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factsilike · 4 hours ago

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I'm sorry, but this is.. such an incorrect post on Lan Qiren's character I don't even know where to begin.

Lan Wangji did not defend a "demonic cultivator" who caused deaths in their society (WWX never even used demonic cultivation, he used gui dao). He defended a man who's been relentlessly persecuted and slandered for protecting the innocent, the innocents those bloodthirsty and revenge obsessed cultivation world wanted to kill, for daring to be better and more powerful than them. WWX was not in the wrong for defending himself against those genocidal maniacs, and Lan Wangji knew that, hence why he protected him. And why he was the only one to do so. And he did not deserve to be whipped for that.

And Lan Qiren was there on the night of that Pledge. He also was one of the people leading a siege against the innocent Wen Remnants in the Burial Mounds, and the people who slaughtered them. And the book clearly paints him as the one who is completely in the wrong for that.

As for the rules.... your words implying that 'old Asian people' are only ever abusive in their strictness? Playing into stereotypes to defend abusive behaviour? Really? "Oh Asian people are just like that, guess that makes it okay that all these adults feel comfortable whipping children! It's just the setting you see, corporal punishment was the norm then!"

To say that Lan Wangji is exactly like his father and hence these rules are there to enforce his behaviour....what even? We are never told in the novel what crime exactly Madame Lan was imprisoned for, but it is very much implied that she should not have had to spend the rest of her days locked up for it.

To think that Lan Wangji would enforce such a fate upon WWX, have you even read the novel? Lan Wangji lost control and kissed WWX once yes, but he also deeply regrets it and never touches WWX against his will again. He beats himself up for it, and moves on. In fact, he flat out knocked himself out when he was drunk so that he wouldn't do anything untoward towards WWX, even WWX was the one who kissed him. You think that is the behaviour of a man who "needs" rules to keep him in check? Implying that all Lans are what, savage beasts who will go wild on others without rules? Rules like "do not keep pets" help them how, exactly?

Not only do you have a deep misconception of Lan Qiren's character, but also Lan Wangji's. And WWX's too, for that matter. Please read the book again.

As for the incense burner dream, I cannot emphasize this enough- it is a fantasy. A dream that never happened in real life. Partners in sexual relationships have fantasies about each other all the time, it is normal. And the dream is not something that actually affected WWX in reality, because it is not something LWJ would ever actually do in reality. Also, LWJ wasn't even the one dreaming about that, WWX was the one who goaded him and gave him said fantasy fuel when they were messing around in the bushes. It was not something 15 year old Lan Wangji was fantasizing about at all, rather their adult selves (in a perfectly healthy and happy established relationship) were discovering their mutual con non-con kink through that dream.

Do you remember the classroom scene? The scene very famous for showing Lan Qiren's blatant favouritism and classism? Notice how Lan Qiren has his prized nephew show upto class to show him off to the other disciples. Notice how Lan Qiren praises Lan Wangji for giving a correct answer, and rebukes WWX for the same thing by saying he is already expected to know the answer. Notice how WWX sees through his petty BS pretty quickly and decides he doesn't need to deal with that. And Lan Qiren's very telling response. Because everyone knows that the marking of a good teacher is when they toss a book at a student's unconventional answer and throw them out of the classroom. What a brilliant man.

Also, Lan Qiren never gives WWX a chance, they just mutually avoid each other after Wangxian's marriage. Did you forget that Lan Qiren was the one who established the new rule "Do not go near Wei Ying" in the extras that forced the juniors to avoid him? Isn't that telling of how precarious WWX's situation would be if it weren't for LWJ? The difference in social power between them is scary.

Imagine yourself in Wei Wuxian's shoes. Imagine how you are all but an outcast in this hypocritical world, and there are no shortage of enemies who want you dead. Imagine you marry the love of your life, and move into his very hostile clan, a clan that has already shown that they are happy to turn you over as a scapegoat. Imagine your spouse's bitter relative can't accept your relationship to the point that he cements his hatred for you on a rock, that serves as the foundation for the clan's teachings, so they're all obligated to now avoid you.

"He allows them to have sex-" oh how very generous of him? As if Lan Wangji would have any hesitation moving out of his clan if his uncle tried to enforce his marital rights. This one seems kinda nonsensical and grasping at straws to defend him.

Sure, he may have led the clan in his brother's absence for many years. Does that make his many moral failings better? Also, first he's a great and amazing leader for the Lan Clan, but it comes to defending LWJ he's suddenly a weak hapless man who can't do anything but bow towards the whims of hypocritical old men who demand that he follow their hypocritical rules? I don't know why so many people refuse to hold these morally reprehensible characters accountable for their own actions and bend over backwards to defend them. "They simply had no choice! They just had to slaughter all these old people, women and children, you know!"

And we don't see him be nurturing or kind to his nephews in any way, at most he seems their strict teacher who expects them to be perfect at all times. If you remember, at the end of the novel right after the Guanyin Temple fiasco, he was very much planning to drag Lan Wangji back to his sect and force him into a seclusion to "fix" him. Wangxian, probably being aware of Lan Qiren's hostility (it was nothing new), wisely left him and the cultivation world behind to clean up their own messes, because they were done doing so. They'd been apart long enough.

Lan Qiren's role in the story, like some others, is that of a weak, unrighteous man who stepped aside and allowed genocide to happen because his beliefs were steeped in classism and hypocrisy, and he had no interest in changing them. He is not an old and exasperated man who yells at WWX because of his shenanigans, but because he pathetically takes his anger on his mother (a woman who has been dead for more than a decade) out on her child. It's sad that fandom misconceptions have caused such a drastic change in the perception of his character, like so many others. People refuse to accept antagonists as antagonists.

Okay here's my Lan Qiren apologist masterpost

"He had Lan Wangji whipped! He's an abuser!"

That was Lan Wangji's punishment for injuring 33 Lan elders while defending a demonic cultivator who caused innumerable deaths in the cultivation community. You need to remember the setting of this story: Madame Yu whipped Wei Ying half to death just because she went "you didn't do anything wrong, your general existence is just mildly annoying to me." Lan Qiren deciding Lan Wangji get one lash for every person he hurt is NOTHING in comparison to the punishment he would have gotten if anyone else was in charge and it was the only way to clear his name.

2. "The Lan sect rules he enforces are too strict."

First of all, Lan Qiren is an old Asian person. I feel like that would be enough to make my point, but I will continue regardless.

The Lans have so many rules because they have extreme self-regulation issues when it comes to their emotions. We've seen Lan Wangji's dad ruin his life by trying to atticwife his lover, but Lan Wangji wasn't any better. If you've read the incense burner extra you know he got his first crush at 15 and his brain immediately went to fantasizing about violently assaulting Wei Ying in the library. Their hundreds of rules are stifling because they're supposed to be. If the Lans don't try to contain themselves they will ruin their lives and the lives of people they care about.

Is "don't talk while you're eating" even that extreme of a household rule? Like every family has some variation of "don't do ____ at the dinner table" and the Lans having their own version is not that insane.

3. "He was against Lan Wangji loving Wei Wuxian."

I need you to spend like. 2 minutes putting yourself in Lan Qiren's shoes.

Imagine you are Lan Qiren. Imagine you find out your brother broke his family apart by forcing his wife to stay with him. Lan Qiren was just a man who was thrust into not only taking care of the Lan clan, one of the biggest cultivation sects you can think of, but also his two traumatized nephews. Imagine cleaning up the mess your brother left you while having to raise two children that aren't yours.

Then you see your nephew, who you have raised like your own son, helplessly pining after the infamous demonic cultivator who has rejected him and teased him. You watch him turn against and injure his own family members to protect a literal criminal.

Then he comes home holding the child of the man he loves and you let him keep that baby and raise him. Because you see yourself in him. You see someone who just lost a loved one who was not a good person but someone you loved regardless. How many times do you think he saw Lan Wangji raising Lan Yuan and remembered himself raising someone else's children because their father was no longer there?

And then after all that Lan Qiren had been through, he didn't even try to keep Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian apart once he found out the truth. When Wei Ying explained how he'd been set up, he was one of the first elders in the cultivation community to give him a chance to explain himself. And after that even if he was cold to Wei Ying, he didn't say shit about the two of them having nasty loud gay sex in gusu every night.

I don't care. Lan Qiren hate will always be forced to me, he did literally nothing wrong and if I was in his shoes I would not have been able to handle it

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maybefae · 3 days ago

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Week Ahead: 11/11-11/17/2024

Pile 1 - Pile 2 - Pile 3

Remember, this is a general reading and it may not resonate for everyone or completely. Tarot is a tool to help guide but you are responsible for your actions and life, you choose your path.

Tips!

Pile 1

Tarot: The Hanged Man (Sacrifice), The Star (The Veil), Eight of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, The Fool (Death), Three of Cups, The Hermit (The Cosmic Tree), Strength (The Orbs)

Oracle: The Pathless, The Priest

Hello, my loves. Has the past week been a little tiring? Overwhelming? This week probably won’t be as crazy but there is a feeling of numbness. Maybe just lost. It feels as if you are just floating through time and space at the moment because of uncertainty towards the future. You’ve been thrust into a whole new chapter without any preparation and without any knowledge of it happening. And now, it feels like you have to sacrifice the past in someway, or it was sacrificed for you. You were grabbed by the arms and yanked away from the past.

I believe that your only symbol of hope at the moment are your friends. The ones closest to you or at least a community. They are the only ones grounding you to reality.

If you need to stay to yourself, enter hermit mode, for a little but until there’s a little clarity, it’s okay to do so. Just don’t let yourself be a hermit forever because that will cause more isolation and a feeling of being lost than you already have.

You’re working very hard and I think you can only trust yourself with that at the moment. Maybe it’s for a distraction for a little bit, maybe it’s for future comfort. But you’re persevering. You’re being very strong despite the uncertainty. And maybe this is just what you have to do right now to navigate a lack of direction. Follow your instincts because they will never lead you astray. I think you’re doing the right thing at the moment, if you needed that comfort.

