#instead of being 'bad' and trying to be good and then failing

[rainyinautumn]

alright with wild life ep. 4 coming out soon it's time for me to start talking winner predictions. in order to understand my bet, let's first understand why past winners won—and, for bonus effect, why another player who I think really had a shot ultimately lost.

GRIAN. The traffic crown typically falls on the head of whichever player is most able to bend and break the rules to their advantage. 3rd Life, as the archetypal Life Series with the fewest rules to manipulate, was won by the man who understood (and broke) them best—their inventor. Throughout the series, I think Impulse demonstrated a similar cunning and could have been able to pull off a win. His error was failing to establish trust with his allies in a series that was defined by its faction loyalty.

SCOTT. With the introduction of the Boogeyman, Last Life demanded a winner with a level head. With favorable relationships paving the path to regaining lives, there was very little wiggle room for more aggressive, risk-taking players, making this season favor players with high survivability. Continuing the trend of rule breakers, Scott was the only player to weigh the odds and refuse to act on the Boogeyman curse—which ultimately paid off for him. Similarly calculating and loyal is Etho, who lost this win by aligning himself with a volatile group that failed to lend him the stability Scott had throughout the series.

PEARL. It was so, so much easier to die in Double Life than any other series, and so its winner was the player who proved to be able to survive without a soulmate at all. The thing about Life Series gimmicks is that they are always, always the thing that kills you—as such, refusing to engage with them as intended elevates one's chances of victory. Such is the case with Pearl. Cleo also failed to engage with the Double Life mechanic as intended, but lost (ironically) due to her ability to forgive and the endgame belief that aligning with her soulmate was the wisest move.

MARTYN. Limited Life introduced the ability to live longer by killing, and as such encouraged players to pursue maximal violence with minimal risk through traps (namely, falling TNT minecarts). If playing by these rules led to a win, the victor would have been crowned on Skynet. Instead, Martyn broke the season-long strategy and a few series expectations along the way to opt for an absolutely brutal PvP win, which he pulled off by being the only one crazy enough to try. A good few other risk takers had a solid shot of winning this season—namely Joel. Unlike Martyn, however, Joel was unwilling to gamble with the permanent death of his teammates, and this soft spot led to his demise.

SCAR. On the surface level, Secret Life's gimmick asked its contestants to be good at the game—to be good at keeping their mouths shut, good at following directions, and good at reading other players. The kicker with all of the tasks, however, is that the gimmick is the thing that kills you, and what the tasks actually asked was for players to be bad at the game in one way or another. This made earnest attempts at success by far the most risky path forward (especially once yellow names started being able to guess tasks), and as such, Scar's continually baffling behavior worked in his favor. Similarly incomprehensible, Skizz's playstyle lent itself well to this series—however, he was simply too likable. The secretive nature of the tasks in this season brewed a hostile atmosphere in which trustworthiness made one a threat, and the Heart Foundation painted a target on him that he was unable to shed.

So. Who do I think is winning (and almost winning) Wild Life?

GEM. Of all the players in the Snailpocalypse, Gem was the only one to doggedly refuse to fear and avoid her snail. Wild Life is designed to breed uncertainty and chaos in its players, and her refusal to give in to this makes her a good contender for the crown. However, other players have begun to notice this, which could place her in hot water. My second winner pick is BigB—although more willing to engage with the wildcards, BigB has always thrived in the strange and peculiar, making him less outright afraid of them and putting him in position to potentially rise above them down the line.

[urinarythreatinfection]

Mihawk x AFAB Reader? With the • Character reacts to reader's form of affection

Pre-relationship, Reader isn’t being subtle. AT. ALL. About her intentions and constantly flirting and being affectionate with him.. And yet it STILL takes Mihawk a hot minute to realize what she’s doing and go.. “Oh… I see……. well all right then darling.. 😏”

This ended up being more gender neutral, i had to go back and try and atleast hint at AFAB but hey whatever.

Think About It

Mihawk x reader. Female in mind but can be gender neutral. 1165 words. A bit suggestive.

Mihawk isn’t necessarily a dumb, unintelligent, or oblivious man. However, he is an experienced one, unfortunately experience can be as unhelpful as ignorance. Especially when you’ve associated a certain behavior with something else.

“Heyyyy sexy~” You slowly slide your chair over to Mihawk’s side. “What’s a dashing older man like you doing here?”

