#but the positioning is a little tricky there

[yan-lorkai]

Hello! I have a story request:

Undertaker (Black Butler) x Ciels sister!reader where maybe during the Campana arc reader kinda helps Ut. Like, maybe the fact that the dead are going to turn into zombies is almost revealed because (for example) a zombie breaks out of their coffin already, so reader lures it back? Idk. I just really want to read about the reader helping Ut because she wants to see him happy and smile and whatnot (I always get so happy when Ut laughs). Seeing as this would be yandere maybe reader is also just a bit obsessed with Ut? Not full blown yandere, just slightly codependent obsession?

Thank you! (Thank you if you do write it. If you don't write it then thank you for all your other wonderful stories)

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/n: This was a bit tricky considering the second part of your request, which I couldn't make it fit here, so I'm just mentioning rather than showing. Overall, I hope you enjoy it. Undertaker is always a delight to write to.

The night was heavy with tension, the air thick with the scent of incense and something far less holy - much heavier, as rotten blood and stitched limbs. The Campania’s lavish halls were brimming with the murmurs, laughters and music, all unaware of the dark secret that writhed below the surface - bodies resting in coffins, waiting for the signal to rise and attack.

Amidst this carefully constructed chaos, you stood near the back of the room, your eyes subtly darting from side to side, scanning for any signs of trouble. You had been on edge since Undertaker had whispered his plan to you, a smile playing on his lips, as if this entire twisted game was no more than a grand performance he had orchestrated.

And yet, when he had explained what he needed to do, you could see the glint of madness, the excitement in his eyes that had sent a chill down your spine. But it was that same glint you couldn’t resist, the way his eyes seemed to light up, the way he smiled that you jumped right onto his plan without him needing to ask you to.

It wasn't supposed to be like this.

There was a shuffling sound, barely perceptible, and you stiffened, your hand clenching around the fan you held. Glancing around, your gaze quickly fell toward the source. One of the coffins was rocking slightly, the lid shifting as something within struggled to break free. Panic surged through you; this was too early.

The guests would see, and everything would unravel. Undertaker’s plan would be ruined.

Quickly, you moved closer, slipping past the other coffins with practiced ease. You reached the coffin just as the lid burst open, and a decaying hand clawed its way out, grasping at the air. The corpse’s eyes were wide, empty, and hungry, a sight that would have sent anyone else running in terror. But not you. You had seen far worse, working alongside Undertaker for a few months now.

You had heard Undertaker’s tales, his gentle whispers of how he had perfected this experiment, how it was all leading to this moment. You knew the lengths he would go to for his morbid fascination. And you loved the dreamy look on his eyes, even if you didn't quite understood what he planed to achieve with that.

With a calm that surprised even yourself, you stepped forward, positioning yourself between the coffin and the rest of the room. “Shh, shh… it's alright, dearie.” You whispered softly, your voice barely audible over the murmurs of conversation and the soft strains of the orchestra.

The zombie's head jerked towards you, its movements stiff and unnatural, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you slowly extended your hand, letting it grasp at your fingers, and gently guided it back down. “I know you’re restless and confused, but you need to wait just a little longer,” you continued, almost as if you were speaking to a child. “Go back, and I promise you’ll be able to stretch your legs soon.”

“Well, aren’t you a brave little thing?” He drawled, his voice low, a touch of amusement lacing his tone as he gently caressed your cheek with a soft touch. “I must say, I didn’t expect my sweet little assistant to take matters into her own hands.”

With surprising compliance, the creature obeyed, retreating back into its dark confinement. You gently closed the lid, making sure it was secure, and let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You could not be afraid, yet it was terrifying to speak with a dead being.

Turning back, you found yourself face-to-face with Undertaker, his lips curved into a wide, knowing grin.

You felt your cheeks heating up, but you couldn’t help but return his smile, even if just a little. “I couldn’t let your plan fall apart,” you said, keeping your voice light, though your heart was still pounding. “Besides, I know how much this means to you… I couldn’t stand to see you disappointed.”

Your breath hitched as his fingers lingered against your skin, the touch affectionate. The rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in the dim light. “I’m not afraid because I want to see you happy,” you admitted quietly, averting your gaze, afraid to see his reaction. “I know how you are when you’re excited, and… I like it.”

Undertaker’s grin widened, and he took a step closer, his gloved fingers brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Oh, my dear, always so considerate, always thinking about me,” he murmured, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t quite place.

“You know, you’re quite the enigma yourself. So delicate, yet so fearless when it comes to helping me play with my little experiments. Are not afraid of them? Of me?”

Undertaker’s eyes softened, and for a moment, his grin melted into something more tender, more genuine. He tilted your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze, and the look he gave you was almost reverent. “You’re quite the fascinating creature yourself, little dove.”

His voice barely above a whisper. “Always so eager to please, even when you should be running the other way. I wonder… do you even realize what you’re getting yourself into?”

You knew you should have been afraid, but instead, you felt a warmth spreading through your chest. There was something almost intoxicating about the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the world who could understand him, who could share in his dark, twisted delight.

“I don’t care,” you replied softly, your voice steady. “As long as I’m with you, I don’t care what happens.”

Undertaker chuckled, the sound low and rich, and he leaned in, his lips brushing against your temple. “Then I suppose it’s a good thing you’ve already chosen your side, my dear,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “After all, there’s no turning back now… and I do so love having you by my side. I won't let you get away now, not even if your little brother found us out, not even if the whole world goes up in flames, you're my pretty assistant."

As you stood there, locked in Undertaker’s gaze, you realized you didn’t mind the darkness that surrounded him. In fact, it was that very darkness that drew you in, binding you to him in a way you couldn’t quite explain.

A smug smile grew on your lips. "Good to know because I'm not planning to let anyone separate us."

And as the night continued, you found yourself more certain than ever that you would do whatever it took to keep that smile on his face, even if it meant dancing along the edge of madness with him.

[tjerra14]

Then I'll stay a little longer.

[sevens-evan]

gym bros love pretending that lifting form is like this insanely technical art form that takes years to master and it’s like. i mean you get better at it over the course of years that’s true but no lift worth doing has that crazy of a movement pattern. in fact most of them feel very natural and mirror things you already do in real life. it just feels like annoying ass gatekeeping trying to intimidate beginners and it’s so dumb dude

[culmaer-sideblog]

please forgive me, but I need to complain and over-share or my brain is going to explode please feel free to ignore

[ganymedesclock]

Hello! I hope your week has been kind to you. May I inquire of your thoughts about IDW Eggman written by Ian Flynn? I noticed his reference in one of your posts, and i would like to know how you feel about the direction Ian is taking the Sonic characters in in the Sonic franchise. I would also like to know what you think about Surge and Kit, the product of Dr. Starline's unethical experimentations. Mimic, the traitorous mercenary as well if you don't mind. Remind yourself to eat your meals regularly and to maintain a limber body!

I admittedly haven't gotten to sink my teeth in IDW- I'm currently following through @thankskenpenders' take on archie which I would like to finish before I start that. What I have seen is promising, but I don't consider myself educated to speak on those characters. I think Surge, Kit, and Mimic have very fun designs and seem to have a lot of potential, and I love the way the former two (and Starline himself) are nods to classic glitches.

As far as IDW Eggman, as I've said, I'm very interested in what Flynn and Stanley do with him! They're definitely a bit darker than I've always liked my take on Eggman- my formative Sonic game was Sonic Adventure 2, which featured Eggman as a protagonist in his own right, albeit a "dark" one. I've always liked the idea of him as half-honorable, and it's a balancing act to frame that with just how brutal and ruthless he can be. But I've grown to be fond of that- I think half-honorability stands out a little more when the other half is that... coldly efficient.

As I said in the post, I think it's interesting to take Eggman as someone who may have had noble intentions as a 'fixer' once but who's gone a good few strides further than that. In a warped way, he always 'helps'- but you may not appreciate his help. I think that plays well with him as a manipulator and a trickster who tends to play people against each other for his own profit and amusement- if he's always harmless or always terrifying that's a potentially fine character (there's much I like about SatAM Robotnik after all!) but it doesn't really hit me as Eggman in the same way.

Almost everything I've gleaned secondhand about the Mr. Tinker arc is fascinating to me because of that. Especially the way Sonic confronts Eggman afterwards, and makes it clear he isn't opposed to Eggman regaining his memory (Sonic is not someone who likes to take power or options away from even his worst enemies) but upset that Eggman threw away everything he had as Mr. Tinker, to which Eggman replies, almost wistfully, that that kind of life was "peaceful"- but he's got bigger fish to fry.

As I said in a previous post, at the end of the day, Eggman's meant a lot of things to a lot of people, and while I'll always have my own takes on the Sonic cast, the biggest thing I can hope for is that new versions of the story will experiment further. That willingness to try new things boldly is, in my opinion, one of the things that's kept the Sonic franchise as youthfully full of vitality as it is. I can't really find it in my heart to hate any version of Eggman- they've all got something going for them, from the silly to the horrifying to the aforementioned half-honorable to the completely vile.

[monster-noises]

Sometimes i think about how.. in highschool i took what was called M-level math classes, which were more difficult than College level but less difficult than University Level and I was like.. top of my class

So much so that like Everyone, my teachers, my parents, my Friends even.. were like "if you're doing that well and staying that much ahead why aren't you taking university level math????"

And I would vainly try to explain that i was perfectly comfortable in M level math, even though it Looked like i wasn't being ""challenged"" enough because that was me working basically At Capacity, it wasn't indicative of any ""firther potnetial"" that Was my Best.. but rarely was i actually listened to (or possibly I didn't have the language or confidence to explain it effectively) eventually i caved to the pressure and took U-level math

And fucking

Guess what

There was a Percipitous grade drop and i almost Failed at /least/ 1 class.

Because University level math went Too fast with Too much information so while the stuff i was already naturally understanding of went Fine the stuff i had less of a grasp on basically Sunk me because there was no Time in the course to review or take it slower, which i had Had in the M-level course but no one caught on too because it still Looked like I was "finishing faster than everyone else"

And if that's not a Damn perfect metaphor for a huge amount of the rest of my life i don't know what would be.

[airenyah]

love it when you end up doing work that shouldn't be your responsibility but you know you don't have to say a word bc you know your bosses are kind hearted and are seeing this shit and are decidedly not ok with it

[quillyfied]

An adage that my parents told us growing up was when we started to get jobs, to go above and beyond our job descriptions, and a slightly older friend spelled it out more bluntly and said to become indispensable to the company, to the point where they can’t fire you without having to work twice as hard to replace you.

There’s some merit to that, but I think more about how both my dad and my friend, for a long time, were pretty much on call all the time. My dad made his peace with it until they switched him from hourly to salary, therefore undercutting the overtime pay that kept his paychecks comfortable enough to pay off debts and splurge a little on stuff like a lawnmower and a new car that wasn’t built the year I was born and my parents’ first-ever house (in their twenty-fifth year of marriage). Swap to salary and he’s still working the same overtime hours, but none of the extra pay. He considered quitting but after talking it over with supervisors, moved one department over doing something a little more stable and when he’s done, he’s done, no forced overtime. His manager is better to communicate with and does his best to force my dad to take time off, and overall my dad likes him better and so performs better. Things don’t fall apart without my dad there but he’s secure as houses in what he brings to the table anyway.

As for my friend, she poured everything into her job, moved several times for it, and gave up many of her hobbies and sacrificed her mental and physical health for this place. She was fired after one low-performance month in two years because—you guessed it—Covid was starting up. She picked herself up, made herself some promises about work-life balance, and worked her way up in another job—still on call but with a firmer boundary in place that her superiors mostly respect—and she’s about to lose her job due to forces outside of anyone’s control or due to any fault of her own. She’s outstanding at her job, has been told by many supervisors and people under her that she’s good at it. The specific job she does is just about to not exist because the relationship between the companies she liaises between is dissolving. Nothing she did wrong and nothing she can do about it.

The moral: if your conscience compels you to be outstanding at your job, then be outstanding. But always remember it’s just a job and no job is ever completely secure. And so no job ever deserves your entire life and soul.

[deathbyday]

𖥔not so gen. mouthwashing relations headcanons.𖥔˚

Written By: DeathByDay

TW - death, SA.