Take things slow, one step at a time. And divulge in something you love to do. Self-care in any form will be good.

Pile 2

Tarot: Page of Swords, Three of Pentacles, Ace of Swords, Ten of Cups, Six of Cups, Page of Wands, Four of Wands, Ace of Pentacles, Six of Swords, Eight of Pentacles

Oracle: The Champion, The Adventurer, The Spymaster

Before I pulled any cards, I heard, “It’s gonna be okay.” It was in a very warm and comforting female voice. It’s like a mother, in her purest form, comforting you.

There is a lot of messages happening at once but I was being very organized when getting the cards out. I heard “keep your cards close” and “ducks in a row.” There could be a level of secrecy with something you’re organizing. And I think you are organizing this project with others/friends.

Now I heard, “loudmouth.” You’re being vocal about something and it feels like you feel an obligation to lead something. And this could be revolving around taking care of others in a time of need. I’m getting the sense of building a strong foundation and community. A safe haven. This could be people with a like-mindedness to you. I’m getting a vision of Woodstock ‘69 where people were taking care of each other and there was a kitchen where people from outside brought food to help when things got a little dire at the festival. You could be the one at the beginning saying it’s gonna be okay.

Back to the project you’re organizing. You could be getting a bunch of friends together so you all can live under one roof, save money. I don’t know there’s a big focus on help and community and minimizing a struggle here. You’re working really hard at it and trying anything you can to make things work.

Pile 3

Tarot: Ace of Swords, Six of Wands, Two of Pentacles, Five of Wands, Knight of Pentacles, Queen of Cups, Ace of Pentacles, Seven of Pentacles, Four of Wands (reversed), King of Swords(back of deck)

Oracle: The Wise One, The Sentinel, The Assassin

I just want to say that your pile confused me the most. I also Wanna say that you are gonna be going at something really aggressively and quickly. The deck kept digging into my fingers, pinching me, and the cards would shoot out and hit something on my desk to the point of making a noise.

I had to pull for cards twice but the King of Swords remained here.

You could be going after something very passionately/aggressively. But I think it’s out of pure desperation and greed. Maybe even jealousy and pride.

Now, I don’t like doing general love readings but I do get a sense that this could be a person. And I don’t think it's out of pure intentions. This feels like someone you just wanna lay claim over so no one else can have them. There is very prideful and jealous energy. This endeavour will be fruitless. The person you want does not have the same feelings for you and may honestly see you as a “mean girl/person.” Or maybe you were just very certain they had feelings for you and you gained a lot of courage to say something only to be let down.

For those of you who actually like this person and have just been working the courage up to say something, I think it’s more of a teaching in courage. I think you will have success when it comes to your confidence because you had the courage to say something. This person probably won’t have the same feelings but they do recognize your courage and respect you for that. They won’t be mean about turning your advances down, they will be respectful and nice. But there won’t be anything that comes to fruition between the both of you.

Decks Used: White Numen Tarot: A Sacred Animal Tarot Deck by AlbaBG, Cosma Visions Oracle by James R. Eads, Ophida Rosa Tarot by Leila and Olive, The Citadel: A Fantasy Oracle by Fez Inkwright Dividers: @inklore

#pick a card #tarot #maybefae tarot #pac #pick a pile #tarot reading

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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 day ago

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I would *love* to see the genderbent version of the Baby Fever / "Impregnate me now!" post. Depending on the Monkey, it could be the Queen herself rather than the S/O asking for a baby

Ohhhhhhhhhh I agree on the queen part, yes indeed😁😁😁

(Lmk Wukong) You have been giving her baby fever for a long time, for years you had tended to no only the baby monkeys FFM but also to Mk, Mei and for some reason Redson. Your like another father to them, a scary one but well not as scary as pigsy but your Definitely much stricter then him as you push Mk a bit to do better things Mostly for her own good. One day she and Mk lost you at that Mall, and the found you comforting a crying girl who got lost from her mother. She cried and hid her face in your chest, and you wrapped you jacket around her she was immediately comforted as she called you baba feeling safe with you while you spoke with mall security. Yup that was the final straw..........

(Wukong) Mk their's something I need to tell My husband

Back At FFM

(Wukong) IMPREGNATE ME AT ONCE!!!!!!

(Male Y/n)HUUUUHHHH?!?!?!?!?😳😳😳🥵🥵🥵

(NR Wukong) I doubt she would get baby fever on the fly, but you do things that may build up to it. Like it's one thing for you to take Care of Li as you treat her like a daughter and treating Her boyfriend Stu like a son. What stranger is that you do the same for Their friends as well, even spoiled rich girl Ao bing wasn't safe from your fathering. Wukong finally asked what has gotten into you lately, that's when you told her that you wanted a baby cub. You told her, when a lost boy had mistaken you as his father and even when you found his real father, he still wouldn't stop calling you baba and you felt strange ever since😣. Wukong jaw dropped her husband got baby fever and he doesn't even know, well then...........

(Wukong) F*CK ME!!!!!!🤤🥵

(Male y/n)...........................Now I normally would but I feel like it's different this time😳😦

(HIB Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh boi you make her ovaries explode every second of every day. I mean, they did that when she first met you, and you kept doing that now. You take care of silly boy the most making sure he stays out of trouble, and make sure to groom Luier and take care of her hair. When Wukong saw that she was down for the count, then you delt the final blow when you were called baba by both the kids and some other children in the village who saw you as a father figure. Wukong couldn't take it anymore

(Wukong) cubs, cubs, Cubs CUBS!!!!! I WANT MORE CUBS🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

(Male y/n) WUKONG PLEASE WE'RE IN PUBLIC!!!!!😣😳

(MKR Wukong) She would never know she had baby fever until its to late for her, like it's was one thing for fruity to address you as baba and you don't have an opinion on it. Then she sees it everywhere you guys go together, whether it be a small boy who needs his ball back from a tree, or a little girl who sad that her plushie ripped and you sat there and sew it back to together. Then what shocked Wukong was how you got lots of rebellious teenagers to open up and vent alot easier then the monk and even their own parents did. Wukong was admittedly impressed with your quirks, but the blow was a mother struggling with her baby and you took the baby boy from her and he immediately stopped crying as you spoke sofly to him.

(Wukong) I.....I think I wanna baby😳😳😳

(Male Y/n) Yeah, I'll do that in a minute hun🙄😒😑

(Netflix Wukong) Now I see her baby fever being caused by her lack their of a family growing up😥 She was all alone for most of her youth until you made it better. Well then she met dragon king, and Lin and finally you, the village weirdo although you were completely unorthodox you were kind, patient and supportive. You never judged her and for that she fell in love with you, but lately she's been feeling a bit hollow like something is missing until she saw what it was. You were playing with the village children, from making up games, and drawing and making snacks for them. Wukong eyes Widened at the care you give to them, and so it clicked she knew what was missing.

(Wukong) Y/n...I want a baby🥺

(Male y/n) ABOUT TIME I wasn't doing all the fatherly stuff for NO reason😑😠

(BMW Wukong) You were always quite rough around the edges and that's what she like about you, but what she didn't know what about your baby fever. It was a bit before she met you and you were hired to watch over a celestials child for a few days, and you turned out to be more of a father then the girls really that which broke your heart then you met your wife. You never brought it up to her in fear of you would come off as pressuring her, but your wife was smarter and more aware then you thought.

(Wukong) Ohhhhhhhhhh Y/n, how do you feel about cubs

(Male Y/n) I would like that, but I hope you know their might be more than one at the first try😐😐😐

(Wukong)..........what do you mean by that😳😳😳😳😳

(Destined one) Ok, so you were acting strange lately. She's been noticing how you like to lay on her stomach at all times while slightly whimpering. She felt your hollow feelings and mild depression and it's been going on for a while. When the destined one asked what was wrong, you just told her that something was missing. That when you and your wife had separate experiences, she had saved a young child from another demon who wanted to eat her, and the little clung on to her for safety while in the village you had tended to a crying little girl who scraped her knees and you put a Bandage on it making her smile and you both figured out what was missing.

(Destined one) IMPREGNATE ME AT ONCE!!!😫😫😫

(Male Y/n) I WANNA A BABY MONKEY CUB!!!!!!🤩🤩🤩

(Both) WAIT REALLY?!?!?!?😳😳😳

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG

#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n #black myth wukong #genderbend au #the destined one x reader #fatherhood

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jasvtsc · 3 days ago

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young!jensen x reader. ex-bf!jensen x reader.

discreet glances.

small smiles.

mouthing things you couldn’t say aloud.

secret touches under the table.

your pinky finger rubbing his as he had his hand on your knee.

all of that? it turned into complete ignorance.

you were confused about what caused your breakup with jensen. you both were fine. everything was fine. up until one night, it wasn’t anymore. you came back home, where he was already waiting for you, his head hung low as he kept his hands clasped tightly together. you could see a small tremble in them as if he was holding back his sadness. or anger. you couldn’t tell.

you dropped your bag and tilted your head to the side, slowly approaching him. you were quiet. he was quiet. the whole apartment was quiet except for the clock, slowly ticking in the background, and some white noise coming from the kitchen. you felt your heart slowly coming up your throat as he finally lifted his glossy green eyes to look at you. once so full of life and love, now replaced with sadness and heartbreak.

exactly 38 minutes and 16 seconds later, you and jensen broke up. he said it was distance and work. you both were young, freshly rising stars. you had your projects — most of them abroad, and he had his stuff here. it wouldn’t have worked, that’s what he said. dnd you just agreed. 'cause what else was there? if he didn’t want to fight for the two of you, why should you? two people make a relationship. not one.

so, once cheerful looks turned to avoidance of eye contact whenever your eyes met.

once quiet chuckles turned to sternness and ignoring each other.

once intimate touches turned into keeping distance as if one of you had some kind of disease.

you tried to move on. you tried. after spending countless hours crying yourself to sleep and wondering what you did wrong, you finally stepped out into the world again. slowly, you were regaining your spirit, that gleam in your eyes you lost due to the heartbreak. but most importantly, you finally let go of your past. of him.

maybe one day your paths will cross again.

jensen also tried to get back on track. but the looming feeling of guilt and realisation that he had lost the best things in his entire life hung heavy on his shoulders. he knew he made a mistake. he should’ve never chosen his career over you. you were always supporting him, you were there for him and he went and dumped it cause what? a young heartthrob like him would lose fans if others found out he was in a relationship. he knew he should’ve never listened to his manager. but now? it was too late. you were gone.

now, whenever he saw you, his eyes were full of longing.

his heart was crying for you.

he knew that he had to talk to you again. no matter if you hated him. he had to see you.

you were in your assigned place at some awards show. and you weren’t sure if it was just your luck or he did that on purpose, but jensen was sitting next to you. at first, you were thinking about changing your seat, but then again, there was no bad blood between the two of you. you could act like adults, right?