“Reading.” He states, doing his preferred hobby of passing time.

“An educated man too, how attractive. Bet you’re popular, huh?”

“Hmm.” He’s never thought about it, annoyed by popularity, but he was more popular in his youth. He’s gotten a bit less popular with age though, most likely due to his approachibility getting even worse. “Decently.”

‘Such dry answers… but he’s actually responding instead of brushing me off like with others.’ Your thoughts scramble as you keep flirting. “Well~ I think you’re amazing.” He hums and you tilt your body to rest on his. “Your eyes when you read are really pretty too, I could watch you read for hours.” Usually he’d think nothing of the compliment, even finding it disgusting, but coming from you it’s actually a bit… flattering. His hawk-like eyes move from the book to look at at you, piercing and mezmerising. “Kyaa~ My heart just skipped a beat.” You half-joke with a hand on your chest. A certain behavior to him associated with a Red Haired man. Your true intentions are going over his head, his mind subconsiously filtering jokes like these as only jokes.

“I recommend seeing a doctor.” He brushes it off as he would with that weird redhead, looking back at his book. This isn’t working, mission failed and you sigh, eventually retreating to your room.

Later he finds you in the kitchen with a bottle of wine, “Oh, hey!” swishing it around with a wink when you see him. “Must be fate you came here just as I did, maybe we’re just meant to be.” You hold out the bottle to him and he walks up to you, taking it.

“I suppose so.” He’s actually fairly pleased this has happened, pouring both of you a glass.

“Right? We’re fated to be together, like Romeo and Juliet~” You say with a dreamy sigh, laying your head on his shoulder.

“The two of them die.” He points out, taking a sip from his glass while you flinch.

“Not… that part.” You step back. “Though I wouldn’t mind dying if it were oh so romantically with you~” You strike a pose of longing, hand reaching out to him. He places your wine glass in it.

“I would mind. I prefer you alive.” Mihawk states, not much to say, but for him it is. You end up getting flustered like he just professed his love.

“Thanks.. I prefer you alive too..” Failed again.

__________

Mihawk comes back from a mission looking irritated, immediately going for a bottle of wine when you spot him. “Welcome back, babe, you need a bath? I could even get in with you.” His mind is fresh from fighting, in a bad mood from it being annoying. One of the targets had escaped, making him have to waste time looking for them. Not hard, but out of the way enough to be irritating. Especially when the “battle” itself was hardly anything, being interrupted by the target accidentally causing their own demise. It leaves Mihawk feeling pent up, unfulfilled.

“I don’t need your assistance in bathing, (Y/n).” He shuts you down, quickly looking for a glass when you hand one to him. Wasting no time, he pours the liquid inside and takes a big gulp. It’s a little hot seeing him like this.

“Good view, if it makes you feel better I could always give you one too.” You walk over to him and press your chest against his arm. “If you’d let me~” He gently pushes you away.

“Not now. Your company is… nice, but I don’t need jokes.” He gulps down the rest of the wine and sighs in relief.

“Who said I’m joking?”

“I’m being quite serious.” Mihawk’s adamant and you sigh, pushing him like this would only make things worse when he’s in this mood.

“Alright. No view then, I get it. Call me if you need me~” You say with a purr, rubbing your cheek against him before leaving. Once you’re gone he grumbles, he didn’t want you to leave he just wanted you to stop messing around. It isn’t fun hearing someone who’s words you could actually take to heart play around with it. He almost finishes the entire bottle before deciding to bathe, wanted to feel clean and relax.

Mihawk sighs, his muscles untensing as he lowers himself into the hot water after cleaning himself properly. Much better. His mind, scrambled from stress, begins to come together as he starts to think of your adcances. He’s always assumed they were like Shanks’s, just jokes, and hadn’t thought really though about it more than that; but now that he’s allowing himself to look further he realizes more. They’re different than his, more bold, more flirtatious, and more often than Red Hair. The captain had usually just sprinkled them in with his other annoying babbling, but you joke flirt so frequently.

…

‘Perhaps these are not jokes?’ Something clicks in the swordsman’s mind and he gets up from the bath, drying off before getting dressed to see you. If this is true and they havent been jests he needs to make sure. He finds you back at the kitchen, about to drink your sorrows away before spotting him.