Includes: Captain Curly, Daisuke, and Anya

__________

Captain Curly

• This man is 100% a sucker for romance

• I’ve seen some people say that they think that he’s one to be into PDA, but honestly I just don’t see it

• Maybe a few pecks on the cheek or light hand holding, but nothing more

• He just doesn’t seem that type of guy to me

• But in private? That’s a whole different story

• He’s all on you whenever you want him to be or not, especially in the mornings

• I feel like he’d love to hug you from behind while you sleep, his nose pressed against the back of your neck while his arms are wrapped around right underneath your chest

• Would 100% wake up first like c’mon he’s literally a captain, he needs to (much to your dismay)

• But while you’re still asleep he’d plant small kisses on the back of your neck to try to wake you

• If that doesn’t work, then he’d leave the room before coming back soon enough with a cup of your favorite morning drink. Coffee, tea, milk, water, you name it

• If you came to him during a bad day, rest assured he’s gonna take care of you

• He’s running a bath with the exact temperature you wanted, laying out pajamas for you, along with towels. Probably would put bath salt in there too (if you aren’t allergic and like the feeling of it)

• Acts of service and words of affirmation are his love languages, prove me wrong. YOU CANT

• You don’t understand how bad he would feel after the crash

• Like he can’t be there for you and you need to be the one taking care of him. He just feels pathetic

• You sometimes make Jimmy let you give him the painkillers. You wouldn’t be as harsh as him, of course. Just gently slide it on his tongue and help him swallow, not shoving or pushing it down

• Anyways back to pre-crash Curly

• I think he would adore it if you ever planted kisses on his cheek, neck, or forehead (or honestly anywhere else)

• If you’re shorter than him, you’d have to grab his jawline and bring him down to your level to properly kiss. Trust me when I say he would never recover from it

• Loves kissing your neck, especially before you two begin the day together

NSFW

• Y’all cannot tell me this guy isn’t the most gentlest man in bed

• Always asking if you’re comfortable, moving at a reasonable pace until you’re ready, praising you for taking him so well, etc

• He 100% presses down on your stomach to feel how deep he is inside of you

• Gives you neck kisses while he praises you

• #need that

• I think he’d end up being more serious than silly

• Although he would occasionally chuckle at your whimpers and moans, I don’t feel like he’d actually crack a few jokes

Daisuke

• Ten thousand percent blushes at the slightest contact. Even from your hand accidentally rubbing against his he becomes a flustered mess

• Adores PDA, he doesn’t care

• But of course if you don’t, that’s fine

• Just hold his pinky finger and give him a kiss on the cheek from time to time and he’s good to go

• 100% does puppy eyes whenever he wants a kiss

• You guys could just be laying on the lounge area’s couch and he would give you those eyes. Obviously you gave him what he wanted because who wouldn’t

• When you cuddle, I don’t really see him having a favorite position. He could be the big spoon or the little spoon, he’s happy with both

• When he’s the little spoon, he’d have his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His head would be smushed into your chest, snuggling close

• When he’s the big spoon, he’d almost always have an arm wrapped around your shoulders while being in a starfish position

• Not to mention the snoring. He snores so loud you can’t prove me otherwise. He would sleep with his mouth open, which makes it even worse

• At first, it was tricky getting used to his snoring. But after a month or two of sleeping together, you couldn’t sleep without it

• Definitely not the one to wake up first. Most of the time, you have to drag him out of the bed to get him up and get ready for the day, leading to him whining and groaning

• Physical touch has this man in a chokehold

• Whenever the two of you actually have to work, he’d be so sad to leave you alone

• But after you two finally met up after, he would blabber about what he did, who he talked to, etc. and you would listen to every detail

• 100% the one to say “gyatt” whenever you pass by him. Even if you have a flat ass he still says it

• If you ended up dying before him, this guy would actually become depressed

• We all know he started getting drunk due to the mouthwash, but that is nowhere near how much he drank when you passed away

• If he ended up dying before you, he would promise you a thousand times while he’s bleeding out that he’d wait for you

• But back to fluff

• Whenever you have a bad day, this guy is definitely not leaving you alone

• He’d cuddle you until you literally explode

• If you were to ever kiss him anywhere on his face, he’d be a blushing mess no matter how light it is

• He genuinely doesn’t know what he’s doing and just wings it with you, knowing you’d love him no matter what

NSFW

• He’s definitely a whiner

• You’d have to shut him up by either making out or keeping a hand on his mouth to muffle him

• Soft sex soft sex soft sex

• There’s no way he can take it seriously when you two are in bed. Of course he would try if you were into that, but he’d end up giggling at the end of each sentence

• 100% has a praise kink

• Please tell this man how good he’s doing at keeping you satisfied. He’d be way too embarrassed to do anything more with you if you don’t

Anya

• My poor baby

• She isn’t the best at expressing her love for you, but it’s obvious she loves you so much

• Not very big on PDA, but you do sometimes get a hug or a light peck on the cheek whenever you walk into a room she’s already in

• Will rant to you about how dumb it is that Daisuke won the game in Sorry!. She could honestly go on for hours on end

• You have to calm her down and tell her that it’ll be okay. Never tell her “it’s just a game” because then she’ll get even more upset

• When she found out she was pregnant, she felt terrible. Not just for herself but for you

• What would you think? Assume she’s cheating on you with her assaulter?

• You two were in bed when she finally broke the news to you about Jimmy and the baby. And oh my god you actually almost fought that man

• She had to hold you back from getting up from your spot. After that night, you shot daggers at that man every time you passed him. You didn’t speak to him once, no matter the situation

• You held her in your arms that night, whispering praises into her ear before she finally fell asleep

• Speaking of sleep, she adores being the little spoon while cuddling with you

• Her face smushed into your chest? Your arms wrapped around her, fingers twisting around her hair? It sounded like heaven

• I feel like Anya would be the one to wake up first

• She won’t leave you alone until you did, so it doesn’t take long for you both to be up and ready

• She would mutter petnames against your neck, pleading with you to wake up from your slumber

• 100% makes your favorite drink in the morning and makes it perfect every. single. time

• If you can’t cook, she’ll teach you

• She’s a wonderful teacher and chef. She explains everything to you correctly and soon you actually catch on

• You bake cookies by yourself (under her supervision) and if you burn them, she still praises you like you did everything right

• Whenever you get hurt, even if it’s just a scratch that’s barely bleeding, she cares for you as if you’ve broken a bone

• Both of you are each other’s protectors. She watches out for you, and you watch out for her

NSFW

• She wouldn’t be very talkative, but she would occasionally speak if you ever asked

• Ex: “Use your words, baby.” “Y/N-.. Please..”

• I feel like she’d shed a few tears whenever she becomes overstimulated, or if it’s your first time together

• Let her go as slow as she wants. She’ll eventually become comfortable enough with you, but it’ll take a few attempts

• I’m literally begging you, don’t slam your fingers, dildo/strap, or dick into her. She won’t talk to you for ages

• Don’t do anything harsh while having intercourse. I feel like she’d rather you be soft with her

• She’d be a mix of silly and serious. Drop a few occasional jokes to get her to laugh. But only do that when you two are actually moving at a good pace

• At first, I think she would be serious. If not nervous. But when you guys are finally adjusting to each other, it’s always nice to see her giggle

__________

authors note

I sincerely apologize if anyone was hoping for swansea.. I just couldn’t think of anything for him. Still wanna kiss that grumpy old man though!!

but nonetheless, I hope you all liked this<3

[inkskinned]

there are a lot of posts out there that are positive and healthy coping mechanisms for handling the holidays. this is not one of them :)

i think there's like. going to be times in your life you will be stuck in a social situation that you cannot escape from gracefully. i do not know why the internet doesn't believe these times exist. it's not always just that your physical safety is at risk - sometimes it's legit like "i just don't currently have the energy or time to put in the effort of responding to this." sometimes it's a coworker you hate so much. sometimes it's just like, fine, you know? like you know you can handle your aunt when she's cheerily horrible, but if you actually set a boundary around her, it's going to be weeks of fallout with your father.

i don't know why people think the answer is always just "cut them out!" or "don't let them get away with that!" because ... the real world is tricky and complicated. i think kind of a lot of us have an internal "radiation poisoning" meter for certain people. like - i'm talking about the ones who are absolutely giving you gradual ick damage. like, you can handle them, but you'll be exhausted.

and yes. you absolutely should listen to your therapist and the good posts about handling others and set good boundaries and take care of yourself. prioritize peace.

HOWEVER :) ...... since im often in a situation with a Gradual Sense of Ick person i cannot just "cut out" of my life (without losing someone else precious to me) - i have sort of developed the most. maladaptive form of mischief possible. because like, if i'm going to have to listen to this shit again, i like to have a little bit of private fun with it.

now! again, i am physically safe, just mentally drained by this man. you should only do this with people you are not in danger with. which leads me to my suggestions for when your Unfortunate Acquaintance shows up and says oh everyone pay attention to me.

my favorite word is "maybe!" said as brightly and happily as possible. whenever the Horrible Person starts in on a topic you do not want to go further with, particularly if they make a claim that you know to be inaccurate, do not respond to it. you and i have both tried to actually argue with this person, and it hasn't gone well, because this person just wants the drama of an argument. however, "maybe!" gives them literally nothing to go on. it is incredibly disarming. they are used to people having some response. they know they can't prove what they're saying, and maybe! treats them like the child they are. it dismisses them in the politest way possible.

i like to say maybe! and then, in their stunned silence, immediately change the subject. this is because i have adhd and i will have something unrelated to talk about, but if you can't think of topics fast enough, i recommend just pointing to something and saying, "isn't that lovely?" because fuck you let's bring in some positivity.

by the way. that second trick - of pointing to something and stating an opinion about it? - that just works on its own, like, 70% of the time. i picked it up from teaching preschoolers. it's an intentional "redirect". it stops children crying and it also stops grown adults from finishing their explanation on why women belong in kitchens. dual wielding!

keep it silly for yourself. i absolutely do not care if people think i'm fucking stupid (it's more fun if they do) and as a result i will purposefully misunderstand things just to see how long it takes them to realize i've completely removed them from the subject at hand. when they say "women aren't funny" i get to be like. "which women." "all women." "all women in america?" "no in the world." "like the mole people? the people in the world?" "what? no. like, alive." "oh are we not counting the mole people?" "what the fuck are you talking about." "you don't believe in the mole people?"

similarly, i play a personal game called "one up me." my Evil Acquaintance literally knows this game exists (my family & friends caught onto it and now also play it) and it always fucking gets him. i don't know why. you have to be willing to be a little free-spirited on this one, though. the trick is that when they make one of those horrible little bigoted or annoying comments they are always making, you need to go one unit weirder. not more intense, mind you - just more weird. "you don't look good in that dress." "yeah, actually, my other dress was covered in squid ink due to a mishap at the soup store." "you shouldn't wear such revealing clothes." "wait, what? oh shit. sorry, your son tears off strips when no one is looking and eats them. i swear it was longer before we left the building."

the point of "one up me" is to completely upend this person's narrative. we both know this person likes setting up situations where you cannot "win" and then they really like telling other people how badly you handled it. in a usual situation, if you respond "please don't say something that rude", you're a bitch. but if you let it happen, you're letting yourself be debased. they are not usually expecting door number three: unflappably odd. because what are they going to say when they're telling everyone how badly you behaved? "she said my son eats her dresses" ".... okay?"

if you can, form an allyship with someone whomst you can tagteam with. where they can pick up on your weird "soup store" story and run with it.

the following phrase is amazing and can be deployed for any situation: "oh, be nice :) it's the holidays!" i do not know why this works as often as it does. i'll say it for the most random shit. i think this is bc most of the time these people know they're being impolite, they just like to fight.

godbless. when in doubt, remember that you could always start stealing their pens.

the whole point of this is - if you can't escape. maybe see how long you can just be. like. a horrible little menace.

[the-moon-devi]

Happy Spring Equinox, and Aries SZN! 🐏

🔆 Neptune in 2h: This placement can be very tricky because Neptune rules illusions & confusion. If you have this in your solar return, BEWARE, there's a chance you will experience uncertainty when it comes to things like tax returns and finances in general. This is also the house of self-worth, so this could indicate confusion in this area. Even a loss or drop in self-confidence. 

🔆 Saturn in 1h: This can manifest in many different ways. But usually you may feel restricted in some way this year, this could even lead to you feeling like an elderly person as you become more mature. The universe will send you a lot of roadblocks this year, and it may feel like you are constantly stuck in life. My advice us to roll with the tides literally, and don't get too down. Because this can also lead to depression. If you've already experienced your Saturn return, this may be a bit easier for you as someone who is still in the beginning stages of their life. Saturn may bring up old lessons and test you to make sure you've learned your lesson.

🔆 Taurus/Libra Asc: These Ascendants are ruled by venus. So already we can see that the year will most likely be intel, venusian based events & circumstances. Such as Love, beauty, finances, business, and socialization. The house Venus sits in can show where most of your focus will be. 

🔆 Sun in 3h: May show an increase in popularity, you may be learning a lot, and involved in social media. Talking more with people online, and even meeting people with similar interests. For my 2023 SR my sun landed in the 3rd house, and about a week after my birthday I started tumblr. It got more attention than I expected. I also had the asteroid Webb (3041) in the 1h and Fama at 29° in 11h. So that probably just added a little boost and shows that it was meant for me to start this blog.

