#i feel like shes got more priority for men than she does for me and thats not smth im abt to deal with.

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

Listen maybe the jedi couldn't end slavery on tattooine in their lifetime with just the numbers they had, sure. But they could've gone back for anakin's mom, like the one woman who is clearly a sore spot for him, I get it, not attachments and all, but he's far more likely to not make a sudden, angry, rash decision and slaughter not just the men, but the women and the children as well if she's not in danger of being kidnapped and murdered right?

Beautiful comment left by a dear in my post about the Jedi's limited numbers. At least it wasn't an essay in the reblogs, unlike the last… seven or eight I think. Idk, I lost count after three people dropped anti-Jedi essays I definitely didn't ask for in less than an hour in a clearly tagged post that wasn't even meant to be serious.

Now for the response because why the heck not?:

1) Sorry to break it to you buddy but she could still be kidnaped tortured and murdered on Couruscant.

2) They should have gone back to free one slave and risk war with the Hutts since Watto has connections with them? Really? It sounds really fucking risky. Plus, when freeing slaves, slaves are hostages, freeing them is dangerous for both the slave, the person/people freeing them and whoever is in the blast radious since, y'know, there's a fucking bomb inside them.

3) They did free her in Legends, or at least had a part in her winning her freedom.

4) It's not the Jedi's job to placate a fucking genocidal child murderer, it's ANAKIN'S job to keep his shit together and not murder people.

5) Why does Shmi deserve freedom more urgently than any other slave? Because she's nice? Because she's Anakin's mom? Newflash mate, freedom is a right and even the rudest slave who has no family or friends deserves it. What you say is ATTACHMENT, it's the Dark Side. You'd be saving Shmi because of who she is in relationship to someone else or because she's "earned" it, not because she's a fucking person and deserves her basic human rights. Arguably, if you flip this you could just as easily say that a rude person with no friends and family deserves slavery, or at the very least shouldn't be a priority when freeing slaves.

6) George Lucas is more metaphorical than literal, and the PT suffered for it (it does have some holes).

7) How do you know the Jedi didn't try to free her but couldn't for X reason? That headcanon is just as valid as saying they never tried (actually more, since Qui-Gon did try).

8) It bears repeating: it's ANAKIN'S responsability to keep his shit together and not. murder. people. I don't give a fuck that his mom died, it's no excuse to MURDER FUCKING CHILDREN. Shmi didn't deserve to be kidnaped, tortured and murdered, but the Tuskens (the children most of all) didn't deserve to be slaughtered like animals either.

9) I'm gonna say it again because this is serious: Anakin shouldn't be coddled by the fans, he was above the IRL age of majority in most countries, twelve year olds spent their whole lives in PRISON for far less and he got married literally one day after. He. Was. An. Adult.

I apologize for the essay because it does seem disproportionate in hindsight. But after months of having nearly every single one of my posts infested with anti-Jedi people dropping essays I have clearly stated I don't want, after years of not being able to enjoy the content I like without looking at comments and reblogs and seeing vitrol towards not just the fictional characters I love but towards me and other real people, I'm at the end of my patience.

I won't tag you in the end, commenter, because I don't want to give any incentives for harassment or make you or anybody who sees Star Wars like you to feel upset by reading this. You are entitled to your opinions as much as I am to mine. If you see this post, you know who you are.

[soap-is-an-artist]

Going back to Monstrous Regiment post-egg-cracking has been so amazing. The first time I read it, I didn't understand everything, but I had this nagging feeling that if I reread it later, it would make more sense. And now it does.

For one thing, the way that Nuggan's Abominations are treated really hit hard. In the beginning, things were well-intentioned, and maybe not so bad, but they became corrupted by a fear of change and a fear of what is Other. Nugganism became a stricter, more brutal, and senseless religion. It didn't provide hope, and it didn't provide a standard for living. The only thing it could do was cause suffering and give an excuse to inflict pain on others. The Girls' Working School perpetuated a cycle of horrific abuse against young girls who had committed no crime except disobeying the meaningless babblings of a dead god. It didn't solve any problems or act as a positive force in the community. All around, the institution of religion failed.

Speaking of the Girl's Working School, I can't recall if I picked up on Tonker and Lofty/Magda and Tilda being a couple the first time around, but I sure did this time. It was magnificent. However, I do remember that it absolutely shattered my heart when Tonker finally snapped and went on her tirade about the School and how it broke everyone that was forced into it. They were all beaten and abused in other ways; Lofty was raped and after she carried the baby to term, it was taken and never seen again; Tonker is missing her "middle gears"; Wazzer fell into religious mania [although in her case, the spirit actually was speaking to her] and turned to doors inside her head. The whole thing is fucking heartbreaking.

While the situation of the main characters can be interpreted as a trans allegory, I think it's a little more accurate to say that they were crossdressing and socially transitioned for safety. For one thing, when given the choice, they chose to live openly as women rather than continuing to present as men, although some of them kept some aspects of masculinity in their presentation. However, I think the case of the higher ranking officers is really interesting. Essentially, Sargeant Jackrum goes and deadnames all of them to get them to see sense and let the titular regiment choose whether to be open about their identities. [I know personally I would be raging mad if I were in that situation. I was successfully living as a man for years, and then the guy who covered for me just drops my old identity in front of a bunch of my peers who I never wanted to share this with? I would be mad.] In the end, it got the job done, but they make the comment that they could never return to wearing dresses. I think it's possible that they ended up actually identifying as men, rather than solely presenting as them. They definitely internalized a lot of military misogyny either way. Obviously that's not a positive or universal facet of transitioning, but it is a very real phenomenon that happens. And the misogyny can be internalized whether you're trans or cis. Regardless, the idea of living as essentially a new person and leaving your old self behind is very trans, in my opinion, or at least resonates with my experience.

The way all the members of the regiment were gradually discovered to be women was a very "Oh! You're...? Me too." moment for me. We really do just kind of find each other. When you know what to look for, it's easier to see who else is like you. They became their own tiny, close-knit community, and supported each other, although they all had their own goals and priorities. And I think that's lovely.

I have more thoughts on this [so many thoughts about the depiction of nationalism and war. Like that line about "the dead are not your masters"? Loved that], but that's all I'm gonna type out for now because my fingers are tired. But now it is here for future me to read back on, because I didn't keep any written records of my thoughts when I read Monstrous Regiment the first time, so it's basically just fuzzy memories and vague feelings that I'm trying to hold onto. It's a really good book, probably one of my favorites of the Discworld series, although it doesn't top Thud! for me.

[29121996]

.

[sea-owl]

Ok but I wanna talk about Portia in that trailer and the absolute pride in her voice when she's taking to Penelope.

I personally love Portia's character and how she's been a foil to Violet in that she's a loving mother, but she's also a realist about the society they live in. She's a tough love, no nonsense type of mother. She's making sure everyone survives as a top priority, if she has to be mean to get them there than so be it.

She's been at odds with Penelope the last two seasons mainly because of their different views. Portia is a realist, while Penelope still has dreams like most 17-18 year olds. Portia, in her own way, has been trying to bring Penelope back to reality.

An example of this to me is the scene where Portia finds out Penelope has been writing to Colin. The first thing she says "I declare Penelope," in a softer tone and when Penelope declares Colin her friend that tone becomes more strict. She tells Penelope, "Colin Bridgerton is no more your friend than I am the next Catherine the Great." Is it mean? Yup. But looking at it through Portia's eyes there's some truth to it. Their society doesn't allow friendships between single men and women. Colin and Penelope writing to one another without being engaged or even a proper courtship was actually very inappropriate. Portia probably does understand that there really isn't anything inappropriate in those letters and they are actually friends but she also knows no one else would see it that way. If she wanted she would have been well within her rights to go to Anthony about it and raise a fuss. She needs Penelope to see this too.

Now come season 3 in Portia's pov Penelope is finally taking the marriage mart seriously. She's got herself a suitor who is a titled lord, and Portia is proud of her. No more silly little fantasies of love. Meanwhile Penelope is probably weirded out with some other mixed feelings by this because this isn't what she is used to from her mother.

Makes me excited to see where their relationship goes. Because honestly, Penelope probably inherited the most from her mother, but she's in denial about it. It mostly comes out in Lady Whistledown, but that sharp wit and scheming mind is Portia. Penelope will actually fall into Portia's line of thinking when she's backed into a corner. When she saved both Colin and Eloise, she knew they would be hurt, and she's sorry about that, but she also knows they'll be safe. That is Portia's school of thought 101.

I've also been wanting to see how they approach the big heart to heart between the two of them. I want them to get into a screaming match that breaks down into them sincerely talking to one another. Penelope's confidence is supposed to get a boost this season, and we know she's not afraid to subtley barb at her mother. I hope they have Penelope confront Portia at some point, forcing everything out in the open.

[guiltyasdave]

are you ever dreaming of me?

series masterlist • this is part IV

pairing: Dave York x f!reader

a/n: This got very dark very quickly, but it had to be done. It’s basically just one big love letter from me to Dave and his character. I know Dave’s behavior in the last chapter has been a little frustrating but I hope it’ll make more sense now (it’s still frustrating though ngl). I also know this is not as smut-heavy as the other chapters, which might come as a disappointment to some. Stay with me here, more filth is coming soon, I just had to get emotional for a second. <3 (also, please be nice because I lowkey hate this, actually)

word count: ~3.1k

summary: Dave’s side of the story.

warnings: ANGST, bits of fluff if you squint, age-gap, mentions of killing people, mentions of death, mentions of rough sex, power imbalance, able-bodied reader, somewhat unhealthy relationship dynamics, dubios morals (Dave is cheating on his wife… kinda), idiots in love, this whole serious is still very much 18+ only, mdni… did I mention angst? (As always, please tell if if I forgot something!)

dividers by @/saradika <3

find my full masterlist here!

Dave York isn’t a good man.

He isn’t a good man and he hasn’t been in a long time. He probably had been, once, when he first joined the military, when he still thought that he was doing the good thing, the right thing. Before he killed his first man. Now he’s living in shades of gray, where nothing is as simple as right or wrong.

He knows that what he’s doing is not right, but then again, the people that he’s killing aren’t good men either. He’s doing what he’s good at, what he has been trained to do for years. He doesn’t really know what else he’s good at. If there even is anything else.

He makes enough money to provide well for his daughters, the only thing in his life that he really cares about, the two girls that he loves more than anything. He loved their mother too, once, when they were both young. They were high school sweethearts, got married quickly simply because that was the thing that you did, only to realize later that adult life with each other wasn’t what either of them had imagined.

He’s never told Carol what exactly it is that he does, trying to protect her, which then led to her not understanding what was going on when he came home feeling cold and empty, a void inside of him that nothing could fill. They both grew distant from each other, not sharing any real connection anymore, just living aside one another. It works for him; their daughters are still the top priority for both of them, and they’re going to do everything in their power to give them the best possible childhood.

He suspects that Carol is seeing someone else, with the way she’s sometimes working late for no good reason, sliding out of the room to answer her phone at odd hours, the way he occasionally finds a position on their shared credit card bill that he doesn’t have an explanation for.

Dave knows that if he cared, he could easily find out every little detail about it. If he cared, he would probably be angry at how she’s not even making an effort to hide it. But the thing is - he just can’t bring himself to care. Has never done the same thing either, neither out of spite, nor because he had any desire for it.

Until he met her.

Sitting in a hotel bar, two seats over from him, when he’d just gotten a job done and figured that a quick drink might help him fall asleep easier. The whiskey’s burn in his throat didn’t ease the coldness that felt like it had permanently settled into his chest, not that he’d expected it to.

He had just decided to retreat to his room and get out of the city first thing in the morning when she sighed loudly and downed her own drink abruptly. He had noticed her when he walked in, the way he always clocked every person in any room he entered, and every possible exit route. He had absentmindedly noted that she was attractive, then dismissed the thought immediately. Probably here for a date, much younger than him, not paying him any mind. Not a threat, and therefore not important.

Not important at all, until he found himself turning to her and offering to buy her another drink before his mind had even caught up to his actions, learning that she had just been stood up for what would indeed have been a date, noticing the glint of interest in her gaze as she eyed him up and down, feeling a kind of longing that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Getting her to go up to his room with him had been easy. A mutual understanding of wanting each other, the desire to turn a shitty evening into something else, something that he doesn’t think either of them understood at the time.

Kissing her for the first time had been easy, too. Touching her, feeling her hot skin under his fingertips, her entire being so much softer, lighter than he was, felt easy. It felt right, like something that he hadn’t known he was missing right until that moment. He wanted to devour her, make her his, get her as close as he possibly could, before he inevitably had to give up this fleeting moment of something that suspiciously felt like happiness, and happiness never stayed within his reach for too long.

Sinking into her for the first time, hearing her gasp, her breath hot against his neck, felt even better. This was never gonna last, things this good never did. The way she clenched around him when he first slapped her ass and her whimper of “harder, please” turned him feral in a way that he hadn’t known before. How she gave up all control to him so willingly when his entire life had felt out of control for so long - it was addicting. He had known that he would come back for more again and again before he had even spilled himself into her for the first time.

He hadn’t planned for her to stay the night. Hadn’t planned for the way she kissed his lips in the morning, acting a little shy, like she was worried that he might send her away, but so clearly showing him that she wanted more of him, if that was what he wanted. And god damn, did he want to give her more, give her all that he had to offer, if only it wasn’t for the fact that any more of him would be enough to scare her away for good.

So, he didn’t give her more. Made it abundantly clear that he wasn’t looking for an emotional attachment, told her about his marriage, told her that they couldn’t be a thing. She was quick to hide her disappointment, but not quick enough for him not to notice. He half expected her to walk out then, that this wasn’t something she wanted, but instead she scribbled down her phone number, gave him a flirty smile and told him to call her “whenever”.

He knew he was being greedy, that he should have kept it a one time thing that he could keep a fond memory of, but of course he called her. Kept making stops in her town before flying back home, started spending weekends with her, the feeling of being around her too good to let go of.

He knows that it’s not right, that he’s probably taking advantage of her in some way. Of course he sees how badly she wants to please him, how she looks at him like he’s hung the moon for her. She has never denied him anything, no matter what kinds of depraved things he’s wanted to do with her. Hesitated, yes, but she has never said no. Never called red, never asked him to stop. Not when he first told her to call him “sir”, not when he spanked her for the first time, not when he’s edging her until she’s barely coherent, not when his fingers tightened around her throat for the first time. He could leave her a crying, shaking mess on the floor, and by the end of the night she’d still look up at him with those wide eyes and thank him.

It’s addictive and he can’t stop, always comes back for more when it feels like his whole life is spiraling out of his control again, when the darkness around him is threatening to swallow him whole. She’ll let him grab at her with rough hands, mold her body into any shape he wants, let him spit filth at her and let lose until he feels grounded again, until some of the darkness around him has dissipated.

Lately, work has been weighing on him even harder. Maybe he’s just getting older, maybe he has finally reached his limit, he’s not sure. With the whole week off, an incredibly rare occurrence, he knew who he wanted to spend it with. She had seemed stressed lately, like she needed a break too, so it was easy to convince himself that he was doing this for her. That it wasn’t just a selfish plan of his to spend more time with her.

Because somewhere along the way he has come to enjoy the time with her way too much. He enjoys lying in bed together, both of them catching their breaths, laughing about a stupid joke, the little tidbits from her life that she shares with him, the rare occasions when they’re walking around her neighborhood. The way she shyly grabbed his hand the first time, like she was scared that he would pull it away. The smile that she tried to but couldn’t hide when he didn’t.

This isn’t right and it’s not going to last, he’s well aware of that. As clear as he has been about his intentions, he still feels like he’s leading her on sometimes. But it feels too good to stop, to let go of one of the few comforts that he has in life.

The past few days with her have been heaven. He hadn’t anticipated how much he would enjoy spending so much uninterrupted time with her, how good it would feel to be around her the entire day, just watching her be herself and listening to her talking. And he has been talking as well, the feeling of speaking to someone without an ulterior motive, of someone listening to him just because they wanted to, more meaningful to him than he could put into words.

And all throughout, she had so willingly bent to his every wish, put all her trust into him, secure in the knowledge that in the end, he would take care of her.

So, Dave had let his guard down. Relaxed. Then the dream happened.

Last night, he had come home to find the girls slaughtered in their house, their small bodies soaked in blood. It’s a recurring nightmare, a fear that he can never entirely shake off, that haunts his subconscious every couple of weeks. He’s being thorough in his work, never leaving loose ends, keeping his private life concealed from the world that he moves in. The risk that anything could happen to them is as low as he can push it, but it’s not zero. Never zero, and it’s eating at him. Usually, he wakes up alone, gasping for breath, the sheets soaked with sweat. Him and Carol haven’t slept in the same bed for a long time.

Last night, it had been different. It had been different because she had been there beside him, shaking him awake and holding him in her arms until he calmed back down. It had also been different because she had been part of the dream. Just as dead, just as blood-soaked as his daughters.

She had been so sweet when he woke up, and it broke his heart. He wasn’t a good person. He was endangering everyone around him, he was endangering her by not being able to end this thing with her, and yet here she was, oblivious, comforting him.

He had always thought that eventually, he would be the one to break things off. But what if it was her? What if she figured out what a pathetic excuse of a man he was, that he couldn’t give her anything? Not a real relationship, and no future. He couldn’t let her in, couldn’t let her see who he was. What he did, what he was afraid of - and just how realistic those fears were.

He couldn’t even bear to picture the look on her face if he ever told her. The betrayal, the disgust, and eventually the fear. He couldn’t tell her. He wouldn’t. But how could he go on with this, knowing that every minute that he spends with her, he puts her in danger? Someone could find out. Someone could find her.

So does what he does best. Makes a plan. Suppresses his emotions until he’s sure of what to do. How to keep her safe. The logical part of his mind arrives at a solution pretty quickly: She’ll be safest if she stays away from him.

The emotional part of him, the part that he tries to keep shut down, doesn’t approve of this idea.

He has to tell her. Sooner rather than later, while the dream is still fresh in his memory, while he can still see her dead body when he closes his eyes.

Because he obviously knew about the dangers of being with him when he first laid eyes on her. When he kissed her for the first time, texted her for the first time, walked up to her apartment for the first time, when he booked this damn vacation because he’s unable to stay away from her. Unable to think straight when it comes to her. There’s a million reasons why he shouldn’t be with her and yet, he always finds a reason not to quit.

He tells himself that he’ll speak to her as soon as she gets up. Then once he’s done with his phone call. Maybe after they’ve had breakfast. At the end of the day, when they’re back in the room. He never does. He can’t.

The tension has become unbearable at that point. He knows that she’s confused, that she has questions that he doesn’t have answers for. His life feels out of control once again, so he tries gaining it back in the only way that he knows.