“baby, listen to me, i’m sorry— “ he started, turning his head to look at you with those green eyes that had so much depth to them. and again, you could see that love in them. fuck, you were crumbling. you weren’t over him as much as you thought that you were.

“hey, it’s okay. it’s fine. we’re fine.”

“we’re not, ‘kay? i regret my decision every single fucking minute of the day. i’m a fucking idiot. i should’ve never break your heart like that. i love you, baby. please, i— ” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “i’m sorry. about everything.”

you didn’t know what to do. your heart was yearning for him. you missed him, so much. but he broke your heart, there was no going back from that.

so, you sat in silence, just staring at each other as people around were clapping and cheering for the person on stage. but you didn’t care nor did jensen. his whole world was sitting right in front of him.

a/n: okay so yeah i wrote a little sth and tbh im not sure how i feel about it lmao i just hope that you enjoy it guys <3

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas

#jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles fic #oneshot #jensen ackles oneshot #young!jensen ackles #ex bf! jensen ackles

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archive-of-wax · 2 days ago

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I don't even know where to start with my love for this post, I've literally been rereading it over and over all day. This is by far the best interpretation of Trudy's parenting I've ever seen. It really captures the complex family dynamic we see onscreen with the twins, both with their mother and each other.

It's easy to focus on Trudy's evident abuse of Bo in the opening scene, but I think this is the first time I've seen anyone really analyse her interaction with Vincent. It's also one of the few times I've seen anyone speculate about his perspective or thoughts regarding his mother and her parenting, and I think you're spot on. Vincent wasn't showered with unconditional love while Bo got constant abuse. He was smothered with overbearing attentiveness that probably caused more issues than it fixed. Helicopter parenting certainly lines up with many traits fans have inferred from Vincent's portrayal, such as perfectionism, overdependence, and an anxious disposition.

I also felt that his perception of their mother wasn't as idolised as Bo's, and would go as far as to say that during his and Bo's kitchen convo I felt a hint of...exhasperation? Even weariness. At Trudy, at Bo's idolised view of her that he seemingly can't reject out loud, maybe even the purpose of their murderplot. I always imagined his feelings towards her to be something like 'I love you but please stop I'm begging you, why are you like this, why can't you be better for us', and I feel like part of that frustration came from knowing that none of the hovering and fussing was ever really for him as much as it was for her to feel better about herself, so any conversation about his feelings on the matter would have been pointless. If not immediately dismissed it would have just caused an argument, and this family has enough of those already, right? No need to rock the boat.

I have also never seen that newspaper clipping about Victor?! Could I ask where you found it? It completely throws loads of backstory theories out the window. Your version makes the lead-up to the murderplot make so much sense too. Bo and Vincent didn't just wake up one day and choose violence for no reason, but rather the pressure slowly built up: their father passing, the mill shutting down and all the jobs disappearing, then the town's inhabitants leaving, and lastly their mother's death. I imagine they found themselves alone in their now dead hometown, feeling washed up, lacking the practical and social skills to set off on their own (Vincent in particular), grieving the most pivotal person in their lives, and fit to burst with rage at the world. With their minds already cracked from their upbringing, and nothing to lose, it's easy to imagine how one thing led to another...Maybe some lost jackass gets a little too cocky with Bo at his mechanic shop, a fight ensues, Bo doesn't quite pull his punches like he knows he should and accidentally kills him. And then all it takes is a 'Yes, I know this is bad, Vince, but listen. You know how you've been having trouble sculpting like mama used to...?'

Anyway yes all this is to say this was a fantastic read! Thank you for sharing your thoughts, hope you don't mind me going on a mad ramble on your post haha. (Also could I ask you to link that study of a similar conjoined case? I've been looking for a real life counterpart to the twins' condition and could not find one for the life of me!)

Trudy refills Vincent’s cereal. He’s 2-3 years old and blind in one eye. He doesn’t need more cereal, he just needs his bowl rotated so he can see the cereal that was left over on his blind side. Not that we necessarily know how Vincent communicates without speech, but she hardly gives him time to answer her question about more before she’s refilling the bowl anyways. This is her approach to parenting her boys in general.

There’s no interest in fixing their actual issues. Rather than help Vincent to see what he already has in front of him, she’d rather add more, inadvertently also adding more onto the side he can’t see. At some point, this would just add to the issue. Overcompensation into overwhelm. Bo is brought in for breakfast kicking and screaming and it’s sort of evident why Trudy puts all her love into Vincent to the point of it being suffocating and unhelpful. Sure it could be a simple case of favoritism, but with the aspect of overcompensation specifically, it seems that she wants to balance her guilt over failing to parent one of her sons by pouring more effort than necessary into Vincent. Rather than giving the extra attention to Bo, it’s refilling a non-empty bowl of cereal.

I don’t think that necessarily mean she loves Vincent more. She finds him easier to parent. Fill the bowl whether or not he needs it because that’s easier than unpacking where Bo’s massive emotional outbursts are coming from. It seems more like love-bombing than genuine kindness. He’s “being such a good boy today,” but the implied part is an unsaid comparison to Bo. As twins, and conjoined twins at that, they’re not independent of each other. Vincent’s behavior exists only to contrast Bo’s, from her perspective. “Fix” his needs, and she can fix them both. Hence, preferring just to duct tape Bo to a chair than help him any.

Then Vincent grows up to become her protege, starting in his childhood but lasting until even after Trudy’s death. Over thirty years have passed since they were toddlers in those high chairs, but Bo gives a hint about why Vince got that ‘special privilege’ to not be as physically abused. “She always said that your talent would make up for what God took away from you.” Only, God didn’t take anything. Victor Sinclair doing illegal, unqualified surgery on his babies is why Vincent lost half of his face. Trudy only uses God’s name and religion as a shield for her own guilt about how her boys turned out. But it’s more likely she included Vincent in the wax business because she again, was dumping affection onto him over and over as her strategy.

Otherwise there isn’t as much favoritism between the boys. In their childhood photos, they both play piano, both play pool and baseball, both get to sit at the table with their birthday cake (without highchairs or bindings) and they play on the floor together. It's not entirely divisive between them, though it’s still obvious from which brother she’s slapping across his face and which brother she’s love-bombing which she’d prefer to deal with. Just not which she actually cares for more. Vincent wasn’t somehow spared from abuse in a house like the Sinclair household.

Interestingly, when Bo tells the story of Trudy and Victor, he mentions that once the Doc died, they were alone. Except, there’s at least one version of a prop newspaper stating that Trudy created a wax memorial for Victor. So this is just a false version of events most likely. Sure it could be that a decision changed, but there’s also the fact that, in the guns and ammo store, there’s a sign that says “Trudy’s Town or Wax.” And Bo tells Vincent, “We almost finished what mama started.” She’s also much older than the Trudy we see in the family photos and articles (even with the amount of cigarettes that woman smoked.) Ambrose is confirmed to have been abandoned for a decade, but to be turned into wax, Trudy would’ve had to die sometime between the abandonment of Ambrose and the present. Else she would’ve been properly buried most likely. The plan to fill Ambrose was hers, it’s just Bo that suggests using real humans (according to his apology to Vincent, he takes credit for the idea anyhow.)

Which makes her boys at least in their mid twenties when she died. In an older version of the script, Bo had killed her and Victor, but knowing it would put them all in foster care, that doesn’t quite make sense unless they were older. So the order of events is, Doc dying, the sugar mill closing, Trudy planning to reimagine Ambrose, and then dying herself.

The reason that’s important is because it’s emblematic of just how much pressure she was putting on both of her boys. And that’s not love. With two mentally ill, abused sons, (maybe three, since Lord only knows how they treated Lester once he came along,) that’s just manipulation. Victor and Trudy aren’t cartoon super villains for being bad to their boys. But when you can’t even just rotate a bowl slightly for your half blind little one, it’s shallow. Trudy has her cigarettes right in the boys faces in the opening and in most of the photos. Smoking was in one study linked to about 1/3rd of conjoined pregnancies, and in a similar case of conjoinment to the boys, one of the twins had lost an eye and had a prosthetic, but with minimal scarring because of the surgery being done in an actual legal hospital. It’s not about God taking anything, or about which is a little monsted and which is a very good boy- it’s about Trudy and Victor both messing up from the very beginning and causing the boys losses, then refusing to take accountability for it. Or, in the symbolic sense, to just do the right thing and turn a damn bowl of cheerios towards your blind kid.

#genuinely that first paragraph KILLED ME!!!#10/10 #also this spawned a whole different ramble about Bo and Trudy that I will post shortly if anyone cares lol #vincent sinclair #bo sinclair #trudy sinclair #how: headcanons #how: characterisation #how: backstory #how: canon image

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moipale · 2 days ago

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Haustorium, Amygdala

a danny phantom fic, for ecto-implosion 2024 written for the lovely @pricklenettle's artwork

In the Realms, three humans take a pit stop on an island haunted by a gnarled mass of plants, so tangled they appear near-indistinguishable. One of those humans carries a burr from it back to Earth. In the Realms, all dead things that blossom into afterlife are gifted a core, which is a sort of mind. Minds, famously, think. And feel. Both of these things have consequences.

