#got kind of a mullet moment going on

[whimsicallesbian]

I cut my hair. Feeling v butch

[willowpains]

GIRLY we need more of latina actress reader! with Drew, I was thinking of her spending time with him and the fam at some summer house or sum and especially after season 3 filming and he has his saggy hair (OML) and one of his sisters prolly Brooke catches reader playing with his hair, and drew and reading dancing around the kitchen cooking breakfast in the morning!!!! and of course add anything else you would like!!! 

summer getaway

drew starkey x latina actress reader!

Your heart was really happy at the moment.

Drew’s family had kindly invited you to join them in their annual summer vacation at their summer house in North Carolina.

You would only be joining them for a week, because you were planning on visiting home in Mexico as well.

Jodi and Todd had been really nice asking you to join the family as they couldn’t imagine the trip without you.

And of course, Drew had not missed the opportunity of telling you how much you two would enjoy the little trip.

So you totally agreed.

And that’s how you two were currently enjoying the afternoon, watching the soon to be sunset on some chairs on the garden at the back of the house, while the rest of his family busied themselves inside.

Oh how you loved quiet moments like this.

You were sitting on Drew’s lap, he had one of his arms around your waist, while the other one rested on your leg.

You were hugging him, with both arms around his neck, while one of your hands played with his wispy hair at the nape of his neck, your nails scraping softly against his skin.

Drew sighed in content as he closed his eyes for a second.

“That feels good” he mumbled, leaning his head on your chest, giving you more space to work with.

You laughed softly at him.

“Yeah?” you asked softly, as you continued your movements, loving how he could absolutely melt under your touch at any moment. “I love your hair like this” you say, while running your fingers through his hair.

He had let his hair grown a little, going for a wispy kind of mullet.

And oh could he pull off any look.

You were kinda jealous.

“You love it huh?” he said teasingly as he moved back his head from your chest so he could look at you. “I’m gonna have to cut it off eventually doll” he said, as he removed his hand from your leg, so he was now holding your face.

You pouted at him.

“What if I convince you not to?” you asked playfully, leaning in to peck his lips, still playing with his hair.

He groaned into the kiss as you pulled back, smiling at him.

“You’re bad” he says, leaning in to kiss you again, before you both break apart at the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You two look back and find Brooke, Drew’s sister, peeking her head out from inside the house.

“Dinner is ready love birds!” she says smiling at both of you, just before going back inside the house.

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment, while you hide your face in the crook of Drew’s neck.

He lets out a laugh while he softly soothes your back with one of his hands.

“Oh my god I feel like a teenager that just got caught” you say into his neck.

He softly chuckles at your comment while placing a kiss on the top of your head, finding it funny and adorable how flustered you got any time his family catched any type of PDA from you together.

“Let’s get some dinner doll” he says, standing up from the chair with you in his arms.

You let out a shriek in surprise, as you wrap both your arms around his neck to support yourself.

“Drew put me down!” you say, laughing and watching him laugh at your reaction.

He shakes his head in amusement as he walks with you in his arms towards the house.

“Just enjoy the ride love” he says placing a soft kiss on your temple, as he takes you inside the house for you to have dinner with his family.

After dinner, you and Drew offered to pick up table and clean up everything. His family had worked so hard to put everything up, so it was your turn to do something.

“I’ll do the dishes” you say, walking to the sink and starting to clean them up.

Contrary to popular opinion, you loved doing dishes.

There was something so calming and relaxing about getting your hands soapy, bubbly and extra clean that just did something to you.

“I’ll clean up the table” he said, walking off before pecking your lips, leaving you smiley.

You could hear the clatter of forks and plates, and then, he was walking into the kitchen once again.

“Alexa, play lover by Taylor Swift” Drew said out loud, making you turn your head and look at him with a smile, while he gave you a playful look.

Your heart warmed as he approached you and offered you his hand.

“May I?” he said, giving you a big smile.

You could feel the butterflies going crazy in your stomach, and it made you smile even harder.

Quickly, you turned around to rinse your hands while patting them dry, only to face him as he pulled you in.

His hands moved to your waist, and you tangled yours around his neck, looking up at him with an adoring look.

“You know how to charm a girl” you say, feeling like the luckiest girl in the world.

He chuckled softly as he looked down at you between his arms.

“I only care about charming you” he says, twirling you softly and catching you back, pulling you close to him. “That’s all I ever want”.

His words make your heart flutter, as you rest your head on his chest, enjoying the kitchen dancing session.

With Taylor’s songs behind you, you feel content and at peace, honestly, wherever Drew was, as long as he was with you, you were at peace.

“I love you baby” he says, swaying you both to the rhythm of the song, while he places a soft kiss at the top of your head, while his thumb slowly draws gentle circles on your waist.

You could stay like that forever.

At his words, you look up at him, moving one of your hands that played with the hair on his neck, to his cheek, grazing it softly.

“I love you more mi amor” you say, unable to hide the smile appeared on your face.

He leans down and captures your lips on a kiss that communicates everything you’re both feeling without needing words.

Unbeknownst to both of you, his family was watching, more like peaking, your little romantic moment.

And they had been getting glimpses of your love throughout the trip.

They loved to see their son in love.

In love with you.

Being loved how it should be.

Having you as part of the family.

They knew you were both lucky to have found each other.

The next morning, you were back in the kitchen.

You had offered to cook breakfast for the family, telling them how you wanted to show them a typical mexican breakfast that you knew they would all love.

Drew as always, had offered to help you, being the one who always tried all your recipes.

“Is it good?” you asked, after he tasted your green sauce for chilaquiles.

You liked cooking. You weren’t the best, but you definitely weren’t the worse.

It was enough to make your mom proud, and you could work with that.

Drew paused for a moment as he closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure.

“It’s delicious baby” he said, as he enjoyed the flavors dancing on his tongue.

You squinted your eyes at him, not truly believing his words.

“Be completely honest amor” you said, leaning your hips against the counter, looking at him attentively. “You won’t hurt my feelings if you tell me something’s missing” you admitted giving him a smile.

Drew paused for a moment, before going back and trying the sauce one more time.

He hesitated, his eyes closed, concentrating.

“Maybe a little bit of salt” he said, one eye open waiting for your reaction.

You smiled at him while playfully hitting him on the chest.

“You’re so dramatic” you said laughing, before turning to the stove and adding a bit more salt to finish everything up.

He laughed before placing his hands on your waist, and resting his chin on the crown of your head.

“And you’re amazing” he said, silently enjoying the domestic side of you two being on vacation, sharing with family or not.

You hummed at his words, resting your back on his broad chest.

“Help me serve the plates?” You said, turning around and pecking his lips softly.

Drew scrunched his nose in annoyance as you broke the kiss, looking at him with a smile.

“Let’s make them wait a little longer” he said, wrapping one of his arms around your waist pulling you in, the other one around the back of your neck capturing your lips in a kiss.

You smile between his arms.

Later that night, everyone was chilling and winding down from spending the day out on the beach.

You and Drew were laying down on the couch. You were watching a marvel movie playing on the tv, while he attempted to read a few pages of a book he hadn’t picked up once since arriving at the summer house.

He was trying really hard to stay focused on his book but he seemed to fail, because from what you could see from your position on top of him laying your head on his chest, around 10 minutes had passed and he hadn’t flipped his book page.

You giggled softly as he tore his eyes away from the tv to look down at you.

“What’s so funny?” He smiles sheepishly at you, holding his book with one hand.

You lifted your head, resting your chin on his chest to be able to meet his eyes.

“You’re getting distracted” you say smiling at him. “Just give up already and enjoy the movie amor”.

He hesitates for a moment, looking between the tv, his book, and you.

He sighs, shaking his head and smiling.

“I’m weak” he says closing his book and leaving it next to him on the couch.

You giggle softly before going back to resting your head on his chest and watching the movie, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“Everybody’s weak when Avengers Endgame is playing” you say, getting immediately lost in the film again.

Drew chuckles softly as one of his hands finds its way to your back, drawing circles, lulling you to sleep. While the other, tangled itself in your hair, scratching your scalp tenderly.

Your eyes began to flutter at his gentle touches.

The weight of being out on the beach all day, mixed with Drew’s fingers against your skin, were making it harder for you to stay awake.

Your eyes were fighting to stay open and continue watching the movie, because no matter how many times you watched it, you loved it every time.

But next thing you knew, you had fallen asleep over Drew.

He didn’t realize when exactly you had fallen asleep.

But when he looked down at you to watch your reaction over Black Widow’s death, he smiled at you being completely asleep and relaxed.

His heart fluttered at the adorable sight before him.

He had to capture it.

So he reached for his phone and stopped breathing for a second to get a perfect picture of you mid dream.

“What are you guys-“ Logan, Drew’s brother, came into the living room and paused mid sentence as Drew sent him a death glare signaling for him to shut up.

Logan lifted his arms in sign of peace, as he slowly walked into the room, silently sitting on the individual couch, immediately getting into the movie.

You were still deeply asleep.

An earthquake could hit and you probably wouldn’t notice.

So Drew threw his phone somewhere next to him, and went back to watching the movie and cradling you between his arms.

He could stay like that forever and he would be the happiest man on earth.

*

thank you so much for your request! I absolutely adored it and had so much fun writing it<3 sorry if it takes me a minute to post, sometimes I’m a bit of a slow writer

I actually loved the concept so much I’m planning on making a moodboard for this soooo stay tuned

I’m so happy to see people enjoying the latina actress reader universe as much as I do, thank you all so much!

as always, if any of y’all wanna read, ask or see something in particular from latina actress reader let me know<3

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;) 

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1426

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

nothing could have prepared you for the man who walked through the front door of the inn that day.

he looked like death, his chocolate hair tangled, his square jaw riddled with bruises and dirt. heavy eyes fixed themselves upon your figure.

"you got a spare room?"

that voice, gravelly and low, betrayed the exhaustion that plagued this mysterious stranger. you couldn't help but stare for a moment, lost in thought.

"i ... ah, yes, of course. just a room for one?"

your hands swiftly moved to ring him up, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. the man visibly reacted to the metallic sounds of the register, an expression of mild panic settling in.

"yeah ..." he dug through his pockets, patting himself over until he secured a grip on his wallet. pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing nothing but an ID and a few sticks of gum. he clicked his tongue, defeated. "... this is embarrassing."

it was evident that something wasn't right with him; he looked as if he could collapse at any given moment. should you just deny him service and let him leave? what if he just got himself into deeper trouble? was he even in his right mind?

there was a fleeting moment of awkward silence as the two of you avoided eye contact. you took a sharp breath in.

"... tell me, sir, what's your name?"

his bushy brows rose in surprise. "er ... stan. stan pines." stan gave you a once-over, pulling a sly smirk despite his run-down appearance. "why? ya like what you see?"

a sort of scoffing chuckle left your lips. "this isn't really the time for jokes ..." your eyes trailed down to his stained jacket, torn-up jeans, and over worn shoes. at that, he laughed, which quickly turned into a painful cough. the concern became more evident on your face.

"-ah, you're right, of course. nobody would really want a guy like me, yeah?"

you couldn't bring yourself to respond to that. you could see the storm in his eyes.

turning your back to the counter, you picked up a key that was hanging from the wall, holding it out to him as you met his confused gaze.

"room 34. your stay will be on the house tonight, sir."

"... you're pullin' my leg."

"no, i'm perfectly serious."

hesitantly, he reached out his hand to take the key. your fingers brushed against his rough skin briefly before you pulled your arm back.

stan simply stood there, still processing what had just been given to him. he'd tried this before with numerous other places, and they'd all shut him down. he'd been through ... how many, four, five different states by now? finally, a night where he doesn't have to sleep in his car. the notion of spending a night in an actual bed ... seemed unreal.

"well, i ... damn. th-thanks, toots." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. a faint shade of pink rose to his cheeks, which he attempted to play off by staring at the ground.

how long had it been since anyone had shown him this kind of generosity?

unsure of what to do, he decided to make his way over to his room, locating the staircase and climbing up, stealing a glance back at you. you watched him ascend the stairs, leaning your arms against the counter.

your mind continued to race. the man looked like he'd just been in a fight. did he have wounds that needed treatment? did he have any place to go? ... of course, those were all personal questions that you knew you shouldn't ask about. he is only a customer ... at least you could offer him somewhere to crash for the night.

it had been two hours.

two hours, and yet, you still couldn't get him off your mind.

you figured you might be able to offer him some dinner.

or was that just you trying to come up with an excuse to see him again? you didn't think about it too hard.

making your way over to the kitchen, you had the chef prep a single serving of food, laying it out on a tray which you picked up and began to walk with. the carpeted floor softened the sound of your footsteps.

arriving at the end of the hall, you stood in front of the door labeled "34", hesitating. you steeled your nerves and knocked gently on its wooden surface.

a few moments passed. you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and footsteps as stan made his way over to the door, opening it and observing his visitor. he was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair damp and his face looking much cleaner than before.

"sorry if i came at a bad time. i just figured you might want a bite to eat." you averted your eyes by glancing to the tray of food you held, a faint blush rising to your face.

twinkling lights began to glisten in place of the dark storm you'd seen in him before. his expression softened in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.

eventually, he spoke.

"why are you doing this?"

"... what do you mean?"

"i mean, you're wastin' your good food 'nd room. you deserve your money-"

he cut himself off, swallowing back a bitter feeling in his throat.

"-i ... i need to ... pay it back."

oh. is he ... crying?

you could feel your heart wrench in your chest. "s-stan. it's okay."

he furiously blinked back tears, taking a deep breath and putting on a weary grin. "will ya keep that food hot for me? i'm just gonna get dressed. i think i'll eat it downstairs."

"oh, of course."

"thanks a bunch." he winked at you, then shut the door, leaving you to stare at the room label again. you blinked, then turned around to head back down.

after some time of waiting in the kitchen, you caught the sight of him descending the staircase and walking over to you. he was wearing a different shirt, although his jacket and jeans were the same. his hair was dry and much poofier now that it was clean. you caught yourself staring at his mullet.

"didja wait for too long?" stan pulled out a stool from the bar, taking a seat and watching as you put his plate of food in front of him.

"nah, you're okay." you offered a small smile. "feel free to dig in."

and boy, did he dig in. this man hasn't had a proper meal in forever. his daily diet has consisted of strictly rationed cheap snacks and the occasional stolen burger and fries. you swore you've never seen a guy so happy to eat something before in your life. somehow, watching him was making you feel warm inside.

"this ... is the best food i ever tasted." stan mumbled, looking up at you in between bites. all sorts of different emotions were raging inside of him, and the feeling of being properly nourished was bringing them up to the surface. his brown eyes began to overflow with tears, and he cursed underneath his breath, eating more aggressively to try and distract himself.

"uh, stan? are you alright?"

that was the last straw. his brows knit together and he swallowed his food, dropping his fork onto the plate. the tears were flowing freely now.

"no. dammit, i'm not alright."

stan covered his face with one arm, his broad frame trembling as he choked back bitter sobs.

"it's just that ... m-my parents, and i ... s-see- and my brother-"

he hunched over, shifting to cover his face with both hands. everything was crashing down.

"oh, God, my brother ..."

you walked out from behind the bar, making your way over to where he sat and taking the seat next to him. you didn't really think at all, you just slid your arm around his back and-

the instant he felt your touch, stanley clung onto you desperately.

onto somebody who was showing him hospitality. onto somebody who cared enough to worry about his health. onto somebody unlike anybody else he'd met these past few years.

burying his face into your shoulder, he pulled you closer against him.

"'m sorry ... don't leave me alone."

the wetness of his tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. here in your arms was a little boy who just needed a hug.

you barely knew each other, but you had a feeling that was going to change.

"don't worry, i'm not going anywhere."

end

[ part two ]

[finelinevogue]

hot stuff

summary - it’s summer in italy and you’re very in love with harry

pairing - fiance!harry x reader

word count - +1k

[ inspired by today’s pics of harry in rome ]

🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊☀️🌊

Life was pretty good.

Life was currently simply enjoying summer in Italy with your fiancée.

Life was sitting around a pool, drinking margaritas and tanning until the sun could give no more.

At this moment in time, life was watching your fiancée get out of the pool whilst you keenly watched.

Harry wiped his nose as he got out, pulling his swim shorts to the right level so he didn’t show everyone what was beneath the happy trail.

It was a Saturday and you were hosting a pool party.

Since you and Harry had bought a summer house out in Italy you’d met lots of new people, a lot of which were Italian residents.

Every so often you liked to invite people over to have fun and just enjoy life the simpler way for once.