He half expected her to refuse him, but she seems just as relieved as he feels when he tells her to get down on her knees. Afterwards, he doesn’t feel better. Possibly hates himself even more.

He can tell that she’s off afterwards, and he’s battling himself to comfort her. This is not what he should be doing. None of this is what he should be doing.

Usually, she tucks herself into the space between his shoulder and his chest before he can even say a word. Not tonight. Tonight, she had her back turned to him before he had even switched off the lights, the “good night” that she normally breathes against his neck nothing more than a murmur from her side of the bed.

He stares at her backside in the darkness of the room, the way she seems to be curling in on herself, and he has no idea what to do. What they just did seemed like what she wanted, she had appeared eager, enthusiastic even, but maybe he read her wrong. Shit, he hadn’t even asked for her color once.

It’s quiet for a long time. He finally feels himself slowly drifting off to sleep, when her hears her sniffle. His eyes fly open again. It’s only minimal movements, but he can see her tremble ever so slightly. Fuck it, he thinks to himself as he reaches out towards her.

“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?”

You tense at his words, at the fact that he’s apparently awake. Has probably been the whole time. You try your hardest to make your voice sound normal, even though you know that it’s pointless.

“Nothing.”

It comes out even weaker than you had anticipated. You keep your back to him and feel him shuffling closer, his hand gently pulling at your shoulder to turn you towards him. “Baby. Talk to me.” His voice is soft in your ear and your heart is beating painfully in your chest. Baby. He has never called you Baby before. You feel a fresh wave of tears welling up in your eyes and shake your head but let him turn you around until you’re facing him.

His eyes search your face in the faint moonlight that’s filtering into the room and his hands cup your damp cheeks, his thumbs gently running over the skin under your eyes. The worry that’s so evident in his expression right now makes you want to break down. You’re exhausted, and confused, and you don’t understand the man in front of you and his contradictory behavior at all. So far you’ve been crying silently, but you can feel your bottom lip trembling as you try to suppress the sobs that are threatening to crawl up your throat.

“Did I- shit, was I too rough, did I hurt you? You didn’t say anything, but I never asked- I should’ve checked, I’m sorry, I-“

“You didn’t hurt me,” you whisper, cutting off his frantic rambling. He didn’t, not in the way that he’s referring to, anyway.

“Then what’s wrong?” he pleads, his hands still on your face, “Talk to me.” You inhale deeply. You really don’t want to have this conversation, but maybe it’s best like this. Rip the bandaid off, make it quick.

“Do you want to leave?”

Your voice breaks on the last word. He stares at you for a beat, his eyes wide. “Do I- What?” You shrug, unable to bring yourself to ask a second time. One of his hands slides down to your shoulder, holding you there. He doesn’t speak, his eyes boring into you.

You can’t hold his gaze any longer, your eyes dropping down to his chest instead. “You’ve been… weird. Today. I thought- I don’t fucking know, that I had done something or that you’ve-” a sob breaks free and interrupts you, “that you’ve had enough of me. That you don’t want to go on with… this.” You gesture helplessly between the two of you.

You’re certain that now you’ve said too much, that if he hadn’t had enough before, he definitely has now. You’re supposed to be fun, a distraction, not someone who’s clinging to him, but you’re feeling too exhausted, too raw to keep pretending like this thing between you doesn’t mean something. To you, at least.

“Fuck,” Dave mumbles, and you gaze up to see the anguish in his eyes before his arms envelop you and he presses you against his chest, speaking into your hair. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You didn’t do anything wrong, I promise.”

It’s quiet for a minute as you’re inhaling his scent, trying to calm yourself down, when something occurs to you. “You didn’t say no,” you whisper into his chest, “you said that I didn’t do anything, but… you didn’t say that you don’t want to leave.” Dave freezes for just a second, searching your face, then he sighs heavily. He sounds defeated, you think.

“No, I don’t want to leave.”

taglist/people who have expressed interest in this: @joelscurls @reddedmiller @iamasaddie @guelyury @theywhowriteandknowthings @amanitacowboy @corazondebeskar @vabeachazn @mellymbee @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @missladym1981 @no1-nosesitter

let me know if you wanna be added, also no hard feelings if you wanna be removed! 🫶🏻

if you enjoyed this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging <3

series masterlist

[pjisskullourful]

𝙁𝘼𝙑𝙊𝙐𝙍𝙄𝙏𝙀 𝙂𝙊𝘿

😈 Ethan × reader

18+ readers only!!!🔥 sex demon does explicit shit, a lot of explicit shit

° Ethan Torchio/female reader insert

wordcount:::: 13,519

° impeccably requested by an anon: anxious/gloomy/perpetually stressed (a med student? Stem girlie?) y/n is too busy to date and isn’t very experienced for the same reason but one day something happens and the fomo hits—her sadness, pessimism, unexplored potential is so powerful she accidentally manifests incubus!ethan ° got your own request in mind? send it here! but for more control& priority status hit me up for a commission

° lyrics stolen from cobrah

° [ITA:] cazzo: fuck

getting stronger, going harder than your favourite God ...

It was another Saturday night of sitting alone in your apartment because you had been too tired from the week to make plans. The slog of med school continued, taking up all of your time while you felt like you were no closer to leaving the student phase of your life.

Your friends had invited you to go out with them. But as much as they sang the praises of their favourite nightclub, you knew that you wouldn’t really enjoy your time at The Den. You just didn’t get clubs. You had yet to figure out where the fun was supposed to be derived from. It had only ever been an overwhelming and overpriced experience for you.

But when Amandine began texting you from the club, you did feel that little sting of regret. With nothing to do but stare at the screen of your phone, you worried what you were missing out on. You felt less secure in your decision to stay home.

if i find a guy thats your type can i give him your number? Amandine’s words appeared on your screen.

Maybe on another night you would have laughed at this strange question. But right now you were just feeling down. How do you know my type? I don’t even know my type.

But Amandine didn’t let you shake her from this unexpected goal. i’ve been shopping with you so much, i know your tastes.

Your best friend of so many years, you knew that she didn’t mean you any harm. She wanted only the best for you.

Get their Insta handles for me and I’ll judge for myself, you replied.

This didn’t threaten your sense of safety too much. You could keep yourself in your comfort zone, not treading the uncharted territory of romance unless you really wanted to.

always judging, she said back. if you’re not careful you’re gonna judge your whole life away.

You just stared at these words, completely lost on how to respond. There was no way for you to defend yourself against what was essentially the truth.

You were the least experienced of all of your friends. You were the odd one out when it came to conversations about relationships, sex or men.

You shut down any pitying sentiment by stating that you were waiting for the right guy. Some days you felt extremely patient, or you forgot about the wait.

But on other days, your insecurities would be louder, more distracting. You wondered why you weren’t following the same timeline as everyone around you. Was it because there was something wrong with you, and the perfect man had seen it and already decided to avoid you? You worried about staying a virgin for a very long time because you didn’t know how to change it, which prompted more waiting.

Your thoughts and views of yourself didn’t improve as the night wore on. Amandine started to send you usernames of the ‘talent’ she found for you amongst the crowd.

But you couldn’t see yourself with any of these men. The first one had an aesthetic combination that you couldn’t find appealing - the length of his hair, his style of glasses and facial hair reminded you of someone you had gone on a few painfully awkward dates with. The next guy looked like a fuckboy. The next one had photos of himself holding different fish he had caught. The next guy’s Instagram featured photos of him only dressed in tailored suits, with extensive captions, as if the photos were prompts for essays.

You felt nothing when you looked at these men. Maybe it would be different if you were standing in front of them. Maybe then you would be able to feel the sparks that you had been waiting for, that hadn’t been present on any of the dates you had been taken on.

You were feeling bitter as you typed a lie to your friend. You told her to give her matchmaking skills a rest because you were going to sleep. You claimed that you had an early morning shift tomorrow at the café where you worked.

You thought you knew what she was thinking about you right now, it was something she had shared with you in the past - you didn’t know what you wanted, but your standards were way too high. You were aware that you were more likely to tell your friends what you didn’t find attractive, than talk about what you did like. You couldn’t pin down exactly what your type was, only what it wasn’t.

You turned the volume of your phone off and placed it face down, not wanting to give it another second of attention. You switched off the bedside lamp and began getting comfortable in your bed.

For a while you didn’t think that you would be able to fall asleep, not when your mind was racing. You still felt bitter, making a very long list of all of the things that you were missing out on. Then you began to rank these items based on how much of your life you were likely to spend continuing to not have them.

Then you got stuck on a specific idea of how nice it would be to have the comfort of cuddling with a man right now. You had never fallen asleep in someone’s arms before. You wondered how it would feel.

You were certain that you didn’t want to do it with any of the men Amandine had deemed to be your type tonight.

But who would you want to do it with, who were your options? You wanted someone who looked like Heath Ledger, but specifically how he had looked in 10 Things I Hate About You, with long and dark hair. Or someone who looked like Johnny Depp, but only from the early ‘90’s. Or someone like Jason Momoa, but not when he was doing that tough guy angry face.

You realised you were falling asleep when you lost track of thoughts, or they just stopped making any sense. Your mind couldn’t clearly give you an image to soothe you. It was all a muddle of ideas, your emotions still running with more power than usual. But you were already drifting off, unable to do anything beyond observe these feelings.

Loneliness.

Lust.

Frustration.

Uncertainty.

Desire.

Pessimism.

*** *** ***

The first thing that your bleary eyes saw were numbers in red - 3.33. Damn, it was way too early for you to be awake.

You were so displeased by the time, focused on this and not noticing what was wrong with what you were seeing. It took a few seconds before you realised it: the numbers on your digital clock were usually green.

This made you flinch before you raised your head, starting to fully (begrudgingly) wake up. You felt disorientated, much more than usual. There was something different about this bedroom you had been inhabiting for the past three years.

Then you realised why you had stirred in the first place: someone was knocking on the front door. Even though you were hearing it with your own ears, the insistent rhythm didn’t seem real to you.

You sat up, forcing yourself to grapple with your apparent reality. You took another look at your clock, seeking greater clarity. The numbers were back to their green hue, but they still read that ridiculous hour of three in the morning.

You had no idea of who could be at your door. There were no earlier arrangements that had slipped your mind. Nor were there any past instances that you could assume this to be a repeat of.

But the person seemed determined - surely this would only come from being in the right place at the right time.

You swung your legs out of the bed. You tried to ignore the fear that was like a little pit in your gut, because it was just over-dramatics.

Valentina or Amandine or one of your sisters was pulling a surprise on you. Someone that you knew had caught you off-guard by organising a delivery from Uber Eats - your brain produced this as a solution and you found it to be logical. You also liked it because it wasn’t threatening. You attached yourself to this theory as you walked towards the front door, the fear a little easier to write off.

There were six quick knocks, then a pause would follow before another burst of six knocks came. Your movements felt automatic as you willed yourself to not put too much thought into this scenario.

You reached the door and heard six more knocks. Before you could get freaked out, you turned the knob and opened the door, the security chain stopping it only a few inches from the frame. You looked out, the light behind you illuminating the doorstep.

You didn’t see anything in the hands of this stranger. It was just some guy, lacking any kind of context. But you didn’t just shut the door again, you let him make eye-contact with you as your heart positively rushed.

He addressed you by your name, not struggling over the pronunciation for even a second and you didn’t hesitate to nod. “Can I come in?”

You started to complete the action of unlocking your door without thought, against your better judgement. Once you realised what you were doing, you were horrified and you wanted to stop. But you couldn’t make yourself stop. It was as if you were watching the actions of someone on TV, so disconnected. This brought the fear into the forefront, combined with confusion.

Once the door was fully opened, he very calmly walked into your home. He wasn’t trying to intimidate you - he didn’t rush at you or brandish any weapons.

But you thought about how close you were to the kitchen. The sharpened cooking knives were the key to defending yourself against an attack.

“You can close that, there's nobody with me.” He said and you were following through with his instruction before he had properly finished speaking.

The action happened without you realising, it was as if someone else was in control. It made you feel cold inside, but you couldn't make yourself act any differently.

You were wide-eyed staring at this man, trying to gather all of the information that was available to you. He looked to be about the same age as you, no lines on his face, which was made up of strong angles. He was clean and well put-together, dressed only in black. He didn't quite look real to you, from the intricate lace on his undershirt to the perfectly swept back long hair - it all looked too good, it didn't fit with the ordinary surroundings of your home, your reality. He carried nothing with him, he was just some guy in a leather jacket.

“Who are you?” You asked, your insides trembling as you stood opposite the broad-shouldered stranger.

“You can call me Ethan.” He said. There was nothing threatening in his tone and his accent was typical to your ears.

“Because that's your name?” You asked.

“One of them. It's the only one you need to worry about.” He said.

You were pleased to find that you could speak more - you still had some control. “But who are you? What are you doing here?”

“You summoned me.” He said simply. He was so secure and confident, certain that he was right.

“I- uh- I didn't…” You said. You watched for his reaction, hoping you weren't about to unknowingly provoke him. “I don't know who told you to come here or why. But I didn't ask you to come, oh at all. I was literally just sleeping in my bed and- uh, sorry you came all this way, but…”

“Did you manifest something?” He asked. “Maybe as you were falling asleep, just as you were slipping from one state to the other?”

“Manifestation isn't real.” You stated.

His calm demeanour didn't falter. He walked closer to you, and your gut clenched as the rest of your body froze.

He reached out and grabbed you just above the elbow, where your skin was bare. He laid his fingers on you then pinched. The twinge of discomfort was strong and immediate, making you gasp, flinching away a little.

Thankfully he didn't pinch you for long, releasing his hold and a small smile began on his lips. “That felt pretty real, huh?”

“I don’t understand.” You said.

You didn't know how to feel, it was all just adrenaline keeping you upright and alert. Were you in flight or fight?

“Yeah, they always send me to the clueless ones.” He said, backing off a couple of steps. He was still close enough that he could grab you and you didn’t doubt that he could physically overpower you. But it didn’t seem like that was about to happen.

“Could you help me to be, uh, less clueless?” You asked.

“Let’s sit down, hm? There’s really no point standing around here when you’re not about to show me the door.” He said.

He didn’t wait for approval or guidance from you, just turning and leaving from this area. He left the entryway, wandering into your lounge room and you instantly followed after him. He looked like a regular visitor to your home, there was something so natural about the way he just sat down on your couch, seeming to get comfortable at once.

“What’s next, I offer you a fuckin’ drink?” You asked, trying to make a joke to cover your unease.

“Such a good hostess. Water is fine for me, sweetie.” He said.

You turned your back on him, giving him another shred of your trust. You went into the kitchen and your first action wasn’t to go for the knife block. Instead you got a glass from the cupboard and filled it with water, him calling you sweetie rang in your ears as you did so. You didn’t get anything for yourself, you couldn’t tell if you were thirsty or not.

You walked back into the living room and his dark eyes were on you immediately. His stare was so intense that it gave you a rush of heat in the depths of your gut. You had never experienced something like this before.

“Thanks.” He said. “Sit with me.”

You did it, sitting on the same couch as him. He turned to fully face you, more of that strong stare - what was he looking for?

“How did I summon you?” You asked.

“Great question.” He said. “And a great opportunity for me to find out just how sceptical you are. There’s boundaries that separate one realm from another…” You furrowed your brow. “And when you’re falling asleep those boundaries get less solid- imagine curtains and how they move and sway, things can slip through because it isn’t firm, it isn’t air-tight.

“And what slipped through was your manifesting. You weren’t tied down by reality, neither were your desires. You wished bigger than you would have if you thought for a second that anyone would hear. But desperate wishes like that- it’s what my kind are always listening for, we’re obsessed with it.

“Your wishing, or manifesting, or whatever you want to call it, slipped through to a more powerful, more mystical realm: mine.” He said. “Does that explain how you summoned me?”

It was like you had happened upon a puzzle. Several of the pieces were in place, connections formed, but the majority were scattered about in an unhelpful mess. And there wasn’t a reference image for you to know what you were working toward. But this stranger knew what the picture was supposed to be.

“Kinda. If I just put my scepticism to the side, I guess I can sort of understand what you’re trying to say.” You said.

“Good girl.” He said with an encouraging smile.

If you dropped the want to label everything as crazy, then you could proceed forward. “You said something about your kind- um, what kind is that?”

“I’m an incubus.” He said, looking amused now.

You couldn’t keep yourself from laughing, the nerves making it more high-pitched than you were used to hearing from yourself. “Alright, now I know that you’re in the wrong place, whoever told you to come here is lying to you. I didn’t summon you- why would a fuckin’ virgin summon a sex demon? You’re in the wrong house with the wrong girl, I hate to break it to you.”

You were embarrassed after saying that, silent as you sucked on the inside of your lower lip. You didn’t know why you had said it. Your absence of sexual partners wasn’t anything this stranger needed to know, but you had almost eagerly given him the information.

He didn’t have much reaction, taking a sip of water. He didn’t agree that he was in the wrong house, making no moves to get up and head for the door.

“Would you like me to act surprised that you’re a virgin?” He asked and you started to avoid his eyes, which seemed to see too much. “Because that’s what people usually do, right? They simply cannot believe it, and I see how it could catch them off-guard.

“But I already knew. You would have to work hard to surprise an incubus.” He said. “I’m in the right place, that’s why I know so much about you, darling.

“So you know a little about incubus? Enough that you didn’t need to ask for clarification.” He said.

“I’ve heard of them, I don’t know if I believe they’re real. But I’ve seen, um, stuff online.” You said.

He curiously tilted his head to the side. “Stuff?”

“Porn.” You said before you slapped a hand over your lips, your eyes growing wide. Your embarrassment skyrocketed more, you were physically uncomfortable and there was a blush in your cheeks hotter than you had ever felt before.

“It’s okay. In fact, I would say that’s a pretty common way for the word incubus to get on someone’s radar.” He said.

You gradually lowered your hand, speaking in a very small voice. “I don’t know why I said that.”

He gave your knee a pat, which felt a little condescending. “Don’t worry too much about it, baby. It’s just because I’m compelling you, it makes you more agreeable.”

“Are you controlling my mind?” You asked.

“Yes and no. The thoughts that you’re having are still your own, I can’t mess with that. It’s your actions that I’m having a kind of influence over. They must have covered this incubus talent in those very educational videos you watched.” He said teasingly, and your cheeks continued to flame. “Are you still unsure if me and my kind are real?”

You stared down at your hands, a noticeable shake in both of them. “I guess it’s- in a really weird way, it’s the most logical explanation.”

“Now you’re getting it, just go with it.” He said. “Do you know what incubus do?”

“I don’t know, you have kinky sex with people.” You said.

“We make deals. Being from a different realm and all, I can give you things that you would never be able to get for yourself. I could grant a wish for you.” He said.

You lifted your eyes slightly, getting a little closer to looking at his pleasing face again. “A wish?”