Edit: (I actually had a 3rd house stellium)

🔆 Venus 4h: You or your mother may be more interested in beautifying your house, according to the position of Venus in the 4th house. This also indicates that your home life may be more peaceful, unless Uranus or Mars is present, which can show movement. Furthermore, Venus can indicate romance for the year, along with the 7th house. If you engage in romantic conversations, you may experience deep emotional connections with people. Also, you may find yourself meeting very familiar people, even if you haven't met them in this lifetime, and it can feel like you have met them before. The 4th house is very karmic, so it can show partners from the past coming back, whether that be good or bad. However, you can find yourself feeling nurtured within connections or doing the nurturing. Additionally, you may meet romantic partners from home, which could mean that you could meet them online or through family. Overall, your love life will be private and possibly more secure.

🔆 Lilith 7h: According to my natal x Sr chart, Lilith sat in my 1st house while in my separate Sr chart, she was in my 7th house. This indicates that Lilith dominated my experiences in 2023, and as a result, Lilith and I have become friends. Lol. When it comes to relationships, expect the unexpected, similar to Uranus in the 7th house or conjunct the Descendant. Lilith in the 7th house brings taboo experiences when it comes to partners and long-term relationships. Your relationships may have a significant taboo nature to them. In my case, I had vertex and Lilith in my 7th house, which indicates not only taboo encounters but also fated meetings.

🔆 Sun in 9h: Will point towards a year of exploration and studying/learning new things. You may travel a lot during this year, or if you're seeking to study a big topic, expect to learn a lot. This could change your view of life. 9h is traditionally the house of God. More than likely, you'll find yourself learning more about God or feeling a calling to get closer to the masculine part of God.

🔆 Sun 3h: In the previous sun 3h note, I should have mentioned that the 9h represents the house of God, while the 3h represents the house of the goddess. If you have the sun in the 3h house of your Sr, you may find yourself tapping deeper into your feminine side. This can unlock your creativity and help you manifest your desires by using the ancient principles of the universe. Use your feminine charm to attract what you want and your feminine touch to expand your creative hobbies and talents. As someone who already has a spiritual nature and a sun in the 3h house of my Sr, I have felt a stronger pull to tap into my feminine energy, and have learned a lot about this aspect of my life.

🔆 Sharing the same Sr placement as a partner/friend: If you have this with a person you know, you guys could be super close and/or share a lot of the same experiences that year.

🔆 Vibilia 1h: Vibilia is the name for the Roman goddess of travel. @themedialmercurial made a post on this asteroid. I'll link it below. So you guys can go check your natal placements. However, in the 1h for SR charts, this asteroid can point towards guaranteed travel or even life-taking you through many journeys. The sign may give more insight into how this may play out. Also, it's a bonus if you have planets in the 9h house as well. Vibilia post: 1 2 3

Asteroid number (copy & paste) 

144

🔆 Juno 7h: May feel a need to commit or get in a relationship this year. Juno represents commitment and partnerships and with it entering the house of pong term partnerships/marriage. It's not uncommon to see these natives getting engaged, married, or entering a long-term connection. This will be even more prominent if you have a vertex here as well. 

SR Ascendant Ruler can show where a lot of your focus will be this year. 

🔆 1H RULER IN 3H: Your focus this year will be learning, traveling, writing, social media, and acquiring new skills. I would also recommend looking at where the planet of your solar return ascendant is in your natal chart. 

🔆 1H RULER IN 6H: Your focus this year will be work, schedules/routines, and health. You may struggle or gain in this area. You may find yourself wanting to create a steady schedule to keep yourself organized. You may also take on more responsibilities this year, this will be a year of working. Putting in those hours to get what you want, you could even be more prone to illnesses/ enemies this year. Your co-workers/work environment will affect you a lot. I would also recommend looking at where the planet of your solar return ascendant is in your natal chart. 

🔆 1H RULER IN 5H: Your focus this year will be having fun, doing what brings you joy, and possibly a lot of short-term flings. You may find yourself attending a lot more outings and parties. If not this then you'll be having a lot of attention and working on creative endeavors. This is a year of pleasure and individuality. So do what your heart desires, and take more of an interest in you. Associate yourself with people who make you happy. On the downside, you could become overly involved in partying, drinking, etc, and this may become detrimental to you. I would also recommend looking at where the planet of your solar return ascendant is in your natal chart. 

🔆 1H RULER IN 9H: Your focus this year will be travel, attaining wisdom, and becoming closer to God. You may be seen as adventurous and knowledgeable this year. People may be to you for advice this year as well. Travel and possibly even moving is a big chance here as well. Education, God, your beliefs, religion or spirituality, and life views will be important as well. I would also recommend looking at where the planet of your solar return ascendant is in your natal chart. 

🔆 1H RULER IN 2H: Your focus this year will be finances, assets, financial investments, financial literacy, and working to improve yourself and/or your worth. You may put a lot of energy towards building yourself up for a valuable future. And also enjoying yourself more or even spending more money. You may make a bug purchase this year that impacts your finances. I would also recommend looking at where the planet of your solar return ascendant is in your natal chart. 

🔆 Vertex in your Solar Return shows fated events that you WILL experience this year. These events will be signs of a pivotal point in your life and will affect the rest of your year. 

Vertex in 1h: Your appearance, how others see you, a person you meet may change how you and others view you

Vertex in 5h: You may experience a lot of joy and pleasure, sexual encounters, short-term flings, babies/children, creativity

Vertex in 6h: health, work, schedule/routines, more responsibility

Vertex in 7h: partners, may meet a long-term partner/marriage partner, weddings, and a venus-ruled/dominant person

Vertex in 8h: Strong passionate connections, intimacy, your shadow self, a very big life altering experience, inheritances, and death.

Vertex in 9h: travel, higher education, spiritual teachers, and your beliefs

Vertex in 10h: your career, reputation, authority figures, and accomplishments

Vertex in 11h: friend groups, worldly topics, friends, your goals and wishes

Vertex in 12h: spirituality, dreams, solitude, and illnesses

Vertex in 2h: finances, assets, family/generational wealth, resources. What is valuable to you, and gains

Vertex in 3h: speech, writing, neighbors, siblings/cousins, everyday commute, popularity, and social media

Vertex in 4h: Your mother, your home life, moving houses, your ancestry/roots, women in the family, your womb, and emotions.

🔆 Valentine (447) 1h: This asteroid represents love and is one of the strongest love asteroids, in my opinion. This occupying the 1h shows that you will most likely be falling in love especially if this conjuncts your asc, because it's also making an aspect to your dsc (7h, the house of partners/relationships). This will sweep you off your feet, and Valentine shows a sacrificial kind of love. Likely, you'll find yourself doing things you never thought you would do for love. This can be indicative of realizing you have fallen in love with a partner. 

🔆 Destinn (6583) 7h: This asteroid in solar return shows what is destined to happen this year. In the 7h, it will be destined for you to meet, get married, or get into a long-term impactful commitment. This encounter will likely feel fated. 

🔆 Sun conjunct Amor (1221) /Cupido (763): You could be a lover girl/boy this year. Amor means "love" in English. So, this being conjunct, your sun can show that some of this year's themes will be love. Cupido shows that Cupid will be shooting you with an arrow of love. You will find yourself deeply admiring a love interest. These are just the beginning stages of the strong feelings you will feel for this person. Expect a year of love. 

🔆 Lovelock (51663) 7h: You will likely meet a romantic partner whom you are deeply attached and form a deep loving bond with. This can show that you'll be locked and in love with this person as well. 

🔆 Union (1585) 7h: Imma keep this sweet & short.... yeah, you'll be coming into union with your person more than likely. This asteroid represents a union. Marriage is also likely to occur. 

Ps: Union conjunct sun can also signify this! 

🔆 Sunshine (3742) conjunct Venus: ☀️ Sunshine conjunct Venus, can show happiness when it comes to finances & love. You can experience great bliss and luck, it'll be like a breath of fresh air.

🔆 North Node conjunct Sunshine (3742): You will experience a lot of happiness this year if you have been having sadness/depression. This shows a forecast of Sunshine! Good days are ahead

🔆 Sunshine (3742) 1h: Similar to the north node, you will find yourself being very happy & satisfied with life and yourself. You could have an increase in self-confidence. You'll also be seen as a beam of light by those around you. Be sure to get a lot of sun, and summertime could benefit you greatly.

🔆 Briede (19029)/ Groom (5129) 1h/7h: likely to meet your spouse or be a bride/groom.

🔆 Boda (1487) conjunct Vertex: This shows a fated wedding happening. 

🔆 Vertex conjunct Alma (390): the point of fate meets the asteroid of the soul/soulmates. These two combined can show an encounter with a soulmate 

🔆 Eros (433) 1h/ conjunct asc: Eros is sexual attraction, in the 1h this shows you will experience sexual encounters & romance. 

🔆 2h ruler in 12h: Your finances may go through losses when it comes to finances. On the other hand, this can also show receiving money from hidden sources, or through spiritual practices. This can also show that manifestation and visualization can help you attract money. Since, the 2h is 11 places away from the 12h, and the 11th house rules dreams, goals, and aspirations. You can set a lot of unreasonable goals for your finances this year. The 12h is also the house of expenditures as it is ruled by Jupiter/Neptune. So you can gain a lot of money but also spend a lot, or either spend more than you have. If traveling abroad, you can spend a lot of money traveling. Be careful not to get scammed this year, and be watchful of your money because it could even get stolen or lost. Also spending money on spirituality. You will value your spirituality and alone time. 

🔆 2h ruler in 7h: Your finances will likely go towards a partner or a relationship, you could be the provider for your partner/spouse. This could show spending money on a business, or a wedding. This shows you will value your relationships. 

🔆 2h ruler in 2h: The 2h lord in the 2h, shows you will value money a lot this year, you'll have tunnel vision when it comes to finances. You can spend money trying to make money and investing. This is honestly pretty good for investing. You could also be wanting to spend money on things that have great value and bring you quality.

 

🔆 2h ruler in 8h: This combination, shows that you may be sharing your money, or even joining your assets with a close partner. This is the house of shared finances and joint ventures. So don't be surprised if you and your partner open up a shared account. This can show spending money on businesses. There may be inheritances, or loans involved this year. 

🔆 4h ruler in 12h: This year may indicate spending a lot of time at home, alone. This can also show deep emotional problems coming up. You can find your origins within spirituality, and even experience loneliness in your home life. The 12h rules foreign settlement, and the 4h is the home, so this may also show moving abroad, or finding a home in a foreign place. This can also indicate a strong spiritual connection to your ancestors. With the 4h showing what brings us comfort, this can show that spirituality, alone time, and water/foreign travel will bring you comfort. 

🔆 4h ruler in 9h: Similar to the 12h but less emotional, this can also show traveling, and find comfort, in traveling or settling in a place that is foreign to you. You will be expanding your horizons this year, and more than likely finding a new home. This can even show not having the most stable home, like you may travel a lot this year!

🔆 4h ruler in 7h: You may find yourself moving in with a partner, or being in a relationship that brings you a lot of comfort, and emotional security. This may be the year where you establish a long-lasting relationship. 

🔆 Pluto conjunct IC/ 4h: Your home life will change, and go through a transformation. This is an indication of moving to a new home! Your sense of security will be shaken up. This will be softened if you have the moon or Venus in the 4th house as well because Pluto can be super intense.

🔆 Uranus conjunct IC/ 4H: This is another big indicator of moving, and most likely a long-distance travel and it could be random. Because Uranus represents unexpected shocking changes, and it'll most likely happen very fast. 

🔆 Uranus conjunct DC/7H: This shows your partnerships, which will be surprising. There may be something unexpected happening in this area, this doesn't always have to be horrible especially if you have benefic planets here as well. If it's here alone, then this may show a long distance or relationship that has a lot of ups and downs. This can show your partners may be unconventional in any sense, they could even be from a different caste than you. With Venus and Uranus here, you may unexpectedly get engaged, or married. This can show an unexpected/ surprising love meeting as well. 

🔆 Fortuna (19) in 1h/conjunct ASC: This placement, can indicate fortune and luck coming to you this year!

🔆 Fortuna (19) in 2h: Fortune when it comes to your finances, and extra money. 

🔆 Atira (163693) in 1h/conjunct ASC: This asteroid represents prosperity through selflessness, so this year you may find you do things for others that bring you abundance. You may have to make sacrifices this year to gain something bigger & better. 

🔆 Midas (1981) in 1h/ conjunct ASC: Everything you touch this year will turn to gold. Your skills/talents will bring you a lot of abundance. Others will see you as a source of good luck. Expect major fortunes this year. 

🔆 Amalthea (113) in 1h/conjunct ASC: Amalthea represents infinite abundance, so this one is pretty self-explanatory. This year, money will find you regardless of circumstances, you could receive massive amounts of opportunities, and lucky situations coming towards you. This could even show blessings when it comes to your physical appearance. 

🔆 Opportunity (39382): Depending on the house placement can show where you are likely to receive the opportunity this year. In the 1st house you will be brought many opportunities, you can have many chances to go towards your goals. In the 2h, your finances, and how much money you spend. This could result in having many opportunities to make or spend money, or even save. This could also be great for investments.

🔆 Tyche (258) in 2h: Luck in finances...

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Happy New Year, and let me know if you want to see my solar return chart for 2024!

𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐃𝐞'𝐋𝐮𝐱𝐞

𝐇𝐨𝐭 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐲

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

[colleendoran]

Great Big Good Omens Graphic Novel Update

AKA A Visit From Bildad the Shuhite.

The past year or so has been one long visit from this guy, whereupon he smiteth my goats and burneth my crops, woe unto the woeful cartoonist.

Gaze upon the horror of Bildad the Shuhite.

You kind of have to be a Good Omens fan to get this joke, but trust me, it's hilarious.

Anyway, as a long time Good Omens novel fan, you may imagine how thrilled I was to get picked to adapt the graphic novel.

 Go me!  

This is quite a task, I have to say, especially since I was originally going to just draw (and color) it, but I ended up writing the adaptation as well. Tricky to fit a 400 page novel into a 160-ish page graphic novel, especially when so much of the humor is dependent on the language, and not necessarily on the visuals.

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Anyway, I started out the gate like a herd of turtles, because  right away I got COVID which knocked me on my butt. 

And COVID brain fog? That's a thing. I already struggle with brain fog due to autoimmune disease, and COVID made it worse.

Not complainin' just sayin'.

This set a few of the assignments on my plate back, which pushed starting Good Omens back. 

But hey, big fat lead time! No worries!

Then my computer crawled toward the grave.

My trusty MAC Pro Tower was nearly 15 years old when its sturdy heart ground to a near-halt with daily crashes. I finally got around to doing some diagnostics; some of its little brain actions were at 5% functionality. I had no reliable backups.

There are so many issues with getting a new computer when you haven't had a new computer or peripherals in nearly fifteen years and all of your software, including your Photoshop program is fifteen years old.

At the time, I was still on rural internet...which means dial-up speed.

Whatever you have for internet in the city, roll that clock back to about 2001.

That's what I had. I not only had to replace almost all of my hardware but I had to load and update all programs at dial-up speed.

Welcome to my gigabyte hell.

The entire process of replacing the equipment and programs took weeks and then I had to relearn all the software.

All of this was super expensive in terms of money and time cost.

But I was not daunted! Nosirree!

I still had a huge lead time! I can do anything! I have an iron will!

And boy, howdy, I was going to need it.

At about the same time, a big fatcat quadrillionaire client who had hired me years ago to develop a big, major transmedia project for which I was paid almost entirely in stock, went bankrupt leaving everyone holding the bag, and taking a huge chunk of my future retirement fund with it.

I wrote a very snarky almost hilarious Patreon post about it, but am not entirely in a position to speak freely because I don't want to get sued. Even though I had to go to court over it, (and I had to do that over Zoom at dial-up speed,) I'm pretty sure I'll never get anything out of this drama, and neither will anyone else involved, except millionaire dude and his buddies who all walked away with huge multi-million dollar bonuses weeks before they declared bankruptcy, all the while claiming they would not declare bankruptcy.

Even the accountant got $250,000 a month to shut down the business, while creators got nothing.

That in itself was enough drama for the year, but we were only at February by that point, and with all those months left, 2023 had a lot more to throw at me.

Fresh from my return from my Society of Illustrators show, and a lovely time at MOCCA, it was time to face practical medical issues, health updates, screening, and the like. I did my adult duty and then went back to work hoping for no news, but still had a weird feeling there would be news.

I know everyone says that, but I mean it. I had a bad feeling.

Then there was news.

I was called back for tests and more tests. This took weeks. The ubiquitous biopsy looked, even to me staring at the screen in real time, like bad news. 

It also hurt like a mofo after the anesthesia wore off. I wasn't expecting that.

Then I got the official bad news.

Cancer which runs in my family finally got me. Frankly, I was surprised I didn't get it sooner.

Stage 0, and treatment would likely be fast and complication-free. Face the peril, get it over with, and get back to work. 

I requested surgery months in the future so I could finish Good Omens first, but my doc convinced me the risk of waiting was too great. Get it done now.

"You're really healthy," my doc said. Despite an auto-immune issue which plagues me, I am way healthier than the average schmoe of late middle age. She informed me I would not even need any chemo or radiation if I took care of this now.

So I canceled my appearance at San Diego Comic Con. I did not inform the Good Omens team of my issues right away, thinking this would not interfere with my work schedule, but I did contact my agent to inform her of the issue. I also contacted a lawyer to rewrite my will and make sure the team had access to my digital files in case there were complications.

Then I got back to work, and hoped for the best.

Eff this guy.

Before I could even plant my carcass on the surgery table, I got a massive case of ocular shingles.

I didn't even know there was such a thing. 

There I was, minding my own business. I go to bed one night with a scratchy eye, and by 4 PM the next day, I was in the emergency room being told if I didn't get immediate specialist treatment, I was in big trouble.

I got transferred to another hospital and got all the scary details, with the extra horrid news that I could not possibly have cancer surgery until I was free of shingles, and if I did not follow a rather brutal treatment procedure - which meant super-painful  eye drops every half hour, twenty-four hours a day and daily hospital treatment - I could lose the eye entirely, or be blinded, or best case scenario, get permanent eye damage.

What was even funnier (yeah, hilarity) is the drops are so toxic if you don't use the medication just right, you can go blind anyway.

Hi Ho.

Ulcer is on the right. That big green blob.

I had just finished telling my cancer surgeon I did not even really care about getting cancer, was happy it was just stage zero, had no issues with scarring, wanted no reconstruction, all I cared about was my work. 

Just cut it out and get me back to work.

And now I wondered if I was going to lose my ability to work anyway.

Shingles often accompanies cancer because of the stress on the immune system, and yeah, it's not pretty. This is me looking like all heck after I started to get better.

The first couple of weeks were pretty demoralizing as I expected a straight trajectory to wellness. But it was up and down all the way. 

Some days I could not see out of either eye at all. The swelling was so bad that I had to reach around to my good eye to prop the lid open. Light sensitivity made seeing out of either eye almost impossible. Outdoors, even with sunglasses, I had to be led around by the hand.

I had an amazing doctor. I meticulously followed his instructions, and I think he was surprised I did. The treatment is really difficult, and if you don't do it just right no matter how painful it gets, you will be sorry. 

To my amazement, after about a month, my doctor informed me I had no vision loss in the eye at all. "This never happens," he said.

I'd spent a couple of weeks there trying to learn to draw in the near-dark with one eye, and in the end, I got all my sight back.

I could no longer wear contact lenses (I don't really wear them anyway, unless I'm going to the movies,) would need hard core sun protection for awhile, and the neuralgia and sun sensitivity were likely to linger. But I could get back to work.

I have never been more grateful in my life.

Neuralgia sucks, by the way, I'm still dealing with it months later.

Anyway, I decided to finally go ahead and tell the Good Omens team what was going on, especially since this was all happening around the time the Kickstarter was gearing up.

Now that I was sure I'd passed the eye peril, and my surgery for Stage 0 was going to be no big deal, I figured all was a go. I was still pretty uncomfortable and weak, and my ideal deadline was blown, but with the book not coming out for more than a year, all would be OK. I quit a bunch of jobs I had lined up to start after Good Omens, since the project was going to run far longer than I'd planned.

Everybody on the team was super-nice, and I was pretty optimistic at this time. But work was going pretty slow during, as you may imagine.

But again...lots of lead time still left, go me.

Then I finally got my surgery.

Which was not as happy an experience as I had been hoping for.

My family said the doc came out of the operating room looking like she'd been pulled backwards through a pipe, She informed them the tumor which looked tiny on the scan was "...huge and her insides are a mess."

Which was super not fun news.

Eff this guy.

The tumor was hiding behind some dense tissue and cysts. After more tests, it was determined I'd need another surgery and was going to have to get further treatments after all.

The biopsy had been really painful, but the discomfort was gone after about a week, so no biggee. The second surgery was, weirdly, not as painful as the biopsy, but the fatigue was big time.

By then, the Good Omens Kickstarter had about run its course, and the record-breaker was both gratifying and a source of immense social pressure.

I'd already turned most of my social media over to an assistant, and I'm glad I did.

But the next surgery was what really kicked me on my keister.

All in all, they took out an area the size of a baseball. It was  hard to move and wiped me out for weeks and weeks. I could not take care of myself. I'd begun losing hair by this time anyway, and finally just lopped it off since it was too heavy for me to care for myself. The cut hides the bald spots pretty well.

After about a month, I got the go-ahead to travel to my show at the San Diego Comic Con Museum (which is running until the first week of April, BTW). I was very happy I had enough energy to do it. But as soon as I got back, I had to return to treatment.

Since I live way out in the country, going into the city to various hospitals and pharmacies was a real challenge. I made more than 100 trips last year, and a drive to the compounding pharmacy which produced the specialist eye medicine I could not get anywhere else was six hours alone.

Naturally, I wasn't getting anything done during this time.

But at least my main hospital is super swank.

The oncology treatment went smoothly, until it didn't. The feels don't hit you until the end. By then I was flattened.

So flattened that I was too weak to control myself, fell over, and smashed my face into some equipment.

Nearly tore off my damn nostril.

Eff this guy.

Anyway, it was a bad year.

Here's what went right.

I have a good health insurance policy. The final tally on my health care costs ended up being about $150,000. I paid about 18% of that, including insurance. I had a high deductible and some experimental medicine insurance didn't cover. I had savings,  enough to cover the months I wasn't working, and my Patreon is also very supportive. So you didn't see me running a Gofundme or anything.

Thanks to everyone who ever bought one of my books.

No, none of that money was Good Omens Kickstarter money. I won't get most of my pay on that for months, which is just as well because it kept my taxes lower last year when I needed a break.

So, yay.

My nose is nearly healed. I opted out of plastic surgery, and it just sealed up by itself. I'll never be ready for my closeup, but who the hell cares.

I got to ring the bell.

I had a very, VERY hard time getting back to work, especially with regard to focus and concentration. My work hours dropped by over 2/3. I was so fractured and weak, time kept slipping away while I sat in the studio like a zombie. Most of the last six months were a wash.

I assumed focus issues were due (in part) to stress, so sought counseling. This seemed like a good idea at first, but when the counselor asked me to detail my issues with anxiety, I spent two weeks doing just that and getting way more anxious, which was not helpful.

After that I went EFF THIS NOISE, I want practical tools, not touchy feelies (no judgment on people who need touchy-feelies, I need a pragmatic solution and I need it now,) so tried using the body doubling focus group technique for concentration and deep work.

Within two weeks, I returned to normal work hours.

I got rural broadband, jumping me from dial up speed to 1 GB per second.

It's a miracle.

Massive doses of Vitamin D3 and K2. Yay.

The new computer works great.

The Kickstarter did so well, we got to expand the graphic novel to 200 pages. Double yay.

I'm running late, but everyone on the Good Omens team is super supportive. I don't know if I am going to make the book late or not, but if I do, well, it surely wasn't on purpose, and it won't be super late anyway. I still have months of lead time left.

I used to be something of a social media addict, but now I hardly ever even look at it, haven't been directly on some sites in over a year, and no longer miss it. It used to seem important and now doesn't.

More time for real life.

While I think the last year aged me about twenty years, I actually like me better with short hair. I'm keeping it.

OK. Rough year. 

Not complainin', just sayin'.

Back to work on The Book.

And only a day left to vote for Good Omens, Neil Gaiman, and Sandman in the Comicscene Awards. Thanks. 

[drabblesandimagines]

Swingin'

Leon Kennedy x female reader, established relationship, absolutely fluffy nonsense once again

“Stand here for me, ma’am.”

You giggle at the odd term of address as familiar hands maneuverer you forward into position by your hips, the owner of said hands stepping back in front of you when they seemed happy with your positioning.

“Now, put your left index finger on your nose.”

You roll your eyes. “You can’t seriously be making your girlfriend take a field impairment test.”

Leon crosses his arms, trademark smirk on his lips. “Oh, I’m serious, sweetheart. Left index finger – go.”

You swallow down a hiccup as you follow his order, finding your nose with ease and smile, triumphantly.

“Now with your right.”

That one doesn’t go as smooth, your finger sliding down the side and prodding yourself in the cheek before you reposition, finding it at last. “Oops.”

“Arms straight down by your sides.” You comply at once, straightening your posture as you do. “Place your left foot directly in front of your right, heel touching toes.”

That one is a little more tricky to follow, you admit, but you think you’ve nailed it after a little bit of shuffling, though your boyfriend doesn’t look entirely convinced.

“Walk forward – heel to toe every step and count aloud.”

“Heel to toe…” You mutter, looking down at your feet. “One.” You swing your right leg round a bit too dramatically and your foot lands too far in front of your left but you persevere.

“Two.” Another big step forward has you throwing your arms out for balance.

“Arms straight down by your sides, sweetpea.” Leon chides.

You huff, dropping them back down and scoot your foot backward, before stepping forward with the other. “Three…”

Unfortunately, you step too far off to the right, nearly losing your balance completely before Leon steadies you with a firm grip on your elbow.

“Yep, you are 100% not riding on the back.”