Gen, rated T. Body horror, POV nonhuman, parasitism/possession, and lots of plants.

Read "Haustorium, Amygdala" on Ao3 here, or see below the cut for a preview.

Cultivator!

O, Cultivator! Thank you!

You—tall-form, pollinator, self-locomotive, primate with hair like raven feathers and crocus-purple stems-of-walking! Cultivator, thank you for bearing Us sunward!

—

It had been so long since the Growth last felt life.

Or, not long at all, for some of its pieces; there are always things dying, always things afterlife-resurrecting, and thus, always newly dead plants twining with and becoming part of the Growth. But when considering the sum total of its pooled existence without life… well, it had been unfathomably long, indeed. The Growth had missed it: the breeze, the soil, the silt and sun.

The Growth had lamented its capacity to miss. Had lamented lamenting, although it could only do so in that distant way of planthood—that is, the halfway, imperfect imprint of emotion that the Realms “gifted” it, that which it gifts to all those who did not before think. Not that it knew this. This was the only sort of emotion it had ever endured. In life, consciousness was so simple: utilitarian signals and feedings and warnings bounced between each other, when growths were still distinct. Now—now it missed. For a time well past, it longed.

And in its longing, it was rewarded.

Three strange beacons of life passed through the Realms.

Eyeless, earless, the Growth did not see them so much as it felt their disturbance: how the Realms shivered and displaced, death recoiling from that which it could not touch. All the Growth’s collective attention sharpened. Immobile, it could do no more than reach a lurching vine here and there toward the ripples, looking for more, wondering—and then it froze. For the strangelifes, pulsing, un-dead, were coming toward it.

The Cultivator was the only one of the three which descended from the strangelifes’ moving metal hollow. She stepped from it onto the island of the Growth. She made contact with the land, let her ankles brush through its undergrowth, stepped carefully, did not trample—she was like a breeze more than a creature, caused less breakage, even, than the ghosts which floated and did not step. The Growth was fascinated. It readied its burrs and pollens. Clad in leathers and nonskins, the Cultivator had so many places on which to find purchase—so the Growth reached out and clung.

It wasn’t an intentional bid for life-again. The Cultivator, in her nondeath, was a curiosity to be sure—but the Growth did not imagine she was anything but lost, that she could possibly bear it home to soil-and-sun. It could not have known. When she rose again from the island, it was a mere few miniscule pieces of the Growth that clung to her: curious, sure—but merely hoping for another island to disperse to. As with every host that wandered close enough, the Growth reached out and latched on with one goal in mind: to find another home for it to occupy, another place to assimilate, another ward against extinction. So—it did not imagine the direction she was heading was sunward. It could not have known. And it would have been blindsided when they reached that precipice anyway, but before they did, before the depth of this opportunity became apparent, something else shocked it from curiosity into complete captivation.

The Growth could not take the Cultivator as a host.

The Growth had always been able to take self-locomotive things as hosts.

Not the rock of its islands, not the metal of the strangelifes’ hollow; these surfaces were too inert to parasitize, the metal too smooth for even lichens to cling to. Those self-locomotive dead who touched down on the islands of the Growth, however? Yes. All of them. They proved excellent dispersers, once the Growth learned how to pilot them to new islands, spread new Growth. None lasted all that long—but long enough. The Growth populated much of the Realms. The Growth had wormed into creatures plenty, and from their eyes seen, from their skins felt, from their ungravity flew. So why not her?

Her body rejected it. Simply and utterly. Perhaps because she was still living? As a test, when the Cultivator leant forward over the shoulder of another strangelife, the Growth hopped to him and attempted to dig in. And—success. Yes, this one could be seeded; the Growth would be able to parasitize him fully when the seed took root. So why not her?

The Growth redoubled its efforts. The Growth tried to seed her. But nothing! It could cling to her surface, could ride with her, could even dip beneath her skin and explore inside—but to no end! A barrier remained between her and it; integration was impossible, assimilation a dream. The Growth was fascinated. Curious. Captivated. Frustrated. It had been curious before, and it lamented that curiosity, cursed it—the Growth, limbless, was not meant to crave, to seek—but this was all the more consuming. It had not before known frustration. And from the frustration of unsated curiosity rose a bubbling new emotion it had never known, was caught up in the froth of: excitement. Like a berry stepped on, or a bloom punching open, the Growth felt liable to burst.

And then—life!

That piece of itself upon the Cultivator, which the Growth’s main mass communicated with, crossed from death into life, and the shock of it reverberated across that link. All the Growth shuddered. Islandsfull of leaf-and-vine rustled, curled, feeling. Life again! Life, air, soil, sun!

Or—not quite sun, yet. The Cultivator had emerged from death into but another metal casing, the air stale. But present! Oxygen: how the Growth had missed it! It tasted different now, admittedly; the Growth no longer needed it as it had in life. But it was so nostalgic. Another foreign feeling.

The strangelifes scurried about. They emerged from metal into less-stale air, and spent time there refueling: chewing, swallowing, that gory unphotosynthesis of animals. And then Seeded-Strangelife shooed the others away, and the Cultivator acquiesced to the shooing, and passed through a threshold, and there—

There was the sun.

[Continue reading "Haustorium, Amygdala" on Ao3 here.]

#danny phantom #danny phantom fic #ectoimplosion2024 #ecto implosion #ecto implosion 2024 #mine #folks i am real fuckin proud of this one. if youuuu like nonhuman narrators #if you like weird sticky nonhuman feelings #if you like horror that creeps up on you not because it's hidden but because the narrator doesn't understand how scary it really is #then YOU will like this fic. >:)

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justmeinatree · 21 hours ago

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06 - ‘Cause I Want You Bad

Summary : Part 6 to Let Passion Get Too Much … niall x louis x reader threesome

previous part /// jump to pt. 1

TW : smut, edging, subspace, pussy spanking

Word Count : 4.5k

GIFs : unknown, msg for credit

louis knew he shouldn’t be doing this. he shouldn’t have you on his lap, shouldn’t have his hands gripped into your bum, shouldn’t have you slowly grinding on him, shouldn’t have his tongue in your mouth. but when you came down the stairs wearing his grey sweat pants, louis just about lost his mind.

“where’s niall ?” louis groans, something that makes your eyebrows furrow. not that you didn’t love niall, not that you didn’t always want him around, just, right in this exact moment, you weren’t exactly thinking about him.

“’s saturday,” you mumbled against louis’ lips, as if that explained everything. but when you feel louis’ face contort into confusion, you explain between kisses, refusing to ever fully remove your mouth from his. “when we’re both home on saturday mornings,” you start, pausing to kiss louis deeply, your grip in his hair tightening, teeth sinking into the plushness of his bottom lip. “we take some time for each other,” kiss, “we like this cafe a few blocks away,” kiss, “he’s gone to pick up scones, muffins, coffee,” kiss, “s’tradition.”

and suddenly louis felt like such an intruder. you two had a saturday morning tradition, and here he was, getting in the way. he pulls away from the kiss, hand pressed on your chest, keeping you far enough to be just out of reach of his lips, eliciting the sweetest little whimper from you. “i can leave, darling.”

“wha- no,” you shake your head, pulling his hand from your chest, back down to your hip, mouth attaching to his neck, “he’s getting breakfast for three,” you explain, taking a moment to suck a small bruise behind his ear, smiling as you dip back into his lips. “s’about all of us now, remember ?” you murmur, not giving him a chance to really answer, too caught up in his mouth.

louis swears he can feel his heart swell at the thought. he was being included into a long standing tradition. if he’d ever felt insecure about his position in this relationship, it was definitely waning. the only problem now, is that louis’ desperate to get inside you, and niall’s on his way with breakfast, dammit. “how long until niall’s back ?” louis finds himself asking, most of it coming out as an incoherent mumble, one that he has to repeat when you give him enough time in between kisses.

you groan in frustration, eyebrows furrowed, “why are you so preoccupied with niall right now ?” seriously, the question may have come off bitchy, especially if your name was niall, but truthfully, you were having the most incredible moment with louis. him being all you could clearly focus on, and here he is, asking about someone else.

“isn’t this kind of pushing the cheating line ?” louis asks, remembering the night, a while ago now, where the three of you came up with one rule, only including louis if you were all present. and although louis’ quite sure that having a very heated makeout session won’t really bother niall, he can’t be so sure that the same could be said about putting his entire cock inside you.

you were still momentarily confused, until the rule floated back into your mind, when realization of louis’ apprehension made complete sense. you sit back on louis’ thighs, shoulders slumping, looking at him in pure adoration, “things have changed, significantly since then,” you chuckle softly. honestly, the opportunity just hadn’t presented itself for you and louis to have a moment alone like this, and therefore the rule lay far down in your memory, almost forgotten. especially by now, when you were pretty certain that niall would not mind one bit. he’d probably find it incredibly hot to walk in on louis’ cock buried deep inside you. “niall won’t mind at all,” you add for good measure, leaning forward to dip back in for more kisses, hips grinding down harder on him.

louis groans, whining slightly. fuck, he wanted to, wanted you, so badly. but he couldn’t bring himself to it without expressly hearing from niall that it was okay. he needed to be certain that the rules had changed for everybody. and so louis’ grip on your hips tighten, holding you in place, ceasing your movements, “not until niall gets back,” louis warns softly.

well fine, you think to yourself, but you didn’t have to make it easy. your hand grips into louis’ hair, tipping his head back, exposing his neck. your mouth works its way over his stubbly skin, tracing feather soft kisses, and teeny nipping bites. you take your time, slowly working over his entire neck, paying close attention to spots that made his breathing hitch.

louis kept his hands gripped into your hips, not allowing you the satisfaction of grinding down on him. but he was losing his resolve quickly. it was so easy to get lost in you, so easy to give into anything you wanted. and the moment your mouth closed around his earlobe, sucking and biting softly, as you breathe out a groan, one that reverberates right into his ear, shooting down his spine, going straight to his cock, louis was sure he’d lost complete control of himself for a moment. his body reacting on its own, hips bucking up into you, hard.

it pulled a moan from you, again, landing right in his ear, as your forehead rested against his temple. “again,” you whine breathily in his ear, figuring the trick to getting louis doing whatever you pleased. it seemed to go hand in hand with how much he loves and gets off on hearing niall speak.

louis can’t help himself, hips lifting again, groaning as he feels you, still wearing his sweats, surely sticky with your arousal by now. another thought that swirls through his mind, not helping the situation he’s put himself in. louis turns his head, catching your lips with his own, pulling your mouth from his ear, kissing you deep. kissing you hard. he needed a grounding distraction, and it was the best thing he could think of. plus, it kept your mouth busy from bringing him right to the edge.

it was a few minutes later, that you both recognize the thwacking sound of niall’s shoes being thrown off unceremoniously, followed by the trudging of his footsteps. “finally,” louis breathes, pulling away from your mouth, hips rolling hard into yours.

niall rounds the corner into the living room, right as you whimper, eyes locked on louis’. a smirk pulls at niall’s lips, dropping the coffees and treats on the end table, “guess the coffees are going cold this morning,” he laughs.