“Oh, you’re quicker than usual. Miss me too much?” He doesn’t respond, instead just getting closer to you. “Hug?” You hug him gladly, “I’d never miss the chance to be close to you.” You expect him to just pull back or accept it with a sigh as he usually does, but you feel his arms sneak around your body to hug you back. It makes you freeze in shock, not expecting your affection to be returned.

“(Y/n). Continue talking.” He says when you go silent.

“Huh.. yeah?” You’re confused, face hot.

“You enjoy my body, yes? Enjoy it.” He hugs you tighter, letting you feel his muscular build against you. “Take this chance.” You’re getting more flustered, why is he getting so into this so suddenly? He pulls back enough to look at you. “Enjoy the view as well.” This is a lot. Thankfully you’re too shameless to refuse so you take in the sight of him while feeling his warmth close to yours.

“This is the best.” You mumble and unconsciously reach a hand out to touch his cheek, he leans into it, closing his eyes. You’re reacting positively, he was right, and now that he knows he isn’t going to let this pass by.

“(Y/n).” He suddenly speaks and you jolt slightly.

“Y-Yeah?”

“I'll take your offer.” He places his hand over yours, opening his eyes to look into yours. “I would like to see the view.”

[supersmashsoni]

An idea for another Brenner Era Season

1. Haulage Capacity: When an old haulage wagon Skarloey used back in the early days is restored by the Earl, Peter Sam gets the chance to ride it and enjoys it. Trouble ensues when he forgets to mind his limits when he tries to help a broken-down Henry to the next station.

2. Edward and the Express: When Gordon fails, Edward is given the Express despite the big engine’s protests. Edward tries his best, but a faulty coupling might spoil his chances.

3. Alfie to the Rescue: Alfie feels left out when the rest of the Pack gets to help with a spring celebration. He gets his chance to shine when Thomas has an accident.

4. BoCo’s New Driver: BoCo gets a new driver, but he quickly proves to be rude and inexperienced, ending with the diesel being sent down to Brendam by mistake. The driver tries to improve for the better, but BoCo struggles to accept it.

5. Sticking it to Percy After an argument with Henry, Percy intentionally gives him a heavy train as a prank. This plan backfires when the small engine has to take the train himself after Henry is delayed.

6. Mavis and the Trolls Mavis tries to spook Toby with a story about trolls cleaning up the quarry at night. Toby winds up turning the prank against her when he takes Sir Topham Hatt on a late-night visit to collect some rocks for a garden.

7. May the Best Engine Win!: Thomas and Emily have a friendly competition to see who will get their work done quicker. Things seem neck-and-neck until one of Emily’s loads spills at a sharp bend.

8. Nia's Perfect Plan When Nia is given several jobs, she comes up with a plan to get it all done on time. When the plan starts to fall apart though, she stubbornly sticks to it.

9. Leave After the Bluebell!: The engines are excited when Stepney is due to visit the island again after a long overhaul and hold a welcome party for him. Stepney however winds up nearly missing his own party when he offers to cover Norman’s work after the diesel fails at Vicarstown.

"The Festive Season" DVD:

10. Hannah and the Avalanche: Hannah finds herself bored by the care Toby and Henrietta take during winter and decides to travel with Thomas instead for some excitement. She learns to be careful what she wishes for when Thomas accidentally brings snow down at Hackenbeck Tunnel, burying Hannah.

11. Can He Handel It?: Sir Handel starts taking heavier stone trains to finish his goods work earlier. This mixed with a blizzard spells disaster.

12. Gordon's Christmas Special Gordon is put in charge of a special Christmas train but will have to miss spending Christmas with his friends. This results in Gordon having a nasty argument with the other engines when he suggests he doesn't want to. Scotsman may have a way to make things right.

13. Spencer’s Snowslide: After Rebecca gets covered in snow at Crovan’s Gate, Spencer teases her insufferably. He eats his own words when he slides into a blockage at a tunnel.

14: Coal Competition: Max and Monty compete to deliver the most coal one winter. This leads to an embarrassing accident with Trevor and his cart when Monty doesn’t watch where he is going.

Back to normal episodes:

15: Norman Mixes it Up: Norman tries to prove he is more than his faulty engine through helping out the other engines with their work. He winds up accidently having to do several jobs at once, leading to him pulling one of the strangest mixed trains the Island’s ever seen.