So here you were, enjoying the simple life.

You watched Harry approach, water dripping off his skin and onto the paved floor beneath him.

The sun was hot, but you had to admit he was even hotter.

He’d recently decided he wanted to try grow a mullet and it was slowly getting there. The scruff on the back of his neck was growing and it made you weaker every time you saw him.

His mullet mixed with his tanned, tattooed, skin made him - being biased - the hottest person in Italy.

“Hey hot stuff.” You chuckled, as you said, as he got closer.

“Objectifying me now, are we?” He feigned hurt, walking to stand over you and your sun-bed, “I’m more than just my incredibly good looks you know?”

“A little modesty wouldn’t hurt you.” You mumbled.

Harry perched one hand on the back of your sun-bed and leaned down to your head height.

“What did you say? Hm?” He challenged you with a smirk.

“Oh, go away.” You playfully swatted his thigh.

“Gimme a kiss first.”

You couldn’t deny him, or you, the pleasure, so you leaned up a little to meet him and sealed your lips to his.

You quickly followed his lips, leaning up more so he could kiss you harder. Harry cupped the back of your neck for support, whilst you desperately wanted to tug on the hair at the back of his neck but couldn’t quite reach from this angle.

You let out a soft moan as he bit your lip ever so slightly, before he pulled back before you two ended up getting too carried away.

It was funny how you still got shy and giggly after you’d have a proper kiss. Harry brought out a side of you that felt like you could be in the honeymoon phase of your relationship forever.

“You wanna go upstairs?” You asked, watching him stand tall looking down at you.

“Baby, you know I’d love nothing more, but unfortunately we are the hosts.”

Oh yes.

The pool party that you were hosting, well kind-of hosting because honestly some of your friends were doing a better job of refilling drinks and having conversations than you or Harry were.

“I’m so horny right now, it’s not even funny.” You huffed.

Harry let out a laugh, before wiggling his way to sit down beside you on the same sun-bed. His body felt warm against yours and it did nothing to submerge the want you had for him right now.

“I know.”

“What?”

“I mean, you made me get you off half an hour ago in the downstairs toilets because you said, and I quote, were ‘going to die’ if I didn’t.”

“That was a real problem.”

“And I really fixed it.” Harry said smugly.

“Go away if you’re not going to help.” You tried to push him off your sun-bed but he made no move.

Instead, Harry completely ignored you and leaned back. His body sat sideways across yours, his head tucked just under your chin.

He was such a weight on your body, but a comforting weight.

“Harry, dude…” You pretended to be annoyed, but in reality you craved nothing more than the proximity to him. “You’re making me all wet.”

“See… I’m helping.”

You chuckled at that, kissing his forehead.

Your hand got to sneak up to the back of his neck and scrunch the scruff of hair he had there. You liked twirling your fingers around certain curls and then pulling them straight. Harry liked it too.

You were both quiet for a while, watching friends and neighbours pass you by.

People left you and Harry to be with each other, only stopping for a quick hello or to tell you how beautiful your house was.

The weather was warm, but the cross breeze was nice and cool. It made for the perfect temperature and was very close to lulling you to sleep with Harry safe in your arms.

“2 days.” Harry mumbled.

“Hm?” You said.

Harry tilted his head slightly to look at you, whilst you leant down with your five double chins at him.

“2 days and then you’ll have my last name.”

You warmly smiled at that, using your hand not occupied with scrunching his neck hair to cup his cheek and softly brush the skin there.

You leant down the best you could and kissed him as if that did more than words could do.

And it did.

“3 days and we’ll be going on our honeymoon.” You said this time.

“Manchester doesn’t know what’s coming.” Harry joked.

“Can’t believe we’re having our honeymoon in Manchester.”

You and Harry both chuckled at that.

“Yeah, but it’s home.” Harry smiled, pulling at your hand to move away from his cheek so he could hold it. He messed around with your engagement ring sat pretty there, mesmerised by the fact he even found someone to give the ring to.

“I’m actually excited to see some greenery. Maybe some cows and grey clouds.”

“Yeah.” Harry belly laughed.

“Remember that cow from that holiday to Cornwall with your parents?”

“My dad thought he was a cow whisperer or something.” You laughed at the memory, making Harry’s body shake at the motion.

“It’ll be nice to just go on walks in peace and not have phone service.” Harry turned his head to face you again, your hand still stroking his neck, “Nice to just be with you.”

You smiled with a blush, because how could you not when he spoke to you like that.

“I love you.” You kissed him.

“I love you.” He kissed you.

He sat up then, seeing where he’d left damp stains over you and your towel. His hand kept him propped up over your body.

Harry looked out to your guests, taking each one in quickly and smiling at those who smiled his way, before turning back to you.

“Wanna go upstairs?”

You perked up at that, “Really?”

“Yeah,” He leaned over to kiss you and your enthusiasm, “Only got 2 more days to have sex with my fiancée, gotta make the most of it.”

“I’m not even going to question your logic right now because I’m getting what I want.” You jumped up off your sun-bed. “Let’s go hot stuff.”

[octuscle]

Now open under new management (remake)

Edward Parker III rolled down the car window a crack. Peter, his driver, had switched off the air conditioning to save fuel. The fuel gauge was practically at 0.00. Here, in the middle of nowhere, they had no mobile network. The last Google message said that a petrol station would appear at some point. And Peter claimed that it should open in five minutes. Open from 10:40 am. Strange opening times. Edward's stomach grumbled. Something had gone wrong at breakfast. The car desperately needed a gas pump. And he needed a toilet just as badly. Then, like an oasis in the desert, a building appeared in the middle of endless cornfields and pastures full of stupidly staring cattle. It was 10:39:50 a.m. when Peter steered the car into the dusty gas station with the last drop of gas. At 10:40 sharp, Edward yanked open the car door and jumped out. And the moment his spotless Oxfords touched the ground, the neon sign flashed. Open!

Edward ran towards the little store where the neon sign was shining. He was far too intent on not wetting his pants to notice the leather soles of his shoes turning into a firm rubber tread. When he pushed the door handle down, he got something like an electric shock. He didn't care. The store was empty. His palm became calloused. His fingernails were black. There was a door at the back labeled "Private". Hopefully there was a toilet there. Thank God the door was open. And thank God there was a toilet. In the middle of a room full of tools, car tires and packages. It stank miserably. But Edward didn't care at all. He had already undone his belt while running, unzipped his trousers, pulled them down and dropped onto the dirty toilet seat at the last moment. And he had to shit like never before in his life. The stench was overwhelming. But the relief was immense. Edward finally relaxed again. But only for a second. Then his eyes fell on the dirty biker boots. They contained a pair of completely filthy jeans, pulled down as far as they would go. And what was even more irritating: his right hand was the hand of a construction worker, the sleeve of his shirt had disappeared. And the fabric of the right sleeve of his jacket was also coming undone. And on his chest and back, the color changed from a navy blue to a washed-out red. What the hell was going on here?

Even greater than the panic was the disgust at the stench. His left hand, still freshly manicured, reached for the toilet flush. And again he was hit by an electric shock. Panicked, he watched as his fingernails became dirty and his hand calloused. Edward's gaze fell between his legs. That wasn't his circumcised, shaved penis. That was a cheesy, hairy cock. Much bigger than it normally was. Edward had to get out of here! He hastily wiped his ass. A tight, hairy ass, sitting there on a familiar toilet seat. A man needs a good place to shit. Hehehe, this was a good place to shit. Stumbling, Edward stood up, his head spinning. He looked in the mirror. That was still his head. But the rest of him? His stiff white collar and tie knot vanished into thin air, revealing a well-toned chest. The last remnants of the finest navy blue wool on his upper left arm disappeared, and the transformation of his jacket into a washed-out and worn-out tank top was complete. I look like a fucking hillbilly, were his last thoughts before he grew a scruffy three-day fuzzy beard. His $100 haircut became a home-cut mullet. Damn, the greasy hair hadn't been washed in a while.

Loud honking from outside. "Damn, I've taken a shit! Can't you wait?" Edward shouted. He wiped his hands on the dirty cloth stuck in his pants. Washing hands was for sissies in the city. He entered the yard of his gas station.

Hehehe, he knew the dirty truck that was parked there at the gas pump. "Pete's services of all kinds" was written on the door. And Pete Jr. was hanging in the cab with a visible bulge. "Eddy, don't you always promise the best service at your gas station?" said Pete with a grin. Ed spat out the chewing tobacco and licked his lips. "Go ahead, gas station attendant. The belt buckle won't undo itself!"

Full service and guaranteed customer satisfaction. That's what Ed's gas station was famous for.

[orgverse]

san's red hair got me and @sanjoongie going crazzzyyyyy. so please enjoy this while i make topaz suffer. N E WAYS this is also apart of a pornstar au that i'm currently working on, so enjoy!!

for the two, almost three, years you have known san, he has always had black hair. you remember watching videos and seeing him with different colored hair, but never in person. when him and wooyoung had reached out wanting to film a video with you and hongjoong, he had just cut and dyed his hair back to black from the blonde mullet he hand. and since then its been black.

so you were throughly surprised when you opened your apartment door and was greeted with bright red hair. your jaw dropped, literally. you probably would have started drooling if san didn't start teasing you. "you'll catch flies, star girl."

you were def going to be seeing stars soon.

san had volunteered to help you with your stream tonight since seonghwa was away visiting his parents, and hongjoong was busy editing the film you just finished shooting with yunho.

"no wooyoung?" you asked when you noticed the louder of the two males nowhere in sight.

"nah, he says he wants to stay home and watch the stream instead. think he said something about wanting to support his fav girl," he told you he walked into the apartment and removed his designer shoes. you noted how sexy san looked with his entire outfit. simple, but san was good at making simple look sexy.

his black tank top doing well to show off his muscles and his slim waist, and his jeans hugging his body nice and framing what little ass he has. but you won't tell him that because he would argue he does have an ass. sure, san, sure. he takes off the jean jacket he had been wearing and hangs it over the computer chair that seonghwa usually sits in.

he towers over you as he watches you pull up the website, love-heart-xx, and set up the stream. you remember san mentioning how he had streamed too back before he stopped and focused solely on just porn films.

"you're setup is very cute. very you," san says when you get up to let him sit down. that's when he finally takes a few moments to look around the room.

"o-oh, you think so?" you ask, a little caught off guard by his words. san nods his head, red hair bouncing with the movement.

"all the decorations are cute and welcoming, it makes it feel like its your personal bedroom and not a separate one. it feels... lived in," he explains and you feel a heat spread through your body at his words.

you've always admired san, having watched him since he first started his career in the porn industry. you kind of wish you found him when he still streamed. it had always been a goal – a dream actually, to film with him.

and now he's helping you with your stream. un-fucking-real.

"well, i'm going to go get ready! i'll be right back!" san doesn't say anything, but nods his head and gives you a smile before you're turning and walking out of the room.

walking into your actual bedroom you share with hongjoong, you find your lover sitting at his computer, headphones on, and eyes focused on the video editing program in front of him. you notice he's at the part where you and yunho were making out. yunho's hand holding your chin as his tongue licks over your own before he's sucking on it. you remember that scene and knowing what comes next makes you rubs your thighs together.

no, you needed to get changed. walking over to your walk-in closet, you go over to the section that was specific for streaming. you dug through your clothes before pulling out a dark blue lingerie set. when you walked out of the closet, you noticed hongjoong had his headphones off and was turned facing your direction.

"hey, babe," you said putting the lingerie on the bed before you take your shirt off. you notice hongjoong is looking at you, his eyes focused on how your breast bounced a little before you're taking your shorts and underwear off.

"i thought i heard you sneak in. is san here?" he asks and you nod your head as you step into the blue lingerie bottoms before putting the bra on. you look at yourself in the full-length mirror, turning to look at every part of you. "does this look good?"

hongjoong lets out a sigh before he's standing up and making his way over to you. his arm wrapping around your waist as he takes in your appearance. "you look beautiful," he says kissing your neck. he gives your ass a good pat before he walking back over to his desk.

"are you going to try and watch some of the stream?" you ask, making your way over to the door. hongjoong nods giving you a smile.

"of course, i'll do my best to pop in."

"okay! so usually seonghwa just sits here and kind of moderates chat. usually while i'm talking to chat, he'll jump in, but you don't have to if you don't want to," you tell san as you sit on the bed. you look at yourself in the monitor setup in front of you as you attempted to make sure you looked good. "do i look okay?" you ask, looking towards san.

"perfect," he says making you look away from him, a little flustered.

"you can go ahead and hit the button, san," you tell him shyly. he lets out a small chuckle before he's clicking the 'start stream' button and you watch as the stream starts and viewer start pouring in.

"hi guys!" you say, smile overtaking your face as you wave to the camera. the chat on the side of the screen being filled with your usual watchers greeting you. tips easily coming in. "i'm doing good tiger-star! hope you're doing well! ... oh! you like this piece, rubyred? i'm glad you like it, i've been wanting to wear it for a while!"

san watches you with a smile on his face. he takes in how natural you look interacting with your chat and... chatting with them.

"oh!" you say clapping your hands and earning san's attention, "seonghwa couldn't be here today... i know sunshine-sparkle, i'm sad too, but! we have a lovely person who agreed to cover for him tonight! ... no hotpants it is not patrick star," you deadpanned that last part making san chuckle. "sannie is here!" you say looking towards the male how leans forward just enough to stick his hand in front of the camera.

mega_yn_fan : holy shit THE choi san!!!

guylovescheese : FUCK! how much to see him fuck your pussy???

a_lexa_star22 : i would gladly pay to see that happen!

"do you think they want me to fuck you?" he teases making you let out a small laugh. suddenly, you see a rather large tip come in making you almost fall off the bed from how far you leaned over to look at it.

"holy shit! thank you wooenergizer for the three thousand dollar tip," you say, still not comprehending the sudden amount.

"oh, that's wooyoung!" san says, right before you read the message he also sent in with the tip.

"three thousand to see sannie finger you," you read out loud, feeling flustered by the message. wooyoung really had no self-control or filter.

san lets out a chuckle before he's standing up from his seat and crawling onto the bed next to you.

"if chat gets to ten thousand i'll fuck this pretty pussy," san says, spreading your legs to gently pat your clothed cunt. "sound good?" san adds before looking at you and you nod your head.

you let out a breathy moan, hips jerking forward as san fucks you hard and fast with his fingers. the wet sounds from your pussy mingling in with your moans, your manicured nails digging into san's thighs. he had removed his pants a while ago, leaving him in just his tank top and underwear. you feel his hard-on rubbing against your backside.

his other hand gropes your breast, your bra being pulled down to let your breast out. he pinches your nipples and gives it a good tug making you let out a whine at the feeling.

"s-sannie, please so-s-so good, fuck!" you say, tilting your head back to let it rest on san's shoulder. you could feel the tension rising within you, your orgasm coming soon. you attempted to close your legs but san didn't let you.

he pulls his fingers out of you and you whine at the empty feeling. san uses both his hands to spread your legs, throwing them over his own legs to keep them open. you moaned at how you could see your pussy on full display to for everyone watching. your pussy dripping with juices that run out of you and you can see it glistening under the lights.

you yelp, jumping and whole body bouncing when san suddenly gave your pussy a good smack before he's rubbing furious circles on your clit. "s-s-sa-san!"

"look at that, star girl, your chat got us to five thousand. that's halfway. should we switch it up?" he asks and you wonder who's he's talking to.

"hm... hungry2ho says they want you to sit on my face. i don't know hungry, do you think y/n's been a good girl enough to sit on my face?" san asks and you clench at the thought of sitting on san's face. he suddenly grabs your face, turning you to look at him. his eyes half-lidded as he meets your lustful and almost fucked out ones. "do you think you deserve to sit on my face?"

"p-ple-please san, i-i've been good! let me please," you're begging him now and san can't help the smirk that paints his lips.

"well~ since you asked so nicely, who am i to deny my pretty star girl," san says and you can feel your thighs tremble. "open your mouth," his voice is commanding and you do it without a second thought. you let out a loud moan as you watch san spit in your mouth, allowing it to run down your tongue and throat. "such a nasty girl. no wonder wooyoung is so fond of you, just like him," he says before moving to lay on his back, his bright red hair a heavy contrast to the cream-colored bedsheets.