“Yeah. Well, within some limitations. I can do more than you, but I can’t do everything.” He said. “But I’ll tell you if your wish is possible or not before we do anything, darling.”

You looked up, finding the courage to meet his eye. And when you did, you began to smile for a reason that you couldn’t name. You didn’t mind how intimidated you felt, you supposed you were getting used to it.

“Do you like it when I call you that?” He asked.

You licked your lips. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Yeah, it gives you a sense of comfort, right? One that you didn’t know you needed.” He said.

He moved his hand slowly, giving you ample time to tell him to stop. But you didn’t want to, you were content to watch him place his hand on your knee, then keep it there.

“Do you wanna have kinky sex with me?” You asked.

“Very much.” He said without hesitation. “It is literally the whole reason why I’m here. Do you want to have kinky sex with me?”

You hesitated, getting overwhelmed by the possibilities. It was more than just stepping into uncharted territory. It was having to walk into uncharted territory wearing 10-inch high heels with absolutely no practice beforehand.

“I- I’m not still a virgin because of some plan, seeking virtue or anything. I don’t like the thought that I’m gonna meet someone who is so turned off by it and I don’t like feeling like my friends are pitying me every time it’s brought up.” You said, continuing this streak of sharing so much with him.

“We could so easily get rid of that label forever.” He said. “And I know that you don’t want to lose it to someone who’s going to treat you, your body and your pussy like it’s all made of glass.”

“No, I don’t. I don’t want someone who is gonna be so gentle and boring, you know? It should be significant, not basic and just missionary where I don’t learn anything.”

“You would learn so much from me, darling.” He said, easing his hand up and onto your thigh.

You swallowed. “I only want to kiss you ‘cause you're in my mind telling me that's what I wanna do.”

“No, I told you I'm not changing your thoughts.” He said. “I'm in your head to tell you that you can kiss me. But don't get ahead of yourself. I'm here to make a deal, you have to tell me what you want first.” 

“My wish?”

“Yes, and please don't bore me by asking for good grades. Make it something that's worth me coming all this way.” He said.

“Um… so I'll just say it and you'll tell me if you can, like, do it?” You asked.

“Mm-hmm.”

“Could you promise me success? I don't need you to give me my dream job right now, I just don't want all this hard work and shit to be for nothing.” You said, more shy to say this than some of the other exposing comments you had made to him. “I need to know that I'm not doing all this for nothing, I want to end up someplace where I'm fulfilled and-... Is that too vague, or…?”

“No, it's perfect and I can do that. I can put that into the universe for you and make sure that you get to where you wanna go, not toiling away at something beneath you.” He said. “But you have to give me your body, just for tonight, that's all I need to make your wish come true.” His hand was up quite high on your thigh now. “And if you think about it, we're taking care of two wishes: ensuring your success in the medical field and getting rid of that troublesome virginity.

“But it’s up to you, darling.” He said.

You were glad when there was a pause after this. You didn’t see yourself going through any automatic movements. It wasn’t like before where you didn’t feel the control over your body. Now you knew that you weren’t watching someone on television, this was conscious consent.

And you made the conscious effort to share it with him. There was still so much of this puzzle unsolved. The only thing you knew for sure was that this devastatingly handsome man wanted to sleep with you and holding onto that kept you from getting distracted by everything else.

You leaned forward, more of that intoxicating adrenaline fuelling you as you aimed to cross the distance between him and you. He watched you getting closer and it was so nice to know that you weren’t about to be rejected.

Your eyes went down to his lips and you weren’t thinking of the other people you had kissed before this. This would be the most significant kiss of your life.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your mouth met his. He was so warm and so firm as he instantly kissed you back. He rested each of his hands on your face and you moved closer.

You were invigorated, your heart pounding as you felt more-and-more of his body heat. You laid your open palm on his chest, feeling his hot skin through the thin, pretty material of his shirt. He tilted his head slightly and your bottom lip slipped in between both of his. As his fingers caressed your cheeks, you started to feel his tongue on your lip.

The desire was beginning to pool between your thighs, you were so aware of it. You wanted to explore everything that went with it.

He barely broke the kiss to speak. “Good girl, good fucking girl.” He kept kissing you as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and started to ease you closer. You went with this, feeling like you could melt in his embrace. As you felt more hints of his tongue, you knew you had made the right choice - you felt ready and excited.

“Do you want me to grant your wish?” He asked.

Amongst the flurry of kisses you almost didn’t want to answer, you just wanted to experience more of his mouth. You kept close, his breath still on your face as you spoke. “Yes, please yes.”

“Are you going to do whatever I say to get it?” He asked.

“Yes, yes I will.” You said, you had never felt so willing in your whole life, with very little to hold you back.

“You’re getting this needy tone in your voice that is just so sexy.” He said, his fingertips still savouring the texture and heat of your cheek. “You aren’t like the other people I meet who just want this…” His other hand had slipped under your shirt, rubbing at the small of your back. “You need it.”

“I really do, Ethan.” You said, surprising yourself with how you could just leave shame behind.

“You don’t want anyone to be too gentle, which is fucking perfect. I’m not gonna be, you and me are gonna find every one of your limits and that’s gonna be so much fun.” He said, making you smile. “But I am gonna ease you into it, we won’t start with the most intense and feral stuff.”

You looked at the face of this stranger, not seeing anything that brought you fear, you just kept feeling more intrigued. “What are we going to start with?”

“You’re gonna show me what you can do with that mouth, show me that you’re worth being my fuck doll.” He said. “You’ve got to earn the favour of my powers. Take your clothes off, you won’t need them going forward.”

You felt a lack of confidence as you began to remove your clothes, showing him more than anyone had seen before. Maybe he thought it would help to make things more even, taking off his leather jacket. You weren’t sure if you felt less uncomfortable, but looking at his impressive arms did distract you from your insecurities. As you pushed down your pants, he reached down to take off his boots. But he didn’t make any moves to remove his shirt or pants, meanwhile you were taking your panties down.

“Be a good girl now and kneel right here.” He said, pointing to a spot on the ground in front of where he sat on the couch.

You knew the tiles were going to be cold and hard on your bare knees. But you made the move anyway. Your need to prove yourself to him dulled your other thoughts down, your perceptions not quite the same as usual. He changed how he was sitting, placing both of his feet on the floor, but leaving enough room between his legs for you to fit. You placed yourself here as he started to unbuckle his belt.

“You don’t have to be nervous, darling.” He said, opening the fly of his jeans.

Your eyes were wide, with no prior experience to guide you, all that you could think to do was stare at him. This wild encounter kept unfolding and you were as daunted as you were intrigued.

“I know you’ve never sucked a cock before, so you’re gonna start with my balls.” He said, reaching a hand into his underwear. “You’re gonna worship them, put them in your mouth, cover them with so many kisses. Then when you’ve proven that you can please me, then you’ll get my cock.”

Your mouth dropped open when his cock was out and directly in front of your face. The stiff length was bigger than the toy you kept in your nightstand. You imagined that it would be quick to overwhelm you.

“Um…” Your stomach was twisting and you wondered if your excitement had given you a false sense of your capabilities. “That’s, like, really fuckin’ big.”

“I’ll teach you how to take it.” He said. He held the shaft close to the base, while his other hand played with your hair, smoothing it at a soothing tempo. It was hard for you to know where to put your eyes - did you meet his, or were you supposed to be looking at this intimidating boner?

“Don’t forget that it isn’t your starting point. My balls are first.” He said and he changed how he held it, lifting the length so that less of his balls were hidden. “You can handle those for me, can’t you? Surely you can, in exchange for the future that you want.”

You licked your lips and began to lean in, thinking about things you had seen in dirty movies. You could remember the hunger you had felt when watching those types of videos, the curiosity so strong it felt like it could burn you. You looked at the textured skin as it got closer to your face. It was easier to not think about his shaft when you wondered what his balls would taste like.

You started with a kiss, feeling the heat on your lips at once. Then you applied another kiss and another, exploring across his scrotum slowly. More of his rich, primal scent filled your nostrils.

“Tell me, have you ever called someone Daddy before?” He asked as he put his hand to the top of your head.

You looked up at him, finding him watching you very carefully. “Only as a joke.”

His fingers were no longer just lying on your head, now they had found a hold. “That’s what you’re going to call me, but neither of us will be joking.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You replied, very eager to say it and find out how it felt. It was instantly kinky and you liked how it felt.

It seemed that he liked it too, showing you a smile that made your heart flutter. Then you felt him directing your head forward again, back into his crotch. You didn’t resist, a little less intimidated than before as you wondered if you could get more than a smile from him. The word daddy floated around in your mind and you hesitated less between kisses, your lips spending more time on his skin.

Then you started to open your mouth, pushing your tongue forward to drag along him. He gripped your head harder than before and you liked the pressure. He hummed happily and you shut your eyes, one lick promptly following another.

“Don’t be afraid to put them in your mouth.” He invited.

You pushed your face closer to his scrotum and changed how you were holding your mouth. You wrapped your lips around his sac, bringing it to rest on your tongue.

It didn’t take you long to adjust, so you soon started to move your tongue. You massaged it against what filled your mouth.

“Oh yeah, you like those balls in your mouth, don’t you dirty girl?” He said.

You didn’t want to take him out of your mouth to speak. So you tried to find a different way to agree with him. You drew your cheeks in, starting to suck. You kept working your tongue and you could feel yourself getting into a groove. You could handle this.

“Keep worshipping those fuckin’ balls.” He said.

You were starting to gain confidence - maybe you could be good at sex. The sense of accomplishment pushed you onwards and you kept rubbing your tongue on his skin, lapping keenly. He was shifting in his seat and every once in a while you felt him give his cock a single, lethargic stroke.

“I think I’m gonna make you into a great fuck doll.” He said.

Why was that your instant favourite compliment you had ever received? It made your heart do a little somersault and it prompted you to mentally notice how wet your pussy felt. It was the most erotic thing you had ever heard, affecting you so deeply.

“You’re making my balls feel so fuckin’ good. Do you feel how heavy they’re getting?” He paused to groan and your thighs tensed, your own anticipation growing. “That’s all my cum and you’re gonna get all of it. It’s gonna be a lot, you’re making my balls ache with need.”

You sucked your cheeks in a little harder and he jerked your head closer. Your nose was brought flush to his skin and he held you there, with less breathing room. You saw how easy it would be to lose yourself in his pleasure as all of your senses were dominated by him. But it was exciting as you waited for his next reaction, something you couldn’t predict.

“Okay, let’s see if you can treat the shaft just as well.” He said, pulling and moving your head away.

Your mouth was emptied and you started to open your eyes. At first your eyes went to his very close tip. Then you looked up at his face, your breath remaining short.

He curled up some strands of your hair in his fist and you didn’t dare to move. “Thank me, thank me for the privilege of getting to worship my balls, baby.”

“Thank you for the privilege of worshipping your balls, Ethan.” You said, getting all of the dirty words out and feeling like you meant them.

“You liked it, didn’t you?” He asked and you were quick to nod your head. “It’s fun making me feel good, hm? You’re gonna have fun sucking my cock too, I know it. You only think that you can’t do it. But you just have to start. So how about you start? Go ahead and give the tip a kiss, hm?”

You looked down at his cock, feeling how much you were shaking. You tried to hold onto your accomplishment of successfully playing with his scrotum - if you could do that, maybe you could do this?

He held it steady and you leaned in. The skin here already shone with a bit of moisture. You kept your lips together and your eyes open.

This skin was firmer and hotter. He gripped your hair and you cautiously gave it another kiss, then another. As your heart raced, you looked up at him and he was watching you with great interest. The rising and falling of his chest seemed to be coming in quicker.

“You look good like this.” He said and you started to linger longer between kisses, growing more familiar with how his tip felt. “And I get to see it before any man.” 

“That’s right, savour it just like you were savouring Daddy’s balls.” He said and the soothing tone in his voice helped you get comfortable. “Wrap your cute lips around the tip.”

You parted your lips, drawing the crown of his cock between them in slow and sensual kisses.

Then you contributed your tongue, sliding it in an upward motion. You saw the expression on his handsome face not change, he didn’t seem unhappy with what you were doing. And so you licked him more-and-more, the taste of his skin so intimate.

“Now suck it.” He said at the same time as he eased your head forward. “Suck it like it’s the sweetest lollipop in the world.”

About an inch of his erection moved into your mouth and you kept your mouth set around him. You relaxed your tongue beneath him and started to suck, as if you were using a girthy straw. His eyelids fluttered as he let out a shaky exhale and you felt more of that motivating pride.

“Mm-hmm, I told you you could do it.” He said and you felt him guiding your head forward again. “Don’t forget this, I am always right.”

You had started to squeeze your thighs together as you continuously got more invested in his passion.

He let you feel the firmness of his grip on your head. “Come on baby, you can take more. Your mouth isn’t a virgin anymore.”

You moved with him, completely willing to remain in his control, wanting to see what would happen next. Your curiosities and interests came before any of your current needs, they were easily overpowered.

He fit more of his shaft into your mouth, the tip pushing against the roof of your mouth. Until he readjusted so that it was pointing towards your throat’s opening. You braced yourself with your hands on his thighs as you felt your heart beating harder.

Even though your mouth was getting closer to being full, you still felt like you could manage it. You shut your eyes as you concentrated on sucking, attracting no corrections from him.

Before too long, he was jerking your head further forward again. You were surprised when your lips bumped into the hand that held his shaft steady at the base. You forgot about keeping your breathing regular momentarily.

He didn’t let you adjust to this depth. You worried that you had done something wrong as he dragged your head away. But he didn’t let his cock slide free, pulling you forward before your lips could reach his tip. He repeated this motion, guiding your mouth back-and-forth on his length.

“That’s how you make Daddy feel fuckin’ good.” He said.

Both of his hands went to the top of your head as he set into a tempo of how your lips should continue to work him up-and-down. You tried to settle into this motion, your tongue rubbing consistently on his underside.

You had never felt truly used like this before and you didn’t want to recoil from it in the slightest. Your cunt was reacting to the explicit noises that he was making. You enjoyed how straight-forward everything was and you were pleased that it seemed you were rising to meet the challenge.

“Honey, that mouth is really great. You’re off to a promising start, yes you are.” He said, different tones brought out in his voice.

The rushing adrenaline made your sense of accomplishment all the more significant and it was an addictive feeling. With no room in your head for other thoughts, there was nothing to slow down your enjoyment. You could feel moisture on your thighs as you kept them clenched together.

His fingers clenched, gathering up sections of your hair. “No more easing, you’re gonna make me come now.”

He started to direct your head faster and you felt a mild pulling on your scalp. This new tempo was relentless, there were no breaks to compose yourself and you could feel wetness spilling over your lower lip.

Even more spit spread down your chin when he struck his hips up, driving the tip into your throat. You were too surprised to keep yourself from sputtering.

Your breathing caught, and there was no gaining it back, not even when he eased off from your throat, the momentum taking him to a shallower point.

But just as quickly, he was bringing your mouth down again, filling it up without hesitation.

“You’re my dirty girl now. And that’s exactly how you’re gonna take this.” He said.

He was pulling on your hair, bringing a stinging sensation now. And it didn’t seem that he was on the verge of stopping.

It had become a legitimate effort to keep up with him now, and you weren’t sure that you were doing the best job of it. But at the very least you were keeping him in your mouth. As your lungs burnt, you understood that this was a skill, which you would need to develop.

Currently, his determination seemed to make up for your inexperience. It was all good enough to keep his dick stiff as his vigour continued.

He threw his head back for a loud moan the next time his tip pushed into your throat. “Fuck, yes. Oh fuck. I’m not going to come in your mouth. No, you’re going to wear the first load you’ve ever earned.” He stroked himself back before your head was brought down just as fast. “So when I pull out, keep your eyes shut.”

That didn’t happen straight away, instead he kept up the tempo. Your ears began to ring as his movements remained just as persistent.

Then suddenly he was dragged entirely out of your mouth, which stayed hanging open. Before you could fully register this change, you were feeling something wet hit your face. You flinched and squeezed your eyes shut even tighter. It was unlike anything you had felt before: the pronounced droplets and streaks were so hot.

He took his hands off of your head one at a time, panting out your name. You felt another rope of his cum shoot onto your left cheek, making the coverage more even.

“There you go.” He said. “You can open your eyes now.”

You did this slowly, gasping for air as reality crept back in. You settled your eyes on him as you felt some of the thick liquid give in to gravity, sliding down your skin.

He looked pleased, there weren’t any lines on his face to indicate annoyance. Maybe he was on the verge of smiling as he relaxed back on your sofa. His cock was noticeably softening, no longer demanding your attention.

He put his fingers under your chin, guiding your head back. “You’re going to thank me again, thank me for this unparalleled privilege. But you’re going to thank my cock.”

You licked your lips, tasting him even more strongly. You lowered your eyes to his shaft as you remained short on breath. “Thank you, thank you for the absolute privilege of getting covered in your cum.”

“Mm, you’re welcome, darling. I knew you had great potential.” He said. “I’m glad you like giving me pleasure, it’s so very obvious that you’re enjoying this. That’s good, that’s sexy. But just like I can tell that, I can also tell that you aren’t totally in this yet. You can call it fear or insecurities, whatever it is, something in here is holding you back…”

He tapped his finger on the centre of your forehead and you furrowed your brow. But he was speaking again before you had the chance to disagree.

“I can’t fuck you until I’ve broken you out of your mind further.” He said.

Now you didn’t know how to disagree with him because you weren’t sure what he meant. You silently watched him sit back, anxiety trickling in.

His attention left you, going to where he had laid his leather jacket out. He started to look through the pockets and you remained at his feet, unwilling to get up without instruction.

He produced one bundle of red rope, then a second. This got your interest and curiosity.

But you started to question everything you were seeing as he pulled out a long, metal rod. It was taller than him, there was no way it could have been hidden until now. It had a small, grippy-style foot at one end and he put this on the floor, resting the pole against the couch. Once he was content that it wasn’t going to fall, he went back to the jacket and soon another rod was appearing.

“Wait, wait, how are you doing that?” You asked.

This new pole looked like it was the same length as the first as he pulled it free. He glanced at you then back at the object. “Oh, right. My jacket is what you might call magic, in that I can pull almost anything out of the pockets.

“Almost anything.” He said as he rested the pole with its twin. Then he picked up the jacket and brought it even closer for you to see. But you were just as confused because it appeared to be nothing but limp leather. “I can’t get something living from it, so don’t think about asking for a bunny. I also can’t use it to produce something as big as a house or a car.

“But within those limitations, there’s a lot I can do.” He said, his hand going into the average-sized pocket and you saw the top of another rod. “It’s a little incubus trick that always keeps things easy for me.”

You watched as he pulled out more-and-more, still not fully believing your eyes. “Could I get anything from it?”

“Nope, they would work as regular pockets for you, my pretty little thing. It only works for demons, so it would do you no good to steal it for yourself.” He said in a casual tone as he got the end of this third rod free.