“But I promise to hold on real tight.” You press your face into his chest then, wrapping your arms around his waist in demonstration and giving a firm squeeze to show off your strength.

“Not a risk I’m willing to take.” Leon wraps his arms around you in return and presses a kiss to your crown. All it would take was for you to let go around a corner and…

He shudders, can’t even bear to imagine any further. Nope, not happening.

“I’m sorry.” Your words are muffled, feeling like an annoyance. “I really didn’t think I’d drank that much.”

And you hadn’t, it had only really hit you when you’d exited the bar into the fresh air to meet Leon on the sidewalk. He’d parked his bike a block or so away from the venue and that short, stumbled walk had set alarm bells ringing.

“I’m sure you didn’t, little lightweight that you are.” He teases. “Come on, it’s not too far a walk from here anyway – might help you sober up.”

You pull your head back and look up at him, brows furrowed. “What about your bike?”

He looks at it – his prized Ducati, security lock already in place from when he left it to walk towards the bar – and shrugs. “I can get it in the morning.”

“Uh-uh,” you step back, Leon loosening his arms as you do but still keeping you close. “You take the bike and I’ll walk home. Ooh, I could jog alongside!”

Leon smiles in amusement, but shakes his head. “Not happening.”

You look down at your feet, double-checking you were in fact wearing flats and not heels when Leon doesn’t take you seriously. He’s in his military-grade boots, as usual. You’re not sure how they can be comfortable to walk in, steel-capped toes, but he never seems to complain.

“Okay, how about you wheel it home as I walk?”

“Why are you so concerned about me leaving my bike?”

“Are you kidding me? You have the worst luck with it. If you leave it here, it’ll get stolen or hit by a truck, or… struck by lightning.”

“And my insurance covers all of those.” He turns you, gently, one arm snug around your waist and encourages you to take a step forward. “Come on, let’s get home.”

You wrap an arm tentatively around his waist in return and only make it a few steps before your insecurities arise. “Leon…”

“Mm?”

“Are you mad at me?”

“Not at all, sweetheart.” He squeezes your hip in reassurance. “Why would I be? You had fun, right?”

“Yeah, I did.” You nod, thinking back over the evening. You’d met up with your friends to catch-up over some cocktails, a rare evening where you’d all happened to be free. “It was so nice seeing them all. Tabitha’s been through two boyfriends since the last time we managed it.”

“She still dating jerks?” He frowns, familiar with her tales of dating woe.

“Sadly. Are you sure there’s no suitable guys at your work?”

“Oh, I’m one of a kind, baby,” he chuckles. “Don’t wanna set her up for disappointment.”

“Maybe this one will be diff… Ooh, look!” You point just up ahead, your attention span apparently at an all-time low. “They finally finished the renovations!”

The playpark had been taped off for a while – the equipment old and outdated and more than a little bit dangerous. You pull away from him and race through the gate, making a beeline for the swings. Leon jogs behind you, stopping a few feet in front of the swing-set and places his hands on his hips as you plonk yourself down and kick your feet against the fresh tarmac.

“I don’t think you’re the demographic they’re looking for, sweetheart.”

“Says you.” You tease, the agent having a handful of more years on you. “When’s the last time you sat on a swing anyway?”

“I dunno, 30 years ago?”

“Long overdue.” You jerk your head at the swing besides you. “Bet I can swing higher than you can.”

He tilts his head and smiles. “I’m sure you can.”

“Leon, come on.” You pout, scuffing your soles on the tarmac again as you swing half-heartedly back and forth. “Please?”

How could he ever say no to that face?

He rolls his eyes and walks over to the swing, sitting down heavily as instructed, wrapping his fingers around the chains. “Happy?”

“Uh-uh, not until you swing, Kennedy.” You kick your feet against the ground in demonstration, picking up some height and speed as Leon follows suit.

You look at him and grin as the two of you begin to swing in sync, getting higher and higher. Leon’s smile only grows wider as the wind rushes through his hair.

It takes him back for a moment – back to before he knew what Umbrella and BOWs were. He still has his jokes, of course, but it had been a while since he’d allowed himself to be a little bit silly.

You just make it far too easy.

He scuffs his boots against the ground to slow down his movement and watches as you follow suit, tilting your head in concern.

“You okay?”

“Mm-hm. Come here,” he pats his lap and you jump off mid-swing, somehow managing to keep upright. Leon rolls his eyes and stops his swing completely as you step over and drop yourself sideways onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck for stability.

“I can’t ride on the back of your bike, but I can sit on your lap whilst you swing, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” he lets go of the chain and cups your face. “I just wanted a kiss.”

He closes the gap then with a soft kiss, one full of utter adoration – not too firm, but one that makes your scalp tingle as his lips caress yours, over and over.

He pulls away to lean his forehead against yours.

“I love you, sweetheart. Thanks for keeping me young.”

You let go of his neck to pat his chest, chidingly. “Come on, you’re not that old. You were swinging pretty high.”

“Yeah, guess I was.” The cocky grin crosses his face then. “Higher than you, actually.”

“Uh-uh”, you shake your head, adamantly. “You just think that cos you’re a little bit taller.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

But he’s lost you, your attention fixed on something over his shoulder. “Ooh, they’ve got a new slide too!”

You make Leon try every piece of play equipment before finally heading home, but his smile never drops.

--

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi

Comments and reblogs make my whole day x

[not100bees]

but that being said they have added two things that i've been wanting for forever: expanded the number of animal companions and they've added clothes patterns

[unequivocallyreid]

Do You Get It Yet?

hi guys!! this is one day late, but i literally fell asleep trying to proof read last night, so… you win some you lose some.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: Spencer Reid is your professor and you really, really need help. If only he wasn’t so distracting.

warnings: smut, little bit of fluff, professor/student relationship, unprotected sex w/ talk of contraceptives, age gap (both parties of age), breeding kink, choking, and some light degradation

this is a fun one guys! let me know what you think!

You swear you aren’t stupid. Really, honestly you aren’t. You’ve done well in school your whole life, not always outstanding, but you’ve always done well.

Right now however, you feel completely dumb. You’re in you third year of university, and up to this point, you’ve done good. Your classes are challenging but rewarding, and you have a wonderful group of people in your life. You have a cat and an apartment to yourself. You have wonderful friends, Lena and Eden, who’ve been with you since your freshman year and who you loved like sisters. Everything in your life was going right, except for your stupid, stupid criminal psychology class.

You should love it. You’ve taken classes like it before and they really weren’t a problem for you, but for whatever reason, you can’t wrap your head around the subject matter at all. Everything you learn seems to morph together and you can’t get it to sort itself out. Your teacher, Dr. Reid, is incredible. He is a genuine genius, member of the BAU (your dream job), and to top it off, he is incredibly attractive. Not just to you either! Half the class is auditing, which probably contributes to your troubles. It’s hard to focus when everyone around you is constantly whispering about how fucking hot the teacher is.

You try to avoid it. You sit at the front of the room, not the first row, but still front and center. Even so, right behind you are two or three girls who will not stop talking about him. Sure, they’re saying what you’re thinking, but good god does it get annoying. You’ve tried pointed looks, a few aggressive hair flips and humphs, and even a few well timed shushings, but they will not let up. You’d move seats but the class is full and everyone has seemed to have already found a place.

So, really, your lack of understanding was not only on you. Dr. Reid us distractingly hot, the girls behind you will not shut up, and the subject matter is just plain tricky. All of this leads you to spend a big chunk of your free time in your professors office hours, which always seem to be full.

You get it. Girls, and some boys, show up looking their best and asking all sorts of questions, and honestly if you were in a different position you’d probably do the same thing. But, you aren’t, and you really need help. You go to his room completely disheveled with a notebook full of questions that for the most part stayed unanswered. You’re lucky to get five minutes of his undivided attention. Again, you get it, those minutes are the highlights of you week, but, your grade is starting to slip.

Finally, it gets to be too much, and you find yourself spending nearly the whole class building up the courage to ask to speak with him privately. Right when he concludes his lecture you spring up out of your seat and go straight to him, surely annoying some of your other classmates.

“Dr. Reid?”

He looks up from his desk, “Hi! Ms.?”

“Y/n. Or Y/l/n, I guess. I was hoping to talk to you privately if you had time?”

“Oh! Um, sure, of course. Let me just wrap up here. You can wait in the seats.”

This has already gone better than you thought it would. Half of you expected the only thing that would come out of your mouth would be gibberish.

“Thank you so much.”

You hurry off to take a seat and wait, and wait, and wait. Around five other people stay around to try and speak with him, and while you catch him anxiously glancing over at you, each conversation still seems to stretch on and on. Finally, after close to 15 minutes, the final student leaves and it’s just you and Dr. Reid left in the room.

He looks over at you and motions for you to join him at his desk, “I’m so sorry that took so long. People tend to have a lot of questions after my lectures.”

You take a seat in front of him, “It’s no worries. That was actually part of what I wanted to speak to you about.”

You pause, wondering how you should word what you want to say. He looks at you, waiting for you to go on, but he doesn’t seem impatient.

“I’ve come to all your office hours, and it helps, I’m just still struggling and I, uh, I just feel like it’s not enough time to get my questions answered, I guess?”

You’re looking at anything but him at this point, “I’m sorry I’m just kinda out of my element. I love this subject and normally it clicks for me, but it’s just won’t. I have a notebook full of questions and I’m worried I won’t be able to figure anything out. Sorry, I think I’m just rambling at this point.”

“No, don’t apologize, I understand. This class is challenging, and a lot of the subject matter is hard to research.”

He stops to laugh, “My office hours do tend to be pretty full. I’m, well to be honest I’m not sure why. A lot of the questions people have tend to be things I explained in my lectures.”

Without thinking, you cut him off, “I think people just want to be around you.”

He looks surprised at your words, and you are as well. You didn’t mean to say that at all.

“Oh my god, I’m sorry. It’s just with a teacher that looks like you, god, no. I mean with a teacher like you-“

Your cheeks grow hotter by the second, “You know what, I think I can figure this out on my own! I’m sorry for-“

He stops you before you can finish, “Y/n, I’ve taught this class before. Half the people are auditing. I’ve gathered what that means.”

He cracks a smile at that and you feel your heart flutter.

“I meant I’m not sure why people would waste their time trying to, uh, impress me at office hours. They’re meant for students like you.”

“Oh, yeah, of course.”

“Unfortunately, there isn’t much I can do on that front. My hours are open to anyone.”

Your shoulders deflate a bit at that, worrying you’ve wasted your time and his for nothing. He doesn’t let you stay like that for long though.

“I want to help you though. Truly. I know reaching out for help is hard and I’m glad you did.”

You look up at him then, “I can set aside some time for you once a week if you’re comfortable? We can review everything you’re not sure on until you’re up to speed.”

You were not expecting that. You thought he’d look over your questions and give you some articles and journals to review at best.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t. I’m offering, Y/n.”

“Then I think yes, I’d like that a lot.”

“Great! Email me some times that work for you and we’ll get started.”

~

This is all, admittedly, a bit above your pay grade.

Despite your best efforts, you are not a chill girl. You’re not very cool. There’s nothing wrong with that usually! You’re shy, but still manage to talk people’s ear off. It’s normally a non-issue: that’s just how you are. Today however, you are meeting with Dr. Reid and you are so not chill about it.

You had his class yesterday, and while you feel better knowing you’ll finally have help, you couldn’t focus on anything but today, so you retained nothing. All you can think about is saying something stupid or off putting and having him start to despise you.

You know you shouldn’t worry this much. He’s a professional, you’re trying to be, it should all go smoothly. They’re just the issue of the colony of butterflies who have taken up residence in your stomach. You’re nervous, so nervous, and you are not the type to get this crazy over some guy. Yes, Dr. Reid is probably the hottest person you’ve ever met, but he’s still human! You think… the fact that he’s some sort of super genius with multiple (multiple!) phds does not help to calm you.

Your entire walk to Dr. Reid’s office is spent worrying over all of this. In fact, you’re so caught in your head you find yourself barreling into someone’s back as you walk through the door of the psychology department.

You rush to squeak out an apology while picking up your notebook, but are stopped short when you look up. It’s Dr. Reid. Of course it’s Dr. Reid. You seem unable to be in the same vicinity of him without making a fool of yourself, so why would today be any different. You’d hoped to be able to manage yourself for the better part of an hour, but your professors unbelievably solid back has literally knocked you on your ass.

You do notice a ghost of a smile on his face when you look up, and you’d like to think he’s admiring you clumsiness, but it’s not likely.

“Hi,” you manage to say after a near excruciatingly long silence.

“I’m really sorry, I clearly wasn’t looking at where I was walking.”

He laughs a bit, “It’s no problem honestly. You were the one knocked off your feet, so I really can’t be upset aside from the fact you may have hurt yourself.”

This makes you breath hitch a bit. Maybe you are incredibly starved for attention from the male gender, but the slight affection of his words made you blush.

“Oh, yeah, sure.”