“fuck yes,” louis groans, head falling back on the couch, eyes closing, “i’ll get us more later, but for now, please just get over here.”

niall looks at you in slight confusion at the snippiness of louis’ tone. he’s met with your rolling eyes, and the word “rules,” as the only explanation you give. you can see that niall takes a moment, much like you did at first, just to remember what that was, eyes flicking over fondly to louis’ when he realizes. “since when do you follow the rules, anyway ?” niall asks, chuckling, even more confusion etched in his features.

louis groans loudly, laughing, as he shakes his head. he lifts his head from the back of the couch, cheeks turning a slight red as he looks back and forth between you and niall for a moment, gaze filled with adoration. “since i really don’t want to fuck up,” louis admits.

niall flops himself on the couch next to louis, pulling him in for a quick kiss. he almost couldn’t believe the surge of emotions at louis’ confession. “y’not fucking up, mate,” niall murmurs, eyes locked on louis’ as he says it, wanting him to understand the seriousness of what he was saying.

“we want you here, louis,” you murmur, reaching out to take his hand in yours, squeezing it. “in all the ways,” you add, meaning that it wasn’t just sex anymore.

louis knew. he knew this. you’d both been so sweet, and so patient, always reassuring him. truthfully, he just needed to get out of his own head. needed to let himself live this, be in it fully. “i know,” louis nods, his eyes holding so much truth, so much love. “i’m sorry, i’m getting there yeah ?” he admits with a soft sigh.

“remind ya every fuckin day if i have to,” niall chuckles playfully. although the statement stood, he happily would remind louis every day if he needed. still, lightening the mood was his strong suit, especially in moments like this, when you were both so clearly right into each other, bodies craving. it was no time to be having this talk.

both you and louis know what that meant. you both know niall well enough. the little joke was his way of ending the conversation, of tabling it until later when the time would be more appropriate. “now, it seems i’ve interrupted something,” niall smirks at the two of you, sitting back against the couch, making himself comfortable, taking his coffee and muffin, raising his eyebrow as he looks back at the both of you. “don’t stop on my account,” he smiles, taking a tiny bite of the chocolate chip muffin, and a small slurpy sip of his coffee for emphasis.

you bite your lip, looking back at louis, gentle smile pulling at your lips. louis looked so soft, so cozy. you couldn’t help but reach out and cup his jaw, pulling his face to yours, kissing him deeply again. you could feel how much more laidback he was now that niall was here. you hadn’t realized before, but now that he’s so much calmer, his entire demeanour looser, it clicks in your mind that he may have been a bit nervous earlier. you just aren’t sure why.

although it had been over a year since the first time you brought up the idea of a threesome in that hotel room, louis still relied heavily on niall’s cues for just about everything. not that he didn’t think he couldn’t, more that it felt tried and true, and he couldn’t fuck up since niall never fucked up. niall knew you so well, he just always knew. and louis’ still learning, so really, it just felt easier, and much less stressful, to feed off of niall’s cues.

so now that he was here, watching and savouring his breakfast, slowly growing a stiffy, enjoying this way too much, louis’ grip into you tightened significantly, his entire behaviour shifting.

niall though, wanting the show to move along, tuts softly, “get naked already,” he laughs around his mouthful of food. but still, it worked, as he watches you slowly raise to your feet, standing between louis’ legs, gripping the base of your tank top and pulling it off over your head. it was still much too early in the day for a bra, your chest instantly exposed to them. louis’ hands cup the sides of your breast, groaning softly, as his thumbs reach out to flick over your nipples, “beautiful girl,” he breathes, before his palms slide down your sides to the hem of his pants that you were wearing. louis slowly pulls them down, watching a strand of arousal connect your centre with his pants, watching it snap as the material falls down your legs.

louis groans, gripping your hips, pulling you up to him. his mouth instantly falls on your pussy, sucking up any arousal that he can. a loud groany moan falls from your lips, head tilting back, louis pulling one of your legs, bending it at the knee, and resting your foot on the couch next to him. the position gives him better access to your cunt, mouth working tirelessly, hands gripping into your bum, holding you in place.

you gripped into louis’ hair, centring yourself, as your eyes roll back, the messiness of louis’ technique always sending you reeling. he was everywhere you didn’t even know you needed. shifting from his tongue to his lips to his teeth, licking, sucking, nipping, from your clit to your entrance to inside you, pressed on your sweet spot. you’ll have to remember to ask if he has a technique, or if he just goes for it. either way, you were already so heated, breathing laboured, coming out in soft breathy pants.

with all the work that louis had put in before niall even got home, and the extra work right now, your cunt finally getting direct contact with the man you’ve been craving for the last half hour, you could feel yourself approaching your first high. could feel the heat start to spread through your body, could feel your muscles start twitching.

louis could feel it too. your tummy was spasming, legs trembling, moans more desperate. he brought you right to the edge, right to where the coil was about to snap, and he pulled away, looking up at you with a smirk, “not yet, love.”

his mouth, his chin were soaked, tongue licking over his lips, just waiting for your reaction. it took your brain a quick moment to catch up to the fact that your pleasure had ended so abruptly, a groan grumbling from the depths of your chest, falling forward, forehead resting against louis’, a look of desperation on your features.

all louis does, however, is press his mouth to yours, invading your senses with your own taste, licking into your mouth, depositing more of your arousal onto your tongue.

niall was watching on, desperate for a taste of you, his breakfast long forgotten, pants pulled down halfway to his knees, shirt discarded somewhere on the floor. he hadn’t given in by touching himself yet, but his hand was gripped into his upper, inner thigh, and he was losing resolve. something about watching the two of you was so hot to niall. he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, but he thinks he could do this for the rest of his life. watch you two until he’s so worked up that he needs to join.

your hips drop to louis’, his cock perfectly nestled between your folds, rolling yourself on him. the tip of his prick was hitting your clit so deliciously, then catching on your entrance with every sway of your hips. you were picking up speed, teased right to the edge just moments ago, now furiously in search of the high you’d been denied.

“makin yourself feel good, pet ?” niall asks, his eyes roaming both your bodies, entranced in the glistening pool of arousal you’ve left behind on louis’ skin, the little red fingerprint indents in your hips and your bum from the strength of louis’ grasp. it was a miracle niall had been able to hold out so long, and still somehow finding the composure to not jump in just yet.

louis’ eyes were trained on your centres, watching you use him to pleasure yourself. with every backwards glide of your hips, he could see just how wet you were making him, feeling your arousal pool below his cock. he could feel your clenches whenever he’d hit a more sensitive spot, could hear your moans getting breathier, your urgency becoming greater. you were close again. that much, louis was good at reading. and just as you were about to scream out, he was pulling your hips clean off of his, leaving you with no friction, and no means to reach your peak.

you do end up screaming out, although not as erotically as you’d planned. it was just about the most frustrating thing you could think of, making your entire body twitch as it came down from nothing. “please,” you find yourself begging, “please louis, please,” you add whinier, whimpering as you grip into him.

niall catches the moment that louis’ eyes flicked to his. louis was checking in, making sure that this wasn’t pushing you too far. he thinks that so far, he’s only witnessed you revelling in multiple orgasms. he’s never been a part of a scene that involved edging with you. by niall’s reaction though, louis knows you’re alright, that this isn’t your first time, that your whines hadn’t reached any thresholds as of yet.

and so, without hesitation, louis slides his cock inside you, angling his tip right for your sweet spot, something else he’s learned, and gotten quite pro at. it knocks the air straight out of your lungs, gasping for a breath, as louis keeps up a slow, hard pace.

your head rolled forward, looking down at louis desperately, unshed tears pooling in your eyes, pleading gaze hitting him. for the first time, he held all the cards. he could see that you were on the edge of tipping into floatiness. and no matter how much power your gaze held, louis needed to see where he could push you. as soon as your cunt started to flutter on him, tremors almost overlapping, louis pulls out, “not yet, darling,” he groans, watching the shift in your eyes.

louis only felt fully comfortable doing so with niall watching so attentively. he knew that if anything, niall had the situation under control. it appeased louis. and little did he know, it appeased you as well.

your body falls forward again, being left on the peak, just to fall once again. your mouth crashes onto louis’, needing an anchor for a moment, gripping his hair for balance. you were a whimpery, panting mess, your hips flailing, trying to escape louis’ grasp.

niall couldn’t hold back anymore. his cock was so hard, he was growing more and more needy, and he was desperate to have an opportunity at bringing you to the edge as well. so he comes to a stand behind you, fingers reaching out for your hole.