"oh fuck– san, san! your tongue feels soooo good~" you say with a moan as you rock your hips back and forth. san had a tight gripped wrapped around your legs and waist as he kept you pinned down to mouth. his nose bumped against your clit, rubbing and stimulating it nicely as his tongue licked and fucked your pussy.

you glanced down, running your hand through his soft hair to see his eyes staring intensely at you. he stare honestly made your heart skip a beat as you felt his moans vibrate through you and shake your core. san kneaded the flesh of your ass before giving it a firm smack. the sound resonating through the room and you were sure anyone watching could have heard it.

wooenergizer : look at how you're falling apart on sannie's tongue 👅 can't wait to see you fall apart on his dick... again 🍆💦

you couldn't but let out a hearty laugh at wooyoung's comment before you see others in the chat agree with him. knowing wooyoung was still watching also made your heart skip a beat, because along with san, wooyoung had also been someone you admired within the industry.

"mmh~ san, fuck so good! i think i'm gonna cum!" you say, letting your head roll back a little as you grind your hips again, san's nose once again nudging at your clit.

"hold it, pretty star," san says, voice just as stern and intense as his eyes. you feel yourself clench when you notice the lower half of his face is glistening with your juices.

"sannie," you say, hand running through his hair as your other one runs over your body, feeling yourself and groping one of your breast. "please fuck me."

"i don't think your viewers want me to fuck you. you're still only at eight thousand," san says in a rather mocking tone.

"fuck– please, please let sannie fuck me! i need his cock so badly!" you beg looking at the camera and indirectly looking at your viewers. your eyes were pleading with them and hoping that your begging would convince them to continuing to tip you.

fuck, you felt like such a cock slut right now. but you couldn't deny how good san's cock was and how badly you wanted it.

and then it happened. you heard the familiar sound of being tipped and you immediately had to do a double take on it.

k.yeosang tipped $5,000.

your viewers must have seen the tip as well as the chat immediately exploded in excitement at the tip, knowing it was only a matter of time before they got to see you take san's dick.

"yeosang!" you say, chest warming when you realized it the male who had donated to you. "thank you so much! wow, you definitely didn't have to tip that much, but i really appreciate it!" you say, sliding off of san and letting him sit up so he could see the tip as well. he ran a hand down your back, noticing how your legs slightly trembled.

k.yeosang : make sure to invite me next time 😉

"i'll def keep in it mind, yeo," you say, not being able to stop the smile that overtakes you. you feel san pressing open mouthed on your neck and trailing down your back. you allow san to to move you so you're resting on your hands and knees, and you can't help the yelp that escapes you when you feel san gently bite your ass. you watch yourself and san through the monitor, feeling your excitement start to swell up as he removes his underwear and tossing them to the floor. you arch your ass, high into the air and gently sway it in an attempt to tempt san to move faster.

you moan as you see him pump his cock. the angry red tip, leaking with precum which his is using to lube himself. "s-sannie," you call out earning the male's attention. he smirks, running a hand through his hair before he's positioning himself at your entrance. you couldn't help the breathy moans that left you as san entered you. stretching you out, but sucking him in nonetheless.

"you sound like a bitch in heat, y/n," he laughs as he gently positions you, hands gripping your hips as he starts off with a harsh and fast pace. your mouth was fixed in a perfect o-shape, unable to close it and also so easily lost in pleasure that you couldn't make a sound.

having san fuck you was like a new experience, each and every time. of course it was mainly different because of the films you did together. each scenario being different enough from the last that it gave you a new experience each time.

and this time was no different. you couldn't help but shove your face into the sheets. wanting a moment to just feel san's cock abused your insides, yet the sudden sting to your scalp said otherwise. san held your hair harshly, gripping it to the point it was almost painful.

"don't hide your face, y/n, your viewers paid good money to see you get fucked by me. don't make them waste their money," san says as you feel him rest his body weight on top of you.

"i-i'm sorry!" you said, however who you were saying it to, you weren't sure. you felt tears start to brim your waterline, but thankful san let go of your hair in favor of using both his hands to prop himself up. the sound of skin slapping skin ringed in your ears. his cock rubbed against your walls, stretching you out over and over again and it made start to see small white stars in your vision.

"s-san! sansansan so-s-so fuuuucking good! ugh– please, please let me cum!" san presses a kiss between your shoulder blades before he's thrusting even harder. the tension in your stomach building up, waiting to snap and explode any moment now.

"fuck, i am too, my star. gonna let me cum inside you? give your viewers a good creampie?"

"yes! fuck, yes! fill me up!" you begged, you noticed your arms were now in front of you, hanging off the edge of the bed. you swear you feel a line drool run down your chin, but you arms feel so much like jelly that you don't have the energy to wipe it away. not that you care anyways.

then suddenly, you feel san pulling out and you feel your approaching orgasm quickly escaping you. you're about to scream, throw a fit before san is hoisting you up off your stomach on onto your knees. you are left slightly confused and dazed before san is entering you again. his arms hooking underneath yours to keep you up right. this new position allowing everyone to get a good few of san fucking your pussy.

"go ahead and cum," you hear him whisper and just like that, the coil snaps inside of you and your cumming with a loud and well... pornographic moan. san gives you a few more thrusts before he's sheathing himself deep inside of you and also cumming inside of you with a low groan.

you are out of breath, covered in a layer of sweat when san pulls out of you and quickly positions you on the bed. legs spread wide apart before he's getting off the bed. you watch him with dazed eyes as he picks the camera up – you want to complain about how he's ruined the perfect position you spent months working to find, but you don't have the energy to say anything. instead you watch him as he does a close up on your pussy which slowly begins to leak out his cum.

his fingers come to spread your pussy lips, showing off how much cum he truly stuff you with before he's scooping some up on his fingers. "fuck look at how well he's took him, such a good pussy," you hear him say at one point.

then san is panning the camera up to your fucked out face, his cum-covered finger easily slipping inside your open mouth. you have just enough energy to eagerly suck on his finger, tongue licking up his cum and cleaning his fingers. when he's sure your done, he removes them with a pop sound the rings around the room.

"tell your viewers bye," san says in a cheery tone making you smile at both him and the camera.

"bye-bye~" you say smiling, waving, and blowing several kisses to the camera that goes further away from you as san goes over to the computer to end the livestream.

san put the camera back on the tripod before he coming over to the bed. he pulls you more towards the edge of it by your ankles and you laugh at how easily he does it. his strength showing once again. he rubs circles onto you ankles before he's leaning over you.

"thank you, san," you say pressing a kiss to his cheek. you notice a faint pink dusting san's cheeks as he pulling away from you.

"of course," he says with a cough, "you know i enjoy spending time with you," he says adds on making butterflies swarm around your stomach.

"really?"

"really. now come on, let's get cleaned up and go bother hongjoong for food," san says with a smile as he helps you off the bed and begins walking you towards the door before he's stopping. turning to you before adding, "i would love to do this again soon. maybe even watch you and wooyoung have some fun."

"gosh, shut up and take me to the bathroom, you fool."

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Hey boo, I have a Regina fic request

Reader is a masc presenting girly and is pretty chill personality wise. They are openly out and just so happens to be friends with Janis. Reader gets a new haircut (cut off long hair to like a mullet that is just above the shoulder) Regina then starts to take notice of reader gaining a crush but she try’s hide it as Regina is still coming to terms with her sexuality and doesn’t know how to flirt with the reader. Reader finds it kind of cute that they make Regina flustered. Reader asks Regina out on a date. ( you can pick the date ☺️) it goes well and it ends up with reader being Regina’s first girl kiss and it’s a cute moment ( this all takes place after the movie) you can choose how it ends and if you want to add anything else please do. Love your writing and sorry if this request is long 😩

Totally up to you if you want to write it of course

Hope you’re having a good day/night ☺️

Longing for You

|| Regina George x masc!fem!reader

|| Warnings; takes place after movie, soft (trying) Regina, forward reader, i dont think there's any warnings but if I missed something lmk

|| Summary; Janis gives reader a haircut and Regina can't seem to pull herself away. Finally, reader confronts her about it.

Requests open!

Started; october 5th

Finished; october 6th

~~~

Janis was pretty much your best and only friend; next to Damian. The three of you were a trio and always have been, then Cady came along and joined the group. Drama happened but after everything the four of you got close again. Tonight was one of your sleepover nights, all of you were at Cady's. Janis was helping you with a haircut.

"You're gonna look great! Trust," She grinned, standing next to you in the bathroom while Damian and Cady watched nervously at a distance.

"I dunno if trusting Janis is the right call." Damian chimed in, his fingers fidgeting.

"How different can it be from arts and crafts?" Janis shrugged, looking entirely confident in her abilities to cut short hair.

"Oh, honey." Damian shook his head, certain that that wasn't how it worked.

"I'm closing my eyes," Cady murmured and covered her eyes with her hands, though she peeked a little between her fingers.

This conversation wasn't making you anymore confident in Janis, but you trusted your best friend not to ruin your hair. You'd been wanting this for a while, but it was an impulse decision to get it done tonight. With Janis no less.

The following day, you arrived at school with a new found self confidence. Feeling more yourself with your new haircut, much to everyone's surprise; Janis had nailed exactly what you wanted. Which she would never let any of you live down. Whenever someone gave you a compliment on your haircut and Janis happened to be nearby (and that was more often than not) she'd go," thanks! I did it" with a really sheepish smile.

Regina had been with the rest of the plastics, their day had been pretty relaxed. As were most days while Regina was in recovery. It was a slower process than she would have liked, but at least now she didn't have to have her corrective neck collar.

It was Lunch and the cafeteria was packed, as always. Gretchen was going on about some new tiktok trend, showing Karen and Regina everything about it and all the best videos (in her opinion). Regina wasn't listening. She had been trying at the start, she was getting really good at actually listening to her friends too. But someone had caught her eye across the cafeteria. She was sure she'd seen her before, Regina tried to remember the name. Then it clicked; that was Y/N L/N. Did she get a haircut? Must've gotten it recently.

Regina hadn't realized how lost in her thoughts she had gotten until Gretchen said her name, "Regina?"

The blonde blinked and forced herself to look away from your smile. She didn't understand why it was so hard for her to not keep trying to steal glances at you. Maybe it was just something about your new found confidence you seemed to almost radiate. "Huh?"

"You said we could post it on your account, can we like do the video now?" Gretchen asked carefully, trying to study Regina. Why was she acting so weird and spacey today?

"I had?" Regina didn't even realize she agreed, she must've at some point while she was daydreaming. Sometimes she does that, she'll just respond to Gretchen's rambles without even realizing what it was she agreed to in the first place. Makes her wonder what other things she'd accidentally agreed to.

"Mhm!" Gretchen smiled at her and Regina sighed, tossing her phone to her.

"Yeah, whatever." She muttered, her eyes going back to where you had been but you were already up and leaving with- Janis, Damian and Cady? Regina hadn't realized the four of you were friends. She felt a small flicker of guilt as she thought about Janis and Cady.

They were on mostly good terms now, but they were still in the healing phase of the aftermath. Regina knew that it would take time before everyone had fully forgiven each other. She knew now that they were all at fault, including herself. So she was trying to do better.

Throughout the week, Regina would take whatever chance she could to look at you and admire you from afar. She didn't know if you would let her talk to you, after everything she'd done to your friends.

When you came up to her she was shocked, to say the least.

"Alright, George. I've caught you staring at me like ten times this week. You longing for me or something?" You smirked, flirting a little with her to see where it would go; knowing full well it was a dangerous risk.

Regina seemed caught off guard by your forwardness, most people wouldn't even dare try with her like that. Not even now that she was trying to be better. Clearly, you weren't intimidated. If she wasn't mistaken, she would almost say you were amused by her.

At first, she lost her words and didn't know what to say. Then she remembered who she was.

"So what? Maybe I am. Gonna do something about it, L/N?" Regina replied back, curious to see if you would back down as she folded her arms. Her eyes watching you with intensity.

You didn't back down," This Friday, Skatz and Rollers. 5:30." A smirk tugged at your lips as you folded your own arms, mirroring her pose.

Skatz for Rollers? Regina thought about it; not a bad first date idea. Wasn't simple like the movies and had some thrill. Plus, it had been a while since she went roller skating.

Next thing Regina knew, it was Friday. 5:30. And she had just walked into Skatz and Rollers. Was she really here? Going on a date with you? She supposed she was. She sighed, internally scolding herself for being nervous.

Her eyes scanned the placed for any sign of you. When she didn't see you, she started doubting that maybe you wouldn't show up; but then she heard the door open behind her. Followed by a familiar voice.

"Regina!" She could practically hear your smile as she turned around, her shoulders relaxing. Why was she worried? She was Regina George after all. Only a fool wouldn't go on a date with her.

"Late to your own date?" Regina raised an eyebrow at you and your cheeks flushed.

"Hey, I was only a minute or so behind you. I wasn't that late." You defended yourself, she just playfully rolled her eyes.

"Come on, dork." Regina walked ahead to the check in spot, getting you guys situated. You followed after and tried to stop her from paying, cause you had wanted to, but you were slow." I've got it. This is pennies to my family."

Somehow, you always forget that she's rich," oh. Right." You murmured, feeling a little embarrassed. She found it amusing.

"If you really want to pay for something that bad, you can buy me food," She gave you a playful wink and you nodded. You'd happily get her whatever she wanted tonight.

Your date went smoothly, the two of you roller skated for a while then went and played in the arcade. Regina George was surprisingly good at arcade games; she beat you in nearly every one. Which was starting to get your spirits a little down but her being happy made it worth it.

Regina looked at you and laughed when she saw your defeated expression," oh come on, don't be such a Princess. If you stop pouting maybe I'll let you win one." She gave your cheek a little pat, the contact making them flush.

"You're awful," You replied with a sigh, though there was no real hate behind your words. If anything they were laced in love and affection, which Regina found incredibly amusing.

That's when you heard some commotion near one of the arcade games. At first, you didn't think much of it. Not until you heard- Janis? Oh crap.

You scanned the place until you found them and narrowed your eyes when you saw their "disguises". Clearly, they'd been spying on your date with Regina. You were surprised that even Cady was apart of it. You groaned and flipped them off, which got Regina's attention.

She looked at you with confusion before seeing who you were looking at, she tensed up. Had they been there the whole time? How much had they seen? Heard? "Why are they here?" She could feel herself getting defensive.

"No idea." You murmured, though you did. You knew they were keeping an eye on Regina but you didn't want to tell her that. Knowing that would only make the blonde more defensive.

"Hey! We can literally see you!" Regina called out, Janis and Damian scrambled and laughed while Cady looked bewildered and stood there for a moment. Before seeming to remember that she needed to follow them.

"Wait up!" Cady called as she ran after.

You took out your phone and texted the groupchat,

You; idiots.

Damian; it was Janis' idea!

You weren't even shocked by that. You figured it had been, sure Damian could come up with an idea like that... but Janis seemed more likely and Cady was just incapable of it.

Your attention shifted from your phone to Regina, giving her an apologetic look," I'm sorry about them, they're a bunch of idiots."

"It's.. fine." Regina replied, glancing at your phone and seeing the groupchat," can't really blame them for being cautious."

Before you knew it, the date was nearing its end as Regina dropped you off at home around 11:30pm. You'd spent a good few hours together and she even gave you her number at one point.

"Hey, Regina?" You asked, hand on the door handle of her jeep as you held it slightly open.

"Yeah?" Her eyes never left yours, not that she would ever admit it but; she didn't want you to leave.

"Can we do this again?" Your tone was hopeful, which she noticed and smirked. She knew she had you around her finger.

"Yeah, I'd like that." Regina nodded and you smiled at her as you went to leave, then paused.

"Almost forgot," You said and she looked confused, but that confusion melted when your lips met hers.

It was the first time she'd ever really kissed a girl and it felt so much different; but a good different. One she could get used to.

You parted the kiss and looked into her eyes," Goodnight, Regina."

"Goodnight, Y/N." Her tone was the softest you'd ever heard it. It caught you off guard for a moment but the smile never left your face as you headed into your home for the night.

~~~

I actually really love this fic and it's now one of my favs, so I hope y'all like it too

[rory-multifandom-mess]

I mentioned this au in the tags of a post like… Yesterday I think I don’t remember. Anyway.

In this AU, Thad’s universe had a bad ending, aka Solver managed to wipe out the whole universe.

Before the finale, Thad located this time machine thingy that looked like DD ships and taught himself to work it. During the finale, after Lizzy, Khan, and Nori died, Thad, V, N, and Uzi realized there was no winning. They started to flee toward the pod, fighting off solver; V gets killed on the way, but Uzi, N, and Thad make it to the pod. N and Uzi then realize that no one would make it out alive if they went with Thad. So while they were arguing, Uzi shoved her jacket and N’s hat logo at Thad, which shoved him in.