If you were any more articulate you’d be a public speaker, but at least you always seem to make the man in front of you laugh.

“I was on my way to my office to meet with you, but since I already have, you can walk with me.”

You nod, pushing yourself off the ground, then blush again when you realize you had this entire conversation on the ground.

The walk is silent, and you’re sure it’s more uncomfortable for you than it is for him. Any question you had has completely exited your mind, and all you can think about is how good he looks in a suit, and how much staring you can reasonably get away with.

Your first session is sweet. You manage to hold it together in Dr. Reid’s presence. He is incredibly helpful one on one, and you feel more confident about the class than you have in weeks. Before you finish, he asks if you’d like to meet again.

“Yeah, if that’s alright. This helped so much, but I think I still probably need to do some more catch up work.”

“That’s perfectly fine, Y/n, I wouldn’t have offered otherwise.”

He pauses for a moment, like he’s considering something, before going on.

“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to give you my cell. I want you to be able to reach me if you need to reschedule, especially if we continue meeting, and it’s a bit easier than email.”

You’re a bit stunned but manage to reply, “Of course! But, um, is that allowed? I don’t want to over step.”

He looks away from you for a moment before replying, “I’m honestly not sure. Maybe we just don’t tell anyone?”

You have to bite back a grin, but you nod nonetheless and exchange numbers.

Although you know you shouldn’t be, you’re giddy the entire walk home.

~

So far, you’ve met with Dr. Reid three times and haven’t had to use his number once. Not that you’d been looking for an opportunity to though! It just hasn’t come up at all until today.

It’s been raining all morning, which normally you wouldn’t mind, but you’re slightly under the weather and the thought of walking to campus and risking getting more sick doesn’t sound appealing in the slightest. Though it’s not normally an issue, moments like this make you really wish you had a car.

You’ve asked everyone you knew for a ride, but they were all busy.

Currently, you were on the phone with Lena, listening as she tries to calm you down.

“He gave you his number, Y/n. Just text him and say you’re sick and can’t make it.”

“It’s the day of though! I don’t want to come off as unprofessional.”

“Babe, again, you have his number. Your relationship isn’t exactly the most profesh in the first place.”

“It’s not like that, Lena.”

“Just text him. Over explain everything like you know you want to. He’ll probably think it’s cute, maybe he’ll even offer to come take care of you.”

You can hear the teasing lilt in her voice, but, still, you rush to defend him.

“You know it’s not like that.”

“Whatever you say, babe. I gotta go, but text him. It’ll be fine.”

You say your goodbyes, and deep down you know she’s right. About texting him, not the shy sort of seduction act she thinks you have.

After contemplating for a few more minutes, you type out your message and hit send.

You: Hi, Dr. Reid. This is Y/n from your criminal psych class. I know we’re supposed to meet today, but I’m feeling like I have a bit of a cold coming on and don’t want to risk walking in the rain.

You: I’m sorry it’s late notice, if I could get there I would, scout’s honor.

You were never in girl scouts. You don’t actually know why you said that at all, but it’s too late to take it back now.

As much as you try not to, you watch your phone screen, waiting for a response.

Luckily, you don’t have to wait long. You see a typing bubble pop up, then disappear, then pop up again, before finally two messages come through.

Dr. Reid: I completely understand. Don’t worry.

Dr. Reid: I could come to you? If you’re comfortable.

When you read that, you feel your stomach drop to your ass. You decidedly not expect him to offer anything like that. A few things fly through your mind, but mainly that Lena may have been right, and having your professor come to your apartment is, at least, frowned up by admin. Still, the image of him in front of you, in your home, with your cat, is too much to resist.

With shaking fingers, you text him back.

You: That would be wonderful if you’re sure you’re okay with it.

You: Friendly warning, I have a very affectionate cat.

Dr. Reid: Good to know. Is 4 still alright?

You shoot him back a quick yes and your address, and then get to cleaning every square inch of your apartment.

~

Dr. Reid is an angel on Earth.

When you hear a knock at your door, you have to stop before answering to regulate your breathing. When you finally do, you see your professor in front of you in a cardigan (a fucking cardigan) and togo cup of tea that he immediately hands to you.

It’s all like a hopeless romantics wet dream. Hot professor, in the rain, at your house, who clearly cares about you in some way? It’s like he’s trying to kill you.

You step aside to let him in and move to your couch, “You really didn’t have to do this.”

He stands for a moment before sitting at the opposite end and saying through a laugh,“The tea or coming over?”

“Both, I guess? I just feel bad that Ive take up so much of your time. I feel like a bit of an inconvenience.”

“Y/n, please stop worrying so much over this. I want to help you learn, it’s not an inconvenience or a both or unnecessary.”

You really look at him then, trying to read whether or not he’s being genuinely. He just seems too good to be true, like he’s a fiction character made just for you. Well, not just for you, but in your fantasies that’s how you’ll think about it.

The next couple hours are spent reviewing material you are sure he taught weeks ago and stealing glancing at his mouth when you are sure he is not looking. Your kitty makes a few appearances too, and seems to have formed an instant attachment to the doctor. You are not as sly with your staring as you’d like to think, and get caught a few too many times. Honestly, you are trying desperately not to think about anything but academia, but he makes it so unbelievably hard. Not to put the blame on him for your insatiability, but jesus fuck. Intelligence has always been incredibly sexy to you, and it oozes from him

Despite the distraction, you’ve been doing good in terms of building your understanding. Now however, you are on the verge of tears, chocking down a knot in your throat as you try to make sense of anything coming out of Dr. Reid’s mouth. This has to be the third time he’d tried to explain it to you, and while this is the entire point of these meetings, you feel like a failure.

The doctor is lost in his own world, trying desperately to explain the concept in a digestible way, so he doesn’t notice your state. That is, until you sniffle, just slightly, and immediately avert your gaze.

He cuts himself off, “Y/n? Are, are you okay? What’s wrong.”

It’s too much, so too much. What kind of dick asks something like that, with that much care in his voice. You can’t help the tears starting to fall.

“I’m so sorry. I just, I can’t understand it.”

He looks at you with his beautiful eyes and says, “Y/n, it’s okay-“

“No. God, you must think I’m a fucking idiot. No, not fucking, I didn’t mean to say fuck in front of you. God this is terrible.”

You’re fully crying at this point, and you can’t bear to look at Dr. Reid.

He stays silent for a moment, before you feel movement on the couch and look up to see he is much closer to you.

“You’re incredibly intelligent, Y/n. I, I would never judge you for needing help.”

You bury your face in your palms, and, very eloquently, try to speak through them.

“Sir, you really don’t need to say that. I know I should have been able to grasp this weeks ago, all of this.”

“Spencer.”

You look up, “What?”

“My name is Spencer. You don’t have to call me sir or Dr. Reid. I’d like for you to call me Spencer.”

“Well, Spencer then. I’m sorry for wasting your time. I really don’t know why I thought any of this would help, clearly there’s something seriously wrong with-“

You’re cut off by a hand on your jaw, guiding you to look up. Dr. Reid’s hand. Spencer’s hand, and it’s gentle and he’s staring at you, and you feel like your skin is on fire underneath his palm.

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Y/n. You’re one of the most capable, intelligent people I’ve ever met. I’m breaking nearly 20 different codes of contact by being here, but I can’t help it.”

You feel all your words caught in your throat, and all you can fucking think about is his hand and his eyes and his lips. You don’t know what else to do, so, in an act of unusual bravery, you push forward and press your lips to his.

The response is immediate. All thoughts in your head are gone and replaced by a mantra of Spencer’s name. You feel his hands move to the nape of your neck, holding you to him, and his lips pressing yours open so he can glide his tongue over yours. You’re breathless and ruined, and when he pulls back you’re too struck by him to speak.

“You have no idea what you do to me, Y/n. I’ve never wanted anyone like this before”

Your forehead is pressed to his and you breath out, “Show me.”

The hand on you tightens its grip, but the man before you pulls back a bit, and it becomes your only point of contact.

“I, I can’t. I’m your teacher, I’m nearly 20 years older than you. I shouldn’t have even kissed you.”

“I kissed you. I want you, this. I want whatever you’ll give me.”

“It’s wrong, Y/n.”

“I don’t care. I want you, Spencer.”

Hearing you say his name must break his resolve, because in a moment his lips find yours again, and he’s pulling you into his lap.

To recap, you’re in your home, on your couch, straddling the hottest man you’ve ever seen, and his lips are trailing down your neck and over your clavicle. You put your arms around his neck, threading your hands through his hair and experimentally rolling your hips against his.

His hands grab your hips, stilling your movement, and breaks from his assault on your neck to say, “I won’t be able to control myself if you do that, Y/n. I need to know what you want.”

“I want all of it, doctor.”

The honorific must do something for him, because he growls low in his throat before once again connecting with your lips. The same hands that just stilled your movement now guide your hips to press into him harder. You feel his length beneath you and moan into his mouth.

You’d fantasized about this for months, but now it’s actually happening and it’s so much better than you could have ever imagined. You feel him every where, and he knows exactly what to do and whisper in your ear to drive you fucking crazy.

You move your hands from his hair and break from his lips to pull your shirt off. You make eye contact with him and then reach behind your back to unclasp your bra, leaving that part of yourself entirely exposed to him.

“Fuck, Y/n.”

The expletive takes you by surprise for a moment, but you snap out of it quickly, taking one of his hands and bringing it to your chest. He moves quickly from that point, cupping your breast in his hand and toying with your nipple. Your lips find his again, and you feel him move to flip you, but you stop him before he can.

“Bedroom, Spencer. Please.”

He nods and you climb from his lap. On your way to the room, he discards his shirt. You can’t help but ogle his frame. He’s slender and sinewy, but you’d be lying if you said he wasn’t the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. The angles and curves of his frame fit

together to create the perfect portrait of a man. He has scars littered over his arms and torso, but they don’t phase you.

You’re under him on the bed now, your core raising to meet his desperately.

“You’re so beautiful. So beautiful, I’m so lucky.”

His words cause a blush to form on your cheeks, which you can barely focus on as his hands are in the process of pulling your shorts and panties down your legs.

“God, Y/n, you’re soaked.”

You whine as his fingers make contact with where you need him most.

“Is this all for me, Y/n? Tell me.”

“You. Only you.”

“Jesus, Y/n.”

If someone had asked hours ago you what you thought your professor would be like in bed, this was the last thing you would’ve said. Not that anyone would ask… but still. He’s nerdy and adorable, and while his looks are literally to die for, he doesn’t scream ‘I’m gonna fuck your brains out’.

His fingers pick up their pace on your clit as you find yourself trying to undo his belt. You’re desperate to see him as bare as you are. He stops to help you get his pants down, and when you see him in his full glory you feel a little faint.

“You’re so big.”

He lets a little whine slip through, “Yeah? Biggest you’ve had?”

You blush a little at his tone. As much as you’re trying to fake it, you don’t have as much experience in this field as one might expect for a girl your age.

“I’ve only been with one other person, so yeah.”

Your candor is decidedly not sexy, and you really have no clue why you would say that right now. The man above you does not seem deterred though, if anything it spurs him on.

“Fuck, Y/n. Didn’t know you were so innocent.”

You blush again, but reach to grab him, trying to prove how good you can be. He’s heavy in your hand, and part of you worries how he’ll fit. You know you’re programmed to accommodate, but the thought is daunting.

He must sense your concern when he says, “Don’t worry, love. Gonna stretch you out for me.”

With that, his fingers resume their previous task, and he slowly moves down to trace your entrance with his middle finger. The sensation has you spinning, and let breathless moans leave your body he slowly starts to open you up. His fingers are long and precise in their movements. Every time he thrusts into you, they graze a spot that sends sparks of pleasure straight to your core.

“You’re doing so good for me, Y/n. So, so good for me.”

You can barely breathe, and your climax comes closer with every passing second. When his thumb moves to press over your clit and his other hand presses firmly on your lower stomach, you’re done for.

“Good girl, Y/n. Coming so pretty on my hand.”

Your orgasm is stupefying, and all you can think or say is Spencer’s name. You grab at him, desperate to find something to ground you, and you hear him moan as your nails dig into his back. He doesn’t stop for a moment, continuing to press into you and riding you through your high.

Once you come down, though you can still feel your legs shaking, you want more. You want all of him. You take him in your hand again, pumping up and down his shaft at a lazy pace.

“Spencer, I need you to fuck me.”

He laughs, his hand still on your core, “Ask nicely, Y/n. You come on my fingers and all of a sudden your manners disappear?“

You didn’t want to admit it, but he’s right.

“Please, Spencer. Please fuck me, I need it.”

“Good girl,” he takes your wrist and leads your hand to your mouth. “Spit.”

You aren’t exactly sure what he’s doing. You think he might be teasing you more, letting you work him over until you beg, but he answers all your questions quickly.

He guide your hand back to grab him, helping you jerk him off before he grabs himself and lines up with your entrance.

In his first Dr. Reid like moment in the last hour he stops and asks, “Fuck do you have a condom? I obviously didn’t think we’d do this, so I don’t have anything on me.”