“I wasn’t even thinking of… what are those?” You asked.

“I’m gonna make a temporary frame.” He said as he stood up. His first action was to take down his pants and briefs, freeing his legs entirely. Then he stepped out of your personal space and started to gather up these rods. “You’re gonna learn a little something about shibari, specifically suspension shibari.”

Images you had seen online were brought to the forefront of your mind as you heard the pronunciation of this word for the first time.

You watched as he started the assembly. Towards the top of each rod was a small divot, a spot for one to securely attach to another. They fitted together with some clicks, forming the top of a triangle.

He got the apparatus standing upright, it was tall enough for him to stand under. He made adjustments to how the rubber-padded ends rested on the ground, they looked like they were evenly spaced out.

The tripod didn’t waver or wobble. You accepted what was seemingly your only option and gave him more of your trust that you weren’t about to be injured.

He collected up the rope and got to work with that. It would have been easy for you to get distracted by his nudity, your eyes moving away from the rope every so often. You tried to only look at his cock when he seemed distracted enough to not notice and your thoughts rushed with every glance.

He secured the rope around the tops of the rods with some knots, the tail of this rope freely hanging down. It remained unattached to anything because when he picked up the second bundle of rope, his attention went to you.

He beckoned for you to stand up and you hurried to do so, facing him. There was something about having your exposed body this close to him that kept you from fully catching your breath.

The rope wasn’t rough against your bare skin as he started to wind it around you, just beneath your bust. He created a band by wrapping it around you four times, tight without letting it dig into you.

This was affixed with a knot behind your back. Then he progressed to making a second band, this one going over your navel. He stood behind you as he tied more knots into the rope.

There was some length left over, which he allowed to dangle, brushing against the backs of your thighs.

He returned to the enchanted leather jacket and you saw more rope come from the pocket. He unwound this bundle as he looked you up-and-down - planning rather than judging.

“Kneel.” He said and you quickly lowered yourself down, returning your unprotected knees to the cold tiles. Even though his cock was now directly in front of your face, you endeavoured to not get caught up in just staring at it. You lifted your eyes, meeting his gaze.

“Raise your arms above your head, yep.” He said, stepping to place himself behind you. “Now reach down like you’re trying to grab the back of your neck, but on opposite sides.”

You bent your elbows and crossed one wrist over the other at the back of your head. He was completely out of your sight as he started to tie your wrists together.

To keep you from changing the position of your arms, he created a new bind. He looped the rope from your wrist to your bicep, then copied it on the other arm. He ensured its preservation by tying more firm knots. The restriction made you feel vulnerable, but that wasn’t a negative experience.

Once this was complete, he walked around to stand in front of you again. He studied you, a serious look on his face. “Any pain, pretty little thing?”

“No, it’s fine.” You said.

“Great, then I’ll keep going.” He said before lowering himself down to sit on the ground in front of you. He tapped your right leg. “Extend this leg out.”

Your centre of gravity felt off, but you managed to make this shift without falling. Then he was on you with a new length of rope, wrapping it around your thigh this time.

He created a couple of bands, then extended the end of the rope back and behind you. He moved, leaving your sight as he kneeled behind you. You tried to picture what he was doing as there was a slight tug on the rope that wrapped around your thigh. The length remained tense and soon he was attaching it to the main knot resting on your back.

“Very nice.” He said, his voice just as smooth, but less warm than before. “Stand for me.”

“Um…” 

As you placed your right foot firmly on the ground, you were already imagining yourself falling over. You pictured dark red droplets on the tiles after your nose smacked into it.

You lifted your ass and leaned your body weight forward, allowing you to move your left leg now. You got this foot set on the ground too and started to push yourself up. Cautiously, you kept your knees bent.

He watched instead of offering his assistance and you feared that you were about to be chided for taking too long. As you straightened your back, you found the rope on your thigh pulling. You brought some give to the rope by lifting your right foot from the ground, letting it hover as you found this less uncomfortable.

“How is that? Are you feeling like a helpless little bug stuck in a spiders’ web yet?” He asked.

“That’s a very appropriate way to put it, yes.” You said.

He came closer, smirking as he stood in front of you. “But that isn’t a bad thing, is it? I actually think that you don’t mind it at all.”

You tried your best to maintain steady eye contact, even as you couldn’t help swaying a little. “You’re right.”

He placed his fingers under your chin as he got closer again, his eyes briefly going down to your mouth. “Because you want to surrender to me, don’t you, dirty girl?”

Your breath was coming in much faster and you were practically counting down the seconds until he next kissed you. “Yes, I do.”

Your eyes fluttered shut and the powerful anticipation prompted you to part your lips. You were able to stop thinking about the strain in your limbs. Even when he took his hand away from you, you remained locked in your hopes.

“Over here now.”

When you opened your eyes, it was to find him standing next to the super-sized tripod. You had to twist and change your posture to walk over to him. And even then, it was more of a strange shamble across the floor.

“Stand in the centre.” He instructed.

You made more of your awkward shuffles until you were standing under the apparatus. He joined you, placing himself behind you. He was doing something to the rope harness around your chest, making adjustments that shifted it about, without compromising any of its security. He was silent as he completed his task.

Without any warning, you felt the binds tense and pull upwards. Your feet left the ground, getting higher-and-higher to the sounds of his little grunts of effort. Your stomach twisted as another aspect of bodily control was taken from you. It was thrilling (and intimidating) to see your feet dangling a few inches above the floor, all the while knowing you could do nothing to get down.

Then your right leg was yanked even higher as he pulled at the rope attached to your thigh again. Your thigh was pulled away from the other and kept like this as he kept the rope taut. He tied it to something new, the line that hung directly from the apparatus. You bent your knee, trying to settle into this unusual position. He got it all secured and then he took a few steps back, surveying his handiwork.

“Sweet girl…” He said, wandering back into your field of vision. “This suits you so much better than the whole studious virgin thing you had going on.”

Some strands of his dark hair had come loose from the bun, now framing his face. His eyes moved so thoroughly over your body as a small smile pulled at his cheek.

He nodded to himself and stepped away, going back to the couch. You watched as he picked his jacket up again, going for the magical pocket.

You were rushing with adrenaline and partially you started to think of all of the things that could go wrong - the amount of ways you could be injured wasn't getting any smaller.

When he turned around again, you saw that he held a leather paddle in his hand. “Are you ready for Daddy to break you out of your mind?”

You gulped audibly. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He walked over, letting you feel the paddle by rubbing it against your raised thigh. There was no sharpness at first. You stared back as he fixed his eyes on yours. Again, you wondered about mind control.

You lost the competition, your eyes snapping shut when he slapped the paddle onto your pubic mound. It was like a little explosion of heat - the kind of heat that felt alive because of the tingles it brought with it. As your breath caught, you tried to determine if you had enjoyed the sensation.

“Ooh, is that so sensitive? Is that just so needy, swelling with blood and getting so wet?” He asked, holding the firm toy against your pussy. “Hm, is it, honey?”

You forced your eyes open as he tapped it on your labia. “Yea- yes, I don’t think I’ve ever been this needy before in my life.”

He slapped the toy against your thigh, making you wince. “And yet, I’m going to make you even needier.”

“Thank you.”

He gave your other thigh a hit before walking around, going beyond your view again. “Now, when I first showed this to you, you probably assumed I would use it to spank your ass, hm?” You jerkily nodded your head and your answer was met with him striking your ass. “That’s what most people would do if given this…”

A series of spanks was inflicted upon each cheek, bringing a glow to your ass. It hurt more every time, keeping you paying attention to only this.

“But I’m not most people.” He said, stepping in front of you. “And I know that the fun of spanking doesn’t have to be limited to ass.”

Your eyes grew wide as he flicked the paddle up. Your body shook and your thoughts were fragmented as you tried to guess where he would hit you next.

When he whacked it against your breast, the sensation ripped right through you. Your stiff nipple hurt the most, the pain much sharper here. But it stung everywhere that the toy had hit.

This skin was still prickling when he took the paddle away, swatting your other tit. You gasped, keenly aware of the feeling of your nerves fraying.

Each of your nipples throbbed as he kept spanking, alternating from one breast to the other. There was a fire in his eyes and he didn’t appear to tire - just as impassioned each time.

Before you could reach that point where it was too much, he stopped. You were left reeling, your mind blank.

“Do you like that?” He asked.

You were gasping for air, it couldn’t be denied that you were feeling invigorated. There was a lot to enjoy about the adrenaline dominating your system. “Yes, Daddy.”

“I don’t know why I asked. I can see by this ridiculously wet pussy that you’re liking it.” He said.

You squirmed but there wasn’t any way to cover yourself. You simply had to remain exposed to him.

“I didn’t forget about it and how needy it is.” He said, putting a hand to your pussy. You wordlessly whined when you felt him push your folds back. “I’ll give it all of the attention it needs…” He slowly laid the toy against your skin. “And then some more after that.”

He struck you, the paddle hitting directly on your exposed clitoris. It was a complete shock and your heart did a somersault, then launched into your throat. You were reminded of the intensity of orgasms in that split second.

You flinched, little squeaks falling from your mouth when he repeatedly tapped it against this spot. The pleasure was fast, you knew if it were more sustained it would entirely blow your mind.

He switched back to using the toy to spank you, using a decent amount of strength each time. There wasn’t enough time between strikes for you to recover, so you remained trapped in this state of hyper-awareness and hyper-sensitivity. You weren’t forming any complete thoughts, your mind preoccupied by these grand, continuous reactions.

“Fuck.” You burst out, feeling like you could feel your heartbeat in your clitoral hood after the most recent slap.

And it wasn’t the last. You were getting intoxicated on this combination of pleasure and pain. One accelerated the other, their power never failing.

When he eased the paddle away, you continued to feel its effects. A strong heat radiating out from your cunt. It twitched and throbbed through what felt like aftershocks.

“That’s better than me just tapping this thing on your ass, hm?” He asked.

“Fuck yes, it is.” You said.

He snapped his fingers and you lifted your head a little. “Look at me now, baby.”

Amongst all of the rushing sensations, you tried to give your concentration to him. “Yes, Ethan.”

He gave you a long look. “It’s starting to look pretty empty behind those eyes.”

“Yes, Ethan.” You replied.

He continued to study your eyes, confirming something to himself. “No thoughts, no fears, no questions, no worries, no insecurities, just pleasure.”

“Am I broken out of my mind yet?” You asked.

“You tell me.”

“I…” You felt the lack of inhibitions, the lack of shame and you started nodding. “Yes Ethan, I think I am.”

“I think I agree. But there's one way to get to the truth, a taste test.” He said and your throat tightened.

He began to get lower, lining himself up with your pussy. You were holding your breath as you watched him, preemptively feeling the pleasure of what was to come next.

He maintained that intense eye contact with you as he opened his mouth. He moved closer and you felt his warm breath on this already scorching hot area. Then there was his tongue, wet and firm as it dragged along your slit.

It felt like all of the pleasure in your body finally had a place to land and it was the start of an exciting relief. He slowly dragged his tongue back-and-forth, seemingly seeing no reason to rush.

With your chest heaving, you were poised to feel him move inside. And you knew that would be the point when the pleasure exploded inside of you.

But he took his mouth off of you instead of going deeper. You froze, confused on such a deep level.

“Yeah, I think you’ve successfully been broken out of that chaotic little prison of your mind.” He said, resting his hands on your thighs as he looked up at you. “Now, do you know how to control your orgasm? If I say you aren’t allowed to come until I’m done counting down: can you do that?”

“Um, I think so.” You said.

“Only one way to find out. I’m going to count from five to zero, and when I say zero that’s the moment that you come. But not before that.” He explained.

Words failed you so you just nodded. Internally, you panicked because controlling your orgasm while you had absolutely no control over your body seemed like an impossible feat. But you had to try for him.

He lined himself up with your pussy again, half of his face disappearing from your sight. Before saying any numbers, he extended his tongue to your entrance.

It felt like a long time before he started to count. You heard five and you curled your hands into fists as you tried to steady yourself.

But the sensations kept getting more intense, thanks to his tongue quickly swirling around your entrance. He said four, then you felt his tongue move inside a little. He kept swirling at this shallow point and your tummy clenched. You heard him say three and you started to get excited for your release.

The anticipation was crushing on your chest. But when he said two, you thought you would be able to make it.

“One.” He said after slurping noisily.

You were holding your breath as he plunged his tongue inside, to thoroughly rub it against the walls of your pussy. You felt like you were ready to float away with the pleasure.

But zero didn’t come. Instead he retracted his tongue, your pussy uselessly clenching as he repositioned.

His hands went to your butt, holding each cheek as he eased them apart. You drew in a series of shaky breaths, you were so confused and unsettled.

You felt the smooth wetness of his tongue glide across your hole. This unique experience was like a jolt through your system, surprising you enough that you didn’t know how to react.

He stroked his tongue back the other way and moaned. “Mm, virgin asshole, what a rare delicacy.”

He repeatedly licked at this secret spot. When he began to ease his tongue inside, your eyes fluttered shut. It wasn’t like anything you had felt before. The pleasure was deep, but less intense - it would need to be built upon. And it seemed that was what he intended to do, finding a new way to make you float.

The paddle was brought back to your attention when he slapped it against your pussy. He spanked it onto you repeatedly, too fast for you to recover between strikes. You were rapidly climbing up to that edge again.

It was a wonderful combination. His tongue firmly in your hole felt like it could lead to an orgasm, you were floating. But the paddle hitting you made you want to explode into your orgasm. The sharp and the sensual danced together, bringing out more need.

You were given a break from the flogging. He dragged his tongue from your asshole to your pussy. Your entire body was responding as he repeated this motion, getting into a lovely rhythm. You began to think your release was possible as this consistent pleasure took you away from feeling like a person - you were becoming nothing more than a throbbing need.

“Ethan?” You feebly began. “Aren’t you gonna finish counting?”

“Hm?” He hummed as he took his mouth off of you. “I guess I hadn’t considered it.” You bit into your lower lip, hard. “Are you saying that you could come from this?”

“Ye- ah.” You were entirely shocked when he swiftly plunged his tongue into your ass again. As your whole body clenched, he resumed his licking from one hole to the other. “Yes, please. Please Daddy, please.”

He briefly interrupted his flow to speak. “You could come like this?”

“Yes, yes. Please, yes.” You whined.

He stopped licking, now repositioning so that he could stand in front of you. You stared back at him, lost of how to react, only knowing that patience was currently beyond your limited capabilities.

“No, no, not like that. I need to see your face as you’re coming. That’s the kind of stuff Daddy likes.” He said.

Even more of his hair had come free from the tie, giving you a physical representation of how all of this effort was affecting him.

“So you’re getting very close, hm?” He asked.

You nodded as you panted heavily. You were so primed that orgasming was literally all you could think about.

“You were telling me I had the wrong house. But now look at the desperate mess you’ve become.” He said, standing close enough that you could feel his body heat. “All because of me. What a spectacular transformation.”

Your wait was concluded by him spanking your pussy with the toy. Then he turned it around, freeing the handle and holding it by the paddle.

You didn’t know what he was doing, until the handle’s rounded end was applied to your cunt. He pushed it firmly against you then manoeuvred it down, touching it to your clit.

Your throat clenched as he kept it there. Maintaining the pressure, he moved it up-and-down on the hood. You were immediately moaning, dazzled by the sensations this brought.

“Where was I up to?” He wondered aloud. Then he spoke before you could answer. “Hm, I totally forgot. I guess I’ll start over- five.”

He worked the handle consistently against your clit, making you violently tremor all over. As he slowly counted, he grabbed you by your chin. In the brief seconds when you managed to open your eyes, you saw the intense way he was watching you, not missing a single reaction.

“Two.” He reached and you began to get yourself ready to let it all go.

Trying to keep the climax back felt like you were attempting to hold fire in your hands, as a safety precaution. The energy wouldn’t stay contained for long, it was too volatile for that. And as you held it, you were still getting a little burnt.

“One.” He calmly said.

“Please Ethan, please, please…” It was an effort to get these words out due to how tight your throat was clenching. But you persisted, because you needed his mercy. “Please, please, Ethan please, please.”

He didn’t say a word as he took the toy’s handle away from you. The next sound came from you - you wailed when he spanked your clit.

You thought that if he said zero in that moment, you would have been able to come as the sensations of that hit reverberated through your system. They were powerful enough to take you down.

But the number didn’t come. When you opened your eyes, you realised that you hadn’t missed him saying it. He had simply left the room without saying it.

You didn’t know where he had gone. As your thoughts raced, your breath continued to come in faster than usual.

You checked around as much as you could manage, but you could only see his belongings. Not being touched felt so much worse than any of the pain from the paddle. The absence was crueller than his excessive teasing.

You were still short on breath when he re-entered the room, with a full glass of water in hand. Even out of his presence you hadn’t been able to relax, you had found no reason to do so.

He hadn’t fixed his hair yet. He approached you, brow furrowing. “What’s wrong with you? Why are you panting like a dog?”

“I dunno, I’m not doing it on purpose. I guess I’m just too worked up to catch my breath.” You said, feeling the labour in your lungs.

“Well I don’t need you hyperventilating and passing out.” He said. “Hanging like that isn’t going to impede you from doing breathing exercises with me, is it?”

“I don’t think so.” You said.

He had a drink. “Okay, let’s slow it down. You’re going to watch me take a deep breath and you’re going to do the same. Okay, inhale…”

“But, Ethan…” You said and he frowned. “I need to come.”

“No. What you need to do is calm down and take some deep breaths.” He said.

“But I can’t calm down right now.” You said. “You don’t understand-...”

He grabbed your chin, staring you down in a serious fashion. “You can and you will. And you’ll feel better for it. Okay, inhale through your nose…”

You copied him but your inhale was shakier than his. You held your breath when he did, but you exhaled much quicker.

He started to caress his hand along the side of your face and you let yourself be comforted by this. “Stop freaking out.” He spoke slowly to keep up this tempo of breathing. “Come back to yourself, baby. And when you do, you’ll find it makes everything feel better.”

The feeling of frenzy died off from inside of you as you improved at matching his breaths. Less of your body was stinging. Overall, you felt more sane as you watched his chest expand around another deep breath.

“See? You don’t have to tell me that I was right, because I already know that.” He said. “Water?”

“Yes, please.”

He raised the glass to your lips and carefully tipped it. The water was so smooth on your scratchy throat. Added to everything else, you were properly refreshed.

He stroked your cheek. “Do you want Daddy to let you down?”

“No, thank you.”

He helped you to have another sip before he moved to place the glass down.

When he came back, he ran his hands up-and-down your sides as he stared deeply in your eyes. “Now, let’s get to that other pressing priority of yours: you need to come.”

You didn’t care that he was mocking you. You nodded.

