Naruto's corrosive 8 tails chakra just fine. I see absolutely no taijutsu attacks that Naruto and Hinata pull getting through or truly damaging her, and Naruto would have to really put some effort into his more powerful ninjutsu techniques to take her down (also note that since Katsuyu has a very jelly like body type and is resistant to taijutsu and ninjutsu, Naruto's summons wouldn't be terribly productive on offense). But this leaves him wide open for counterattacks if he focuses too much on Katsuyu. And then of course Katsuyu can heal fatal injuries or at least sustain the life of a person fatally injured until help is given. The ultimate win for Sasuke and Sakura in terms of summoning.

Being an Active Shinobi is very important. Sasuke is an active shinobi. Very active. He is constantly on B through S rank missions, and Sakura has traveled with him on some of these. His teammate for this battle, Sakura, is still an active medical shinobi who easily accepts an S rank mission in the Retsuden novels and is originally dealing with part of it on her own before she teams up with Sasuke, who is also present. We have seen her fight in Boruto too. It shows that she is 100% still at her peak performance. Well, what about Naruto and Hinata? Hinata is a housewife who hasn't gone on anything above a C rank mission in years. She takes a B rank mission with her father and sister when Boruto is a toddler, and this is all we hear of it. She's rusty AF and doesn't have the experience nor mission bulk that Sasuke and Sakura have under there belt, nowhere NEAR it. Naruto is somewhat similar. He is, for lack of a better description, out of practice. He was only recently taking on S rank opponents in Boruto, and other than that he's been doing desk work and some minor shinobi guard training over the past few years. Sasuke and Sakura are more in shape and have more recent shinobi mission experience than Naruto and Hinata's combination, both by themselves AND as a team in a fight, which is immensely important here.

Everyone is always forgetting about how important Support can be. Sakura is a first class, kage-level healer at this point in the series. Her medical ninjutsu surpassed Tsunade's back in her own canon novel and is confirmed in the novelization of Boruto's movie a second time. Her ability to constantly heal or boost Sasuke's chakra in battle is important. Whereas while Naruto can amp up Hinata with a chakra cloak, Sakura can go even further. We see with Obito that Sakura can transfer her Byakugou seal markings with all it's chakra to another person she is touching, and in the Retsuden novels this is looked into further. By applying her seal to Sasuke, he becomes an absolute terror for even Naruto to handle. Imagine this: super fast shinobi w/ the Rinnegan abilities and Susanoo suddenly not only getting a chakra boost, but being able to automatically heal potentially fatal wounds completely over and over again for as long as the chakra exists. Sakura at this point has 15+ years of chakra stored in her Byakugou seal (we know this because she notes briefly in the canon novels after The Last that she has not stopped storing chakra and plans to continue doing so just in case she ever needs it). But let's say she didn't continue after that though. She would still have around 6 or 7 years of chakra in her seal. 6–7 YEARS OF CHAKRA. I don't care how much chakra you think Naruto has, it isn't anywhere close to the amount of chakra currently inactive within Sakura's seal, considering the fact that she could completely replenish Naruto's chakra with only 3 days worth of her general chakra. Sasuke would be a BEAST. Absolutely nightmarish on every level if this fight. And Sakura, so long as the chakra exists, would also be nightmarish - especially for those people who think Sakura and Hinata would end up dualing it out at some point.

Have we gotten to the whole dimension portal thing yet? Nope and this is a crucial winning point for Sasuke and Sakura. If in danger, in need of a new plan or simply to dodge away from a particularly crazy attack from Naruto, Sasuke can pull both himself and Sakura into a completely different space in the blink of an eye. He can also use this to jump around the space Naruto is in and really screw around with them. And if you're worried about Sasuke's chakra levels diminishing quickly, don't be. Once again, Sakura's Byakugou seal is the ultimate support ability. Remember that whole “she has at least 6-7 years of chakra even if she, for some reason, wimped out on her plans” spiel? Yeah…that's an easy fix. She helped Obito actually hold open AND SEARCH (people seem to forget that he had to use chakra to search dimensions) multiple dimensions when she only had 3 years of chakra in the seal, and even the she still had enough chakra left to reform the seal on her forehead soon after. Sooo…keeping Sasuke's chakra level high wouldn't be a problem. They can also use the dimensions for Sakura to heal and repair them both. Hinata can't heal and Naruto can't truly “heal" so much as his life force is just really strong, so they're at yet another disadvantage.

Terrain manipulation and swaps. This is where it gets really technical. Sasuke has the Rinnegan, and with it he can do serious damage very early on in the game when his opponent is not expecting such a rush. Try to imagine a scenario like so: Sakura winds up for a full power punch directly behind Sasuke as soon as the fight begins, or otherwise as early on as possible. She fires off the punch at Sasuke. Sasuke, at the last possible second he can manage, swaps his place with Hinata, and BAM. That's one down for team Naruto. Hinata would either be dead or close to it immediately after she hits the ground and stops. Same applies for a switch with Naruto. At that close of a range with literally zero time to dodge at that point, even Naruto would be fairly damaged from a point blank shot, and a damaged Naruto from the start spells bad news for Hinata - the girl basically fully depends on Naruto in the fight, she can't do anything to Sasuke or Sakura without his constant support.

Overall, we can go into arguments if whether Naruto is stronger than Sasuke or Sakura stronger than Hinata, but the truth of the matter is that it doesn't really matter. What matters is that Sasuke is at least competitively close in power to Naruto, and Sakura arguably the most powerful kunoichi in the series at the moment. Their power gap is extraordinarily close, so at this point it all comes down to who is best tactically suited and best prepared for this kind of nuclear fight. And honestly, with their ability to manipulate their surroundings and work more with the terrain and constantly replenish, there's no doubt about the victory. 80% of the time it'll be Sasuke and Sakura if they play their cards like they should.

Answer credits goes to Alex Hendrix, Quora

[fat-hedonistic-hogs]

Since I'm watching HxH again I started brain storming what some of my RWBY muses would have as their Nen affinities given both shows use a power system called aura.

Ruby: enhancer or specialist

Ruby was tough to pick but given her semblance is a speed boost enhancer was a good pick but also I figured with her silver eyes specialist also works.

Weiss: Conjurer

Not really surprising given her semblance and with Conjuration being one of the two ways to make nen beasts this felt like an obvious choice.

Blake: emitter

She admits a shadow double of herself. This was going to be either conjuration or emission and given Weiss' affinity I chose to go with Blake being an emitter

Yang: enhancer

She punch things and gets stronger when pissed. Her hair or anger work as conditions to make her abilities stronger. She's a perfect fit for an enhancer.

Jaune: enhancer

His semblance let's him Amp others so this is a perfect example of the healing support side of enhancement

Nora: enhancer

Enhances her body with electricity, either enhancer or an electricity transmuter ability similar to Killua's would fit but given the nature of her semblance i feel enhancement fits it best even if JNPR has to double up on their affinities.

Pyrrha: manipulator

Another easy one she manipulates objects via magnetism in RWBY here she'd do it through nen. Becoming a maiden would probably turn you into a specialist so add that here aswell.

Ren: specialist

His semblance behaves similarly to the Zetsi technique and he is able to hide his and others presences. I feel this falls into specialist due to other high level zetsu users also being specialists

Cinder: Transmuter

Here she's be able to give her aura the properties of heat and glass allowing her to melt and reform objects as she wishes. A bit of a stretch but I think it works. As a maiden she'd become a specialist

Emerald: fits in with other manipulators as her powers affect people's perception of reality.

Neo: conjurer

Her semblance let's her make physical illusions which falls into the nen cosntruct applications of conjuration so she fits here.