Thad stumbles back with a yelp, hitting his elbow on the emergency start button. The door slams and he panics, rushing forward and slamming his fists on the door, screaming and begging for them to come with him, to please don’t do this!

They turn back to him and smile. N starts to tear up. Uzi’s visor changes to text. “Survive. For us.” N’s visor also changes to text. “We’re sorry. And we’ll miss you.”

Thad begs, but the pod shakes, falling into his back as it takes off. He scrambles to his feet again, looking down at them.

He watches as Cynessa lunges at them and they’re consumed by dust. He sees oil splatter and heads fly. Yellow tendrils shoot out of the core of Copper 9 and at him. Moments before it reaches the pod, the pod enters hyperdrive, which knocks him out.

When he wakes up again, he tries to use the pod to go back to his universe, but it gives him an error message.

[[:Error: Universe Unavailable. We are sorry.]]

Yeah he’s not ok.

Anyway, all of that was 3 years ago. Here’s some extra info about the AU under the cut!

- He occasionally visits the og Universe, partly to rummage for scrap metal, partly to make sure it’s still healthy (if something bad happens to it, there goes the rest of the universes) and partly to hang with Uzi, V, and N. He physically cannot go near Lizzy because he will have a breakdown

- Hanging with the gang kind of hurts his heart but he’s coping it’s ok

- V and Uzi don’t fully trust him which also hurts but he fully understands it

- He taught himself a lot of skills like mechanics, engineering, coding, and some quantum physics, etc so he could repair himself and the pod

- Obviously, he goes around the universes saving others from total destruction like his, even if it does obstruct things. Moral dilemma pov u know how it is

- Oh also his upgrades make him 5’1

-=-=-=-=-=-

Here’s Uzi’s og design in the universe Thad is from

I was gonna draw V, Lizzy, and N’s lil design differences but i don’t have the motivation anymore, so I’ll write them.

TT! Thad’s OG Universe - SD-V

- Has the original red bandana/scarf from her concept art

- Permanent glasses

- Hair is longer, tied into a spikey bun

- “Fingerless gloves” on her normal drone hands

- Shorts, like the ones she wore in episode 4, except black and permanent

TT! Thad’s OG Universe - SD-N

- Back of hair looks more like a mullet cause it’s longer

- White T-shirt under jacket

- Gave the pilot hat logo to Uzi so she can put it on her beanie (i forgot to add that to her ref)

- Snaggleteeths

- Pilot “coat” thingy is slightly longer like a trench coat

TT! Thad’s OG Universe - Lizzy

- Instead of her hair all being up in a ponytail, she has a half up, half down look, and her ponytail isn’t as long. Medium length hair girlie

- Jacket that she wears off her shoulders so they rest around her elbows

- Streaks of pink in her hair

- Tights. don’t ask me how that works

- Obvious eyelashes added to her eyelights

- Not a physical change, but she’s slightly smarter than canon Lizzy. When she got Thad between Episodes 6 and 7, she gave him her hair ribbon, because she knew he is far more agile than she is. And she was right.

Uuuuh. Kay that’s it. send asks with questions if you have any. Yes you can draw stuff for this/draw the designs. I don’t have the motivation </3

[autisticlancemcclain]

part one

———

Lance keeps his word — it doesn’t take long for him to really get the hang of his telepathy thing, and then he really is in Keith’s head more often than he isn’t.

That’s not entirely fair, Keith supposes. He has a pretty good hang of the telepathy thing too, and Lance showed him early on how to put up a pretty thick mental block if he needs some privacy, or even just a break. He knows how to keep his mindscape quiet and personal, if need be.

But the thing is…he rarely bothers.

He likes having Lance in his head, or vice versa. It’s crazy, and he never would have expected it of himself, but having the constant presence of his best friend in the back of his head; talking, humming, or just being, has turned into a massive comfort.

The desperate loneliness he grew up with, although slowly disappearing over the years he’s had Voltron, has faded into almost nothingness. He likes Lance’s noise in his head. It makes communication during battle a lot easier, too.

He’s yet to feel the rest of the team as strongly in his head — he certainly can’t hold conversations with anyone else — but he feels as if the connection that has been constantly present since they formed Voltron for the first time is stronger, maybe. As if he feels a little closer to all his friends.

That’s really mushy, Lance informs him in his mind. You’re a massive softie marshmallow. I can’t believe I ever thought you were cool.

Keith sits up, abandoning his fourth set of push-ups to find Lance across the training room, doing some sort of gymnastic routine (blatantly showing off for some of the younger members of the Atlas. He’s not even trying to pretend he isn’t, smirking whenever they point at him and whisper to each other in awe when he does a quadruple in-air backflip or something that serves no actual training purpose).

Keith frowns at him. I am so cool.

Are not. You’re a squishy softie marshmallow that cries during Finding Nemo.

Everyone cries during Nemo! Keith defends huffily. It’s a heart-wrenching movie!

Lance doesn’t say anything back, but Keith can feel the impression of his laughter. It’s a hard thing to conceptualise, because he’s not really laughing, and there’s no sound of laughter even in his mindscape, but Keith feels the teasing joy bleeding from him. The best way he’s come to describe it, after weeks of trying to put words to the feeling as he falls asleep, is the feeling he gets when a joke lands, combined with the kind of raw freedom that comes with running in a dead sprint for no reason other than the pleasure of running. Something concentrated and all-encompassing and heart-turning. That’s what Lance’s laughter feels like.

And Keith won’t stand for it. It’s one thing for Lance to tease him with his words, poking fun at him with his wide, sparkling grin, but to make fun of Keith for the thoughts he’s thinking in his own head?

He will not lie down at the dishonour.

Grinning in anticipation, he scoops up his luxite blade, lining up the shot and throwing with deadly accuracy. The blade spins through the air, so fast it whistles, directly at Lance’s head. If he doesn’t dodge, it will kill him.

But Lance will dodge. He knew Keith was going to throw the blade before he even made the decision to throw it.

Gasps ripple through the training room, several people shouting in alarm as the blade comes closer and closer to killing the Red Paladin of Voltron. Milliseconds before it hits, just as someone opens their mouth to scream a warning, Lance moves, faster than the eye can track, pulling out his bayard and transforming it in the same moment, batting Keith’s blade out of the air with his broadsword like it’s a baseball.

He grins, wide and manic and jumping to the challenge, to the spar.

“That all you got, Mullet?” he calls, swinging his blade like the cocky shithead he is. Keith can hear the impression of his laughter again; he’s dizzy with it, drunk off the heady feeling.

“Not even a little bit,” he says, activating his own bayard. Without needing to say a word, they both charge forward at the same time, arms drawn back and swords heavy with potential energy, meeting in the middle of the training room with a clash of their blades, so hard it sends vibrations up their arms.

The shouts of alarm from the rest of the crew turn into whoops of excitement, as people fan out into a circle to give them space. Keith is relatively certain he sees Pidge and Matt organizing bets out of the corner of his eye.

Ready for a show? Lance’s voice echoes in his head. Distantly, he hears Red’s howling roar, the proud lion wrapping her energy with her paladin, gleefully telling Keith how much she looks forward to seeing her cub wipe the floor with him.

She is a very competitive entity, Red. It sparks something in Black, too, who gets up from her perch in a rare display of headstrong pride and wraps her energy around Keith to match.

You’re going to lose, Keith taunts.

Fat chance, Mullet.

Their strikes are less choreographed, now that a real challenge has been issued, and more than their own pride is at stake. There is no real fight here — whether or not Keith wins, he doesn’t truly care.

(But he’d fuckin’ love having something to hold over Lance’s head for a bit. Better if he could be smug in Lance’s head, where he can’t stomp away with a sulk and a claim that Keith was cheating.)

Swordplay with Lance is difficult. It’s always difficult, because Lance uses a sword in every way except how a sword is meant to be used — Keith has seen him use it as a javelin, a bat, even a vault stick — but it’s only gotten harder since Lance has had access to his mind, because Lance hears and feels his every move, anticipating his every trick. Neither of them have managed to win the upper hand for long, and it won’t be long before the other resorts to dirty tactics.

Keith eyes his forgotten luxite blade. He might be the first, actually.

Forcing himself to think of a flurry of random things, practically throwing a wad of unconnected, unsorted thoughts in Lance’s presence in his head to distract him, he dives to the side, reaching for his blade. Lance realises a split second too late to stop him, and his broadsword comes millimetres away from the skin of Keith’s ribcage as he dodges. He closes his fingers around the softened leather of the blade’s handle, and whips around to face his opponent, bayard in his right hand and luxite blade in his left. By the time he’s ready again to fight, even though he’s only taken mere seconds to grab his weapon, Lance has already flipped several meters back, bayard in his hand transformed to his blaster.

Cheater, the both think at the same time, identical smirks on their faces.

Lance fires six quick shots, aiming at vital places in his body. His shots are all true — Lance doesn’t miss — and Keith barely manages to slide out of the way, one of the laser blasts grazing the side of his neck, burning him.

Lance hasn’t bothered to set his gun to stun. Keith can’t blame him. It’s more fun with the risk.

He rushes at Lance, both swords extended, aiming a slash at the Cuban’s arm with one blade and a stab through his torso with the other — he’ll only be able to dodge one. He’ll either have to yield or take a slice, get a painful hit that will slow him down.

Somehow, though, Lance contorts himself, bending his body in a way that it honestly should not be able to bend and narrowly avoiding both blades, hitting the floor with a heavy slam and aiming a sweeping kick for Keith’s knees to take him down with him. Keith jumps to avoid his powerful legs, somersaulting over his head.

“Oh, boo!” someone, who is most definitely Shiro, calls from the crew. Keith almost forgot they were watching, he’s so caught up in the fight. “Come on, Lance! Get his ass!”

If Keith had the time — that is if Lance let up his assault for even one second, which Keith knows he won’t — he’d roll his eyes. Since he doesn’t, he settles for making a mental note to raid Shiro’s room later and steal the last of the Reese’s he packed from Earth.

Oh, that’s diabolical, Lance thinks at him.

Keith grunts, swiping at the hand holding his blaster. If you help me I’ll give you half.

The offer startles a laugh out of Lance, distracting him for just long enough that Keith gains the split-second advantage, placing the blade of his bayard under Lance’s wrist and twisting until Lance is forced to drop his gun or lose his hand.

“Fuck!” several people yell at the same time. Next comes the unmistakable sound of money changing hands.

“Sucks to suck”, Keith taunts, because he can’t help himself.

But Lance looks undeterred. “It does, doesn’t it.” He aims a heavy kick right for Keith’s sternum, and since Keith is too close to move away and not flexible enough to dodge, it lands square where Lance aims it, the heel of his foot knocking the breath from Keith’s lungs and blurring his vision. He drops his swords when the sudden lack of oxygen makes his hands to weak to grip them.

Lance takes advantage of Keith’s momentary weakness, catapulting forward for an assault. Unfortunately for him, his intentions bleed loud and clear through their bond, and Keith hits the floor with a gasp so Lance can’t wrap his legs around Keith’s neck to choke him out.

Lance curses, falling forward with a flail when his assault doesn’t hit, momentum completely overshot. He barely manages to catch himself before his head smacks into Keith’s, and for half a second he stays there, hovering above where Keith lays flat and tense, ready for the next move.

You come here often? Lance teases, and it’s genuinely such a horrible line that Keith groans out loud. They tussle on the ground for several moments, each trying to gain the upper hand, but it’s literally impossible — neither of them is particularly stronger than the other, so there’s no advantage there, and not only are they completely matched, stroke for stroke, punch for punch, but every move they try is completely anticipated by the other. There’s no way that Keith can win. He can try to spend the next who knows how long exhausting Lance, but they’ve already been training for a while — they’re both tired as all hell. And as much as Keith kind of likes Lance’s hands on him, he can’t forget that there are people watching. He has a reputation.

Truce? he offers.

Yeah, Lance concedes, sighing melodramatically. I suppose I’ll let you call a draw.

Keith rolls his eyes as hard as he can — leave it to Lance to be such a goober about it, even though Keith can literally feel that he wants to call it as much as Keith does.

At the exact same time, they spring apart, setting some space in between them to catch their breaths. Once they’ve had a minute to recover, Lance stands, stepping over to Keith and offering his hand. Keith takes it, pulling himself up.

All the gathered crew groans out loud.

“Another draw?” one of the MFE pilots mutters.

“At least they’re wicked cool to watch,” her friend says.

Keith would be able to feel how much Lance preens at that even if they werent telekinetically bonded.

In minutes most of the crew has dispersed, no longer interested now that there isn’t a fight to watch. Some of them go back to whatever equipment they were training on earlier, but many of them file out of the training room entirely, moving onto other things. Keith and Lance make their way over to the rest of the team, collapsing down to the floor next to them.

“You guys are super duper lame,” Pidge informs them, offering them both a water pouch. Keith takes his gratefully, not bothering with the straw and tearing off the top, chugging them whole thing down in one go. Allura looks at him in mild disgust, which makes Keith grin, because if he’s being entirely, one hundred percent honest, he really only did that to get a rise out of her because he knows she hates it when he does that.

“You’re a liar,” Lance responds, sipping on his juice pouch much slower than Keith does. “We just provided you with what was essentially a full-stakes WWE fight, except Keith and I are both way cooler than any of those losers and there were weapons involved.”

“Weapons, but no drama,” Hunk argues. “You guys barely even spoke to each other. Just fight, fight, fight. Where’s the fun in that? Where’s the nuance?”

“I didn’t hear you clown Keith even one time,” Shiro adds, because he’s safely out of range of Keith’s pinching fingers. “Two out of ten Keith and Lance fight. I’m disappointed.”

Keith snorts. “Oh, he clowned me plenty.”

The second the words exit his mouth, he feels Lance go rigid beside him, and a sense of panic comes through their bond.

Shut the fuck up shut the fuck up shut the fuck up, Lance tells him desperately.

Keith looks at him strangely, but Lance doesn’t provide any more context, looking at a particular spot on the floor as if it’s endlessly fascinating.

“He did?” Coran asks. He looks at Keith with a mix of intrigue and something he can’t place, something almost knowing. “I heard nothing of the sort.”

“Well, you wouldn’t hear it, per se,” Keith says slowly.

Lance screams unintelligibly in his head. Keith gets a distinctive picture of him in his own mindscape, yelling in anguish, as the Red Lion laughs herself to tears beside him.

What is your problem? Keith tries to ask, but mind-Lance ignores him in favour of his misery.

Pidge narrows her eyes at the two of them. “Clarify yourself immediately.”

“The mind bond?” Keith says, voice turning up at the end of the sentence like it’s a question. “You know, that Lance worked on with Red. So that we could communicate with each other using our existing emotional bonds with Voltron, just a couple steps farther. I know you guys haven’t used it much, but I just figured you weren’t into it.”

Silence.

Heavy, disbelieving silence. Each other member of the team looks at Keith with dropped jaws and wide eyes, like what Keith just said is something out of a science fiction novel rather than something they all should have been able to do for weeks, since that meeting with Iverson.

Keith suddenly gets the very distinct feeling that he has, perhaps, fucked up.

“Yeah, no shit,” Lance says, a little hysterically. His face is so red that he rivals his own lion. Keith can actually feel the heat pouring off of him, and the feeling from the bond is worse — Lance is dripping with mortification. “How am I in your fucking head and you still can’t follow my instructions?!”

“You didn’t tell me it was supposed to be a secret!” Keith defends, rapidly going red himself.

He can scarcely believe what is happening right now. Lance has told him that the point of the bond was to make the whole team get closer, but he’d only ever bothered to build something with Keith.

The whole time, from the very beginning, his goal was to share his deepest thoughts and feelings with Keith, no one else.

Oh, God.

“Oh, God,” Shiro repeats, but his tone is vastly different from the way Keith was thinking it. His expression can only be described as evilly and maniacally delighted, like every horrible hope of his has come true at once. “This is the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

“Oh my God,” Lance says, the third person to say it. His face is buried in his hands, body half-curled up, like if he compresses himself small enough he can disappear into nothing.

“So that’s why it’s like you two share one half a braincell!” Hunk exclaims. “You actually do!”

Pidge and Allura crack up at Hunk’s joke, or maybe it’s Lance they’re laughing at. Either way, Keith feels his head spin.

Lance has literally manipulated the quintessence of Voltron specifically and only so he can talk to Keith in his own brain, communicate the emotions he doesn’t have the words for.