One of his hands went to your cheek and he drew in for a kiss. There was less to distract you, allowing you to enjoy these kisses more.

“Poor little tied up thing, you are about to get so used.” He said, and this comment registered clearly in your pussy, making it flutter.

He wrapped an arm around your waist and pressed himself to your chest as he resumed kissing you. You were looking forward again. The new taste on his lips hinted at what was ahead of you.

You interrupted before he could guide his tongue between your lips. “Ethan, I’m not gonna get pregnant, am I?”

“No, I don’t make sperm. That’s a human thing, it would be totally pointless for me.” He said.

“Oh, okay.” You said.

“Don’t worry about anything.” He said, trailing his fingertips along your spine. “Just concentrate on feeling good, darling.”

He kissed you and as you kept in rhythm with him, you felt into his body more. Now that you were calmer, you could properly feel the silent communication between your bodies.

You wrapped your free leg around his waist when he began to grind against you. All of those excited tingles came rushing back in. The intimacy allowed you to return to that state of receptiveness, making the connection of your bodies feel so significant.

“Don’t be an idiot and hold your breath.” He ordered as he rubbed his dick on your slit. “Keep taking those deep breaths, as much as you can.”

You were staring at his lips as you nodded. “Okay.”

He moved his hand to your ass, gripping you here as he applied himself to you with more pressure. This firm tempo was bringing the throbbing of your pussy back at full force. Wet sounds were accompanying his movements.

“Tell me, what’s Daddy about to do?” He asked.

Your cunt was already eagerly clenching. “Take my virginity.”

“Uh-huh, and…?” He prompted.

“Give me my wish.” You said.

“That’s right. Now be a good girl and let Daddy in.”

Your attention immediately wanted to relocate from your breathing rate when you felt the head of his dick working you open. He eased the length in, making you feel a stretch different to anything experienced before. Your heart moved up into your throat again, your excitement so ready to overflow.

He moved slowly at filling you up. He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a quick exhale. Lines formed on his face, showing you his determination.

“Fuck, that is really tight.” He said, puffing out another sharp breath.

You were feeling a little amazed that it was fitting inside. The pressure brought more blood pumping into this area, making you feel even more tender. As his hips gradually came closer to yours, your pussy kept adjusting to accommodate him.

He stopped before getting the entire shaft inside of you. “Cazzo, that is next-level tight and it’s so, so good. I’m definitely gonna have to come in this pussy.”

You were getting used to this feeling of fullness when he started to thrust. Between your walls, he smoothly moved himself back-and-forth. His tip massaged against you in the most intimate fashion. This brought new sensitivities to the forefront of your mind, dazzling you as they promised to take you to climax.

It didn’t take him long to establish a tempo, one plunge confidently following the next. It felt better than the teasing, now all of your tingles were lingering and reaching deeper. At the core of your being, you were getting ready to fall apart for him.

“Sweet girl, please tell me that you haven’t changed your mind, and now you want a gentle fuck.” He said.

“No.”

“That’s very good. Because it would be literally impossible for me to hold back when you feel this amazing around me.” He explained.

As he picked up the pace, you couldn’t help feeling so flattered. It was incredible (you probably wouldn’t have believed it at the start) that you could bring him to the point of losing control too. You felt even more connected to this stranger, feeling like the passion was so mutual. 

“Ethan, are you gonna do another countdown?” You asked.

“No, no more of that. I’m just gonna tell you when I want you to come. And when I say it, you better do it.” He said.

“Okay.” You said, nodding through all of the surging sensations.

You were filled with the most luxurious warmth. The tingles had been replaced by jolts - unpredictable and exciting, they accompanied you on this climb to the peak.

Eventually he could work all of his generous shaft into you, plunging straight for your sweet spot. Your tummy clenched and you were in disbelief over how marvellous it felt. It was what everything had been building towards, and it was better than anything that had come before.

It felt like your nerves were on fire, even when he was rocking his body weight back. Your efforts to keep your breath were now being painted with whines - the desperation you felt was impossible to hide.

The excitement only made the clenching of your inner-walls more powerful, an involuntary clamping around his length. This squeezing didn’t impede his momentum. Instead it added to the intensity, inspiring him to go even faster.

“Fuck, you’re getting me there, sweet girl.” He said as you twitched and kept losing more of yourself. “Are you close?”

Your body was full of earthquakes, the strongest one yet made you cry out before you could answer him. “Yes, so fucking close. Oh, ah…”

“Let it happen. Surrender it to me…” He ordered and you found the feeling of him driving into you slightly changed. There was an extra heat, something that felt like splashing. “Surrend-uh, um, oh fuck.”

This new sensation continued, allowing you to identify it as his cock unloading into you. You savoured the feeling of him marking you so deep.

He drove himself the whole way forward one last time, delivering him to your sweet spot. And he stayed there, grinding on you as you clenched up, every muscle tensing.

Then you started to rupture. On every possible level, you were overwhelmed by the pleasure.

Soon the satisfaction took you away and you transcended absolutely everything. You didn’t feel the ropes restricting you, you didn’t feel him. You could feel only bliss, like a white light guiding you.

You accepted the tiredness as it seeped in, exacerbating how weak you were. You kept your eyes shut, even as you felt your body gently being jostled around.

Before you had the chance to notice the change, you felt yourself being laid on something soft. You opened your eyes to discover that you were back in your bedroom. You could freely move your limbs about again. You were still naked, and so was the man in the room with you.

Ethan didn’t join you on the bed and you got the impression that now was the time to take your last looks at him. You curled onto your side, moving back to almost the same position you had been in when he had awoken you by knocking on the door.

“If I go into your bathroom, will I find some kind of washcloth, to get that load off of your face?” He asked, speaking with no edge to his tone.

“Yeah, it’s the last-”

He cut off your instructions before you could properly get started. “I know where it is.”

Once he was gone, you redirected your gaze to where you kept a bottle of water on the nightstand. With a tender arm, you reached out and collected it.

You got distracted before you could have a sip, your eyes going to the alarm clock’s glowing numbers. 3.33.

Assuming it was broken, you sought the second opinion of the clock on your phone. You picked up the device and activated the screen, just for it to report the exact same time. This was confusing, but you weren’t alert enough to try to figure out the how or why.

Ethan returned, a damp cloth in hand. He crouched down beside your bed and began to gently wipe at your face.

“How do you feel, honey?” He asked. His gaze was just as intense as before.

And you were blushing. “Distinctly un-virginal.”

“You just stay where you are. I don’t need you to show me to the door, or anything.” He said, working the cloth over your entire face.

“So that’s it, then?” You asked.

“Yep. I will get my shit together and just disappear into the night.” He said. “Wham, bam, you can thank me, ma’am.”

“How do I know the deal is officially done?” You asked.

“For fuck’s sake, can’t you just take my word for it? I don’t have a receipt you can keep.” He said.

“Okay.”

“We didn’t sign a contract on paper. We signed it with our bodies.” He said.

“Right, and that’s a very new concept for me. But I’ll try to remember that.” You said.

He was smirking as he finished cleaning the dried cum off of your face. “I don’t think you’ll have any trouble remembering every part of this night.” He got to his feet. “Now, rest.”

You watched as he began to leave the room. Even though you knew that you had to let him go, you worried that all of the good you were feeling would go with him. “Goodbye, Ethan.”

He turned off the light on his way out and you kept watching, until he was entirely gone from your sight. You drank some water, listening to the noises of him preparing to depart. It was ending, the only way for your mood to go was down.

You heard the front door close behind him. Now the green numbers on the clock read 3.34.

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🍑taglist: @bethanysnow - @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @icarodamiano  - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @chocolatepizzatyrant - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 - @adoredamianos - @vittoriaisfuckingpathetic - @gay-for-victoria-de-angelis - @shinshans - @lonnybunnys - @lyricalliz - @chemical-killjoy [join here!]

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reflections from you? ---- does the suspension frame fit back into his jacket? (or does he leave it at her house?) - will she tell her friends? - did she make the right wish? - favourite nickname he called her? - will she try to summon him a second time?

[asheurbanipal]

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

on A03

<<Previous

Summary:

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

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: ~10k

Chapter 2/2 in series

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

Chapter 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Don't tell them, Scott."

"Storm?" 

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

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

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

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

#####

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

"Logan…"

"We'll meet up in Vegas." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, muscle memory. Delightful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh those asssshoollleeesss.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What 'this?'" 

"This self-deprecation thing."

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

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

Oh. I hadn't considered that. 

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

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

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

motherfucker's telepathic

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

"How are you so sure?" Wade asked. 

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

No wonder I'm in love with this man.

#####

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

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

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

It was less than useful. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then why did you get them?"

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

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

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

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

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

"I didn't look." 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"None of these are sexy," Wade declared. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The next photo was a couple hours later.

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

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

"Oh, I am an artist, " Wade decided. 

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

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

"Kinda wanted to drive through."

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

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

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

"Yay!"

#####

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

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

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

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

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

fuck fuck fuck

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

Calm the fuck down. 

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

"No, go ahead." 

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

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

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

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

"Who were we hiding them from?"

"Ourselves?"

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

"It's a theory," Wade said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

He's sexy when he's thinking.  

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

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

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

"Excuse me?" 

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

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

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

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

What the fuck , dude?

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

fuckin' 

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

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

Fucking ass.

He started toward the door. 

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

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

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

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

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

The organization of this is all over the place. 

Why do I kind of understand it, though?

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

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

Fuck you.

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

FUCK YOU. 

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

oh hoh hoh hoh 

I'm absolutely reading this bitch.

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

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

Oh fuck. 

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

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

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

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

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

"Logie, I have found the juciest clue!"

……

Logan?

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

#####

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hey Toad-face-

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

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

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

"Fuck it." 

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

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

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

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

A marriage license. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Weird choice," Wade decided. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who told you this?"

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

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

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

Wade's body froze underneath him. 

"No…no no no." 

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

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

#####

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

Married married married married. 

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

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

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

"A while."

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

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

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

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

"That's a fuck of a memory."

I kinda like it. That's…that's sexy. 

I want to fuck this man SO HARD. 

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

married married married. 

Logan squeezed his ass.

"Let's get going." 

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

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

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

"You don't think we actually are?" 

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

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

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

no no no no no.

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

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

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

bored bored bored bored

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe I'm a gerontophile.

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

G-e-r….a?

That's not right. 

A small chapel slunk by them in the distance. 

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

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

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

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

"Can we get drunk?"

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

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

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

"I mean, infinite universes and whatever but…"

"...that spark, though…"

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

"You make it sound like trauma bonding."

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

"Yeah but…"

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

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

Then it got weird. I remember. Holy shit. 

All the questions we had no idea how to answer. 

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

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

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

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

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

#####

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

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

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

"Good enough for me."

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But you remember us," Wade pointed out. 

"Fair," admitted the guard.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," Wade said. 

"Surviving," Logan added. 

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

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

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

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

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

Wade dropped the binder on the counter. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The screen versions of them bickered some more. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, sounds like us," Wade sighed. 

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

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

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

"Yeah." Wade shifted on his own feet. 

"Well did it work?" Charlotte asked.

"What do you mean?" Logan responded. 

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

Logan rubbed his hand along the back of his neck. 

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

Charlotte made a face at that but let him continue.

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

"Oh, I know I did," Wade agreed. 

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

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

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

#####

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

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

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

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

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

He looked so tired . 

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

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

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

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

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

"Holy fuck they have bathbombs." 

holy fuck glitter

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

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

uhhhhhhh?!? 

fuck fuck

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

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

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

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

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

His dick has been in my mouth. 

My dick has been in his mouth. 

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

calm the fuck down 

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

hands touching, knuckles brushing

blades in my body, me begging for it

pressing inside me, thrusting hard, over and over

his soft, pulsing insides

teeth on flesh and flesh on teeth

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

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

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

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

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

Logan rolled his face into Wade's neck. 

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

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

inside me

inside him

hard against hard, soft against soft, hard against soft

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"So you agree we're soul mates? "

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

fuck shit fuck fuck. 

It is so fucked up how good that feels.

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

"No, I'm…I'm good…" 

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

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

This feels…feels….feels…

…different…

soft and hard, hard and soft

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

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

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

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

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck

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

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

"Peanut. The claws."

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

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

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

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

#####

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

"I'm spent, babe," Logan said. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wade lifted up and pecked him on the lips. 

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

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

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

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

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

#####

When we get married. Not if. When. 

when when when when when when

When.   

[thecouchshifter]

Hazbin Hotel NSFT HCs

Husker

He’s a service top and probably the biggest on checking boundaries and aftercare, like more than Charlie and Vaggie. His biggest priority is making sure whoever he’s with has a good and safe time. He’s got experience and he knows how to make anyone feel good. Also whenever someone calls him a manlet he will remind them that height doesn’t matter when you’ve got them on their knees anyway.

Charlie and Vaggie

Put them as a duo because who else are they boning? As a general note, they’re both switches and Charlie is the more experienced one of the two, though mostly with men. They’re generally pretty vanilla but have some light kinks and sometimes do some roleplay.

Vaggie loves a good strap, pulling Charlie’s hair, and biting when topping/domming and has a fucking insane praise kink when bottoming/subbing. Also likes the fact Charlie is taller than her in both (shadow of the colossus type shit or being absolutely towered over). Uses princess or doll to refer to Charlie while domming and generally uses ma’am or my queen while subbing.

Charlie is super soft and romantic when topping/domming and absolutely has to touch and kiss everywhere. When subbing/bottoming, she likes some soft under the bed restraints, maybe a blindfold every once in a while, and has a bit of a mommy kink. Either way she likes setting the scene with some candles and flower petals because she’s extra like that. Has a big praise kink too that goes both ways. Uses sweetheart and more recently little angel when domming to refer to Vaggie and when subbing pretty much exclusively uses mommy. Has one very pretty old school lingerie set that she will whip out when she really wants to impress Vaggie.

Nifty

There’s no polite way to say it, she’s a fucking freak. Doesn’t matter how you do it she’s gonna do some crazy shit to you or ask you to do some crazy shit to her. Crazy on masochism and sadism in particular. 90% of the bad boys she plays with get scared after the first time and she quickly loses interest after that. Such is the way of Nifty.

Sir Pentious

He prefers romance to sex but if it helps him bond with a partner he’ll do it. Sadly, nobody has actually stayed with him past the first date before. He’s a hopeless romantic but hopes one day he’ll find someone who loves him for him. If he did bone, he’d be really awkward about it and not really know what he was doing but inconceivably keep falling upward and in the end do a really good job. After the fact he’d need a solid 20 minutes to recover while just laying there in shock before thanking his partner profusely.

Cherri Bomb

She has fucked a lot of ways and is generally open to trying anything. Has a few utterly bizarre kinks and fetishes. Not even particularly disturbing just very oddly specific. Like fleshlight between the legs while a replica dildo of her partner’s dick fucks her and their real dick fucks the fleshlight type strange.

Angel Dust

I mean sure he’s down for pretty much anything but slow, romantic, vanilla sex is his fucking kryptonite. He doesn’t get it in the studio or god forbid with Val, so when he does he’s surprised for a minute before he gets completely lost in his partner’s eyes. Don’t get me wrong he loves kinky shit, especially bondage, but getting back to basics is such a treat for him. Very into body worship for a similar reason. Boy just wants to feel loved. Has a set of lingerie for every occasion

Alastor

“Ha! No.”

Vox likes to think of him as a massive sub tho.

Lucifer

He’s a switch that will absolutely commit to the bit if he’s doing any kind of roleplay or D/S stuff. This man is a grade A actor to the point where Lilith was worried on several occasions as to if he was possessed. He has had millennia to perfect his technique and you will find no soul in hell bar maybe Asmodeus who knows how to use all the tools at his disposal better than him. Has a bit of a ringmaster/circus fantasy and has referred to Lilith as his little acrobat multiple times. Lilith also gets a bit worried when Lucifer is horny because it usually means he hasn’t taken his depression meds. Calls Lilith goddess a lot too.

[mageofseven]

Okay first off, I wanna say sorry for how long it took me to get to this! I had intended to get to this quickly, but I got too focused and inspired with my ship series' I've been writing.

Better late than never though, right? 😅

Reminder for others that this continues off of this post. Since that post is from a point before I started writing for Mephisto, sadly my sweet noble tsundere won't be in here.

Now let's get started~

•▪︎▪︎◇°●♡●°◇▪︎▪︎•

Okay so I would like to start by organizing these men into their roles. Those who hovered, those who didn't but still were actively by her side and taking cave of her, those who took care of the pregnancy related issues not directly attached to MC's being (scheduling doctors appointments, paying bills, retrieving any med or vitamins she needs, etc.), those who heavily carried her via emotional support, those who accidentally would make her feel worse, and those who had a way of making her destress as if nothing has changed, maybe some others if I think of more as I go.

After this, I will continue with the story of her pregnancy and how the men discover and react tor her carrying multiples. Unlike most of my pregnant MC stories though, I'm not going to give her some huge risk in this one. She...well, the poor woman is already under enough stress as it is 😅

~

The Major Hoverers:

Lucifer- No surprise here. This man is...well, he is stressed and anxious in general, but to see his love so anxious and in low spirits while knowing he himself might be a dad once more in the coming months...it's just a lot for this poor man. Does his very best to make sure nothing goes wrong and that MC is as comfort and healthy as possible.

Mammon- This dude is fucking terrified of screwing this up. He doesn't know if this is his kid or not and at this point, he can't let himself even think about it or he'll just get even more nervous. Right now, his Human is the priority and he's gotta take care of her--and try not to fuck up in the process.

Active Caretakers, but They Chill:

Simeon: Even once it finally occurs to this man that this child could be genetically his, he doesn't freak out; he simply doubles down. His Feather doesn't need him bringing her more anxiety after all.

Asmo: This sweet man is constantly giving her massages and whispering sweet words in her ears. Yes, his poor Dolly is very achy and emotional from the pregnancy, but he does his very best to make it easier on her!

Beel: Regardless of what he's eating or how much he has left, he will always offer some of his food to her. He can also often be found with his hand on her belly in some fashion, especially when she is the most upset. MC loves the feeling of having at least one of his big hands on her belly because it makes her feel so comforted and safe.

Satan: Unsurprisingly, this man was constantly reading pregnancy books to try and understand what her body was going through and what he could to make things easier on her. He would also read aloud to her any book she wished as a way of distracting her from the stress of it all.

Belphie: This man...he has glue himself to this woman out of a strong mixture of love and obligation. Yes, he hates every single thing about this situation, but this man has a moral debt to the love of his life because of the night he murdered her so you can bet your ass he's staying by her side, forgoing naps (that she doesn't join him for), and is doing anything she needs him to do.

Barbatos: This man barely makes it onto this list because he has an actual time intensive job to attend to, but he is so determined to be by his Dear's side that he makes it work. Barb has such a calming influence on MC and it seems that just by him showing up, whatever was upsetting her or whatever problem arose was suddenly not so bad because she knew Barb could fix things.