You’re panting with anticipation at this point, but still manage to get out, “I’m on the pill and I’m clean. I trust you.”

His eyes go soft for a moment, before he continues his previous mission. He lines up again with you, before teasing your slit with the head of his cock. If you didn’t want him so bad, you could’ve come like this, but you are desperate. You push your hips up, hoping he gets the point, and he does.

“I could play with you all day if you’d let me, Y/n.”

You want to protest, and tell him to get on with it, but you don’t have to. You feel his tip

slowly pushing into you as he lets out a groan.

“You’re so fucking tight.”

He’s slow and careful, and you can’t remember sex ever feeling this good. You know he isn’t all the way in, but you already feel so full. When he does reach the hilt, you let out a low moan at the feeling. He’s completely inside of you, filling you in a way that is unbelievably good. He stays still for a moment before slowly pulling back and thrusting into you.

You can tell he’s being gentle, but hard enough and fast enough to have your legs start shaking more heavily again. You already feel a pit in your stomach, and you know you’re going to come, for a second time, embarrassingly fast.

“Fuck yes. So good for me, Y/n.”

The way your name sounds in his mouth drives you crazy. The only thing you can think about is how badly you want this moment to go on forever. Everything about him is perfect. Even now, while fucking your brains out (literally, you could make yourself say a word even if you wanted to), he’s cupping your head in his hand and telling you how beautiful you are.

Now that you’re more accustomed to the size of him, he takes your thigh, pushing it up to your chest, and starts too fuck into you faster and harder. His pelvis rubs over your clit with every thrust, driving you crazy. Your hands are in his hair and down his back, grabbing and clawing at him.

“You love taking this cock, huh baby? Can’t even talk, huh?”

His words go straight to your core, but you know what you need to come again. You guide his hand up near your sternum and manage to cry out a few words.

“Please, need it. Need you.”

He takes your request to heart and moves his hand to your neck, squeezing the sides. You feel yourself get light headed in the most incredible way. Tears are forming in your eyes. The feeling is so intense.

“So perfect for me. Such a smart girl and you’re just gonna let me fuck you dumb?”

You’re close, and you can feel the pit in your stomach start to spread and take over. Spencer’s hand on your throat tightens slightly, and it only take a few more thrusts before you’re coming on him.

“Coming. Fuck, Spence you’re making me come.”

“That’s right. Come all over me. Show me how good I make you feel.”

Your vision is going white at the edges and you feel like your whole body is shaking.

“Fuck, gonna come just watching you. Gotta pull out, baby.”

You grab him before he can, “No! Want it inside me.”

He groans above you and you feel his hips stutter.

“Fucking Jesus. Want me to fill you? Make this you mine?”

You nod, the tears now falling down the sides of your face.

“Gonna come, baby.”

You can feel when he does. His dick is pulsing in you, filling you completely, just like he said he would.

When he comes down, he pushes his lips to yours, kissing you with an intensity you’ve never felt before. For a while, he just lays there, kissing you.

“Gonna pull out now. Gotta clean you up.”

You whine, but nod regardless. You feel empty at the loss of him, but you don’t have much time to think about it before you feel a warm towel wipe around your centre.

“You gotta go pee, Y/n. Don’t want to develop a UTI.”

Five minutes ago this man was coming inside of you, and now he’s back to being the man who came to your house in the rain with tea. You do know he’s right though, so you pull yourself out of your bed on shaking legs and make your way to your bathroom.

When you come back in, you find Spencer with his pants back on. Your heart breaks a little.

In a small voice you ask, “Are you leaving?”

He looks up at you then, “Do you want me to stay?”

You don’t know why you wouldn’t.

“If you don’t want to you don’t have to.”

You can feel tears welling up again, but these are different from before; he notices immediately.

“Baby, baby don’t worry. I don’t want to go, I just didn’t want to over step.”

You laugh a little at that, wiping your eyes, “I think we’ve gotten over all the steps, Spencer. I, I want - Just please stay.”

He nods and moves to take off his pants before sliding into place next to you. His arm wraps around your waist and you feel a tingle in the spots where he touches you.

“I don’t want to have this be a one time thing,” you blurt out.

You feel him hold you a little tighter then.

“I was never planning that, Y/n. Now, sleep. We can talk about how much I’ve come to adore you tomorrow.”

END!! i hope you all love it!

tag list! (leave me comment if you want to join and i’ll add you): @sabage101

[pastorpresent]

When the dust settled of what Wade dubbed their 'super awesome Madonna world saving sacrifice', (don't fucking ask, god knows Logan doesn't) the TVA had offered to hire their services to round up variants that incorrectly stumbled into their universe. With a fucking paycheck.

Logan had been trying (and failing) to find work for a few weeks by that point. It was sort of difficult when he had no tangible work history in this universe, with no references that could actually be called. Or a social security number. Or a bank account. Or any form of ID, really.

Wade had already quickly agreed on both their behalfs, and Logan got the feeling he just needed a valid excuse to put the suit on now and again between his monotonous shifts at the dealership.

The only catch was that they had to undergo a physical and mental health assessment before hand.

He'd passes the physical with flying colours. The mental one... not so much. They'd still 'hired' him, but when he was given a folder with information regarding each fucking problem he had mentally, they'd heavy implied he needed to work on it to keep his job.

His plan had been to chuck it in the trash, or burn the fucker, but it'd slipped his mind to do either by the time they'd gotten home because Wade started trying to cook pasta for dinner and almost set the entire place on fire, somehow.

He left it on the side and Wade, being the nosy fucker he was, had of course read it.

There was a lot of shit Logan expected to find in there - depression, ptsd, alcoholism... stuff he didn't exactly need some fancy fucking doctor to tell him he had. A six year old could probably glance his way and identify that he needed antidepressants.

The one that he'd thought was odd, and the one Wade seemed to latch onto, was 'touch deprivation'.

The thing was, Wade was a shithead. He practically made it his goal whenever he walked into a room to be the most annoying person in that room. Usually successfully.

But he was also... good. He was a good person, despite what people might say to him. He wanted to help him, which was... sweet, he supposed.

A lot of the stuff in there was a bit tricky to 'fix', probably requiring some sort of medication or therapy (Logan point blank refused both) but a couple of things, Wade seemed hellbent on helping him with.

There was never any liquor in their apartment, for starters. Whenever Logan would buy any, it would go mysteriously missing the following day. Al didn't even know it had been there, and Wade was a shit liar with his innocent little shrug when Logan would ask.

Ar first it pissed him off but, well, Wade was just trying to help, and he was - helping, that is. Logan was actually sober more than he was drunk these days - which hasn't happened in at least a decade.

The 'touch deprivation' was another Wade seemed hell bent on helping with.

The merc was already tactile with his friends. Logan had seen him drape an arm over their shoulder, side hug them as they walked somewhere, hug them goodbye.

It seemed he dialled it up to a thousand with him, though.

If they both happened to be in the kitchen, Wade was brushing up against him every few seconds, murmuring apologies as he all but pressed against him under the guise of trying to move somewhere or reach something.

When they were out, Wade would let their arms and hands brush up against each other. If Logan was pushing the cart in the store, Wade would 'accidently' rest his hand over his on the handle bar.

It was little stuff, things that somebody on the outside of them would probably not even notice, until one night on the couch.

They'd been running around for the TVA all day, and Logan was irritable and exhausted. He felt about ready to claw his own skin off out of general frustration, built up from a day of shitty, all over the place missions.

They'd both showered and were sat watching gossip girl, but he just couldn't settle. He was switching position every few seconds, growling under his breath every time his discomfort returned, and he must've been annoying the fuck out of Wade, he thought.

After maybe an hour - and Logan wasn't going to cry, but he damn sure felt like it, Wade sighed next to him.

Logan immediately found himself growing defensive, ready to argue that it wasn't his fucking fault his skin felt all tingly and wrong, and that the couch was too soft, or that there was a dumb ache in his chest that he didn't understand.

Wade didn't start arguing though. Instead, he lifted an arm in invitation.

Logan stared at him like he'd lost his fucking mind. How many hits to the head had he taken today? Could his regenerative abilities repair concussion or should Logan be taking him to a fucking hospital?

"Come on, peanut. Let me help," Wade said, which only confused Logan more. He didn't even know what was wrong- so how did Wade reckon he could fix it?

"I'm fine," he gritted out with a glare, trying to keep still to prove his point but fuck, his skin felt painful and tight.

"Alright," Wade held his hands up in surrender before letting them drop, turning back to the TV.

Logan watched him for a few seconds, then scoffed loudly, moving to lay a bit more on the arm rest.

It felt like it was digging into his ribs. He scratched his arm, barely resisting the urge to unsheathe his claws. He adjusted to lie back into the cushions. He sunk in too much, and the soft cushions felt like sandpaper against his on-fire skin.

Something dangerously close to a whimper escaped his lips, and he had to blink back a dampness building in his vision. Fuck, what the hell was wrong with him?

"Lo," he thought Wade had went back to focusing on the show, but apparently he'd been wrong, because the merc was staring at him with soft, concerned eyes, and Logan wanted to scream.

"What?" Logan snipped, but it was missing any of the intended edge.

"Let me try and help. No one else is here, it's just us - and if you don't like it, you can just sit back up," Wade lifted an arm again, an invitation for Logan to curl up against him and... it pissed him off how nice that sounded.

He hesitated for a few moments longer. Too long, really, and he expected Wade to rescind the offer entirely out of impatience.

He didn't. He just adjusted himself to be more sprawled back against the couch cushions, parting his legs a little and keeping his arm raised.

Logan made a defeated noise in the back of his throat, crawling closer. He hovered awkwardly between Wade's legs, unsure how to proceed, and Wade just gently pushed on his shoulders to get him to lie down, his head and upper torso covering Wade's chest and lower body.

He worried he'd be too heavy for Wade, but the younger man didn't seem bothered whatsoever. Perks of him being built pretty indestructible, probably.

"Good boy," he praised quietly, running his hand through Logan's hair. Essentially petting him, really, and Logan couldn't explain it but it's like everything in his head and everything with his body quietened down. He could breathe again, and he found himself going boneless against the younger man.

He wrapped his arms around Wade's torso, nuzzling into his stomach with a content sound, his eyes slipping shut as Wade continued to play with his hair, stroke over his back, brush fingers over his neck, calming the burn of his skin wherever they went.

It became a regular occurrence after that. Every night when they settled down to watch TV, Wade would wordlessly lift an arm, and Logan would wordlessly crawl over to lie against him. Sometimes they reversed it, because Logan discovered that having Wade lying atop of him felt incredibly grounding. Usually though, he'd be the one pressed up against the merc, tangled around him like some sort of extra clingy and extra heavy octopus. Wade would always 'pet' him, mumbling occasional praise as he ran gentle fingers over his body, scratching his scalp or dragging blunt nails over his back and arms.

Logan didn't realise how desperately he needed the touch until it was gone.

They'd been arguing all day. It was all stupid shit, really - moreso driven by the fact they hadn't had a mission in a while. Wade grew antsy if he'd been out of commission too long, and if he had to work so many back to back shifts at the dealership. And Logan grew irritable being stuck in the tiny apartment with no real purpose all day.

He'd went to the store and bought himself a bottle of whiskey to occupy his mind, to stop the thoughts of his old found family dead on the ground from a fight he could've aided in leaking into his brain.

Wade, as usual, had poured it down the drain. Something that, ordinarily, Logan would've been pissed about but let drop fairly quickly- because despite what others may think of him, his sort of almost sobriety did matter to him. It mattered to Wade too, which is why Logan never usually got all that mad at him for pouring perfectly good alcohol down the drain.

Maybe it was because of the irritation already brewing within them both, or maybe it was because Logan had really been relying on loosing himself in that bottle, but the argument quickly spiralled out of hand.

"You can't just pour out my shit, Wade!" Logan yelled, gesturing to the now empty bottle.

"Yeah, I'm being totally unreasonable. Next time I'll let you drink yourself into a stupor, pinky fucking promise!" Wade yelled back.

"You had no fucking right!"

"Do you think I want to, huh?! You think I just love having to control your alcohol intake like your some sixteen year old girl who discovered fucking smirnoff for the first time?!"

"Then fucking don't! I don't need you to do anything for me! I managed by myself for two hundred fucking years, I don't fucking need you, and I certainly don't fucking want you!" Logan shouted, probably loud enough that they'd get complaints from the neighbours later.

The ensuing silence felt even louder.

He regretted it immediately. He didn't mean it, and he knew that as soon as he'd said it. Because yeah, he might be able to survive by himself- but that's all it ever was. Fucking survival.

Wade showed him how to live.

He was still too angry to take any of it back, though. To admit he'd crossed a line.

"Fine. Do whatever the fuck you want, Logan," and Wade left, their bedroom door slamming echoing throughout the whole apartment.