Manipulated. The quintessence of the universe’s greatest and most mysterious weapon. To find more ways to talk to Keith.

Keith is generally kind of a dense person, but he’s sure as shit not that dense.

“Hey,” he says, shifting away from the rest of his team that has rapidly lost their minds and is laughing themselves hoarse, placing a hand on Lance’s shoulder. “Look at me.”

I am going to kill you dead, Lance threatens in his mind, too embarrassed to make his mouth work.

No, you’re not, Keith replies, and pulls Lance’s hands away from his face, yanking him close and finally pressing their lips together, no longer waiting for some obscure and future proof that Lance loves him. It’s obvious, with the way he softens, melts into Keith’s hands, and the way something warm and soft and floaty flows through their bond.

Lance changed reality for him.

His love could not be more clear.

[meli-writes]

Bitch-Princess of Toronto

“Cute, right?” Tamsin grins. She gestures to the small, pale mess curled up on the sidewalk couch with her — into her — the 6-foot, mullet-topped werewolf draping her own leather jacket over it to keep it warm. “Got the Bitch-Princess of Toronto purring in my lap.”

“I don’t purr,” the mess purrs back, echoing off the motor-repair shop’s walls, with an idle flash of fang catching Ezra’s eye.

“You want me to use the word ‘snore?’” Tamsin asks, irritatingly casual about it all.

Because Ezra, well they have been watching those fangs every day this week, waiting to see if the little caught vampire is gonna try anything; keeping her leashed in silver chains, some regular mechanic’s ones too, to one of the steel columns while the pack-elder fucks off to debate what to do with her. Ezra’s been looking into things themself — the usual rumours of vampires prodding into their territory, making sure it’s no-one who belongs to the Prince — because this one hasn’t been much in the way of forthcoming.

And in the two days they've left Tamsin in charge, she's got the bitch on a dog leash.

Ezra exhales, pulling at their septum ring and breathing the stress back in. “That’s the part you take issue with.” Not looking at Tamsin — but the vampire. The silent perfection with which she seems to not even notice Ezra is a screeching brake rotor in their head.

“Still only responds to what she wants to,” Tamsin uselessly informs them, flat-toned with a barely hidden smile that also says, but i’m what she wants.

And what does her owner want? The Prince, Ezra doesn’t say aloud.

“Why is she in your lap?” they manage to ask.

“I don’t know,” Tamsin says. “We were chattin’ and I felt bad about leaving her chained to the post.” She rolls her shoulders back, stretching, and pulls a massive, thrice-bitten arm up to ruffle at the vampire’s ruby-red hair. “She’s so warm after feeding.”

“You did what!?” Ezra shouts, their hands convulsing in an electric gesture of sheer-fucking-disbelief before managing to clamp them into fists on their temples. “Tam! If Lucerne comes back from the Eldermoot and sees this-leashed-bitch and that-shit-on-your-arm she’ll fucking kill us both!”

“I don’t know,” Tamsin offers in a smug-salted, doubtful smile, “seemed a whole lot less messy than feeding out of the bowl — and she’s been so good. Two taps when she needs me to pull her off, ‘cos she struggles to herself. Very polite.”

Just to annoy Ezra even worse, she gestures it out — Tap! Tap! — on her arm.

“You think she's imprinted on me?”

“So she’s a stray cat now?” Ezra says, knowing in an instant that Tam is going to—

“Ohh, she’s such a good kitten. Ain’t that right, Red?”

Not much more escapes the pile of leather and frizzy, red hair than low, pleased grumble and the soft scrape of blood-full cheeks rubbing into Tamsin’s half-dressed chest.

Ezra’s hands run from temple-sides down their cheeks, like a squished bagpipe dragging out the last few thimblefuls of air, “I guess. If it helps.”

They’re not able to think of what else could even keep ‘Red’ on her leash, nothing short of the brute-strength that seems futile on a now barely-restrained, blood-full vampire. Marde. She’s one of the Prince’s fledglings too.

But if it is, at this point, all about what ‘Red’ is choosing to do, maybe Ezra can—

“Can I— pet her?”

Tamsin’s eyes lock to her, face still for a few contemplate moments, and then— well, she kind of nod-shrugs.

It’s when Ezra has reached a wrench’s length away that ‘Red’ finally does ‘notice’ them, stirring from her wretched repose to swipe at them; Ezra has to stumble back, falling ass-backward onto the stacked-tire coffee table.

Nothing got scratched, but Ezra can definitely feel their ego bleeding; looking at Tamsin who should be pinning the bitch to the floor, snarling, fur sprouting from claw-to-delt, and is instead pissing herself laughing.

“Don’t think she’s imprinted on you,” she adds, and Ezra is sure the vicious fang-bitch is smiling herself. Probably didn’t scratch me ‘cos she didn’t need to — with Tam playing pet-mom to her. “Gotta let her feed on your first.”

“Oh-ho-ho! Ha! Ha-ha! No chance,” Ezra mutters, twisting their swiped-at wrist in the other hand to soothe the emotional agony of it. “Tam — what if she tries draining you and uses that strength to escape?” 

It’s a perfectly sensible question; one that should point out what a bad idea this is; one that not even Himbo Tamsin should be able to—

“Don’t want to,” interrupts ‘Red,’ boredom effusing into Tamsin’s tits.

“What?” Ezra asks.

…

“Ugh!” they squeal, throwing their arms up in the air. “Tamsin, can you ask her—”

Tamsin merely coos at the fucking beast, rubs one of its dumb cheeks and, “you like it when I keep you, don’t you kitty?”

“Mhmm,” she replies, like once-again Tamsin is the only other person in the room. Ridicule! 

But it crawls into them then, why doesn’t she want to.

“Also,” the vampire adds, as if listening to Ezra’s thoughts more than their words, “the Prince’s current truce is a lie. Doubtless I’m no longer his favourite too, if he’s not bothered to take me back from you guys.”

There’s a roll of Ezra’s eyes that hurts more than an unplanned, full-moon turning, “Oh my god! Then we’ve been hiding a worthless hostage this entire time.”

“I don’t know,” ‘Red’ tells them. “Seemed obvious to me.”

“And you never told us!” Ezra moans, glancing up to Tamsin who’s pathetically infatuated with the attention-whore clamped around her like a bench vice. “So what, nowhere to run now? We would’ve let you off leash at least. The silver one, not this shit.”

“Seems kinda hot to be honest,” ‘Red’ says, and Tamsin hums in satisfied, deferential agreement.

When Ezra stares her down she shrugs, “What? I was comfortable,” and seems to want to send a message back, “Scared a little, okay. And I’m patient. Wanted to see what happened, because again, if he wanted me, a truce — fake-or-not — wouldn’t stop him; and he knows I’m here, for sure.”

There’s a wince now, but she doesn’t stop, “I don’t feel him but— ugh, I’m sure he feels me. Even this far from his ivory tower. Wasn’t really my choice to be there y’know, or any of his ‘princesses.’”

Ezra wishes they were the one borrowing Tam’s jacket, just to hide in it.

Silver chains and a bowl. Next to a mattress you needed Tamsin to find a blanket for. What an asshole, a wonder she doesn’t listen.

Practical feels the best way forward, “So what now? You gonna tell us about some secret attack or plan or whatever it is?”

After a moment they realise, and look to— “Tamsin?”

Tamsin’s got a hand under the girl’s borrowed shirt; fingers nipping at the trim fat, forehead rocking into the top of her head. “You know this sounds awfully dangerous, kitten,” she chimes. “You don’t want the Prince to hurt me, do you? There’d be way less cuddles then.”

‘Red’ takes a moment to weigh the bargain.“Mmm, sure. But I want dinner first.”

---

(Masterpost)

[foone]

I'm on that atemporal HRT. No, I'm not doing the "change your sex before you were even born" kind (like in One Hundred And One Magical Pistols) , I still want to be definitely and visibly trans. But I'm taking the kind that means it applies to every moment of my life since puberty.

So while it still takes the same amount of time for my body to transition, each time I take a dose, I've retroactively always looked like how I do now, transition-wise.

I was a little trickier but I arranged to have the same happen with my hair removal and hair dye. I go look at old family photos, and there's foone at age 4, and she's got purple hair. The pictures of foone at age 25, working her first job? She's got a partial beard, because the spots I've had electrolysis never grew in.

I haven't been able to figure out haircuts though. I still had short hair back in the 90s, and a mullet in the 80s. I'll keep experimenting, until I can always have been long-haired, instead of just since my first death.

[earthtoharlow]

Faux Love

This was supposed to be easy, right? Pretending to be in love with my best friend, just to satisfy our families’ constant nagging about us getting together. After all, we know each other inside out, every quirk, every flaw. We could easily slip into the roles of a couple without missing a beat.

But as we share knowing glances and laugh at each other’s jokes, I realize that our friendship has always been the foundation of something deeper. It’s as though the love was already there, quietly simmering beneath the surface, waiting for the perfect moment to reveal itself….

“Hi, can I get a venti, half-caff, non-fat, extra-hot, caramel macchiato with three pumps of vanilla syrup, please?” Jean asked, pulling out her wallet for some cash.

“Name?” The man behind the counter asked.

“Jean Louise.” She replied, handing him her cash.

He shook his head at her before nodding behind her. “It’s already been taken care of.”

She followed his line of…head nodding and saw the gentleman who paid for her drink. The man was tall, hair was cut into a mullet. A curly one at that. He wasn’t looking her way but the way he was smirking and pretending to flip through a magazine, confirmed he was the one who paid for the drink.

“Hi, I’m Jack.” He said, extending his hand for her to shake as she stood by the counter to wait for her drink.

Jean ignored his hand and began texting on her phone. She responded without looking up at him. “Jack? That’s kind of boring, don’t you think”

Jack grinned, feeling a surge of confidence at her comment. “Actually, it’s short for Jackman,” he corrected her with a playful tone.

“Jackman? Now that’s more interesting,” Jean replied, a hint of amusement in her voice.

“So, Jean Louise… would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” Jack drawled, Kentucky accent coming out full force.

Jean stared at him for a moment, really taking him in. She first noticed his lazy eye that she couldn’t help but find endearing. He stood in front of her nervously running a hand through his interesting looking curly mullet. He was attractive, very attractive.

“The hottest tea we have for Jack!” The man behind the counter yelled out.

Jean couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow as he grabbed his tea and took a small sip. Jack smirked before holding the tea out, offering some to her.

“No, thank you.” Jean laughed, pushing his hand away.

“What time should I pick you up tonight?” He asked with a big smile as he leaned against the counter.

That damned smile.

“A very complicated order for Jean Louise!” The man behind the counter yelled out.

“Ok, Jackman.” Jean said, grabbing her drink and a napkin. “If you can find out where I live, then you can take me out at 7pm. Thanks for the drink!”

Was Jean being kinda rude? Probably but she was nowhere near ready to be in a relationship. And she wasn't a big fan of one night stands. She was 26 for crying out loud! She was done with that. Jack was very attractive though…

***

It was around 6:30 when Jean heard her buzzer go off by the front door, she sighed as she had just sat down on her couch, getting ready to rewatch Gossip Girl for the 20th time.

“Yes?” She called out pressing the button.

“Uh, it’s Jack!”

“Jack who?”

“Man? Jackman, I mean. I know I’m a little early but I gave myself extra time just in case I got lost. I’ve actually been driving around since 6:15 but I didn’t want to seem like a weirdo for arriving so early.” He rambled against the speakers.

“How the hell did you find my location?!”

“You were in such a rush to leave that you left your wallet at the cafe, so being a good samaritan I opened it to find your address and return it. Also, are you going to let me in? It’s starting to rain.”

Jean was too shocked to do anything but buzz him in. She then ran down the hall to her bedroom to find something to wear.

She wanted something that said “I’m not a whore, but I’m not a virgin either.” Not that she planned on having sex with Jack. She was actually going to tell him that they should just be friends, after enjoying this free meal.

She threw on a little black dress, because you can never go wrong with that. And began quickly applying on makeup so that she looked alive.

Jean ignored the knock on the door, Jack could wait a few more minutes. It wasn’t until she heard thunder that she decided to go open the door.

When she opened the door, Jack stood there with that damned smile holding out her wallet for her to grab. Jean grabbed her wallet before walking back to her closet to find some heels to wear.

“So, where are you taking me? I’m starving!”

***

As Jean sat across from Jack at a private bistro, she couldn’t help the feeling of skepticism creeping into her mind. Jack was charming, and everything was going too well. He was different, refreshingly so. She felt more comfortable with Jack than she had with any guy before. Jack seemed to genuinely care about what she had to say. It was weird.

“So, your name?” Jack questioned as he offered Jean a helping of his pasta. Jean opened her mouth and let him feed her.

“Yeah, my mom was really big into literature. Her favorite book is To Kill a Mockingbird. My brother's name is Radley.” Jean explained tracing a finger around her glass.

“I love that, hm I’ve never met a Scout before.”

“Well, Jackman. I can guarantee I’ll be your favorite.”

With each passing moment, Jean found herself slowly lowering her guard, allowing herself to enjoy the conversation and appreciate Jack's genuine interest in getting to know her.

After spending the rest of the night talking, Jack dropped Jean back home, walking her to the front door. What shocked Jean the most was that he didn’t lean in for a kiss or ask to come inside. He just said goodnight with a hug.

Maybe she judged Jack Harlow too soon. Of course she knew who he was. He might as well be the mayor of Kentucky. He was nice and seemed like a genuinely good person.

It was a shame she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend right now.

***

AN: New Series!!!! Let me know your thoughts 💋

[asheurbanipal]

If I have your wife, then kill me and eat me whole

on A03

<<Previous Episode : Next Episode>>

Summary:

As Logan and Wade move out of their honeymoon phase, more complex relationship issues emerge. For Wade, it's a surge of jealousy. A jealousy that Logan is doing everything in his power not to reflect back, reigning in its destructive power. It takes a harrowing encounter with a bolt cutter to get them on the same page.

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: 7044

One-shot in series

Content: angst, oral, jealousy, violence, mild torture. kidnapping

Should have gone to the gay bar. Those vibes look immaculate over there.

Wade laid his hands loosely around a chipped highball glass and a bottle of the shittiest beer imaginable, the bar dark against his back. He ran through the last few days, double checking everything off the list.

Day one: recon. No issue. Their security was garbage. 

Day two: copy the data. Easy. Just slap that bitch on a flashdrive. 

Day three: flash drive delivery to a drop location but not before making a copy to pass off to the X-Men. Not that the client knew about that part. 

Day four: attacked by a group of ninja? Samurai? Some kind of a fighting force all in black with a weird overtone of anti-Asian stereotyping. They were clearly pissed off about the whole "stealing information" thing, and he and Logan kind of accidentally killed them all before finding out the details. 

Oops.

And not even any hand-written letters laying out revenge plans to scavenge from a corpse.

In order to do mercenary work while still upholding the moral standards of the X-Men, Logan had a set of rules and compromises to follow if he was going to join Wade on a job. No politics. Nothing that harmed a pro-mutant organization. Nothing that got in the way of scientific progress (that was a special request from Hank). The X-Men got a copy of any data obtained during corporate espionage. They may not need it, at the moment, but knowledge was power. 

And as few corpses as possible with the ideal number being zero. 

Oops, again.

I'll take the heat on that one with Mr. Lazer and Wheels. 

If Logan slipped up too much on a mission or let Wade get too far afield, they might lose access to the little cottage on the edge of the mansion property. Xavier, at some point, had conceived of a version of the school that was a little more…general? Something like that? And that meant non-mutant teachers, maybe? Wade was still unclear on the reasoning, just that it meant there were little two-room cabins scattered at the far extents of the grounds. These had been offered as a place for him and Logan to live as long as they behaved.

It had been very hard to behave. 

They had been able to get a drop-off from the Blackbird on its way to whatever business, but they had to drive back over the next two days. They had taken off right after dealing with the vaguely racist commandos, so they were still dressed in their suits from the neck down. Logan needed a "goddamn drink" before they settled in for the night at the nearby shit-fuck motel. The only place that would take cash and not ask questions. No credit cards when someone was on your ass. 

And Logan had pulled him into this place. Dark. Depressing. Okay, yeah, maybe perfect, honestly. Wade slammed back a swig from his bottle, then rolled it along its bottom edge. 

A body dropped onto the barstool next to him. Wade gave the guy half a glance but didn't linger. He didn't look like someone out to kill him. Not a recognizable antagonist. Kind of weird that he sat right there, but then people were allowed to be weird in a perfectly mundane fashion. 