Handlers of the More 'Covert' Pregnancy Issues:

Diavolo: He paid for everything; literally everything. This man felt so guilty that he couldn't be with MC as much as he wanted to be. He visited as much as possible, but in truth, he wished desperately that he could be up on the list of Active Caretakers. Being a prince and the work load that comes with it acts as a barrier to this though so the best he can do for his sweet Queen is to shoulder the financial side of this pregnancy. Doctors appointments. Medications. Any tests she needs done. He makes sure they are all paid for and she doesn't need to worry about a thing in this regard. Also buys the bulk of the baby things. The clothes, the furniture, the toys. He went a bit over board, but the look on MC's face made it all worth it. She cried thick happy tears because her baby already has more than she ever had as a child and so it made her feel more secure about her child's future.

Barbatos: This man handles the scheduling of her doctor appointments and is usually the one the one to bring her to them. Some how makes sure she is never late no matter how the day originally goes or what bad luck my strike that day.

Lucifer: Is next in line to bring MC to her doctor appointments if Barb isn't available to. Tends to ask the doctor a million and one questions and wants copies of the doctor's notes on MC and the baby to go through during his limited free time. Also insists on being the one to pick up her meds and be the one to give them to her each day. Those vitamins are important, MC, and he needs to make sure you take them.

Emotional Support Supermen:

Simeon: Are you even surprised? This has been his role since the very moment he sensed the baby and he's not giving it up as long as his poor lamb needs him.

Asmo: The king of making others feel loved and important. MC is in good hands.

Solomon: Would love to be listed as an Active Caretaker of his sweet little Minx, but the others, most of the brothers to more specific, seem to resent it if he even tries to help out too much and so he tends to stick to the sidelines. Still, he always has a kind word ready and a new perspective to offer when needed. Soli is definitely a person to call when MC gets too overwhelmed and becomes too focused on a bad possibility.

Those Who Stress Her Out:

Leviathan: This man spend most of her pregnancy hiding from her; he takes it all really hard. In truth, he makes it up to her later after the birth, but for now, he hides away in his room like he does when anything scares him and MC is terrified for months that she has lost him over this 😢

Belphie: Believe or not, most of the time he's fine. Despite his opinion of the situation or the fact that he doesn't like kids, he doesn't let any of that control him. It's MC who knows how he feels about all of this who sometimes gets overwhelmed with her fears and worries, usually resulting in her heavily sobbing about how he's going to leave her (because why not, it feels like Levi already has), but it always ends with Belphie holding her tight and swearing to her "I'm not going anywhere, Butthead."

Lucifer: He mostly does fine, but she hates when he comes to her appointments with her because it feels almost like he harasses the poor doctor. Yes, she knows he does it out of worry, but that poor doctor doesn't deserve such criticism.

Her 'Everything Is Normal' Peeps:

Solomon: Honestly, most of the other men make a big deal about her baby and the upcoming changes and in truth, they are a very big deal. However, sometimes it feels like they don't treat her like they used to. Instead of treating her like the person they've always known and love, they treat her like porcelain with a belly. Solomon doesn't. He treats her no differently during the pregnancy than he did before it to the point that some of the other man scold him for it, believing he is too reckless with the pregnant woman. MC appreciates it though and feels like he sees the woman behind the big belly.

Barbatos: Unlike Solomon, he gives MC a similiar feeling without being reckless. He will often take MC out of House of Lamentation to give her a break from the other men, but usually not far; often just to the back garden. The two would sit and talk about just about anything, except the child she carried that caused her back aches and the men inside to go insane about her. Giving her time to focus on other parts of life helped her feel more like a person again and less strangled by upcoming motherly responsibilities and for that, MC deeply appreciated her butler boyfriend.

The Sweetie that Comes with Sweets:

Of course I'm talking about sweet baby Lukey! He's going to be a big brother after all so how could he stay back and not help?

And in truth, he is a major help to MC emotionally. His presence alone makes her whole day better.

It's cute seeing his face as he learns different things about MC's changing body (nothing graphic, just things like how the baby starts out smaller than a pea and somehow grows to baby size and stretches her belly along the way. It blows his freaking mind lol)

The moment he first felt the baby kick inside MC's belly, part of him swore up and down it had to be a prank because how can a baby who hasn't even been born do that???

MC has a lot of sugar cravings during her pregnancy so this kind little baker makes her a lot of sweets.

Simeon ends up having to gently ask the two to cut back on the baked goods--gestational diabetes is a thing after all 😅

That's ok because Lukey is the sweetest part about her day after all 💕

Now with that that all sorted, let's move onto MC's experience during the pregnancy!

The Story:

It was a very stressful pregnancy for her

Starting the very moment Levi hid away from her after hearing the news about her baby.

Right away, she lost one man that she loved and it killed her.

It was a very hard start to the pregnancy.

Luckily, the other men broke through the shock and stayed by her side, determined to take care of her and her child regardless of whether the baby's genetics matched theirs or not.

During the first trimester, the morning sickness was brutal, but the men comforted her through it.

It was mainly Lucifer, Mammon, or Asmo with her in the bathroom though, holding her hair back and comforting her as she cried and begged for it to just end.

She often had a headache during and after the morning sickness so the poor woman was just miserable.

She was also constantly in a pretty lethargic state, but this wasn't something that stayed in the first trimester, but lasted the entire pregnancy.

It seemed like no matter how many hours of sleep she got at night or how many naps she took with Belphie during the day that she was always still so tired and it was very upsetting to the poor woman.

This paired with her hormones made the woman extra sensitive during her pregnancy; the smallest issues would have this poor woman balling about how everything is going wrong in her her life.

Yes, they are sorry you dropped your lemonade and Beely totally feels empathy for you, but your world is not ending and these lovely men will get you another glass, okay?

To make matters worse, it didn't take long at all in her pregnancy for her boyfriends to notice that her belly was growing at a somewhat alarming rate.

Luckily, Diavolo and Barbatos already got her scheduled for her first appointment at the obgyn.

That was the appointment where MC learnt the truth--that she was having triplets.

The poor human sobbed. Triplets.

One baby was a lot of work and stressful enough but three? How were the other men going to react to three babies?

Barb gently shushed her and rubbed her back.

Yes, even he found this news surprising, but believed it ultimately changed nothing; he was going to stand by his sweet pet's side and if the remaining men have anything resembling a spine then they will do the same.

Poor MC was literally shaking when she came home and had to tell the others about the babies.

Lucifer and Mammon were scared shitless, but more devoted to this woman than ever.

Satan and Belphie were internally groaning, but keeping themselves in check.

Asmo and Simeon became anxious, but wasted no time in comforting her and trying to raise her positivity.

Diavolo and Beel were genuinely excited at this news and couldn't keep their hands or lips off of her for a good minute or two, which was good because it brought MC from near tears to a little laughing fit. Those men oozed positivity and to them, her carrying more babies was the best news ever.

Barb and Solomon just smiled comfortingly at their love. Neither was scared or anxious nor were they overly excited. They were merely assured that regardless of how many babies she carried, everything would work out well. It was just like Solomon said the day MC announced her pregnancy: it takes a village to raise a baby and she has quite an impressive village before her.

One thing MC didn't realize when she made this announcement though was that the question of the pregnancy changed, or rather, the form of the question changed from single to multiple choice.

To be more clear, the question changed from "Who is the baby daddy?" To "Who are the baby daddies?"

Every man in the room knew this, but MC did not.

In the Devildom, it is more common for multiples to be the results of from different second parents than all from the same. Like, you can have twin and triplets with the same father, but it is much more rare compared to each baby having a different father

With this news in mind, all of the men worked harder to take care of the sweet, worried human.

Her pregnancy progressed, her belly stretched, her body was in a lot of pain from the growth and extra weight.

Heck, for the last two months, poor MC was mainly on bedrest and carried around when she wanted to changed rooms (she's been carried by all of the guys at least once, but Beel was always the most eager to carry her.

When the day of the birth came, the exhausted and achy woman was both eager for it and dreading it.

She wanted them out and out now, but dear devil, she knew pushing out three babies was gonna take a lot out of her.

The contractions started mid morning, causing Lucifer call Diavolo and the others against her wishes.

The contractions were minor now. She was no where near labor for now so it simply didn't seem right to frighten the non-HoL men into coming over when it will be literal hours just for her to start active labor.

Still, they rushed and the poor woman had even more men hovering her.

She's fine, the babies are fine, now let her watch TV in peace 🤦‍♀️

As a testiment to how fine she was in that moment, she even fell asleep against Diavolo's shoulder as they watched TV together.

However, it obviously didn't stay that way.

As the hours went by and the woman entered active labor, suddenly her tune was much different.

The pain was much harder, the contractions were much more consistent, and poor MC always needed to be gripping onto someone like her life depended on it.

Satan had read in a book that walking can help progress labor so each man took turns walking around the living room with the poor pained woman, stopping whenever she needed to.

Eventually, the pressure below became so severe, but her water still wasn't breaking. It had the labouring woman hysterically crying, refusing to make another step.

The men kept looking at each other, needing someone, anyone in the room to have an idea on how to help MC.

Satan bit his lip before stepping forward.

"I think I know what to do." He stated. "However, I need someone to get a stack of towels and we need to get MC to a bed."

Beel ran off to get the towels while Solomon, who currently had an arm wrapped around MC, scooped her in his arms since she refused to walk.

The group all headed to MC's room.

Soli laid her down gently, but MC gripped onto him tighter, refusing to let go.

The sorcerer whispered sweetly into her ear and kissed her cheek before the woman sniffled and slowly loosened her grip till he could step back from her and be replaced by Satan.

Beel came back just then and the blonde instructed him to lay a few of the towels on the floor by bed.

After that, Satan helped position MC at the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her.

"Okay, Kitten, I'm going to have to break your water--"

"Please!" She begged with every ounce of air in her lungs. "Please!"

With a guilty look in his eyes, the blonde did just that.

MC cried out as she felt her boyfriend slip his hand inside, only for her breath to hitch when she felt the water sack burst and the pressure dissipate.

The woman flung her head back in relief.

"Thank you..." She sobbed.

Despite her relief, poor Satan new from his books that he only helped her towards the most painful part.

MC had a minute or two of feeling okay and was able to catch up on her breathing before the contractions came back worse than before.

Immediately, Diavolo joined her on her left side, grabbing her hand and praising her, telling after months of waiting that it's finally happening.

Lucifer couldn't take it anymore. He joined her on her right and squeezed her hand, promising it will all be fine and they won't let anything happen to her.

Barbatos slips off his gloves and sets them aside before positioning himself between her legs, telling her to push with the contractions and focus breathing between them.

This went on for a while.

Breathe. Push. Breathe. Push. Breathe. Puuuuuush. Breathe.

Eventually, the human was crowning.

More pushing. The head was out revealing bright red hair, but small black spiral horns pointing straight up.

Barbatos raised an eyebrow at this, but the other men were too focused on the pain MC was in to notice what the butler saw as so strange.

After some more pushing, the first baby was pushed out into the butler's waiting arms.

"Solomon."

The sorcerer raised an eyebrow, but stepped forward and took the baby from the other man.

That's when he say it: the baby girl had Diavolo's red hair, Mammon's horns, and Lucifer's dark onyx eyes that reflected red light so well.

This is why they the butler entrusted the baby to him. The other men would only get confused and try asking questions at a point where MC was in no shape to hear them being asked.

Solomon turned away from the other men and grabbed a towel to clean off the newly born infant.

The other men were going to ask him about the newborn, but we're pulled back to their girlfriend by her cries of pain as the second one made its way down.

Honestly, the sorcerer was incredibly fascinated with this turn of events.

He finished cleaning the sweet girl off before kissing her forehead and gently laying her down in one of the cribs in the back of the room.

Meanwhile, the process was repeating though a bit quicker than before. This time, when the second baby crowned and revealed some of the hair on their head, the butler saw two colors.

Half the head filled with white and half the head filled with teal

...the same shade of teal as the ends of his hair.

Barbatos felt his heart beat quicken at this discovery, but he kept focused.

Once this second baby was able to slide out all the way, it was revealed that they also had a tail; a long black tail with a bright green tip.

Something Satan discovered right away.

The wrath demon intercepted the baby before Solomon could.

Instead of arguing this development, the butler simply accepted it.

"Please go clean her off and follow Solomon to the cribs." He said softly.

The blonde walked off with the baby, a confused look on his face.

He grabbed a towel and followed Solomon over to the the cribs.

It made no sense to him. This little girl had his tail yet share features of some of the other men. A mixture of Solomon and Barbatos' hair, Asmo's honey eyes.

What was going on?

Something clicked in his head however when he got a better look at the first baby in the crib, also a mix of three different men.

"A chiropteran conception?" He whispered to the sorcerer.

Soli smirked.

"Ah so you understand too, don't you?"

Satan stared down at his...daughter. well, not just his. Other than MC, he at minimum shared this little girl with the shady sorcerer in front of him, the butler between his girlfriend's legs, and the anxious lust demon in the crowd.

At most? Maybe every man here. They'll have to get these babies tested to see how far their genetic go, to see if it's a full of partial chiropteran conception. Either way, this will be an...interesting experience to say the least.

The blonde cleaned up his daughter and laid her in another crib as MC birthed the last baby, coming much, much quicker than the last two.

By the time the two men rejoined the group, the last baby was already born and in the butler's arms.

With it being the being the last baby and MC's pain being over, this was the first that the others truly focused on--and realized something was off with.

This baby was a little boy. What most of the people in the room found strange about about the child however was mixtures of features.

The dark blue-black hair with orange highlights, purple eyes, angel wings, a slightly dark skin tone and...well, he definitely took after Levi by having double the 'part' between his legs.

"I...what?" MC panted, staring down at her son, who gently cried down within the butler's arms.

Solomon handed Barb a towel, who gratefully took it and began cleaning up and the little boy in his arms.

"Beautiful, isn't he?" Solomon smiled at her. "I think all three of them are a beautiful mixture of us all."

MC laid their speechless as the sorcerer headed back towards the cribs, followed by Satan.

The sorcerer brought back the oldest daughter while the blonde brought back up the youngest daughter.

Dia raised his eyebrows.

"A chiropteran conception... fascinating."

While some of the men knew the term, most did not and MC most certainly didn't so the prince took the time to explain it to the group.

It was unclear at this point whether this was a the result of a full chiropteran conception (meaning all three babies carry the genetics of every single man in the room) or a partial chiropteran conception (each baby contains the genetics of the men whose genes they get their looks from). The latter is the most common when this many men are involved, but they will have to get the babies tested just in case.

At this explanation, MC was looking around at her boyfriends, looking for reassurance that everyone was okay with this

And sure enough, each man latched on like usual with sweet words and kisses, praises and reassurances.

In truth, this was a strange twist but no man present truly had an issue with it.

It will take some time to figure out what sort of dynamic the men should of adopt.

Also, Diavolo unfortunately has a lot of royal legal history to dig through to see what the laws say about chiropteran conceptions and heirs.

If this is a full conception than it doesn't really matter too much, but if it's a partial chiropteran conception then he worries his (and MC's and Lucifer's and Mammon's) daughter will be made to feel less than because of how she is biological will be bullied by the nobility. He would like her to be his heir less for the sake of having one but more to give her a social shield against the demonic elite.

The kids (in birth order):

Tatiana- a graceful and elegant but secretly sensitive and vengeful. Touch her siblings and you just might find a knife in your back. Sneaky, but even if she gets caught, she'll get away with it because she's spoiled and family comes first; her Daddies agree 100% 🥰

Selia- a very shy and emotional girl. Magical prodigy with Barbatos' future visions and Asmo's charming powers, two abilities she doesn't particularly even want. She's quiet and delicate, often found hiding behind her family or with her head down.

Milo- hyper, friendly, and troublesome (though never on purpose). This guy works off one superpowered braincell but once it's out of juice, so is he and he sleeps it off on the couch or in his room. He always have a kind word for everyone, but can be a bit naïve. Thinks fictions is perfect substitute for real life lessons and can be kinda slow to learn the true ones.

[raisedbythetv89]

I feel like Logan’s death really commandeers the conversation about how terrible season 4 of Veronica Mars is (understandably so it is horrific) but there’s literally SO MUCH MORE THAN THAT 😭

Veronica isn’t Veronica and Logan isn’t Logan (really NO ONE is truly in character anymore). Rob Thomas clearly has NO IDEA what healing actually looks like so Logan becomes this pop psychology stereotype with no depth or emotion and like Veronica literally says A POD PERSON. And he describes his therapy as controlling his anger so it doesn’t consume him. That might have been the move as a temporary band-aide immediately to stabilize his life after season 3 but what like 12 years later???? When season 4 starts? ABSOLUTELY NOT. Fire that therapist immediately 😭 He should be WELL into the source of his anger. Healing isn’t about control it’s about surrender and acceptance of your feelings and developing healthy coping strategies to process your newly uncovered feelings so you can live WITH them not in spite of them. There’s a reason so many “good guy” characters are so one dimensional and boring it’s because the male writers writing them literally have NO CLUE what a healthy well adjusted men act like 😭 - (Ted Lasso was so rare because we had good men writing good men)

And yes we know Logan punching people does it for Veronica but that’s because it is ALWAYS in defense of her but his safety and well being is always her number 1 priority (he pulls a gun to save her in the Fitzpatricks bar and she screams at him because she doesn’t want him to get hurt or killed in his attempt to defend her and she’s terrified). Him just punching a kitchen cabinet in rage and frustration is NOT the same thing at all and she would show concern in that situation not immediately instigate sex ROBERT.

The idea that Veronica did ZERO growing/healing/processing in those 12 years is so insulting and just not realistic - once she got space and distance she would have come out of fight or flight and been assaulted with all the repressed emotions from seasons 1-3 before law school yet somehow she’s WORSE than she was when she was younger with less stability and support and capacity to handle everything she was dealing with.

Especially after everything established in the movie!

“Are you gonna ask me if I did it?”

“I wouldn’t be here if I thought you did”

THE AMOUNT OF GROWTH THAT SHOWS IN VERONICA IS ACTUALLY INSANE. Miss never trusts anybody, suspect EVERYONE until your can verify the truth - believes Logan and Weevil AT THEIR WORD. Trusts THEIR CHANGE implicitly and picks helping Logan and Weevil BECAUSE SHE CARES not because it’s a fucking addiction as Rob tried to frame it in the movie 💀💀💀 Veronica always helped because she’s SOFT because she has a good heart and can’t help but help when she knows she can which is classic of parentified children - you believe everything is your responsibility to fix if it’s in your capability to fix. Does she get neurotic trying to solve cases? Absolutely! But that is trying to control and fix external problems as a distraction from her own. It was a coping mechanism and taking that coping mechanism away in the 9 years between season 3 and the movie would have caused serious problems for her that would have forced her to confront her issues.