16: Bad to the BoCo: Jealous of all the praise BoCo receives, Diesel challenges the big diesel to a strength competition. BoCo is reluctant to take part but does so accidentally when he accidentally takes the train Diesel put together for the competition…with Diesel still at the other end!

17: Bulgy and the Twins: While helping out around Edward’s branchline, Bulgy tries to cause trouble for the engines. He soon runs afoul of Bill and Ben, who trick him into trying to appease a transportation inspector.

18: Holding Your Buffers: Stanley assumes the famous Stepney is used to being pampered on the mainland and tries to give him the same on Sodor, unaware Stepney is annoyed with his overbearingness and losing the chance to do real work again. Things come to a head when Stanley tries to take a passenger train for a delayed Stepney.

19: Read All About It: Frank, the Small Railway’s new diesel, feels left out after learning that the other engines were in a book and accidently hits the back of the shed in anger. He redeems himself when Rex has steaming issues, and Frank comes to the rescue.

20: Rosie’s Passengers: Rosie is asked to cover for Thomas, but her overeagerness leads to her accidentally beating Percy to the junction and she winds up going to Knapford Harbor by mistake.

"Summer at the Seaside" DVD

21: Terri-ing Them Apart: A new engine named Terri, and her snarky brake van Clarice, arrive to help Ryan and Daisy on the Harwick Branchline. After a near miss, Ryan mistakes Terri’s generally nervous nature for her being afraid of him and he tries to make amends, which only stresses Terri out more.

22: Only I in Team: Frank grumbles about having to clean up after the other small engines. He winds up being truer than he thinks when a drought leads to the steam engines being taken out of service, leaving Frank to handle the railway by himself.

23: Terri and the Trucks: Terri’s timid nature makes her an easy target for the troublesome ballast trucks. The Scottish Twins give her advice to keep the trucks in line, but she overestimates the effectiveness of their methods, leading to a tense struggle up Gordon’s Hill.

24: Clarice and James: Clarice is rather impulsive and enjoys picking a fight. This leads to chaos when James has to take over one of Terri’s trains, and Clarice decides to taunt the red engine. The two's bickering soon leads to trouble.

25: Perfect Porter: When Porter covers for Philip at Tidmouth, he decides to rearrange the shunting arrangements to be closer to what he thinks is perfect. This leads to chaos when the other engines can’t make sense of the new organization system.

26: Skiff and the Dolphins: Skiff discovers a group of dolphins living around Arlesburgh. However, when some hunters try to illegally catch them, Skiff tries to save them.

[jorrated]

as a kid, i was so mad we didnt get to see an anti-fiona. so here she is as Ciara... and anti-nic is there too i guess

[joelletwo]

v what realization did i have the other day. i think thinking about the agoraphobia and where the hell that came from bc other than the ambient Scared Of Everything anxiety i never really had a prompting fear and i also had the behaviors like. as far back into my childhood as i cant remember. so the impulse was to go 'oh im just [dismissive self insults] then'

but then i thought no actually like. avoidance feels like a perfectly reasonable possible response to the autism/shit parents experience of like. whats the. some rat study where arbitrary shocks were applied vs predictable/prompted ones and eventually the arbitrary group rats just give up and stop trying stuff. when youre doing normal kid exploring what behaviors are okay investigation. and you cant figure out any pattern or consistency to which behaviors get punished and which dont. u stop trying stuff and trying stuff gives u fear of being punished.

[nomairuins]

i like overthink everything now it makes me feel so dumb. i used 2 be able to just talk 2 ppl but nowadays every single thing im like Is that actually going to make them hate me. Yes probably. and then i just dont respond which makes ppl hate me. this is how it is

[marsbotz]

gruxime makes me a little insaneeeee esp from maximes perspective cus its like. damn. a hell of my own creation.