Still…

He flicked a knife on the inside of his wrist and waited for shit to get stupid. 

"You here alone?" the fucking weirdo asked. This time Wade actually looked at him. Big guy, soft and jowly, trucker cap on backwards, greasy with a sort of mullet thing happening. Patchy, gross-ass goatee. Just a real mess of a man. 

"No, here with my boyfriend. But he's taking a piss." Wade tapped the edge of the glass of Wild Turkey that he was guarding for Logan. 

"Boyfriend?" Gross-dude took a swig of his Coors Lite. 

"Yeah. He's The Wolverine. The X-Man Wolverine."

"I'm sure he is." They guy leaned in, moving his body into Wade's space. 

"No, I mean that literally. And he will kick your ass." Wade flexed his wrist, tipping his knife into place. 

Gross-dude dropped his hand from the bar then started sliding it across Wade's thigh. 

"Maybe you give my little wolverine a try?"

Oh that is the dumbest fucking thing I've ever heard.

Wade twitched the knife. He saw the image in his head, blade through the man's hand into his thigh. His reaction would be worth the pain and annoyance of repairing his suit.

Then out of the corner of his eye, the bathroom door opened. 

Oh no let Logan do it. That'll be hilarious. 

#####

What an absolute nightmare of a job. 

And now some asshole had his hand on Wade's thigh. He knew that was Deadpool, right? That he was about twenty seconds away from massive amounts of pain? 

But Wade wasn't doing anything. PTSD reaction? Freeze response?

No, Wade was fucking with him, probably. Some kind of weird goof. Better to step in before the guy got knocked down and didn't wake up again. He moved across the room to Wade's other side, slid a thumb through a loop on the back of Wade's suit, and plucked the worst bourbon he'd ever had up from the ring of Wade's arms.

"Hey, babe, are we ready to go soon?" They hadn't opened a tab, paying in cash, so they could just leave if this was going to be a problem.

"Yeah, I was just talking to my new friend." Wade's eyes narrowed at him in annoyance. Logan glanced down to see the man's hand slowly retreating. He had gotten the message. They were good to go. The man started backing away, hands up. 

But Wade kept looking at him. Then back at Logan. Then back at the man as he moved away. Then back at Logan. There was something there, like he was attempting to communicate without words. He could barely communicate with his words, so this wasn't effective. 

"Really?" Wade finally said.

"What?" Logan took another sip of his drink. 

"Fucking…fine." 

The mad had made it back to his group of friends. Wade broke from Logan's light hook on his suit and took two steps to close the gap. With a single downward motion, he slammed one of his wrist knives into the guy's shoulder. Nothing vital, but something that would hurt like a sonofabitch going in and coming out. The guy spun around, falling back against the hightop behind him.

"It was a joke!" he gasped. "Hundred bucks for whoever pretended to hit on you."

"Oh. So you have to pretend? Not hot enough for a truck-stop impulse buy Billy Ray Cyrus?" 

Logan hooked his arm under Wade's. There was a stack of cash on the table; the payout for the bet. He snatched it and tucked it into his belt. 

"Payment for me not letting him kick your asses," Logan growled. "Wade, let's go." He dragged him across the room.

"Consent motherfuckers!" Wade barked as Logan managed to wrestle him through the door. They stumbled out onto the sidewalk, something saccharine and poppy but tantalizingly addictive drifting from the neon-colored club across the road. 

Their motel was right down the street, a planned walking distance. 

"You good?" Logan asked, wrapping his arm around Wade's waist. He pulled away. 

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" he whined. 

"With me ? What's wrong with you ?" 

But Wade just huffed, taking off into the darkness. 

It was going to be one of those nights. 

"Like I just love how you see a man flirting with me, and you don't do anything."

There it was. It was two in the morning and Wade had been laying there next to him in their shitty motel bed, fuming silently. Logan had drifted into a very light sleep, but knew this was coming. He pressed his palms to his eyes and sat up a little, bed complaining under his weight.  

"He wasn't actually flirting with you."

"You didn't know that when you came out of the bathroom. I didn't even know that. You just saw a guy with his hand on my thigh, and you didn't do anything." 

Logan took a few deep breaths. Wade always worked from an internal logic. He just had to figure out what it was. 

"I came over. I put my hand on you. Acted intimidatingly. He left without a fight." He tried to be measured without sounding condescending or sarcastic. They couldn't both be bad at this, and he was trying so hard. "What else would you have liked me to do?"

"Stab him in the face."

"I'm not going to go straight to stabbing if I can de-escalate. We de-escalated….until you stabbed him, I guess. We talked about this. Stab first and ask questions later is something I'm trying to move away from."

"No, okay. I get the little code of ethics and anger management routine you're stuck on. That's not the problem." Wade lifted his hands, gesticulating in the dark.

"Was there something I didn't see? Were you in danger that I didn't notice?"

"No! He was just some asshole." He was getting madder and madder, but this line of questioning was working. He was narrowing in on the actual problem. And even under the anger he could hear Wade forcing himself to work out his issue verbally. As frustrated as he was, he was still managing to peel away layers. 

"Then I don't understand. What did you want me to do?" 

"I wanted you to be mad!" 

"I was upset." 

"No!" He shot up in bed. "I want you to be so mad that a guy is touching me that you inflict massive bodily harm." 

Logically, that wasn't going to happen. Yeah, he had sliced and diced for lesser things, but he was actively trying to not do that, now. Trying to rein it in. Create some fucking longevity instead of being ready to go out guns blazing at the next given opportunity. 

But, holy fuck, maybe he actually saw what Wade was upset about. 

"You want me to be jealous of other people showing you attention."

"Yes! Yes oh my god! Yes! Thank you. What is the point of having a super hot X-Men boyfriend with metal for fingers if he doesn't use them to scare other men away?" 

"Is it just men?"

"What?"

"What if a woman hits on you?"

And that short-circuited him, body-slumping over to think.

"Okay, come on, lay back down." Logan opened his arms, and Wade crawled in obediently. He was a creature of habit if nothing else. "We'll talk about it more in the morning." 

Wade nodded against his chest. He would either forget about it completely, or this was going to last for a week. Only the next day would tell. 

#####

"Jelly bean, buy me this shirt."

"Why?"

"Because you love me."

"Well, yes. Obviously." Logan's hand found a place in the small of Wade's back as he leaned in for a closer look at the display through the window. "But you have literally a dozen shirts with that fucking cat on it. You don't need another one." 

"Yeah, but this one has Kuromi." Wade swung around the archway into the store and made for the t-shirt wall, hoodie up, one hand in his pocket, the other around his drink. He didn't actually want anything. They had only stopped at the mall to grab some food and shake this black van that had been following them the past hour. Dragging The Wolverine into Hot Topic was just the top five funniest things of all time. He looked ridiculous in work boots and tight Levi's and t-shirt stretching taught over his chest

fucking stop it you're in public

I'm gonna tear that ass up later, though. 

Logan was better at compartmentalizing his horniness and letting it all out at once in an appropriate place. Maybe that was part of the issue.

Because the bar thing was still needling at him. 

They had resolved it last night. Logan understood why he was upset. He, in fact, went out of his way to try to understand why Wade was upset. That therapy shit was working. Maybe he ought to start going again. Because goddamn they were killing this whole communication business. 

He watched Logan sip his fountain drink and gently flick through the metal grate of earrings. Logan pulled one off the display. 

"You think Laura would like these?" he asked, showing them to Wade around the side of the grate. They were little bloody daggers that dangled, so yeah probably. One problem.

"They're one hundred percent her vibe, but her ears aren't pierced." Wade sipped on his bubble tea loudly. Logan stared at the earring card. 

"They aren't?"

Wade leaned in to speak in a low voice. Fuck if he wasn't going to occasionally practice a modicum of decency in public. 

"Remember when we were talking about dick piercings?"

"Right, healing factor." He slid the earrings back. 

"That is some excellent fathering, right there."

"Shut the fuck up."

"If your daughter can't get piercings, you can order clip-on converters online." The girl came out of nowhere, anime shirt and baggy jeans and oh my god was scene hair coming back? She was with a small group, maybe seventeen or eighteen years old. 

And all of them were staring at Logan as they milled around the store. Hungry eyes. Undressing him in their minds. He knew that look because he did it all the time. Only he was allowed to do it. These girls…these minors… weren't.

The rage was hotter than he expected. Like… a lot. Like if he had his guns on him, there would be a non-zero chance of brain and blood splatter across the Nightmare Before Christmas display.

"Shit. Okay." Logan pulled the earrings right back down then grabbed a few more sets, a variety of skulls and other cutesy depictions of deadly weaponry. "Did you actually want that t-shirt, babe?"

"No, I was just fuckin' with ya, honey bunny." The girls looked between them, taking in the implication of the exchange. Good. 

Yeah, I get it. I look like a hairless cat in drag. But I'm the one that pulled that hottie. That ass belongs to me. That mouth? Around my dick. Conversations about our deepest fears and lingering traumas? Yeah, I'm the one he has those with. 

That last one was the sexiest. 

"Wade?" Logan was at the door, already checked out and shoving his wallet back into his jeans. 

"Coming!" Wade shuffled back out through the door, glancing around the edge of his hood at the nearest girl. 

Coming for me TONIGHT more like. 

fuck, chill out, Wade

"You were giving that girl in there the evil eye," Logan said quietly, knocking his body against Wade's. 

"She was making eyes at my boyfriend." Wade slipped his arm into Logan's forcefully. Logan chuckled. 

"I think they were just being friendly. They saw a useless old man and tried to help."

"You cannot be this fucking dense, you immaculate asshole." 

"I…okay…I'm flattered you think teen girls would be into me, but you might be a little biased." 

"I'm certainly bi about that ass."

"That was a really bad one."

"They can't all be winners." Wade sucked down the last of his drink and tossed it in the trash as they passed. Logan reached over to do the same, and kissed Wade on the cheek in the process. 

"Does it make you mad to think of other people being attracted to me?" Logan asked, fishing.

"Absolutely livid. If I so much as think about someone looking at you with a lustful gaze, it's like…flames…shooting…off the side of my face. And I think about it all the time. When we're out in public I just know that people are looking at you then looking at me and being like 'oh, the bar is in hell, I guess.' But I'm sensible enough to know this level of obsession isn't normal, so I haven't stabbed anyone. Yet."

"Hm, okay." Logan's voice settled into a cadence of contemplation. 

no no no that makes me feel icky inside

"'Hm, okay' what? I don't like it when you think inside thoughts."

"I'm allowed to have those."

"Not around me you aren't." 

"Jesus fuck, Wade. Okay." He moved them into a side hallway that led down to the bathrooms and other backside navigation. "I didn't understand why you were upset last night because I don't think the same way you do. I don't get mad about people hitting on you. I don't even really think about it. It's not something I worry about at all. So-"

"Why don't you think about it?" Wade shoved his hands in his pockets. There was that sick feeling. The one that lurked in the back of his head. That this was all temporary. A happiness that he wasn't allowed to have. 

"That's what I'm getting to-" 

"You don't think I'm attractive enough? That other people wouldn't look at me like that?"

"Wade-"

"I mean I get that I look like a piebald moose testicle-"

"Please don't do that-" 

"-but to actually hear it from you." 

Logan slapped his hands around Wade's shoulders. 

"Wade, I-"  Wade didn't hear the other side of the statement, his vision going suddenly black. 

#####

Wade crumpled in front of him, and he only just managed to catch him as he fell. 

The people in the black van had found them, but where the fuck were they? There were too many people here. He couldn't get a scent on them. No sound. 

Something sharp bit into his neck and he slapped at it. Tiny blow dart. His vision swam, but it would take more than that to bring him down, the healing factor working immediately to purge it. Another one caught him in the middle of his back. Where the fuck was it coming from? He scrabbled along his own spine, trying to pry the dart out while still holding Wade against him. This one had more of a punch, and the sway started overtaking him. 

No. 

This was a bullshit way to go out. 

He hit his knee, bringing Wade down with him. 

"Wade…wake up. Fucking heal already." But then he felt his body fumble and fall into blackness. 

"They're waking up. Dose them again."

"These motherfuckers are heavy."

Ropes around the wrist and knees. Laying in the back of a van. Moving down the highway fast. Another bite on the ankle and the world faded again. 

"Hey, pookie bear, wake up." Something bonked lightly into the back of his skull. 

"Fuck." He startled back into consciousness. They were tied up back to back on chairs in a dark, nondescript room. "Oh this is stupid as fuck. Are these the people we stole the data from?"

"Probably," Wade said idly. There was a one-way window to his left, and he looked at Wade in the reflection. He was slumped a little but alert. 

 Logan tested how he had been tied to the chair. It was tight. Something stronger than it looked. Any old asshole could get adamantium and vibranium and all that shit, anymore. He flung out a claw, but the angle was wrong to do a direct cut. Together they should be fine to get out, though. Wade had a dozen knives on him at any given moment. 

"Alright. What's our plan?" Logan asked. 

"What do you mean you don't worry about people hitting on me?"

"Are we really doing this, right now?"

"We've got time!" 

"Gentlemen. You're awake." A nondescript man dressed in black sauntered in through a gray metal door. A pair of bolt cutters were slung over his arm. This was one of those kinds of sessions.

"Can this wait?" Wade asked with a pout. "We were in the middle of a relationship altering conversation."

This gave the man a bit of a pause, but he kept moving slowly, circling around to Wade. 

"Now, I recognize some professionals when I see them. So I'll cut to it quickly." He tapped the bolt cutter to Wade's hand. "Who sent you to steal from me?" He poised the cutter over Wade's pinky. 

"Bruh," Wade tsked. "I don't fucking know. Logie, my question."

"Wade, honey. Please pay attention to what's happening, right now." Logan wriggled their lashed together chairs. 

"Oh what's he gonna do, take a finger?" 

And he did, the cutter moving through Wade's pinky with a crack and squish. Wade jerked with the pain, but moved right back into the conversation. 

"I need an answer, Logan."

"Christ," Logan muttered. "No you're not conventionally attractive. Okay? So realistically I wouldn't expect you to get hit on by randos compared to, I don't know, fuckin' Ryan Reynolds."

"AHA! I THOUGHT SO!" The chairs jumped with his movement. 

"But that's not the point, goddamnit. I think you're hot as fuck, and that's all that should matter. I'm the only attention you should care about."

"Oh. Hm." Wade rocked their chairs a little. 

"Okay, as adorable as this is, I still have my own questions." Bolt cutter guy positioned the thing over Wade's next finger. "Who are you working for?."

"Your mother," Wade replied. "She hired me after I was done blowing her back out then providing appropriate after care."

The sound of the crunch on his next finger got lost under Wade's next complaint.

"So you wouldn't be mad if someone tried to pick me up in a bar?"

"No…not really...Because you're going home with me, in the end." 

"I really need an answer to my questions, so let me remind you," bolt-cutter said. 

CRUNCH. 

"Okay, that one fucking hurt a little," Wade said then turned back to the window to look at Logan in the reflection. "So you just…don't care? You don't care if some drunk dude slides his hands down my pants." 

"I don't understand what's happening here," bolt cutter guy said. 

CrUncH?

"I know that if some drunk guy slides his hands down your pants, he's not going home with a hand, Wade. If he goes home at all. So, yeah, I'll be mad that you had to go through something like that, and take revenge as needed, but I know you'll fucking deal with it. You're supposed to be the one I don't have to worry about." He hadn't said it out loud. It felt like too much pressure to put on the relationship. But now things were getting dire. 

cr-u-n-ch

"What the fuck does that mean?" Wade tried spinning, but he was stopped by the strapping on the chair. 

"I swear to God…" Bolt cutter guy started moving away, but Logan was too focused on Wade in the reflection to keep tracking him. 

"Everyone I love dies. Or gets converted to sapient space dust. Or didn't actually exist because the memory was implanted by some asshole. You just lost five fingers and still have the energy to bitch at me. I don't have to worry if my claws come out at the wrong time around you. If anything, you like it."

"I do. I'll admit that."

"I don't have to worry about you 24/7. I don't have to constantly think about how I'm going to protect you or if I can rescue you in time if a merc job goes wrong. Because you can take care of yourself. I can just breathe and focus on just being a person. Being a couple. Because I know you're going to come home at the end of the day."

"Maybe I want to be saved, sometimes." Wade squirmed in the chair, trying to get his face around to Logan's shoulder. "Maybe I don't want to have to take care of myself and let someone else do it. Maybe I'm also tired of having to protect everyone that I Iove all the time from goddamn mystical, world-ending bullshit. It's literally the reason I came and got you. To help me. So that I wouldn't have to do it alone. Maybe I don't want to have to carry that weight all the time either. It's too heavy."