Season 4 could have been Veronica having a complete break down from her always too full plate coming crumbling down trying to help and fix too much combined with logan being gone and always at risk when he is gone, Wallace bringing new life into an increasingly corrupt neptune she can’t seem to save, Mac working for Jake Kane?!!?! I would have loved If instead she was helping Mac deal with the swapped at birth thing they NEVER touched again. Combined with her dad’s health problems and Weevil falling back into his old habits. She is someone who feels responsible for everything and everyone around her because everyone blamed her for EVERYTHING when she was younger and eventually that catches up with you and THAT is what I wanted to see her strength crumble forcing her to be truly vulnerable and instead of asking for favors asking for HELP allowing her to stop acting like a woman written by a man and act like an actual adult woman BY women who actually understand that experience. Rob was SO out of his depth - his portrayal of Leanne in earlier seasons already proved that.

But that’s just one of literally 1 million possibilities that would have been better than the direction Rob chose. He managed to strip away everything we loved about ALL of his characters until they were ghosts of themselves and it makes me SO UPSET 😭 because he literally revived a show just to finish the destruction path he started in season 3, that had started to be corrected in the movie because it was so controlled by the fans.

Rob and Joss - two men who’s success was built upon a largely female audience and then their misogyny caused them to try and destroy everything their audiences loved 🙃🙃🙃🙃

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼🔼 (i want to be in my buck/eddie/shannon times its great)

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨(i love the one two punch of eddies season 5 breakdown combined with the daniel plot *chefs kiss*)

🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷🦷 (oh i am very interested in this after the first snippet you posted i need more thx)

HEY!

Okay let's do this.

60 for 🔼 (YAY that makes me so happy):

---

"Based on what you said.” 

“Jane?” Shannon echoes, taking the drink. 

“Jane,” Buck nods. “Janet is a medieval variant of the name Jane. Same meaning, same cultural origin. But whereas Jane fell out of fashion after the 1940s and is beginning to make a comeback, Janet has been flopping since the 60s.”

Shannon blinks, face still for a moment. 

Shit. Fuck. Buck has definitely overstepped. 

“Jane,” she repeats. A small smile creeps onto her face. “I like Jane.”

Buck exhales, relieved. “Oh, good. I mean, there are other variants. Janette. Jean.”

“No,” Shannon shakes her head. “I like Jane. I’ll mention it to Eddie.”

Whoa.

“Cool,” Buck shrugs, playing it down. “That’s cool.”

Shannon moves to open the Jeep passenger door. “How’d you know any of that anyway?”

Great question. 

“Oh, you know… I go on the occasional research binge when presented with a question,” Buck says. “I get curious.”

“Research binge?” Shannon smiles.

Buck shrugs as he buckles himself into the driver’s seat. 

“I like learning.”

“I think that’s a really good trait,” she replies. 

Buck has to take a big, steadying breath. He feels dangerously close to something for Shannon. Something he is very much not allowed to feel. 

🔼

She tells him about work on the drive back to her place. It seems Shannon is almost in exactly the opposite of Buck’s position. If Buck is being kept away from the work he loves because of his stupid leg, Shannon is stuck in a job she hates, despite the discomfort it currently brings her. Typing endlessly isn’t great for her shoulder. Her boss seems to have little empathy for her pregnancy or her shoulder injury. On top of it all, the administrative work means nothing to her. 

“But I am literally not qualified for anything else,” she explains.

Buck understands that well enough. He gets how hard it is with no education .Before the fire academy, he had no real qualifications. Other than mixology school. Which went a long way in applying to bars, but he still realized he was getting hired largely for his looks. 

“What did you want to do?” Buck asks. “Before?”

There’s no need to specify what before means. Before Chris. 2010 B.C. He has his own before, too. Even though it’s way less serious. Before he left home. 

---

66 for 🚨(more parental drama ahead!):

---

He still has to figure out how and when to do that. He’s already got a sort of sappy speech in mind, though. 

He can only search for engagement rings today because Buck and Chris are at the zoo. Just the two of them. Something that has been happening more and more lately. Not that they didn’t spend one-on-one time before. They always did. Just since Buck and Eddie started dating, the priority has been doing things as a family. And it still is, to a large degree. 

Chris calling Buck his second dad and Eddie asking Buck if he wanted a second kid changed things, just a little. Buck asked for more time, just them two. 

“If he feels that way about me, I-I don’t want him to think I don’t feel the same way, and if we do have another kid, I don’t want him to think he’s like just my stepson, compared to the new baby, so-”

“Oh my god,” Eddie had interrupted. “You do not need to ask. Do what you want to do, he’ll love it.”

So they’re at the zoo. There’s a special exhibit about bugs. It’s not a travesty that Eddie is home googling men’s ring cuts. 

He thinks he’s settled on the kind of style he’s going to go for - if not the actual ring itself - when the doorbell rings. Eddie isn’t expecting anyone. It wouldn’t be Maddie or Chim, because of the baby. Maybe Bobby? Or Hen? Eddie really doesn’t know.

He closes his laptop, finishes a final sip of coffee, and crosses the house to answer the door.

The last person on earth he’s expecting to see is his father. 

Okay, maybe his mother is a smidge less likely. But still. His father is at the bottom of the list of anticipated visitors, right there with Pedro Pascal and Daniel Craig. 

“Dad?” Eddie’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head. “What the hell are you doing here?”

It comes off a bit harsher than intended. Wait, no. Scratch that. It’s exactly the right level of harshness. What the hell is he doing here?

Ramon looks nervous. His eyes are wide and sort of pleading. His hands are wrung together in front of him like an upside down prayer.

“Eddie!” He exclaims, voice shaky. “Hi.”

“What the hell?” Eddie asks again. 

“I was… Can we talk?” Ramon asks a little weakly. 

“Why didn’t you, I don’t know, call me?” Eddie demands. 

“I didn’t think you’d answer.”

Probably true.

“Why didn’t you leave a damn voicemail? Maybe a text?” Eddie tries.

“I didn’t think you’d return the call.”

Eddie’s lip twitches.

“Please, Edmundo. It’s been two years. I just want to talk.”

“Seven,” Eddie corrects. 

“What?” Ramon asks. “No. It was 2019.”

“Oh, I’m aware,” Eddie replies.

---

51 for 🦷 (ah yay glad you're interested!):

---

“I wanted to keep myself occupied,” Eddie says. “So I took extra shifts.”

“Because you were sad,” Christopher says.

Eddie nods.

“Because I made you sad.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “I made me sad. And then I went to a lot of therapy, and that made me sort of sad, too.”

Christopher processes this for a second. Eddie makes no move to turn on the truck. They can stay here as long as they need. 

“Isn’t therapy supposed to make you happy?” Chris asks eventually.

Eddie chuckles. “Ideally, yeah. It is. But sometimes it makes you more sad for a bit, first.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Christopher retorts. 

“Uh, it kind of does when you think of it like… Like a broken bone.” Eddie tries.

“A broken bone?” Chris asks. 

“Mhm,” Eddie nods. “Sometimes, you break a bone in a weird way. And in order for it to heal right, the surgeon has to break it again, so they can put it back in the right position.”

“Ew,” Chris wrinkles his nose.

“Yeah,” Eddie admits. 

“Or like having someone cut into my gums to make my mouth eventually feel better?” Chris asks.

“Exactly. Yeah.”

“Okay,” Chris says. He’s quiet again for a while. Eddie still doesn’t turn on the truck. Then… “What bone did you have to rebreak, or whatever?”

Yeah.

Yeah, they were always going to get here sooner or later. Eddie kind of hoped later. Post-surgery. While Buck wasn’t at work and could come by to resuscitate him if he keeled over. 

“A lot of things, really,” Eddie admits. “I think I had a lot of bones heal wrong.”

“That’s kind of sad.”

“Yeah.”

It is kind of sad. Eddie is learning to be sad for himself these days. Not just with himself. 

“Can you tell me one?” Chris asks. 

[spidermanifested]

@canirim clapping my hands okay Mei Paninya Scar. Lets Go

MEI

sexuality headcanon: Baby Bi. i think that she does not yet know that girls are also a viable romantic option but if she realized she would be over the moon about it. transfem al is a fun concept and i think if that happened she would go all in on the new fantasy of BEING SWEPT OFF HER FEET BY A BEAUTIFUL LADY KNIGHT

gender headcanon: once again i dont have anything too spectacular. shes gods specialest princess and shes never going to die

a ship i have with said character: her and al are pretty cute i guess although im not hyper invested in them

a brotp i have with said character: her and scar are literally everything. she shoupd have been allowed to kill people for disrespecting him on screen

a notp i have with said character: have not seen any mei ships aside from al/mei honestly? Which i mean is. for the best given this fandoms track record

a random headcanon: i envision that part of the reason shes so comfortable adopting random middle aged men is that she was largely raised by her mothers extended family after said mother died in childbirth. her clan is very tight-knit anyway and she's never had a reason Not to trust the adults around her, they all treat her like their own daughter which both gives her a very optimistic view of people in general and also leaves her feeling that deep sense of obligation to return the favor somehow. she knows all their lives are resting on her shoulders and THEY know its fucked up to be relying on a child for something like that but also they dont have much of an alternative. theyre all just trying to do the best they can. I Thinnk About This A Lot

general opinion over said character: mei chang i would kill the sun for you

PANINYA

sexuality headcanon: Romantically Inexperienced Awkward Teenage Lesbian

gender headcanon: i think when she grows up she should get butcher. not the profession. theres too many of thosr in fma already

a ship i have with said character: winry/paninya is really cute....... and honestly i liked their interactions in 03 better than the manga or brotherhood, they should get to be partners in crime and do stupid shit together. wish we got to see more of them hanging out in rush valley

a brotp i have with said character: i like that her and garfiel are buddies

a notp i have with said character: ???

a random headcanon: i fully believe the only reason she had the guns put in her legs was because she thougjt it would be cool. she convinced dominic on grounds of self defense but she absolutely was just thinking wouldnt it be sick if my knees had guns in them

General Opinion over said character: she has such a fun personality and design and i wish, so hard her storyline was different. its agonizing to watch her episode seeing her go yeah so i lost my whole family and home and also my legs in an incredibly traumatizing childhood accident and then an adult man kidnapped me off the street and forced me to undergo painful invasive surgical procedures against my will. But like i can walk again so it was pretty great of him actually and i can only hope to repay his generosity someday. Girl you do not need a random stranger chastising you for stealing from rich tourists. you need therapy to come to terms with the fact that uour right to bodily autonomy was infringed upon,

SCAR

sexuality headcanon: could be gay could be bi i dont really have him pinned down as anything but "very repressed". i dont think hes ever been in a relationship, hes always seemed to have way bigger priorities, but with him i dont feel like that translates to "UNINTERESTED in relationships" because of how much of his character revolves around denying himself comfort and identity. i think if somebody kissed him he would cry

gender headcanon: i dont think hed describe himself as anything besides a man if you asked him, but i also think his experience of gender is also one of those things that got a little foggy and disconnected along with the other identity related baggage. Gender: A Necessary Violence and the Only Means to Achieve It. whatever pride flag goes with that one

a ship i have with said character: still championing my scar/greed agenda

a brotp i have with said character: aside from him and mei, his relationship with his brother is very interesting to me and i like to stir around all the complicated feelings he has to have about that guy in the soup of my mind

a notp i have with said character: ive seen him get shipped with olivier sometimes. Dont really like that one i must say

a random headcanon: when he was a teenager he used to privately write poetry and then got really embarrassed about its perceived amateurish shortcomings and stopped forever

general opinion over said character: the single most interesting and layered character in the whole series honestly and once again i wish we didnt take That Direction with him towards the end. all his thoughts and feelings are so tangled up, i love the way he cant seem to help but attract community and compassion despite how hard he tries to shake it off, whatever he thinks of himself hes still at his core an incredibly kind person clinging to a reason to survive. Save me mr xbox logo

[vodyanitsa]

Omg no way I’d love to ready any and all of your essays on midnights!!! Also I completely forgot the karma Ice spice remix existed until you mentioned it oops 🤭🤭 also I really liked that comparison you drew to the 1989 cuz I see a lot of ppl comparing the 2 as ppl albums but that 20 year old —> 30 year old arc? It’s soooo intriguing and I see it now esp with songs like midnight rain or question. What other songs do you think fit this arc, and would you connect any of them to songs in 1989?

for brevity, i've chosen three songs from each album to compare to each other to show, how taylor has evolved between 1989 and midnights, and how the latter carries over themes from the former. and i'm gonna put it under the cut bc it got kinda long woops

Bland Space & Anti-Hero

Blank Space was the first time she wrote a song being self-aware (technically shake it off came first, as a single, but i'd argue blank space is more specific). It's specifically about how her dating life is perceived in the public eye, and she acknowledges how it is kind of ridiculous, but also that, even though the men she dates know what they're signing up for, they still decide to date her.

Anti-Hero follows the same theme of self-awareness, though now, almost a decade later, her fame is in focus, because she's become the monster on the hill, the most famous woman in the room at any given moment, and for some, the public included, this is grating. And she knows that, and points out, that she's aware of her faults, and she's sorry, but she is who she is. There is also more angst about her legacy - "I have this dream my daughter in-law kills me for the money" - which again shows that her priorities have changed. Of course she's worried about if her lover leaves her when he gets tired of her schemes, but what if one of her children marries someone who's more interested in her money than in them and is willing to kill for it? What does that say about her as a potential mother?

Out Of The Woods & Question...?

This one is kind of obvious, but stick with me. The way I see it, after love & heartbreak, Harry Styles is her eternal muse. It's a relationship she keeps returning to throughout her discography, and I have to wonder if it's because that relationship really did a number on her, and even after all these years she keeps lying awake at night wishing it had turned out differently. I also theorize that after all these years, Styles has become less of a person in her mind than a concept. The one that got away, the great love of her early 20s. She's never writing about him as a person anymore (post 1989, including vault tracks), but merely as a symbol of eternal regret and youth wasted. With this in mind, let's get into the songs:

OOTW asks the question: are we out of the woods yet? Can we stop fretting about our relationship and how it looks to the public and just be in it? She says "We were built to fall apart, then fall back together". She knows this relationship is doomed, but she is also convinced that they will find their way back together eventually. At this point in her life, Styles is her recent ex and she's closer to the situation, so we're able to get more details of their relationship (the Polaroid, the accident, moving furniture so they could dance etc). Even though this relationship has already ended, and she's remembering back to it in the present, it's still a fresh wound. Maybe even a wound that will never heal.

Question opens with "I remember", sampling OOTW and tying it directly to that song, that period of her life, and Styles. Now in her 30s she's lying awake at night, and asking herself, and him, what the fuck actually happened back then, and why did he treat her like that. "Did you wish you put up more of a fight?" Do you regret it? Do you miss me like I miss you? "Does it feel like everything's just like second-best after that meteor strike?". By now, her relationship with Styles is a distant memory, and he himself has become a muse for her to escape to from her current, unsatisfactory relationship. The lyrics are less specific too, we only really get any details in the chorus, because Styles merely a concept at this point, an amalgamation of all her exes into one, and she's asking all of them: do you wish it had turned out differently?

New Romantics & Hits Different

This one is a little silly, but also very serious.

New Romantics is about moving to New York with a broken heart but trying to have fun with your friends regardless. It's about being young and having fun and not worrying about love or anything else, and it's about valuing the people in your life who are there for you, and not chasing someone who doesn't care about you. "The best people in life are free".

Hits Different, compared, is a kind of devolution. She's still at the club, but she can't stop thinking about her ex, and though her friends try to cheer her up, it's just not working. If New Romantics is the pre-game where you get dressed to go out and forget about your ex, Hits Different is the six hours and a bottle of vodka later, where you go to the bathroom and stare drunkenly at your reflection in the mirror - all red eyes and smudged mascara - and you break down crying because you just thought of your ex again. Escapism can't mend a broken heart. And that's what she has realized on this song. This ex, this is the one she can't get over, no matter how hard she tries. Who this ex is, however, we'll never know. My money is still on Styles.

[kade0--0]

GONNA TALK ABOUT "I WANT TO BE THE WALL" CUZ I HAVE FEELINGS ABOUT THIS MANGA

------------

❧ I Want to be The Wall

(Watashi wa Kabe ni Naritai/わたしは壁になりたい)

- Aroace female MC, Gay MC, Married MCs

Absolutely amazing absolutely beautiful I will forever recommend this manga it's genuinely so good

A story of an aroace woman (Yuriko) who likes BL and fears living alone, and a gay man (Takerota) who can't be with the person he loves. Despite their differences they had amazing communication skills and their willingness to accommodate to each other was honestly peak marriage behavior. I also loved how they tried their best to understand each other's sexualities.

There was this part of the manga where Takerota talked to Yuriko's friend about asexuality and stuff, and it made me cry so hard I had to take a break from reading. When I got to that part I really thought "ah I totally get how Yuriko feels". The way her friend explained her fondness for love as a concept was honestly pretty much how I felt about it. Liking romance manga and feeling happy when we see people who are able to love and cherish each other, recognizing how beautiful that feeling must be, but ultimately unable to experience it the same way everyone else does and yearning for it.

Her friend also goes to explain how she likes BL in particular because both main characters are men, so she wouldn't be able to draw a direct connection to herself as a woman or imagine herself in that situation. I totally got that, reading things I can't fully relate to because it allows me to distance myself from the romance happening in front of me.

I'm really talking a lot but this is just from one chapter HAHAH anyway the whole manga is so so good I really recommend it, the part I ranted about was just the one that struck me the most because I was really going thru it when I decided to pick this manga up. All that combined with the feeling of being seen really set me off so yeah

In the end, I loved how Yuriko and Takerota became a (unconventional) family even though they started the whole marriage for the sake of convenience

Honestly while reading it, I just kept thinking how nice it would be if I experienced something similar. I'm also scared of growing old by myself, and in my case, watching everyone around me fall in love while I can't and making their partners their top priority just fuels the fear that I'll never be that important to anyone or have someone to lean on in the future. The way my parent is also starting to talk about boyfriends and babies is also adding onto the pressure that I need to be normal and get married and have kids someday. But if I did that it wouldn't be for my own happiness, I'd just be doing what other people want me to do.

But this manga kinda gave me hope that maybe I can find someone who'd be content staying by my side without expecting any romantic connection. And maybe one day I'll be brave enough to live how I want to live.

To every aroace person suffering from these fears I really hope you find people you can call family and trust to have your back at all times <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was originally gonna be on my list of queer manga I read recently (still working on that), but I got carried away with this part and it ended up longer and way more personal than the others so I made a separate post for it yay!!

Happy reading to anyone who felt like picking this up after seeing this post!