They avoided each other for days. Even when they were together, there was silence. Wade didn't crack any of his usual jokes. They ate in silence. They stopped waking up tangled up in one another, and Wade no longer opened an arm in invitation when they were sharing the couch alone. No hand over hand on the cart, or arms brushing in the street, none of it.

Logan didn't give a shit, obviously. He bought ridiculous amounts of alcohol and drank until he passed out on their kitchen floor, waking up a few hours later cover in his own vomit and Mary Puppins peering at him curiously. Even the fucking dog was judging him.

It was the week mark, and Logan actually hadn't had a drink that day. Only because he had ran dry on money to buy any, and he'd considered stealing some but thought it wouldn't be worth losing his job with the TVA. He did maybe try drinking some of Al's nail polish remover, but he was halfway into the bottle when he realised she used the type that was fucking alcohol free.

Not his proudest moment.

His body already felt weary from the slight pulls of withdrawal when he sat on his end of the couch, purposefully not glancing Wade's way. It was very much like how he'd felt when he stopped drinking so much in this universe. The tiredness that ate down to his bones, the cravings niggling his brain constantly.

He already didn't feel great - but then the itching started, and it got intense fast.

His efforts to keep still were futile. It was so much worse than the first time around, and worse still because he knew what was missing, and it was his own fault he didn't have it anymore.

What the fuck was he supposed to say? 'Hey I know I said I didn't need you and to stop treating me like a child, but if you don't cuddle me right now I might fucking explode'.

No. He couldn't do that.

Everything hurt. He couldn't draw a breath in properly, and even the feeling of his clothes against his skin felt fucking wrong. Like it was too... light.

The final straw was when one of those tears welling in his eyes actually escaped, rolling down his cheek. He wiped at it harshly, and got up without another word, heading straight for their bedroom.

He couldn't let Wade see him like this. He was fucking pathetic.

He stripped down to his boxers, needing the stupid fabric to stop touching him, and got onto their bed. The covers felt scratchy, and he kicked them away with a growl. In the process of his aggressive attempts to find a comfortable position, he got a whiff of a familiar scent.

Wades. Wade's pillow smelt exactly like him.

It was the first time since the itching feeling started that he felt some sembelence of calm. His skin still burnt, but he could sort of zone it out for a moment.

He tried to turn away. To ignore it, because it was fucking stupid, but he didn't last long before he was grabbing the pillow and pulling it towards him, pressing his face into it and inhaling deeply.

He didn't remember when he started crying, but the pillow was soon wet with tears. He was so fucking stupid. Utterly fucking ridiculous - a grown ass man crying into a pillow because, what? He didn't have someone playing with his fucking hair?

He was so, so beyond furious at himself. At how ridiculous he was, and at how massively he'd managed to mess everything up.

Wade was good. He was bad. He should've known from the get go that he'd fuck it all up.

"Jesus, Logan," the soft gasp startled him from his thoughts abruptly, and he panicked. He sat up, shoving the pillow aside despite the fact Wade had seen exactly what he was doing.

Maybe he'd get lucky and one of those stupid ring portals would appear beneath him and send him elsewhere. Anywhere, really- he didn't care, it would be better than this.

"What?"

The biting tone wasn't all that effective when he had to scrub at his eyes to get rid of the tears.

It didn't even work anyway. They wouldn't fucking stop now that he'd let them start, and the fact Wade had caught him sitting there breathing in dredges of his scent while fucking crying - maybe part of it was just the utter humiliation of it all.

"Oh, Lo. It's alright," Wade murmured, and then he was shutting the door and crossing the room, climbing onto the bed.

He reached out, but seemed to hesitate, his arm dropping, "can I touch you?"

Logan only cried harder, his body practically vibrating, as if it was attempting to force him to move closer even unconsciously. He gave a jerky nod, "please."

Wade was on him in an instant, pulling him in so tight that to anyone without super strength and regenerating abilities, it would probably hurt.

Logan didn't care. He needed more. The fire was tamed, but it was still there, the embers tickling his body and threatening to overtake him again.

His hands tugged at the hem of Wade's shirt, seeking permission. He needed the stupid itchy fabric gone. The press of it was too soft and gentle. He needed skin. Needed something solid. Needed Wade, now.

"Shirt off?" Wade clarified, and Logan nodded where his head was tucked into the crook of his neck.

He hadn't accounted for the fact that they'd have to break their embrace to do it.

Wade tried to pull back, but Logan gasped, digging his nails in and keeping himself plastered to Wade's front.

"I'm not going anywhere, peanut. I'm just taking my clothes off, alright? I'm not leaving you, I swear," Wade put both hands on the side of his face, lifting it so he could look into his eyes as he spoke, the pad of his thumb wiping away his tears.

Logan reluctantly let go, shivering violently when everything hit him again.

Wade made quick work of stripping off his shirt and sweatpants, leaving him in his briefs. He lay down, and opened his arm.

Logan could've started crying again in relief. He all but dove at the younger man, burying his face away in his chest, wrapping his arms tight around him. Wade held him tightly, pulling him in enough so their bodies were pressed together solidly.

He lifted a hand and started stroking his hair, shushing him softly and rocking their bodies a little.

"I'm sorry. 'M so sorry, I didn't mean any of it," and ordinarily he might very been reluctant to say it, never being all that good at swallowing down his perceived pride, but it felt too important not to say.

Because despite everything, Wade had came in here to check on him. He could've just continued to watch TV. He could've so easily made fun of him for what he'd walked into, mocking how fucking stupid he was, and walked straight back out. He could've and should've done all of that, but he didn't. Because he was Wade, and he was good, and Logan would never fully understand what positivity he put out into the world to earn him.

"I know, me neither. Just calm down, Lo. It's all good now, I've got you," Wade assured, squeezing tighter, and Logan made a small satisfied sound, nosing at Wade's chest and then his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of his shampoo and body wash.

The itching had ceased, but he still felt like he needed more, like it wasn't enough until he sliced Wade open and crawled inside of him, curled up contently next to his beating heart, burrowed beneathe his ribs.

He didn't verbalise it, but Wade seemed to understand, as usual.

"On your back, baby," he directed, and Logan did so without complaint.

Wade moved with him, lying on top of him completely, tangling their legs together, a solid weight pressing him into the mattress, and ironically enough he finally felt like he could breathe again.

"Good boy. You're so good, peanut," Wade hummed, running fingers over his shoulders. Logan disagreed, but he was too out of it to really argue. He felt like he was floating on a cloud, hovering out of his body.

He didn't realise he was biting until Wade let out a soft sound above him, and the metallic taste filled his mouth.

"Fuck, sorry I... I didn't realise," he tried to move away, eyes wide, but Wade shushed him again, his expression something fond.

"Does it help?" Wade asked simply, and Logan swallowed. It did. It was... it was like Wade felt closer to him, somehow.

"Mhm, but don't wanna hurt you," he felt almost drunk, his words slurring a little as he watched the small wound on Wade's shoulder close up.

"I'll heal, angel. Have at it," Wade tilted his head in invitation, and Logan nosed at his neck for a moment, still not entirely sure, before sticking out the tip of his tongue and licking experimentally. He moaned softly at the taste of Wade on his taste buds, pressing his nose against his adams apple simultaneously to breathe him in. He let his teeth sink in lightly, nibbling at the sensitive area.

Wade groaned atop of him, and Logan went to pull away, but the merc held him there by the back of his head, "keep going. Please, Lo," and he sounded breathless and needy, and it made Logan growl with animalistic possessiveness, biting down a bit harder, blood running to the surface, which he quickly lapped up.

He couldn't really tell who connected lips first, he was fairly certain it was him, but it didn't really matter ultimately. They were high off one another, Wade grinding down while Logan rutted up, both of them rock solid against each other.

Logan bit at his lip, drawing blood before licking it away filthily, dragging his nails all over every surface of Wade he could reach. He needed him. He needed him so fucking badly. He wanted to worship every square inch of him then crawl beneathe his skin and make a home there.

He reached between them, wrapping a hand around Wade's length, but the merc caught his wrist, using the other hand to grip Logan's jaw and direct their eyes to meet.

"Logan," he knew vaguely that Wade wanted him to listen, but he was too busy whining beneathe him, pushing his hips up trying to chase the friction that every cell in his body was fucking screaming for. He didn't want to stop, and he didn't get why Wade was making him.

"Logan. Hey, eyes on me, peanut," Wade ordered firmly, and Logan finally reluctantly ceased his movements, blinking Wade's face into his focus.

"How are you feeling?"

And Logan huffed, glaring a little, because did Wade really stop what they were doing just to ask him that? Seriously?

"I'm fine," he replied shortly, trying to go for Wade's mouth again, but found himself held down by a hand against his bare chest.

"I'm going to need a bit more than that before we go any further, peanut. Especially with how upset you were just twenty minutes ago," Wade was stroking a hand through his hair again, and the calmness that filled his body from the touch was enough to get him to settle down just a little, sinking into the bed and giving up his valiant mission of jerking off against Wade's solid form.

"I just need to know you're okay, and I need to know you're doing this because you want it, not just because you feel like you need it."

"I want it. I want it a lot," he said after a few seconds, looking up at Wade. It was the most vulnerable he'd felt in forever, and all he could do was hope that Wade took that and handled it carefully.

Wade smiled, kissing Logan firmly. Logan gasped into it, letting his mouth open wider, inviting Wade in to explore as he pleased.

Wade pulled away suddenly, and Logan very almost ripped his head off of his shoulders in order to keep him close.

"Easy, boy. I'm just trying to sort you out," Wade explained with fingers teasing the waistband of his boxers.

It was ridiculous, but he wasn't certain he could handle the younger man's body weight leaving him. That press, being able to feel every inch of Wade against him, it was the only thing keeping him tethered in reality. He couldn't handle his skin setting alight again. Especially not when he had went a whole week without Wade's touch.

"Baby," and something about Wade calling him that made him want to crumble. Want to get onto his knees and suck him off and worship him like he deserved, because he must be a God- that's the only explanation as to how he can breathe a single word and make Logan unravel. Because he'd never been that. He'd never been anyone's 'baby', because no one ever bothered to be tender with him before. He was The Wolverine. He was supposed to be rough, and rugged, and maybe 'handsome', but never 'pretty'. Never 'baby'.

And yet everytime it rolled off of Wade's tongue it was so genuine, so sweet and caring, and it was almost like a permission slip for Logan to let the gruff exterior drop just for a minute, and be somebody's 'baby'. Be Wade's 'baby'.

"You don't want me to leave, peanut? You want me to stay on top of you?" Wade asked, because he was genuinely bothered by the idea of Logan not being one million percent happy with this experience.

Logan found his mouth and kissed him again. This one was gentle. So, so gentle. No blood or biting or back and forth - just a barely there press of lips. A thank you, sealed away in a kiss.

"Please," he answered quietly, speaking it into Wade's parted mouth, "I just... I need to know you're here, I think. I need to..." he trailed off, unsure how to finish.

How could he verbalise that he needed to feel him so completely, that he needed Wade everywhere all over him, all at once? How could he say that without scaring him away entirely?

Maybe that would be for the best, in all honesty. He couldn't be so damn reliant - not when Wade had a fucking life to live. A future to build. Why should he put that on hold just because Logan crash landed into his reality?

He should be going on dates with Vanessa right now, trying to fix things. Or hanging out with his actual friends. He should be doing a lot of things- but trying to fix something in Logan that had been irreparably smashed to pieces years ago was not one of them.

"I need- we need to stop," he spoke, even as every cell in his body was screaming no, fuck no.

Wade frowned, the hand that had been tracing over his arms pausing.

"What?"

"I can't. I can't do it. I can't."

He couldn't drag Wade down into the fucking abyss. He couldn't force him to live out his eternity like this.

"Okay, that's okay peanut. You want me to get off of you?" Wade offered, and Logan nodded.

It killed him, but he nodded.

Wade lifted up, manoeuvring onto the edge of the bed.

Logan wanted to throw up, that cold and empty feeling returning to his gut, spreading through all of his limbs like poison. 'This is good, Wade is good, you are bad' was like a mantra in his head, growing louder and louder until all Logan could hear was the rapid thumping of his own heart and those words, screamed, being etched across his organs like a warning.

Maybe the repeated frying of his brain was finally catching up to him.

"Logan, what's wrong?"

Logan wanted to tear his own fucking skin off.

"Did- was it too much? Did I go too far? I'm sorry, I just thought it's what you wanted," Wade was apologising, he was fucking apologising, and Logan was barely holding it the fuck together, his chest tightening.

"No. No, it's... I need to be alone," he choked on the last word, as if his body was physically fighting him from saying it.

Wade was looking at him with a small frown, reaching out for his hand resting on the mattress which Logan quickly moved away.

He'd never forget the look of hurt etched onto the others face. He might very well of tried to hide it, but he caught the flash of upset that filled Wade's features so intensely for just a moment.

"Of course. Yeah, sorry. I'll just," Wade gestured vaguely to the bedroom door before all but racing out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Logan sighed shakily, curling up on himself and trying in vain to stop the tears coming.

Part 2 up now