"Fuck," Logan sighed. "You're right. I get what you're saying. Let's take some time after this to work it out."

"Maybe you stab a barista that smiles at me too long."

"We'll circle back to that." 

"You people are fucking insane." They both jumped, briefly forgetting  bolt cutter guy was there. "But I still need my answers. So maybe I switch gears." He moved from Wade to Logan, and tapped the circle of blade to Logan's hand. 

"Oh, no, those little piggies are mine, " growled Wade.

With the disgusting crunch of a dislocated shoulder and elbow, Wade managed to wriggle out of the bindings around his arms. 

"Could you do that the whole time?" Logan asked. 

"We were having a conversation," Wade replied. 

Loose from the bindings, he had enough space to pull the knife from the hidden space in the pocket of his hoodie and swing it hard into the side of bolt cutter guy. These idiots hadn't fully patted him down. Rookie mistake. 

The bolt cutter guy had thought this would go his way. He didn't have a backup plan beyond screaming about the knife now in his pancreas, swinging the cutter around in a panic. This left  plenty of time for Wade to reach down and break the chair legs free of the base. This didn't release the bindings around his ankles, but he could walk. He snapped his joints back into place with a series of cracks. 

"Who the fuck are you people?" Bolt-cutter backed up against the wall. 

"You really don't know? Holy shit." Wade pulled the knife free. With the force of that he lost his grip on the bolt-cutters. 

Wade sliced down through the bindings keeping Logan to the chair. 

"I'm Deadpool, and that's the goddamn Wolverine."

The bolt cutter guy reared back to swing the cutters, aiming for Wade's head with the rest of his strength.

Logan was as fast as Wade, ripping free from the chair, claws coming out in the time he crossed the room. A single movement up through his ribs, and bolt cutter guy dropped like a rock. They stared down at him, both covered in splatters of his blood.

"How much do you actually want to fight your way out of here?" Logan sighed. 

"My swords and guns are in the car, so it won't be nearly as fun." Wade leaned against the wall, wiping his knife on his hoodie. 

"Thinking the same thing." Logan moved toward the one-way window. Someone had to be on the other side. He tapped on the glass with the tip of his claw. "You got ten minutes, and we're busting through that door. We will be leaving. You decide what that looks like. This is the chance you get to go home to your kids tonight." 

Wade sidled up to him, slipping his arms around Logan's waist.

"I've…uh…I've lost a little more blood than I realized." 

Logan went to the bottom of his shirt and ripped strips away. 

"Give them here," Logan said. "Wrap your hand while I see where your fingers got to." He wandered back to the chair, searching the floor. 

"You don't have to do that, chicken tender." 

"It's faster, right? And they're all right here." Logan scooped them up from the floor. "Pretty clear cut. What fucking brand are these?" Logan also grabbed the bolt cutters, throwing them over his shoulder. "See if this brand makes hedge clippers." He held the fingers out to Wade. 

"Why the fuck are you thinking about hedge clippers, right now?" 

"The bush in front of the main window is too tall." 

Wade held the first of the fingers in place, waiting for it to attach. 

"I thought the kids on landscape duty took care of that." 

"They just run the riding mower. We do the hedges and edging. Well, I do. You haven't done shit."

"Ohh, when I get all these fingers back on we should do some edging." Wade bit his bottom lip as he worked on the next finger. 

"Hilarious." 

"Wait, who put in the dog-run for Puppins? I assumed that was one of the kids." He had made it through all his fingers but didn't dare stretch them, yet. 

"That was me. Laura helped."

"Oh…thank you. That was nice." Wade pecked Logan on the cheek.

"Those fuckin' zoomies…" But Logan didn't know what the rest of that sentence looked like and just sort of vaguely mimicked the act of running with his fingers. The crackle of a speaker came from somewhere above them, and a voice blared out. 

"Okay, you might talk a big game, but if you think you're getting out of here-BLACHT" 

The voice through the speaker cut off violently with a wet, choking sound. Splatty and gross. Wade jumped against Logan with surprise at the scream, clutching Logan's chest with his still healing hands. 

"Oh. Wait. It's the X-Men." Wade set his head against Logan's shoulder. "No big deal." Wade knocked on the  window. "We're in here, you sexy little spandex aficionados." Logan slapped his hand from the window.

"It could also be someone more annoying to deal with, and we just lost our escape window."

"Oh, no, it's totally them. I have a microtransponder in my shoe that I set off when I woke up here. These people did not pat us down well, at all." 

"You have a transponder…in your shoe…"

"Mhm. They don't want to lose you as an asset, so if you come with me on a job, I have to wear it. But I also wasn't supposed to tell you. Oops." 

"How long were you awake before me?" Logan canted his head toward Wade, pieces coming together now that the tranquilizer was working its way out completely. 

"A while. Ran my mouth at them so they'd torture me first. Figured I hold out longer than you. Also…you know…Don't like other people putting sharp things in you."

"Wade," Logan sighed. The bolt on the door cachunked , and Logan spun, claws clicking out. 

"Hallo! Please don't kill me." A furry blue hand slipped out the gap between the door and the wall and wiggled its fingers.

"Kurt, holy shit." The door swung open and Logan met Nightcrawler across the room. They shared a quick hug. "You haven't been at the mansion." 

"Business to attend to." He leaned around Logan. "Good to properly meet you Wade. Bad circumstances." Logan turned. Wade had gone a bit slackjawed, thinking. He snapped back, grinning.

"Let's get the fuck out of here, huh?"

#####

I didn't like it. I didn't like him hugging the little blue man. 

Wade, what the fuck is wrong with you? He's known them longer than you. 

I guess technically not, because it's not actually the same Nightcrawler. But conceptually he has. Fucking hate this multiverse shit. 

Just need to get my hands on him to feel better.

Get my fingers in his flesh.

The Blackbird might have swooped in to save them, but the team wasn't actually done with whatever weird little diplomatic mission they were on. Wade had been told that if he left the plane he would suffer dire consequences. Logan could join them if he wanted.

He didn't.

Suck my dick, X-Men. Logan keeps choosing me. 

Why am I in goddamn competition with the entire X-Men?

"Wade, you stopped talking." They were in the cargo hold. Logan was doing arms and ammunition inventory. Wade was cleaning the rifles. It was something to keep them busy. 

"You always tell me to shut up."

Logan turned sharply. 

"Then I won't do that anymore. I don't actually like it when you're quiet for too long. It means you're upset about something." Logan moved across the cargo hold and dropped in front of him on the floor. 

Wade put the rifle parts he was cleaning back in the bag and shoved them to the side. He opened his arms and that was the cue for Logan to crawl into his lap. He rolled forward over his knees and nestled his head into the pillow of Wade's crossed legs. Wade ran his fingers through Logan's bangs and combed them up over his crown. 

"I'm still thinking about the bar thing and the torture chamber stuff. I'm not mad, though." Wade waved his hands a little to shake off that presumption. "Just trying to sort myself and why I felt the way I did. And I'm not quite there, yet. I'll get it together, eventually." 

"I'm not stabbing any baristas."

"Just a little pokey poke if her hand lingers on mine and we share an unexpected moment?"

"I'll compromise by severing the ACL of the next waiter who laughs at your jokes just to get a bigger tip."

"Oh wait. No let them flirt for, like, one minute. Then crck. " He gestured across his throat with the back of his thumb. Logan chuckled, then his eyes flicked in thought. 

"To be perfectly clear, I'm not actually going to do that. However, I will have a bigger reaction to you getting hit on, and I will include minor threats of violence if they're being handsy. If that's something that makes you feel good about yourself." 

"Eh. I don't know why I'm making such a big deal about flirting in a bar, anyway. Not like it's a regular occurrence. Mach speed blobfish isn't exactly a look that gets a lot of play."

"Hey." Logan reached up and poked him hard in the cheeks. "What have I told you about insulting my boyfriend?" 

"Self-deprecation is the foundation of my comedic genius, sugar bean. Take that from me, and I lose half my material." 

He's so pretty like this. Deep, creased laugh lines. Little crinkle between his eyebrows. Long nose. 

Wade ran his hands down Logan's jaw. Then he leaned down and kissed him upside down. 

Spiderman style.

Wade pulled back just enough to talk. 

"I don't actually need or even want you to protect me. You clearly need me to protect you, though." 

"Oh, what makes you say that?" Logan reached up to peck him on the lips.

"I'm the one with a radio in my shoe."

"That they forced you to wear."

"That I was clever enough to actually wear when they told me to instead of…not…doing that…" Wade ran his hands down Logan's chest, studying the place where he'd reattached his fingers only a few hours before. There was still a thin line as the flesh continued to knit itself together. He sat back up a little, drawing his hands back to Logan's temples. 

"So neither of us want to carry the weight of the world," Wade said with a drifting hum. "But we worked together on that TimeSplitter motherfucker, and we saved all of reality." Logan curled his hand over the top of Wade's.

"And we did it holding hands." Logan brought Wade's hand to his lips and kissed his palm.

"Fucking gross. When did we get this disgustingly cute?" 

Logan lifted his hands to catch the sides of Wade's head. 

"I've always been cute, you just had to catch up." He pulled Wade down to kiss him. He broke the kiss too soon, and Wade was about to complain before Logan turned over on his knees. He moved Wade's legs to part around him.  

Oh ?

Logan hooked his thumb around the zipper of Wade's jeans and drew it down. 

Yep.

His lips pressed to Wade's bulge through his boxers. He nosed open the fly and brought Wade's cock into his mouth, tongue running small circles over the tip. Wade wove his fingers through Logan's hair, locking into place, steadying himself against Logan's rhythm.

Logan Logan Logan

The refrain started up like it always did, a rattle that snaked around his brain and wiped everything else away. When Logan was touching him, he stopped thinking. He just was . He just existed as body and sensation. As nerve endings and neurochemicals.

Words that were already stupid became more senseless, that part of his brain going on autopilot.  

"Take me deeper, daddy." 

God, why the fuck did I say that?

Logan obliged, though, pushing into him until Wade's cock was brushing the back of his throat. His fingers went tighter in Logan's half-curls..  

Sweet baby Jesus, this man is going to kill me. 

#####

Wade's dick was rough, calloused like the rest of his skin. He loved it. Every time he put his mouth on Wade in some form or fashion, he fell a little more in love. In love with Wade's body. His form. In love with the pulse and beat of breath underneath.

Every time Wade talked, even when he spiraled out into nonsense, Logan found himself falling a little farther down into him. It was becoming harder and harder to imagine the version of himself that had hated him. That grew rabid with rage at his voice. 

Now? He wanted to devour him. He had spent so many years suppressing his rage just for it to explode and destroy everything at the exact wrong moment. He'd spent every moment since then trying to prevent something like that from ever happening again. Even if it didn't mean anything. Even if it didn't matter. And he'd almost done it. He'd packed every emotion away into the deepest part of himself and drowned it so he'd never have to feel anything. 

Then this motherfucker opened everything up again. And it became a tumult, emotions crashing over each other. 

He tucked his hands up under Wade's shirt, pressing his thumbs into Wade's stomach as he took him deeper. All the way to the back of his throat. The friction of his jeans on his own erection was bringing him to a mini-climax as he ground on Wade's shin. 

It rose like an ember, tensing his hands. Wade moved one hand out of his hair to touch his knuckles. 

"Let the claws out if you want, peanut. No organs, please."

The double sensation of Wade in his mouth and the dry, half-orgasm was enough to overwhelm him after the day so far, and he lost control of himself before he could change his hand shape. The claws came out his palms, instead, digging into Wade's lovehandles.

It hurt like fuck, but Wade's shiver underneath him was worth it. 

#####

And he might as well kill me now, because I'm already in heaven.

He clenched around the blades in his side, trying to focus on both the pinpricks of pain and the center of pleasure rising in his pelvis, wallowing in the combined rush of dopamine and endorphins. 

There was the tiniest puff of sound somewhere toward the front of the jet. Through his haze of ecstasy, Wade found a way to focus his attention in that general direction. 

Kurt.

He had realized what was happening mid pulling a bag down from the rack and froze. Wade lifted a finger to his lips and gestured violently with a throw of his head for him to leave. At the same time, Logan took a particularly long drag on him, drawing an absolutely unearthly sound out of Wade's body. 

Kurt puffed out of existence.

That'll learn ya. 

Fuck. Shit. Logan Logan

Distraction gone, his brain started shutting down again. 

Logan Logan Logan

"Logan," he whispered, the sound barely forming around his lips. Logan pulled away, and Wade almost cried. Logan looked up at him through his lashes, keeping his lips barely half an inch away from the tip of Wade's cock.  

"If you're going to say my name, say it properly instead of so quietly you think I can't hear you." He kissed the head. "Because I always do. Every time." He took him in again.

"Logan," Wade moaned. The moan turned to a whine as his stomach and pelvis went alight, his toes curling his shoes, tension breaking around his body. He came hard in Logan's mouth, pulling his face against his body until Logan's nose was touching where his pubic hair used to be.

He released his hands with a hard sigh and gasp, falling back against one of the bulkheads. Logan pulled back, cum and spit creating a bridge between Wade's cock and Logan's lips. He lifted up, pressing those messy lips to Wade's 

"I need to do you," Wade panted into Logan's mouth.

"I'm fine," Logan said. 

"Did you come in your pants, ground bear?" Wade grinned. 

"No," Logan said, but there was a shade of embarrassment. 

He totally did.

There was a clanging knock on the access hatch on the side into the cargo hold. Storm's voice followed. 

"Entering the ship!" 

"Good timing," Logan said, zipping up Wade's pants. "Imagine if they were just a few minutes earlier."

"Hahahah yeah."

Oops.

#####

Logan stood on the back porch, shirtless, letting Puppins out for her last romp of the night. The cherry red of his cigar burned out against the night sky and the glow of the mansion up the lawn. 

No smoking indoors, and Wade didn't really like the smell. So he'd reduced the frequency considerably. The booze, too. He hadn't felt the need to drink nearly as often, but it was never going away completely. After the last few days, for example, a high quality scotch and a cigar did just the trick. 

His phone buzzed on the side table, and he picked it up. It was Kurt. All Logan read was the word " Entschuldige"  before his phone blew up with text messages from everyone on the team. 

"Babe," he called back into the house. "Are emojis the same in this timeline?" 

Wade drifted into the open doorway in just boxers and his off-brand Barbie hoodie that was printed off-center. 

"What the fuck are you talking about, happy feet?"

Logan held up his phone to give him a better look. 

"I just got a whole lot of text messages, but they're all just an eggplant, a knife, and a plane. I don't know what that means."

Wade's nostrils flared. 

"Oh, I have another little German man to kill."

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part five ]

[ part one ] & [ part two ] & [ part three ] & [ part four ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: fluff, sfw, a bit of suggestive talk

word count: 2029

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

the serene atmosphere of your sunlit bedroom was suddenly disturbed as you jolted up in bed with a gasp.

heart racing and head spinning, you sat there, stunned.

was it … just a dream?

your brow furrowed as you looked up and around the familiar space. there was your bookshelf, your desk, your chair … oh.

you rubbed your eyes to do a double take at your chair. sure enough, atop it laid the two-piece outfit you had worn out with stanley last night.

slowly, a wide grin spread across your face. as you began to get out of bed and prepare yourself for the day, memories came back to you one by one.

let’s see, then … when we got back here, we had that conversation in the car. i remember being really sleepy, and kind of stumbling into the inn.

you wandered into your bathroom, splashing your face with cold water.

then, we parted ways. he practically skipped away to his room.

the faucet ran as you laughed softly to yourself. a certain warmth filled your chest, spreading throughout your body: an uncontrollable joy.

who would’ve guessed? me, in love … i’m so happy.

suddenly, everything was peaches, unicorns, and rainbows. you felt as if the butterflies in your stomach were throwing a wild dance party, and all the world was invited. ecstatic, you danced around your room, putting on day clothes and taking extra care as you groomed yourself. yes, this called for three extra spritzes of your favorite fragrance. absolutely, it required your nicest jewelry. after all, you were on a serotonin high, and you never wanted to come down—the person that you love loves you back!

as you made your way out into the hallway, a part of you was tempted to slide down the staircase like mary poppins, but you quickly decided against it as you recalled your lack of magical gravity-altering powers. instead, you settled for a regular-paced descent, walking down both sets of stairs until you came out into the lobby.

you waved to one of your employees at the front desk. “good morning!”