the added touch made you jump slightly, not having realized that niall had gotten up and was now right there. he’s quick to reassuringly shush you, murmuring, “y’still stretched from last night ?” his fingertips dance around your ring of muscles, index slowly breaching. you were so mellow, muscles still relaxed from last night, niall would have no trouble joining the scene. it makes him reach over to the drawer in the end table by the couch, pulling out a small bottle of lube.

louis looks on with a playful smirk and raised eyebrow, “dirty, the two of you,” he laughs, incredulously shaking his head. although, really, he shouldn’t be surprised at this point. obviously you two would have lube within easy reach, always at the ready.

niall slowly eased his way inside you, your muscles giving way easily, eyes fluttering shut, mouth parting as you moan out. your face was buried in louis’ chest, back arched, hips straight up. louis gently coaxed your head up a tiny bit, enough for him to kiss you deeply. you were so tingly, so buzzy, egged on by the moans niall was echoing out from behind you.

you were so close to the edge, brought closer and closer each time, almost permanently trembling. “please,” you whimper, needing to cum, needing it so badly. you were so hot, so desperate for a release. but niall didn’t allow it, pulled out a moment later, making you bite into louis’ lip, hard. your body trying to curl in on itself, unable to in the position you were in. “need to beg a lot more if you’re that desperate,” niall tuts with a smirk.

niall takes it upon himself to not allow you the break they’d been allowing you up until now, reaching below you to grip at louis’ prick, pulling a gasp from him, placing his cock right at your entrance, pressing you down to sit on him. both you and louis moan out loudly, bucking up into you, making you rise entirely, lifted by his hips, cock empaled into you.

they were taking their turns, bringing you right to the edge, pulling out and letting the other have a turn. it was constant, keeping you right there, unable to attain your peak. your body was limply being shuffled from straight up against niall’s chest, to folded over louis’ body. you were gasping for air, pleading with loud whines. the back and forth and back and forth feeling of switching holes and switching cocks, you could barely keep up, not with the way you were floating now, so far gone. you felt so properly used, like a doll for them to fuck. and you loved it. the best release.

you’d lost count of how many times they alternated being inside you. all you knew was that you were about to lose any resolve. you were teetering on the peak, and niall had started recognizing that their time inside you was getting shorter and shorter. but really, niall wasn’t ready to give you what you wanted. he and louis, however-

niall decides to keep your hips floating, above louis and a bit too far from himself. he reaches down below you, gripping louis’ cock and tugging quickly. it pokes a hard breath from his lungs, head falling back and baring his throat, “fuck, niall, fuck,” louis whines out, the sudden contrast from the slowness of his thrusts inside you, to the quickness of niall’s hand threw him in a bit of a frenzy.

as floaty as you were, you recognized that niall was working louis now, was bringing him to his own edge, while still denying you yours. it made you whine more desperately, crying out pleads, tears streaming down your cheeks as you realize that they’ll be letting themselves cum. without you. something they both manage quickly with all of their own edging in the process.

louis moans out, cum painting both your pussy and his own stomach, back arching as he does. niall uses the cum on his hand to stroke himself, cumming moments later, also painting your sopping cunt. it was so dirty, the image that niall was privy to. your heat leaking a mixture of arousal and multiple loads of cum, right down onto louis’ cock. without much thought, niall leaves an open palm smack right over your centre.

you cry out loudly, muscles spasming, gush of liquid erupting from your cunt. the spanking wouldn’t make you cum, niall knew that. but it sure could make your squirt. “colour,” niall’s quick to ask, quicker than louis even thought of it, another testament as to why he likes to have niall around for these moments. and as soon as a quiet “green” spilled from your lips, louis had shuffled down, head between your legs, taking a turn in landing his own smack to your cunt.

with another loud cry, you gushed some more liquid, louis’ mouth awaiting to catch as much as he could, happily humming as he swallowed. “want a taste, tommo,” niall grunted, landing another spank himself, louis ready to collect. he slithered from his spot between your legs, gripping into niall’s hair to tip his head back. louis pinched niall’s chin, making his mouth open, depositing your squirt into his mouth. niall moaned out, swallowing, mouth suctioning to louis’ in an intense kiss. their first one of the day. and they were indulging. full of tongue and teeth clattering, groaning right next to your ear, you whimpered, trying to get their attention, desperate for them.

once louis pulled away breathlessly, noting how blissed out you looked, leaned back against niall, head tipped over his shoulder, gasping for small breaths, body trembling, tear stains on your cheeks. you looked beautiful. louis kisses his way back down your body, figuring he could give into you just a tiny bit, before smacking your abused cunt once again, needing to taste more.

you were so far gone, you couldn’t think, your brain too prickly. the pleasure that had taken over your body was so intense, skin heated like it was being burned, electric zaps coursing through your veins. you’d long lost count of how many spanks your poor pussy had taken, revelling in the gushing pleasure it allowed you each time.

“make her cum,” niall speaks out to louis, starting to note just how far you’d fallen. no longer able to answer the question he’d been asking for a good minute. a question that you hadn’t even heard due to the ringing in your ears. nor had you registered the fact that he told louis to make you cum.

so a surprised squeak left your lips as his mouth closed around your puffy clit, suctioning it into his mouth, flicking his tongue quickly. “cum, petal,” niall murmurs against your ear, knowing that the words would reach your subconscious, trembling so hard as your high finally peaked. it was so strong, body wracking, you fell through niall’s arms, louis’ hands quickly reaching up to catch you. he slithered from under you again, letting you rest against his chest as you gasped and panted for breath, far out of consciousness.

you weren’t sure how long you’d been using louis to recover, but his hand was gently stroking your hair, niall sitting next to him, playing with your fingers, stroking your palm.

it was the soft shuffle of your head, burying yourself more into louis, that makes him realize you’d come to. his other hand reaches around you to squeeze you lightly, niall smiling at you, “welcome back, petal.”

you hum, nodding, smiling at them, still too exhausted and weak to lift your head. “be here all day if y’need, darling,” louis murmurs quietly, ready to give you the comfort needed after the intensity of the scene. your heart melting at his willingness, humming breathily, leaving a soft kiss against his skin.

niall can really see how good louis is with you, but also realizes that he’s leaning a little too much on his experience. he remembers the early days with you, when he could learn you and test with you. it’s those moments that brought you two as close as you are now. the opportunity to make safe mistakes and learn from them, getting to know each other intimately by trying and by getting messy. and he trusts louis, knows that you do too. it was just time for louis to trust himself, niall thinks. “we’re gonna need another talk, rethink those rules,” niall hums, watching you nod, and a fond smirk pull at louis’ lips. things had changed, it was time that the rules and the dynamic did as well.

……

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

tags : @acesofspadess @mar1posita @gorlsinmultifandoms @emmaarenstarr @slutforcoffein

@blondedmgc @daphnesutton @hslt-2809 @louischasesniall @take-a-cchonce

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pygmi-cygni · 18 hours ago

Note

thoughts on steven (maybe even roommate!steven) being a bit of a panty thief? my mind was wandering and i’ve been daydreaming about pervy steven… of all the three he seems he would win Most Likely To Be A (secret) Pervert™️

hm...I see the vision...😏

cw: smut, suggestive content, steven being a little freak <3

All of the boys have a strong sexual appetite. The only difference is, Steven is a little shy.

He knows what he wants (you) he just doesn't know how to ask for it

Besides, he feels all funky about it. He likes what you two have: tea in the morning, scrabble after dinner, maybe a bit of flirting, and then off to your (regrettably) separate rooms.

But ohhhhh how he just writhes in his bed. He can hear you on the other side of the wall. He knows. He can smell it too, when he does your joint laundry.

God it drives him crazy. He'll just kind of....wait for you to leave, maybe to go do the dishes, then he'll shove one in his pocket and hastily dump the rest in the washer.

After his little escapades, he'll spent ample alone time in his bedroom, only coming out to drink a glass of water, sheet imprints on his cheeks and eyes glassy.

You brush it off - maybe he's just getting some well-deserved sleep.

Um.....no.

He'll shove his face in between his pillows and jerk himself off as long as he can take it, the soft cotton panties wrapped tight around his achy length.

Sometimes he'll use them as a gag if he can't keep quiet.

Orgasm after orgasm until he's lost the ability to move, just laying on his soiled sheets and snuffling drowsily at the stolen pair, completely drunk in his love-nest.

He's not a complete arse, though, he always returns them washed.

Steven does notice a pattern.

You've got sexy pairs, regular pairs, sleeping pairs, and that-time-of-the-month pairs.

monthly pairs and sleeping ones are his favorites.

Not sure why, but the lace on your sexier ones gives him a rash and you notice the regular pairs' absence too often.

Nightime pairs smell the most like you. He doesn't like to soil those, just fondles them or presses them to his nose. Your lotion and the soft smell of your skin is soothing as he falls asleep. He'll tongue at the softer parts, imagining you laying there instead, your thighs instead of pillows cradling his face...

Monthly pairs, however.

Well.

You smell different when you're ovulating, obviously. Richer, headier. He'll get an immediate hard-on if he gets a whiff.

Steven keeps those for days, till he can barely stand it. they're usually the softest, too. He'll slick himself up and just go to town, thrusting and humping into the warm, wet, silky pocket of your panties.

It's dangerous cause he'll start moaning like a whore when he spills onto the mattress, bleating and whining until the aftershocks stop. He's gotta learn how to be quieter.

You caught him, once.

He'd fucked himself so hard he couldn't walk very well, acting a little clumsier when he came out from one of his 'naps'.

You were heading out the door and caught sight of his bedroom, slightly ajar.

A pair of light blue panties were twisted on his mattress in a mess of slick that was not yours.

Something sinister and wanting bloomed inside as you slunk out the door. Maybe a trip to the lingerie shop was in order.

tags!