[beneathsilverstars]

i know i was just complaining about stylizing loop's body but i figured that out and moved on and it turns out the head is so much harder 😭 i'm very happy with canon loop head and post-bodycraft loop head but the in-between phase is kicking my ASS and i can't just half-ass it bc figuring out the in-between head is the ENTIRE POINT of this WHOLE PROJECT....

i think part of the problem might be that unlike with the body, i do have an extremely clear idea of what is happening with the head physically and how it would look irl, it's just. a very difficult thing to draw. so i keep rejecting ideas that look good bc they're not my actual headcanon, but then also rejecting attempts to faithfully depict the headcanon bc they don't look good. head in my hands

[autisticlee]

I know it's wrong and bad to say this, but sometimes I really hate when my friends have other friends. (specifically when I can't also be friends with those friends) because every time I want someone to hang out with or talk to, the only couple friends I have are always busy with their other friends. when I want to plan something with them, they will always choose the other friends over me. they will cancel plans *with* me as soon as other friends ask, but won't cancel plans *for* me when i ask. they will use up their social spoons on other friends and leave none for me. always putting things with me off or simply not responding at all.

i'm always told by random people when I say I want mkre friends "it's better to have a couple great friends than many aquantances" or something like that. but honestly it sucks because you can't rely on 1-2 people to always be there for you every day or every week when you want or need someone. if you keep asking, you're seen as annoying and clingy and they will ignore you eventually (or worse)

it's annoying that they get to fill their social needs at all times, but I never get to. because i'm never the one that gets to go first in the social queue. and when it gets to my turn, it refreshes and i'm pushed to the back again.

the only solution I can ever think of is being friends with my friends' friends too....but for some reason!!!!!! that never works out!!!! (if my friends will even share their friends with me to begin with)

[om0000]

wander is DEF fucked emotionally i jyst didnt feel like fitting 2 paragraphs into 1 image also. comeduc effect ig BUT YEAH I SIGN UNDER EVERY WORD

this is starryeyed to me

[buttercupshands]

Thinking about what happened in the summer

Kids are... Really different when it comes to spending three weeks without their parents

Some start crying near the end of first day

Some start crying after couple of days

And some don't show anything while feeling the same

And being... I think English has a good word for that, let's go with a teacher but mix it with caretaker a little bit

I think seeing a kid cry at the end of that first day finally short circuited my brain, teens are way harder to understand that pre-teens who are literally still kids

They come around after a week, settle down and find new friends and your job stays the same mostly to be the one controlling their behavior

And then you'd have a kid crying again, because they miss home and the only thing you can really do is comfort them that they're not stuck here forever and that time flows so fast they won't notice it

And maybe they didn't. Time really did flew and they were leaving

Parents visited kids sometimes, of course, and it was so scary at first but they were mostly friendly and nice

Maybe because of that group chat that let them see that their kids are fine and are having fun

In the end for kids it was painful at first, but fun in the end. I got hugged more times than I could count when they were all leaving

And then poof

Back to your own life you go, like nothing happened

[joelsgoldrush]

“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k

worst!logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.

A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. ���Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[catfishofoldin99colours]

mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm Bad.

[readymades2002]

it is very frustrating because my mom does not know What The Deal Is but she certainly Suspects (for good reason. to be fair to her.) and she has Insinuated and she has Implied but she has not asked anything specifically. and its...not unreasonable for her to do this i guess because the last relationship i was in i didn't tell her for a year and a half. because the relationship BEFORE that was my first and it was with a girl and i asked her EXPLICITLY AND URGENTLY to not tell my dad about it because he was a massive homophobe and i knew this and saw this where she did not and she told him anyway and i have not trusted her since though, having few other options, i have continued to confide in her things that i should not confide in her that have then mysteriously made their way through all our shared coworkers back to me. and its.....its so. i don't know what to do about it. she..."stalked" is the wrong word but she followed my blog against my wishes and knowledge as a child and the more i lost trust in her and stopped talking to her the more she pried into my private life. i know my sister had similar experiences with her. and it has created this cycle where i keep trying to keep her out for my own privacy and dignity and safety and she just gets even more desperate and pathetic trying to get in after breaking my trust over and over and OVER again but i live with her and depend on her for far too many things and so it just. is this. awesomesauce

[eau-duresistance]

My favourite things about the whole OceanGate disaster, in no particular order

That the vessel was originally named Cyclops II but the CEO renamed it to Titan, so it’s even BETTER than the Titanic

He also called it indestructible

The guy piloting the vessel is an ex-naval captain who has been on several titanic manned trips. But the guy is 77 rn

The billionaire from Pakistan is apparently friends with King Charles. You’d think for someone who’s besties with a guy whose job was literally being born, he’d care more about protecting his bloodline. Instead, he brought his 19 year old with him

Meanwhile, the stepson of one of the other billionaires (I think the British one named Hamish) went to a Blink 182 concert. When questioned about this, he basically went “my family would want me to go to the concert”. Today, minutes after posting about asking for thoughts and prayers, he @‘ed an OF model on Twitter, asking her to sit on his face