“ah, good morning, boss. you sound cheery today. did something good happen?”

“wellll, yeahhh, you could say that …” you beamed, covering your mouth like a child with an innocent secret.

the worker laughed, shaking his head. “i won’t pry, although i do have a guess as to what it is. you’re all set to take your shift, by the way.” he walked out from the desk, and you took his place, watching as he disappeared to go on break.

just then, a hand touched your shoulder.

“boo.”

you jumped, whipping around to the source of the voice. a smug stanley stood beside you, laughing at the reaction he’d managed from you.

“haha! hey, don’t be scared, toots. ‘s just me.” he winked, giving you a small squeeze before letting his arm fall down to his side. “ya look cute t’day.”

“you look pretty nice yourself.” you hummed, giving him a quick once-over. that earned a small blush from stan, who stammered as he attempted to think of a comeback.

“oh—oh yeah? well you—uh … ahh, i got nothin’.” he grinned sheepishly, pleasantly surprised at the way you were matching his energy.

at that moment, the little entrance bell rung as the front door swung open. a new guest had entered the building. recognizing this, stan took his cue to back away and let you do your job.

the stranger approached the front desk, and you offered him a smile. “welcome to the inn! just a room for one today?”

the stranger, who appeared to be tall and blond, stared at you with piercing blue eyes. “yes … that was the plan. but i must say, you’re a charming little doll. you might just make it a room for two.”

you were taken aback. “sir—”

“hey, can you blame me? i’m in town for a tour, and i’m awfully bored … why don’t you humor me?”

*SLAM*

stanley’s rough hand hit the desk surface with force as he positioned himself between the stranger and yourself.

“you got a problem?”

his threatening words rumbled lowly, striking through the air like thunder.

“what’s it to you, lowlife raccoon? do you really think you’re scaring anyone with that attitude?”

the bulkier man growled, his eye twitching. “you wanna take this outside, punk?”

“yes, let’s. i’d hate for your little crush here to watch you get hurt.”

immediately, alarm bells went off in your head. “wait, what—”

stan began to walk towards the back door with the troublemaker. shooting a glance back at you, he mouthed ‘don’t worry’ before closing the door behind him. of course, that only made you worry twice as much.

a part of you longed to follow them and make sure nothing bad happened, but you knew that you couldn’t just abandon the desk during your shift. an anxious breath escaped from your lips as you craned your neck to try and see if you could catch a glance of them through the window.

mere seconds later, there was a distant crash. you startled, quickly running over to the back door and opening it to look for the two men. much to your relief, stanley came walking back over to you from around the corner, completely unscathed.

“guy ran off all scared after i knocked his tooth out. said sumthin’ about his ‘career being ruined’. tch, what a wuss.” he rolled his eyes, sliding his arm around your waist and walking you back towards the front desk. “sorry he said that stuff to ya. i took care of it, though, yeah?”

you flushed a shade of red at his arm around you and his close proximity. “y–yes. thank you, stan.”

the brunet puffed up with pride. “anytime, angel. if somebody tries anything like that again, y’ come get me. i’ll take care of you.”

looking this way and that, he leaned in and planted a soft kiss on your cheek before grabbing his car keys and walking towards the front door. “i gotta thing to do. see ya later, gator.”

you stood frozen in place, processing what had just happened. explosions were going off in your brain, and stan chuckled to himself as he left the inn.

some time passed, and it was finally your lunch break. you’d been thoroughly distracted all morning by the way stanley had been acting towards you.

he’s so … clingy. ugh, i miss him already.

his hair is so pretty … and his eyes … and that stubble …

you were slowly being pulled into daydream land—but the rumbling of your stomach snapped you out of it.

“urgh. time to eat.” you mumbled to yourself, making your way to your room. there were some leftovers in the fridge that were practically calling your name.

after retrieving the box of food and a clean fork, you turned around to return to the lobby, but stopped in your tracks upon seeing someone standing in the doorway.

“heya, toots!” stan beamed, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. “yer never gonna believe what just happened.”

this was the most excited and happy you’d ever seen him. intrigued, you set down your leftovers on the table, giving him your full attention. “what is it?”

“i just landed a security guard gig for the theater down the street. they figured out i could throw a punch or two, an’ offered to pay me full-time to keep troublemakers away from their shows!”

your eyes widened as you realized what this meant. “then … that means …”

“i can stick around n’ actually have a chance at making the green i need!” grinning, he threw his arms around you. “i’ll stop takin’ up space here, n’ get a place for us—i mean, me—i mean—”

you laughed, squeezing him tightly and resting your head on his shoulder. “stan, i am so proud of you!”

hearing those words did something inside of him. his whole body tensed, then relaxed, overwhelmed with emotion. “you … you are?”

“of course! i love you too much to feel any other way, y’know.”

tears stung at his vision, and he hastily rubbed them away with his sleeve. “... heh, thank you.”

stepping back to look him in the eye, you rested both hands on top of his shoulders. “when you first got here … i could tell how unhappy you were. i hated seeing you like that.” you moved one hand to brush some hair out of his face. “and now look at you. you’ve come so far.”

stan melted into your touch, leaning his face into the palm of your hand without thinking. “yeah, i … i guess i have come a ways, huh?” he sighed, a tender smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “honestly, you were the one who caused it. ‘f it weren’t for all your help, i … i’d prob’ly be in an even darker place than i was before.” turning his head, he kissed the inside of your palm. “thank you.”

you blushed, your whole body warm with happiness, gratitude, and excitement. “well, i couldn’t just ignore you.” you pulled him into another embrace, unable to wipe the smile off your face. “stanley, you’ve captivated me, mind, heart, and soul.”

he hummed lowly, pushing your hair back to press another kiss to your forehead. “you did the same thing to me. i … just can’t stop thinkin’ about you.” he pulled his head back to gaze at you lovingly. “... ‘bout how lucky i got to find you.. my angel.”

“i love you.”

“heh– not more than i do, toots.”

“no proof.”

you were just inches away from a second-ever kiss when a knock on the door rudely interrupted, causing the two of you to jump away from each other and stare as it began to open.

“oh sh–” stan slapped his hand over his mouth, diving behind the sofa to hide. all you could do was stand there as normally as you possibly could, pretending like nothing important had been previously happening.

“uh … was there someone else in here, too?”

it was your coworker from earlier that day.

“NOPE! nobody. just me. why would you think that?”

he narrowed his eyes. “right … you know it’s your property, it’s okay if there was someone.” shaking his head, he remembered his initial purpose. “anyway, i just wanted to come find you to see if you wanted to go out to lunch with me and liz.”

“oh. well, uh …”

“... it would also be a nice opportunity to tell us about any … juicy secrets?”

you snickered, shaking your head fondly. “well, fine. i’ll tag along, then—with a plus one.”

“I KNEW IT! —i mean, uh, cool, good deal. we’re meeting in the lobby in ten.”

“i’ll be there.” you waved goodbye as he shut the door, and stan reappeared from behind the couch. the two of you simply exchanged looks, and started laughing.

so, you had a lovely lunch outing with two of your co-workers and a rather nervous stanley. he was surprisingly shy for the intimidating big-guy persona that he gave off, which was adorable. it didn’t take long for him to earn the approval of the others—they were both moved to tears after listening to his life story. jeff, the male of the two, kept complaining about how it wasn’t fair that you had such a good man just suddenly show up on your doorstep, whereas liz warned stan that if he ever hurt you he would have to deal with her. all in all, the whole group had a great time.

presently, you were sorting through a mail delivery that had come for the inn, making different piles for guests and employees who had received letters and other packages.

it was just then that something caught your eye.

it was a postcard … addressed to stan.

huh … i wonder what this could be about?

you stifled your curiosities and stopped yourself from reading his mail, and instead chose to slip it underneath his door.

oh, well. i’m sure it’s nothing important.

… right?

end

author's note:

*holds stanley so gently in the palm of my hand*

love this guy ... what a guy

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[aita-blorbos]

AITA for telling people I don’t work here?

Ok so it’s Saturday morning and I (28M) don’t have a lot on my mind, besides like maybe lunch, I’m a little hungover so I go to the supermarket really to just get out of the house. Then suddenly this woman approaches way to fast and her eyes are intense And she spits on me a little as she asks, “where do you keep the pasta?” and I’m confused but I try to be polite so I say, “I dunno aisle 3?” And then she demands get it for her! I just stand there for a moment because I was just trying to get a Gatorade and I don’t want to deal with this, but then she rolls her eyes and I kind of lose it. 

So I tell her, “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not sell you shit!” And then I say, ”Maybe should work here so I can hide all the things you want from you!” and, “If I did work here do you think I’d be wearing a dirty white singlet? Ya fool!” Then I noticed the pasta was there the whole fucking time so I tell her, “Silly me I’ve had the pasta all along. Fuck you” and she starts crying. 

So now it’s the afternoon and I’m not going to lie, I feel really great about making a middle age woman cry today. So I’m taking a walk on the hot sand on the beach and decide to take a rest in the shade of the lifeguard tower (and my foresight readies me for melee) so then this man runs up from the surf way to fast, with a bluebottle across his chest he shakes me as he asks “you’ve got to save my kid!” But I can’t swim, so I tell him that, and he gets all upset and goes “what kind of a kid guard are you then?” And I’m tired and just wanted to take a nap but he rolls his eyes so I kind of snap.

And I tell him “Hey! I don’t work here but if I did I would not save your kid!” And then I tell him “maybe I should work here that way I could help relieve that nasty sting for you” and I tell him “do you think a life guard would make a race car out of sand then fall asleep?” And then I get a bit sidetracked thinking about how I should probably get a job and I guess I’m mumbling because the guy asks if I was thinking about saving his son and I tell him no and he says “What about my son, he's drowning?!” Then I look over his shoulder and see that no he isn’t and I tell him "Your son's fine, he just swims weird, and you shouldn't hold that against him.” And the guy turns around to check and I take that as my moment to get out of there.

So it’s night now and I’m not thinking about much just kicking a ball down the street then I give it to much juice and it flies over the fence of my local NASA compound (just bear with me) I climb over the fence to get it when I realize the guards are all passed out and it seems there’s been a planed attack. The alarms are blaring but I’m the only one in tact. I try to phone for help but something must be blocking it. And they’re an alien transmitting itself to NASA screens specifically. And the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I’m trying to figure out way to do or find any one who can actually handle this and I tell the aliens but it just repeats “Give us ya planet” and I try to get someone to answer me and tell them we’re under attack and again the alien says “Give us ya planet” and I try to tell it that I don’t have the authority to do that but it just won’t listen. I just came to get my ball but it’s been a long day so I’ll speak for all of humanity. 

(Also I didn’t know this at the time but apparently this had worldwide news coverage)

So I tell the alien “Hey! I don’t work here and if I did I would not surrender shit!” And I tell it “maybe I should work here that way I could take a trip to mars and strangle you!” And I ask “Do you think the president of Earth has a fucking mullet?” And at this point I’m just letting out all the anger from the day and I tell it  “maybe I should work here that way I could put my planetary fist in you, I could teach your kid to drown in front of you, and I could hide all of the linguini from you!” 

Then the alien fucked right off and also I’m the president of earth now. So AITA

[octuscle]

A matter of honor

After splitting up with his girlfriend, Angus' financial situation became increasingly precarious. The hotel he had moved into when he was kicked out of the apartment they shared was far too expensive for his means. And after a short time, he realized that his standard of living did not match his income, but hers. Every use of a credit card was a gamble. And Angus was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his cool.

He realized that the situation was critical when he went to his fashionable gym after a short and not very lucrative day at work. His membership card wasn't working. So he went to the counter to ask why. And his jaw dropped: Nicolas, who worked at the front desk, was usually the epitome of a crossfitter. A handsome young man, well-built, well-groomed, a feast for the eyes! But the fellow who was now standing opposite Angus was, firstly, almost a head taller and at least twice as heavy as Angus. A beefcake! His right arm was inked all over with the kind of images you'd expect to see on a hooligan. A greasy mullet on his head and a horseshoe moustache on his face. And a huge cock that was squeezed into his tight trousers.

"Hi Angus, are you having any problems?" asked Nicolas. "I don't know, Nicolas" replied Angus, "you tell me!" "Name's Nick, let me have a look". Nick explained to Angus that the last two contributions could not be debited. And that letters to his address had been returned as undeliverable. No wonder, Angus had of course given his girlfriend's address. Angus took a deep breath and explained his problem to Nick. It felt good to finally tell the truth. Somehow he felt like he could tell his fellow anything. "Angus, my buddy, I think I have a solution," Nick said and pulled out his cell phone. "I'm easily making a thousand pounds a day with this app here at the moment. Sometimes even 2,000 if things are going well. He looked at Angus almost lustfully, grabbed his crotch and said that he could easily make just as much money.

"Hell," Angus thought to himself. As long as my cell phone isn't blocked, I'll give it a try. Nick let Angus into the gym and Angus installed the app. If he understood correctly, this was basically something like OnlyFans. People paid for voyeurism. He could only hope that none of his friends joined in. Angus took a deep breath, put on his most dazzling smile and posted the selfie with the caption "Guys, I'm new here. Looking forward to interacting with you!"

Angus had just finished warming up when he received his first message. "Would love to see you with a nipple piercing. Offer 20 pounds." Angus wondered what he should do now. He could select "Accept", "Decline" or "Counter-proposal". He pressed "Accept" once. The account balance display jumped to 20 pounds. Apart from that, he didn't notice anything. Very strange, he thought as he played with his right nipple, lost in thought. Maybe it would be a good idea to pierce the other one at some point. When he was financially liquid again. The feeling of the piercing was simply hot!

Angus had almost finished training when he got the next message. "What do you think about a new job? Offer you 100 pounds." This was getting stranger and stranger. He pressed "counter-proposal" and jokingly entered 5,000 pounds. What could happen? The display read "Crowdfunding active" and the account balance rose slowly but steadily. Angus finished his training, posted a quick selfie with a sweaty torso and went to take a shower. Back at his locker, he glanced at his cell phone. The account balance was 4,975.89 pounds. And then it jumped to 5,020.00 pounds. Nick had been right, it was a piece of cake. He got into his not-so-clean overalls, put on his work boots, grabbed the toolbox and set off. He had the late shift at the emergency plumbing service today, he had to hurry. He said goodbye to Nick with a fist bump. He liked the fellow. The bald head and the full beard looked great on the guy. Okay, at just 5'6" he looked a bit like a garden gnome. But at least he looked like a damn muscular one.

Angus' boss didn't like it when he played with his personal cell phone during work. So he could only read through the new messages after he had finished work at around 10 pm. There were a lot of offers. Some were strange at best, really sick or perverted at worst. He couldn't even put up that much money as a counteroffer that he would agree to a one-inch cock or six fingers per hand. With others, he didn't have to think twice. Someone had offered him a new apartment for 500 pounds, for example. Another had offered to adjust Angus' hairstyle. For 200 fucking pounds. Angus really had to grin. As he sat around the corner of his basement apartment in his favorite pub, drinking an after-work beer, he scratched his bald head. He still didn't understand what this app was for and what it did… But he already had almost 7,000.00 pounds in his account.

It had been a tough day. Angus was tired. He was glad to be in bed. The last message he accepted before falling asleep was the offer that he was now called Liam. For 50.00 pounds, after all.

Liam knew what he owed his fans. Still lying in bed, he posted a selfie with the caption "Out of bed, off to the gym. And then back to cleaning clogged pipes".

While sitting on the loo, Liam accepted a few more tattoos and a septum piercing. It brought him almost another 400 pounds. But if he wanted the muscles to burn, he had to hurry now.

Nick greeted Liam and told him what work still needed to be done in the men's shower. By taking on these small janitorial tasks, Liam saved himself the horrendous club fees. He could only hope that he had understood Nick correctly. The ascetic Indian's accent was really hard to understand.

"300 pounds if you become a weightlifter". Accepted. "50 pounds if you work out in a basement gym in a backyard in Newham" Accepted. Bloody hell, he was here to work out, not to chat. Liam simply accepted a series of requests without thinking. He hadn't fucked an ass for over ten hours now. And his shift as a sewer worker was about to start. He had to let off some pressure first. One of the fellows working out with him had been watching him the whole time. Liam stood up in front of him.

"Ever sucked a proper ma'e's cock?" Liam asked with his booming bass in his deepest cockney accent. The young man immediately and willingly got down on his knees. Yes, Liam had a mountain of debts to work off. But a man's got to do what a man's got to do.

Pics found @hellishin and @sarge555