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander

@to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love @purple-amaranthe

@unear7hly @chaithetics @buckyssugarchick

#x reader #fanfic #fluff #steven grant #steven grant x you #steven grant smut #steven grant x reader #moon knight #mr knight #moon knight x reader #moon knight fanfic #tumblr asks #asks open

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livingdeadmlm · 2 days ago

Text

Slight Age Gap with Daisuke 7/31

Pronouns: The reader refers to themself as a man once, and the Daisuke treats the reader as male mentally.

Physical Sex: not described

How far are things going? He is jerking off, and it implies he asks for a sexual favor after the fic ends

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of shitty porn tropes, Daisuke pictures while jerking off, slight age gap dramatize for the kink of the day. Reader is meant to be 24-26 and daisuke is meant to be 20-22 (yeah not that big comapred to the people doing 40+ dating 20 on this hellsite but whateva)

Outline: Daisuke has been lacking free time, especially with his slightly older coworker, so he takes whatever chance he gets for some relief

What inspired me to write how I did: Nothing!

Other: there is very little content fanfic wise for the fandom, so as I do, I join a month late with something half as good as what has been already posted, lol. But if you like this and want more my requests are always open!!!

You shouldn't fuck your coworkers; it's very frowned upon. Not only can it cause unnecessary work drama, it can negatively affect productivity. The two people could start fighting, or production slows down in favor of sneaking off. It was so looked down upon that Pony Express had a whole section in their training videos discouraging it. Even though Daisuke was an intern, he had to watch every video, granted very loosely. But what he did remember was the videos said nothing about jerking off to your coworkers.

With the others walking in and out semi-frequently when they needed your assistance to fix something, it was hard to catch some alone time, especially with you.

As Daisuke lay comfortably on his bed, the soft glow from his small handheld game illuminated his face, twisted in focus. The rhythmic clicks and cheerful beeps signaled each successful move he made. As you entered the room, the air was filled with the faint scent of soap and shampoo, letting him know you had just finished a shower without looking.

With droplets of water still clinging to your hair, you stepped over to your side of the room, your skin slightly dewy. As you kicked off your slippers and searched through your bags, you looked much more relaxed as Daisuke glanced over.

A cartoony sound of a crash echoed from the console as the intern was momentarily distracted and couldn't help but gaze at your bent-over figure. The colorful screen on the console flickered as the game over scene flashed. The intern's eyes widened as he tried to groan to cover up the fact that he lost because he was staring at your ass.

"Do you still want to borrow a blanket, Daisuke? I have an extra. These wool blankets make your skin feel awful in the long run." your voice gently broke the silence as you turned with the black blanket folded in your hands. Subconsciously, Daisuke rubbed his hands against the itchy wool before nodding.

You smiled, walking over to his bed and letting the blanket unfold in your hands. "Here, I'll tuck you in!" yanking off the hospital-esque wool blanket and replacing it with the plush black one you had packed. The blanket covered Daisuke completely as your hands tucked him in snugly. He couldn't help but laugh as you made a big show, tucking him in so tight. Your hands slipped under his body to make sure he was fully tucked in. Having your hands touch him so much made him a bit shy.

Laughter filled the air as you shared a sweet moment, your fingers gently resting on Daisuke's chest after giving it a firm pat. Unbeknownst to you, his heart raced wildly at the unexpected warmth of your touch. Your giggles quickly stopped as the door swung open, revealing curly.

"(Name), the light in my washroom went out. Would you be able to come and change the bulb? Jimmy keeps trying, but it's not turning on." Curlies's face was sheepish at the request, especially since it was so close to bedtime.

"Of course, caption," You did a small salute; Daisuke internally cursed at Curly for interrupting one of the few moments of touch you two have had. "Just had to tuck in the intern; can't have him sneaking off and causing trouble!" your hand grazed his hair as you stepped away from the bed, following a chuckling Curly out of the room. As you stepped out of the room, he caught your words. 'No, I'm kidding, he's a very good boy.'

Daisuke cast his gaze downward, taking in your words as he stared at his body swathed in the soft, tightly wrapped blanket. A familiar scent wafted through the air, enveloping him in a comforting embrace. It was a delightful combination of your body wash intertwined with the freshness of what he presumed was your laundry soap, a subtle, clean aroma. Beneath it all, he caught the unmistakable, soothing essence of you—something uniquely personal that lingered in the fabric.

As he began to unwind himself from the cocoon of warmth, he carefully shifted his position, rolling onto his side with his back turned towards the door. The smooth texture of the blanket brushed against his skin, and he instinctively pressed his face into it, inhaling deeply. Each breath brought him closer to that unreachable sense of comfort and safety as he reveled in the intimate sensations of the fabric against his cheek. Daisukes hand traveled down. He wore a loose pair of sleep shorts, making slipping his hands into his boxers easy.

He always had the vague idea he was gay or desired men in some way, especially during and after high school. Even now, 3 years later, he didn't think about it. Didn't think about it as his hand took firm hold of his dick. Didn't think about it as he held the blanket closer to his nose. He didn't think about it as all he could imagine was you. He didn’t think about it, as your words echoed in Daisuke's mind. Imagining you on top of him, pulling off his clothes, and while you wouldn't be his first kiss, you would be his first brush with non-awkward sexual contact. Daisuke covered his mouth as a whine ripped through his throat at the quick pace he set for himself. The fleece blanket you had brought from home filled his senses with your smell.

He didn't have much time or could make much noise, as the door was still cracked open. He could hear the muffled talking and ignored it instead of focusing on crossing the finish line. Thinking of your bent-over figure and the times you'd press against him trying to squeeze by in electrical. Your head would be close to his when you'd help him with a level.

A light, muffled, wet noise started as his cock began to drool. His lack of experience led him to imagine whatever scenarios he had seen in shitty pornos. Being a couple of years younger, he couldn't help but think of ones with more of a… power dynamic.

You in a button-up shirt with the first three undone tight slacks on pressing him against a blackboard in an empty lecture hall, his own tiny, poor quality plaid skirt, that he didn't have time to make sense of if he was supposed to be a college student, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Bending him over a desk, pushing up his black a-line skirt, and tearing his black nylon stockings as his thin-framed glasses mushed against the desk. As papers were scattered all over the floor around the desk. With a huff, Daisuke changed his laying position to lay on his back. His hand didn’t falter, but he was so close he could feel the slight tingle in his stomach start.

Handcuffed as you slide a baton up his orange jumpsuit-covered thigh, calling him a naughty boy. He couldn't help the slight whine that slipped as his legs shook with each pass of his hand. Now, picturing you taking advantage of his often spread-out position on the oversized couch in the main lobby. Your uniform is in its usual half-undone state as you slot yourself between his legs, ‘you’ve been such a good boy, Daisuke; how about a reward, huh? What do you want me to do?’ Deep eyes gazed into his own as his breath stuck in his throat. Your hands caressing his thighs, your head resting against his boner made very clear from his jeans.

Reaching the edge, eyes squinting and half-dyed blond hair splayed across the pillow, he finally spilled over his hand. The hot liquid coated the back of his palm as he huffed, the reality of his desperation not hitting him yet. He panted as he heard your thumping footsteps making their way back to the room. Grabbing a tissue from the bedside table, each employee was provided with a tissue. Daisuke cleaned off his hand and shoved the tissue under his pillow.

“Well, it's time to turn in, don’t you think? “ Daisuke quickly uncovered his face from the blanket. “Hey- are you okay? You’re all red!” You rushed over, placing a hand against his forehead, which, as you thought, was burning up.

“No! I’m okay. I just passed out for a second and had a, um, nightmare.” You sighed in relief, your hand remaining on Daisuke's forehead.

“It’s your first time on the Tulpar, and I get it. I would always have nightmares my first year as well.” You coughed awkwardly, taking your hand off his forehead.

“Sorry if it feels like I ever baby you, Daisuke; you coming on at the very last minute, and having never done this before, I feel a bit protective over your first experience here.” Your voice was somber, and while work was work, it made you sad to witness someone just a couple of years your junior facing the possibility of being tethered to this job for a long time as you have been

Daisukes throat was dry. The major shift in mood was hard to grasp as he squeaked out a thank you. You smiled softly. “I have to remember you are just three years younger and are just as much of a man as I am, and if you need my help, you know you can ask!” Daisuke squirmed at how he twisted your words for his dirty mind.

“I could teach you some handyman work when Swansea gets off your back a bit. I've been doing it for years, and sharing my craft would be fun to hang out!” You mumbled about being grateful for someone your age here, as everyone else was almost 10+ years older. Daisuke said a resounding yes to your offer. With a big grin, you stood up and shut the door, and the light in the room was flicked off as you wished Daisuke a good night.

“I think there is something I need help with (Name).”

#Mouthwashing x reader #Daisuke mouthwashing x male reader #Daisuke x male reader #male reader #M!Reader #x male reader #Mouthwashing x male reader

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anachronisticcrab · 2 days ago

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I can't win with fucking allo people.

I love being aroace. I'm proud of it, I'm not ashamed of it, all of that. I don't want romance or sex or anything along those lines, and I'm happy with that.

But in a society that puts romantic love at the highest peak of importance, I'm left out

I've lost more friends than I can count because they got a partner and no longer wanted me around as much, because they asked to kiss me so I would know what it's like cause how could I not want to, because I wasn't comfortable playing dating sims with them.

I can't win with cishet allo people because they can't conceptualize it. They want things to be in their field of understanding, and I don't fit into that, so they question me. About everything. Then they get a partner and I lose them to some degree.

Its possibly even worse with queer people. My queer friends place so much of their identity in their sexuality that it's nearly impossible to fit into those spaces when your sexuality and romantic preference is nonexistent. Queer liberation has massively been about how love is love, but I don't fit into that and I never will.

Allo people would prefer it if I wanted to want a romantic relationship, I think. If I wanted to want it, then I wouldn't be broken. Then they could make dirty jokes about me instead of just with me. Then they could joke about how we were basically married without me ever recoiling in disgust.

Then they wouldn't feel as guilty when they forget about me when they get a romantic partner.