<3

[theadventurerslog]

Quest For Glory IV: Shadows of Darkness | Part 4

The Adventurer's Log

I had three goals to start with: Erana's Garden, the lake and the gypsy camp. If I didn't get distracted or otherwise waylaid by other things. But Erana's Garden was my top priority.

After a rough encounter with a wyvern I made it. I'm really struggling to click with this one's combat. I have my settings such that I can just let the computer take over, but I'm not entirely comfortable with that. I should try to work it out, but struggling. Or I need to slow my speed down and try to attack with spells from a distance as much as possible, but that's never gone super well for me. I mean I've been able to get an attack or two off, but I always end up in the fight in the end.

Anyway, Erana's Garden! Very pretty!

And the water tastes like wild strawberries.

Also my health bar is green because I got poisoned. Again. I was hoarding healing stuff in past games. Now I have no healing when I would absolutely be guzzling the stuff down.

I found 30! crowns in the lantern. Accepted "as a gift from Erana."

There was a fruit tree.

But as soon as I tried to take one all the fruit vanished... I reloaded and tried a Fetch. That got me one--a Mana Fruit. Probably restores MP? The rest of the fruit vanished.

Detect Magic detected magic from the lanterns and tree. I could use Trigger to light the lanterns.

I almost missed it, but there was also a dug-up hole.

A small bush or tree you say? A Bonsai Tree perhaps?

Yes!

I think I got some points for that. And maybe something more of it will come later? It's healthy, grew some more and adds some extra prettiness to this already pretty place, so I'm satisfied regardless.

I couldn't find anything else to do, so I went back to exploring.

As I continued I ran into the hawk again and it even perched on a tree for a bit. It was looking for food and struggling to do so thanks to the monster. I'd like to feed it, but it didn't seem interested in my garlic and avocado sandwiches or my corn, surprise surprise.

I also, from examining each screen, seemed to be near a strange house up on a cliff, but there was no way up to be seen from this area. I very much appreciate that doing a general examine of the area will point our points of interest nearby and in what general direction. That's been helpful for getting around.

I got attacked by a fanged vicious bunny...

And once again struggled. I feel like my spells have been missing more often than not. I don't know if they actually are. Or they weren't working on the rabbit. I think they were maybe just straight up not working on it. (future note: yeah they're immune to magic).

I was hoping to take its body for that hawk, but no such luck... even with my bag. Oh well.

I found the lake and a beautiful not suspicious at all naked woman that I totally didn't recently read about.

Then she straight up said she was the Rusalka which were in that book at the Adventurer's Guild. Even if I hadn't read that, this is obviously death. I could talk to her but it all led to trying to get me to come in.

I still went for it, because you know. I had to see. Power of saving.

"Going 'Drown'? You quickly discover that you really don't know how to breathe water."

What I didn't know was if I could actually do anything with her or if I needed to just avoid this. I tried a flame dart just to see what would happen. That'd warm her up! She appeared shocked by my action and disappeared under the lake. I reloaded.

I tried offering her candy and I didn't actually think it would work but she accepted it!

I've been scooping up flowers in my wandering too and I gave her one for good measure.

My gifts made her friendlier and less lethal. I was able to talk to her about more things and in fact, if I tried the use icon she'd shoo me back so she wouldn't kill me.

She'd been here for a long time and doesn't really know why but she can't go anywhere else anyway. She does feel lonely, drowned men aren't much for company, but as a Rusalka that's her job. The lake isn't safe to swim as there plenty of unpleasant things lurking in the deep water, aside from herself, I guess. The lake also merges with the swamp that has nastier undead than her, so be careful.

She thought she remembered a town and must have lived there once. Beyond what direction it lies in there wasn't anything else she could say about it.

She also asked me to please come visit her again sometime. Nice to have a friend to talk to, so I guess I've made a Rusalka friend now?

I went online to see if I could find info about the combat that would make more sense to me. It's set to Arcade and I switched it to Strategy to see if that'll make more sense to me. Honestly, tempted to just knock the skill level as low as it will go and let the computer handle it.

While looking I accidentally spotted that Dr. Cranium is the one to give healing stuff. Which means, there ought to be a way to get through his door already! Thanks to that, I decided to leave off looking for the camp for now and go back to town to try to figure that out. I don't really want to risk wandering the wilderness at night yet anyway without any healing stuff. I also still needed to have whatever that night encounter I referenced in the first post is too, so I went back to town to tackle Cranium's door again.

I had the TRAP and the baby antwerps. Maybe I needed to find a way to catch an antwerp? I also had that bag, so maybe I could use it to catch one with bait and the TRAP machine could tell me what that bait is? With the flying aardvark its answer was to teach some termites to fly. I thought I hit up all the combinations of answers but maybe not, so I tried again and tried to be more systematic about it.

Turns out I misunderstood! When it said the aardvark I was supposed to say no to get more options. That was very silly of me. Next up was chocolate moose ("We suggest using whipped cream on your moose, um, mousse.). Then came the antwerp and if I said no it said "Lucky you!" And there weren't anymore. Progress!

So on the Antwerp path it narrowed things down. Surely not a full-size adult antwerp?? No, but I said yes first to see the result of course:

"Try collecting checks instead. They don't bounce nearly as often."

Then I got to baby antwerps. "Bouncing baby Antwerps are avid avocado eaters."

I baited the TRAP with avocado from one of my sandwiches, and opened the door to release them. The TRAP caught one, but then I wasn't sure what to do... though more types of things to catch came up with the TRAP, so that may be good to keep in mind.

Ah, the door to the maze. The maze is an antwerp maze.

Oh boy.

With a lot of trial and error I managed to get the key but then I had to get this little fellow back to the exit and guess who hit the exit button and had to get the key again? Cranium, you're on thin ice, my man.

But I got it, I got it, good little antwerp. I had to do the key picture again but it was at least reduced to just the key hole part. Still... CRANIUUUM, shaking my fist.

Into the lab...

He thought I was Igor at first who sometimes comes in to help in the lab, before he realized, but was friendly with me at least. Not a gnome. Which, yeah, I wasn't really expecting anymore, but it would have been funny.

Now there's a worthy quest! (I say as if I actually drink tea.)

Once I looked around there--there was an 'ahead' joke about the skull because of course there was, what else is skull decor for--I talked to him.

On my personal options, aside from the usual greet and tell about yourself, I also had tell about magic, so of course I had to do that.

We might not be off to the bestest of starts here. He'd just looove the WIT. I wish it'd let me cast magic here. Let me juggle some lights at him.

We talked about science. We talked about the elements... including none other than pizza.

Pizza element! That was in a book in Shapeir. A pizza elemental specifically if I recall.

"Pizza represents the essence of well-roundedness and regaining strength. Most importantly, you can have it delivered in under half an hour in most area!"

He can also make healing and poison cure drinks (NOT magic), but he forgot the formulas for the main ingredient. He names the ingredient then you have to use the game manual to get corresponding formula of elements. Good old copy protection...

They're time consuming so he can only make one of each per day, but at least they're free I guess? Not that I'm struggling for money.

He was also happy to give me an empty flask--"always delighted to assist scientific research of any kind".

I got him on another rant about magic and he was bemoaning how gullible people are. He got given a scroll by someone saying it was a magical spell. Poppycock! He gave that to me too "as a reminder that Magic is figment of fevered imagination."

It was indeed a scroll. I learned Glide. That sounds exciting.

I would love to see this man enter the Wizard's Institute of Technocery and see what happens. The drama. Though I suppose they might just boot him out like they did to me a few times, but how do you explain that with your science? Them phenomena.

We moved on to other topics, like the cemetery being a useful source of materials for his experiments. Ah. He sure is trying to reanimate the dead and needs some Essential Etheric Fluid.

Are we getting into Frankenstein territory here? It sounds like we're headed to Frankenstein territory.

He also wants to brew the perfect cup of tea but that's been eluding him. You know, just an extra quest alongside some necromancy, I mean, science.

He is also NOT MAD! Just perturbed about the world situation and lack of respect. But not mad.

As I said goodbye he asked me to tell Igor to bring him the fluid if I saw him, which means there is no if here. Obviously I'd go directly to him. That was my intent anyway; there was nothing new when I went to talk to him.

I went back to the inn and the gnome jester was there!

He's staying at the inn for a while until he finds something. His name is Punny Bones... He claimed to be a pro punster but I sure wasn't seeing it! He's up for me visiting and maybe we could have some laughs. He's got a million jokes, but can't remember most of them.

It showed.

Once I sat he put his show on...

He needs lessons from Keapon Laffin. Or Yorick.

"You may as well laugh now. This act doesn't get any funnier."

He is honest. It sure didn't.

Well, that adds another person to my rounds, but he is not up to Gnomish standards so far!

Maybe he's here to find his humour.

The innkeeper was also thoroughly unimpressed.

Nor were the usual trio. And Punny interjected on every topic of conversation....

I poked outside briefly but nothing new, so I went back and Punny had gone to his room so I went too.

And got zapped for knocking by his burglar alarm. I knocked! jerk.

His room is quite something yet about what I'd expect. The garlic is smiling...

Thank you, narrator.

Okay I... I sort of liked the smiling garlic. I think. They remind me of Rotten Tomato or the singing stone in King's Quest VI.

I did learn some information off him though. I told him about my adventures and he particularly wanted to hear about Spielburg. Turned out he was cursed by Baba Yaga and if I hadn't made her mad he never would have told the joke that made her take his humour away. He's "comedically challenged", "a dweeb dunce", "vexed with a hex". So, he IS here to find his humour! My snark was actually right.

I guess that means he has an excuse for his awfulness. I guess.

I also scooped up a rubber chicken. No sign of a pulley.

Then I slept in one hour increments and tried some spells while waiting for midnight to have that night encounter I didn't want to miss and risk getting dead-ended. I remembered to check that glide spell too. It only works on liquid so... that confused me as to what it actually does.

Then I thought of trying my juggling lights spell with Punny, but no reaction, boo. He did have a little bit more to say though. He heard Baba Yaga landed her hut somewhere southeast of here. He couldn't find her himself though and also warned me to watch out. She gets real mad. I might be in some trouble when I find her given the grudge she must have against me.

But enough time passed to get my encounter...

Who or what are you up there...?

He was a Domovoi and protector of the Inn. Aw. Most people don't normally see him but my hero is maybe something special? A hero for one.

Things are bad. Things aren't good for the inn. The Innkeeper and his wife are sad. Mordavia is very sad. There's too much Dark Magic for Domovoi to help. He wouldn't elaborate on the Dark Magic though.

In general he didn't want to talk too much yet and said perhaps another night. I thought though, since Punny Bones changed when I left and came back, maybe if I slept for just an hour he'd change too? And he did and had a lot more information for me.

Many things need my help: Gnome, Nikolai, Yuri and Bella (Innkeeper and his wife), Olga and Boris. Others. Even the Domovoi needs help.

Not far is a very bad place with a door that would try to kill me and I needed a Magic Symbol. The Monastery--I already found that my friend. There's a Domovoi there--not alive and not dead, but very dry. That "sculpture" I couldn't do anything about before? He'll see me again after I help that Domovoi. I will!

He also had some other advice like to find the Forest Leshy and if I play games with Leshy, Leshy will help me.

Also dead things good and bad.

So, I'll need to help someone who's dead? Anna? If she is indeed dead and I need to help Nikolai maybe helping her would help him.

He also talked about the Rusalka--killed by an untrue lover and told me if I was kind maybe she wouldn't kill me, but I've already handled that! Proactive Rusalka befriending here.

And the castle is a bad place I can't be going to yet. Oops. I would need to be very strong, smart and powerful and know many things. It's too dangerous right now. I went! I survived! I just didn't... really accomplish anything.

In the castle there are many dead things and many undead.

I don't know who Tanya is and he didn't elaborate. The Master's daughter maybe? Or the kid referenced in the castle? Who may be one and the same.

But I have an actual reason to go find the gypsies now.

A good list of things to do and look out for from this fellow and I need to help him! Poor thing. He's sweet, makes up for the Gnome disappointment I just had.

I needed sleep then it was time to go see about saving that dried-out Domovoi.

[positivelybeastly]

X-Men #4

On time for once!

Let's do this.

Hmm. Not quite sure how I feel about this? Admittedly, Illyana is a character about whom I know relatively little in the grand scheme of things, but given that she's been fighting for control of Limbo for a while, been a protege of Scott Summers, and was a War Captain on Krakoa, I would think her tactical skills would be up to snuff enough that she could be half decent at chess?

That being said, the trope that tactical ability can be measured by chess ability isn't one that I think has to be followed. It's as much a test of logic as it is of tactical planning and forethought, and between Illyana's more chaotic nature and her lack of formal schooling, maybe it's just the case that she would rather show you how good she is in the field than go on about chess ability. And I can think of a good reason why she would choose to play chess with the person she has blocked, rather than any other game.

Anyway!

Trevor Fitzroy isn't allowed his weird little gremlin bro-pal possible love interest guy Bantam anymore, because of woke. (I know fuckin' nothing about Fitzroy, incidentally, this is based off of their weird relationship in that one X-Men: TAS episode I watched.)

And yeah, what WAS Krakoa all about, huh? Where DID all those babies that got abandoned go?

. . . Well, anyway!

Hank, chairs are for sitting on, not perching on . . .

It's interesting that we're doing split team issues - clearly, this run is taking cues from New X-Men not just in terms of some of its plot points, but also some of its structure; there were multiple arcs that focused exclusively on Charles and Jean, or Logan, Scott and Fantomex, with the rest of the team in the ether. It's not a bad way to tackle a team of this size, and given the news that both Magik and Psylocke are getting ongoing solo series, I'm less worried about them getting focus in a team book now.

Where is the Marauder, incidentally? I can't imagine you need that for a psychic rescue? Unless Max is using it, I suppose. Something that'll come up in #5, I imagine.

It's a sign of just how poisoned the discourse about Hank McCoy is that I saw multiple comments on Reddit saying that this scene heralded a return to evil Beast, because he also didn't like to go out on field missions and would regard his work as more important.

That being said, this reaction was weird to me, given that this Hank comes from an era where he was at his most pro-active, heroic, and willing to fight for people he didn't know - until I read the Infinity Comics, which made it all make a good degree more sense.

Hank isn't being cowardly or showing a case of poor priorities; no, instead, he appears not to trust himself, and he'd rather not place what he perceives to be a volatile, potentially morally untrustworthy element (himself) into a live situation. Working on Magneto's illness is a cut and dry net good with no downsides, so it makes sense he'd want to keep working on that, especially if Hank has reason to believe a similar condition could affect any one of them at any time.

Not sure I love Illyana's antagonism towards Rogue here? Feels kinda like it came out of nowhere and is just being done to foreshadow the upcoming 4 part crossover where these two teams come to a head. Scott's frustration with Rogue's attack on Graymalkin in #3 felt a bit more naturalistic than this.

Idie icesliding like that really does make me wonder if MacKay also wanted Iceman for this team but he was earmarked for Eve Ewing's Exceptional book. I doubt it, just because MacKay's done some really good, pointed work with Idie, which continues in this issue, but the visual parallel is just hard to get out of my brain.

I missed this Hank, a lot.

Also, good time to note that we do have a different artist here! Netho Diaz's style isn't a million miles away from Ryan Stegman's, so it's not a very jarring shift, and I do like how Diaz renders a lot of these characters - less heavily stylised, but heavily styilised isn't always to everyone's taste, so I feel like this was a good pick of fill-in artist.

Man. Have I mentioned I missed this Hank, a LOT? That happy little smile on his face in the bottom right panel really does delight me.

Still not quite the bouncing effervescence of Defenders Hank, but this is still very solidly 90s Hank, who I do rather enjoy, especially when he's in the hands of a writer who knows when to really let his loquacious qualities out to play, and when to let brevity be the soul of wit.

Idie's really come a long way since Wolverine & the X-Men, and I'm really, honestly, very happy to see it. She's coming from a place of real experience and wisdom and the struggle of loving yourself in what can feel like a loveless world, and I hope MacKay continues to showcase her maturation and development. Considering how worried I was that she'd be wallpaper in this series, this is encouraging stuff.

If you had asked me which member of this team of X-Men I expected to give what amounts to a really popping Batman speech, I would not have picked Cain Marko, but this feels real and earned in light of his genuine Krakoan redemption. The elevation from avatar of destruction to protector, to bodyguard, to living target, is fucking awesome.

Yeah, work that pole, Hank.

That being said, this dialogue does still sound kinda weird for Hank. This feels a little more like X-Force Beast than anything else, so I'm wondering if this is a seed of something, or if Hank is just kinda frustrated that what feels like a side quest popped up just as he was about to progress the main quest and enter act 2. God knows that if I woke up in the morning and found out I had to tangle with Trevor Fitzroy and the Upstarts, I would also be a little annoyed - this feels a little bottom of the barrel for the X-Men.

The X-Men fandom at large just heaved a great sigh and said, in unison, "Oh, this fucker."

Not the AoA geneticist I would have wanted to see in this book, but I'll take it, I suppose. Hopefully we get an explanation about where this guy came from, because I was fairly certain he was dead? Not that that's ever stopped anyone before, but just, you know, so we can put it on the Wiki and all.

Laksa! Apparently a spicy noodle dish, usually made with thick rice noodles, with toppings such as chicken, straw, or fish - that being said, given we were told that Glob is a vegetarian and that he therefore only cooks vegetarian, I have to imagine this might be a coconut soup laksa that might include eggs, deep-fried tofu, beansprouts, and herbs, or some variation thereof.

Hank definitely seems to approve. :)

God, please tell me that Colossus is going to join the team, I would absolutely love for Jed MacKay to get to work on our beefy Russian lad, he deserves some TLC after the trauma conga line that was Krakoa and the years before that.

Interesting that he's a blocked number and yet they're still interacting, but then again, I have a browser extension that blocks Reddit on my computer, and I still go on Reddit, so maybe that rings truer than I'd like to admit.

This leads me to my guess as to the reason of why chess - it's playable long distance, and doesn't require any elaboration on moves. You just say the piece and where you're moving them to. Something easy to play with someone who doesn't feel communicative. A way of talking without really talking.

All in all, a decent issue, but it definitely feels more in line with #2 than #1 or #3 - I almost have to wonder if the edict to double ship issues came down, and MacKay felt more able to decompress things and spread them out across multiple issues as a result, especially since I think that, if this were paced more tightly, we'd be progressing through the plot fairly quickly.

If we're taking New X-Men as the blueprint, Morrison would absolutely have squished the last four issues into two - but they weren't double shipping, so.

If we're looking at odd numbers being the plot heavy, characterisation heavy issues, and the evens being action and a bit more 'filler' issues, then I don't think that's an awful structure - I just think that, in a world where single issues cost $3-4 a pop, people might start skipping the even numbered issues in an effort to save money. This might read better in trades, which feels A) bad to say, and also B) increasingly common about modern comics. Not sure how I feel about it.