But if I wanted to want, allo people would double down on how I haven't met the right person or that I'm confused. If I'm not 100% happy being aroace all the time, I'm not aroace enough. And I'm clearly wrong.

Side note: Why do allo people think it's ok to wish they were aro and/or ace? It's not funny to joke about it when u are one of the people who fucking ostracize me for it. It's not funny when youre not dating anyone and call yourself aroace, it's not a choice and it's not silly. It's not cute when straight women call themselves lesbians because they're annoyed with men, it's not cute when straight men call themselves gay because they're annoyed with women, it's not funny when people joke about being aroace because they're annoyed with romance. Also, why do allo people not think before they say shit like 'if u don't fuck/date, what do u do? How are u human?'

I don't put a ton of stock into my new friendships with allo people anymore because I just fucking can't. If I do, I will be completely fucking crushed when they leave because I know that when I do value a friendship, I will always care more about the allo than they do about me. I am sick of caring about others more than they care about me, but this won't change until I meet another romance repulsed aro, who I haven't met yet because (shocker) being aro? Not the most common sexuality.

Tl;DR: I just... I can't fucking win. I'm too queer for straight ppl, not queer enough for queer ppl, too aroace if I don't go along with amatonormativity and not aroace enough if I don't. I'm lonely, my allo friends will always value others over me, and I constantly have people undermining my sexuality with stupid jokes and offhand comments. I'm sick of allo people.

#og post #aromantic #asexual #aroace #ash rants #ash shut up

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kei-crocker · 2 days ago

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I was thinking about that exact moment when Phantom splits off from Danny and becomes Dark Danny, and why he acted the way he did:

After watching that Butch Hartman interview, it’s clear canon of the show and canon from the AGIT don’t quite match up, so honestly, it doesn’t make much sense to analyze that episode using the AGIT canon.

Still, AGIT does say Phantom, the ghost half of Danny, originally came from his desire to protect others. But after the Nasty Burger incident, he lost everyone he’d ever wanted to protect, and all the power he’d gained to protect them suddenly had no purpose. So maybe that's why Phantom’s existence got so warped—his entire purpose and the source of his power had disappeared. And then Danny, dealing with PTSD, asks to have his humanity removed so he can escape those painful memories. The irony here is that, by doing this, he ultimately causes his human half to be destroyed. It’s possible that the moment Danny wished away his humanity, the fate of his separated kid self was already sealed. Phantom wasn’t acting out of rage or losing his mind—he was acting with purpose, specifically to rid himself of his own humanity.

Right before killing his human half, Phantom forcibly splits Vlad and Plasmius, then enshadowed(posessed? I don't know what is the proper word for this) Plasmius. I see this as an extension of his original goal: he may have lost the ones he wanted to protect, but he was still seeking power. Phantom, having lost half of his strength(Danny's human part), saw that absorbing Plasmius might be his only way to become stronger. And then, to fulfill his other objective, he kills his human half to rid himself of his last bit of humanity.

Based on canon, it feels like ghosts’ ultimate goal, ironically, is survival. They get stronger through human emotions or interactions, but if they can’t do that, they lose power and potentially fade away. They’re technically dead, but at the same time, they're “living” their second life as ghosts, striving for survival by interacting with humans in pursuit of their goals.

From this angle, I feel like I understand Dan’s actions a bit better. Sure, he did say he’d do *anything* to get rid of Danny Fenton, but I think survival was also part of his goal. Dan is made up of the part of Danny that wanted strength to protect loved ones, and of Vlad’s pride—the part of him that wanted his loved ones to stay by his side, and this makes him ultimately craved power. Dan was bound to seek power; it was what kept him going. But once he lost his purpose and the means became the goal, he became twisted and distorted.

So if ghosts gain strength by following their purposes, giving them the power to continue existing, then what happens to Dan, a complete ghost who’s lost his original purpose? Can he set a new goal and live out his second chance? Or is a fading future all that awaits him now?

It’s interesting (and pretty ironic) that Vlad’s probably most loved—or most wanted love from—Maddie, Jack, and Danny’s family. So for Phantom, after absorbing Plasmius, to go and kill human Danny himself? That’s… dark. By killing the last person Vlad had to love or be loved by, Plasmius became just as twisted and warped as Phantom himself. The very reason Vlad pursued power vanished, just like Danny’s reason to seek power disappeared.

And then out of that despair and desolation that he’d brought on himself, Dan is reborn, only now he’s lost any memory of why he wanted power in the first place. All that’s left is this monstrous, destructive force, hell-bent on destroying everything in his path.

#danny phantom #dark danny #headcanon #agit #no romantic ship

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whiskeyandcigarsmoke · 15 hours ago

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"Stuck"

There are rare occasions, about once every few months, where Logan will just seem stuck, frozen within himself. Wade will wake up, and Logan is just sitting on the edge of the bed. Still wearing his same clothes as the day before, as if he sat down to get ready for bed and then just powered down. Wade doesn't know what sets it off. There's never anything in particular that happens that causes Logan to do this. It just happens, as if the weight of everything he carries, physically, mentally, and emotionally, just all becomes too much at once. He won't make a single sound, won't respond to anything Wade does, and just stares. Wade will put out coffee for him, and it's left to become cold on the counter. After a few hours, Logan will leave the bedroom and aimlessly wander around the apartment like a ghost. Still a creature of habit, even when he's lost to his own internal fog, Wade will watch silently, as Logan follows the same pattern he does every time. He'll go to the front door, as if to leave, stare at it for a , proceeds to his chair. Sometimes he'll sit, sonetimes he won't. Today was no sitting, apparently. Wade wishes he could snap Logan out of this strange behavior. He doesn't understand it and honestly, Logan doesn't either. It's like he isn't even apart of what's happening. They gave up trying to talk about it a while ago, but it is something Wade considers a strong contender for getting Logan into therapy. He worries about one day Logan actually leaving the apartment in the detached state. He shudders at the thought of an emotionally detached Wolverine wandering the streets, completely unpredictable in his reactions to things. It hasn't happened yet at least. So, for now, Wade just keeps an eye on him and tells Logan about it after he comes back from it.

He sees Logan wander over to the window, standing in front of it for a few minutes before leaning against the wall and fixing his gaze outside. Wade breathes a little sign of relief, Logan will set up there for a few hours and then most likely move thru his process to the next stage that Wade can actually help with. Confident in Logan’s routine that he knows he can safety leave him for a bit, he gets dressed to head out on an errand to pick up something to help Logan move thru this. Mary Puppins walks up to him, expecting Wade to take her with him. Instead Wade tasked her with the very important job of watching over Logan. She was a Deadpool after all and while he had never experienced it, Wade was confident that she could rise up to any challenge if need be. With Puppins watching over Logan, Wade took off.

Returning about an hour later, Wade found Logan in the same exact place with Mary dutifully standing guard. After praising her and taking her out on a quick walk, Wade gave her a special dog treat he picked up on his outting and watched her toddle off to her bed now that her watch was over.

Sitting down at their kitchen table, Wade emptied out his bag of supplies and got to work. A few minutes later, he walked up to Logan, and he wrapped his arms around him and hugged him tightly. Still no reaction from Logan. Wade had gone thru this enough times by now that it no longer hurt his feelings when Logan was like this, but his heart did hurt for Logan. No one could break thru to Logan right now, but Wade could help Logan break thru in his own. Slipping a cigar sized joint and a lighter into Logan's chest pocket of his shirt, Wade gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek before going over to the couch to spark his own joint. Inhaling deeply, he blew it in Logan’s direction and waited. As if saying a code word, the scented smoke set Logan into his next step. Wade watched from the couch, continuing to fill the room full of Marijuana smoke. Logan’s nostrils flared, taking in the smoke. He sniffed the air a flew times, huffing it out in a puff of air. And something in him seemed to clear a bit. He turned towards the window leading to the fire escape, and crawled out. The first time he did this Wade thought he was gonna have to chase a hazy Wolverine thru the city. But Logan just crouched down, perching on one of the stairs and staring out over the city. He repeats this again, but now with something recently new. Once perched, Logan pulls the pot cigar from his pocket, lights it and smokes it straight. And as the herb works it's way into his system, Logan breathes a shuddering sign of relief and begins to cry. There's no sound, no heaving sobs or gasping of breath. It's just silent tears streaming down his cheeks. As long as he keeps smoking he can recieve this blessed effect of pure emotional release. His entire face, his facial hair is completely saturated with his tears and Logan continues to take deeps breaths of relief as he finally feels some actual release of the weighted burden constantly tethered to his heart. Neither one know why this is the reaction pot has on Logan, it was discovered on accident by the two of them. But both are happy in different ways for it.

Watching from inside, Wade can't see much beyond the glow of the cherry whenever Logan takes a drag. But he knows what the effect will be. Having finished his own joint, he gets uo and goes into the kitchen to start making them something for dinner. About thirty minutes later, a tear streaked Logan comes back inside. Seeing Wade in the kitchen upacking takeout, having decided that was better then him cooking, Logan comes up behind Wade and wraps him in a hug, rubbing his face against the back of Wade’s head and snuffing at his neck. Wade stops messing with the food, waiting til Logan's done as this is all part of the process. Logan continues to hold onto Wade, pressing his forehead down onto Wade’s shoulder until he felt wetness seeping into his shirt. And there it is, last stage.

Logan's grip loosened and Wade turned around to face him. His eyes were bloodshot, his face was tear streaked and his facial hair was a mess. Wade pulled him in gently and kissed his forehead before wiping away Logan's remaining tears and drying his chops with the sleeve of his hoodie.

"Are you hungry, Peanut?" Wade asked simply, smiling gently at Logan.

"..yeah", Logan said quietly.

Wade is always there to help pull Logan out whenever he gets stuck.

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadclaws #hugh jackman #wolverpool #logan james howlett #logan wolverine #wolverine and deadpool #the wolverine #ryan reynolds #deadpool #wade wilson #fanfiction #fanfic #complex ptsd #420 #logan has alot of different trauma #logan howlett

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