Bc it’s part of the safety demo & music track list for the trip, there is a VERY good chance that if there’s still some power left in the sub, it’s playing an instrumental of My Heart Will Go On on loop

Also, the vessel is a submersible bc it doesn’t meet literally any of the safety regulations to be called a submarine. Which the CEO knew, because he’s blatantly said that safety regulations get in the way of progress

The CEO once stated that he thought the future of humanity was not in space, but in the ocean when the surface becomes uninhabitable

Apparently the controller he’s using has REAL bad reviews because the connection always fails

These idiots paid $250k EACH but they had to pack their own lunch. Not even a damn charcuterie board

The pilot’s seat is on the toilet. So whenever someone needs to go, the pilot needs to move

There’s 1 window looking out. That’s it

It’s about the size of a minivan

The sub uses texts (but only to the CEO’s phone) to communicate, as well as StarLink, but they can only access that if they surface

The door literally cannot be opened from inside

There is a decent chance that at least 1 person has been cannibalized (my bet was the pilot since he’s not rich, but bc of the banging sounds, he’s probs not dead, so it may be the CEO)

They’re supposed to run out of oxygen tomorrow (22/06/23) at 7 am est, but tbh, the CO2 scrubber system will probs fail before that

The toilet is a plastic bag

This is only the 3rd time in 3 years the vessel has gone to the Titanic. Every other time, there’s an issue and they gotta turn back within like 4 hours

A lot of major news networks are trying to remain positive, but it’s a HILARIOUS comparison when you go to social media and every single person is like “yeah that shit is built like a cardboard boat, they’re fucked”

The company’s name is literally called OceanGate

[bunbunlovestowrite]

How the Hashira men react to your neighbor asking you to be quiet

Characters: Tengen, Sanemi, Rengoku, Obanai, Gyomei, Giyuu,

Additional shit: Swearing, Sanemi fighting said neighbor, Rengoku being blunt, mentions of sex, ooc mot likely :p

Tengen

He couldn't care less

His whole thing is being flashy and loud so he wants you to be loud

Like it's not his fault that dick is magical

After he shoos your neighbor away he makes sure to be as loud as possible that night

He's pounding into your cunt and you swear your gonna break when he whispers "okay now scream exactly how big my dick is. Don't forget the tip color-"

He gets cut off by you hitting him with the pillow

Way to ruin the mood

But that doesn't stop him and instead he goes harder, making sure the bed creaks loud ASF for your neighbor

"Not my fault he doesn't know how to please a woman." Is his main reason for doing so

He really wants you to scream his name so it's imbedded in your neighbors head

"Morning N/N!" Him to your neighbor from the balcony while your trying to get out of bed and failing

"Actually die." Both you and your neighbor to Tengen

Sanemi

Cares alot

Why the fuck is that limp dick biscuit talking to you and him? Who does he think he is?

You were the one who broke the news to him thankfully cause if Sanemi was the one who opened the door then you'd have to see your husband through glass in a prison

Just kidding. The Slayer corp would get him out of trouble if he didn't do it himself.

Anyways

Sanemi made it his goal to piss your neighbor off as much as possible

Your under him, practically creaming on his cock, and he's slamming the wall yelling "This loud enough yet?! Huh!?"

Not kidding I can see him doing that

He quite literally had you against a window where your neighbors could see him destroying you just to make them mad or uncomfortable, hopefully both.

But then he'd get pissed someone else would see you all naked and fucked out so he settled for the wall next to the window

One day your neighbor, finally having enough, bangs on your door yelling and guess who opens it...Sanemi!!

Good Lord was he waiting for this

It took one punch and the guy was out

Kinda what happens when you put a normal dude against a guy who kills demons for a living

Rengoku

He's a good neutral between caring and not caring

Like he doesn't wanna make your neighbors mad but he also loves hearing your screams

So he tries to keep you quiet during sex but fails since he gets to into it to give a fuck

The next days his loud ass voice wakes you up

"IM SORRY FOR MAKING INCREDIBLE LOVE TO MY WIFE!" He's not being sarcastic thats his genuine apology

Your facepalming and you want to die when you see your neighbor and she can't look at you

"PERHAPS SHES MAD BECAUSE HER HUSBAND CANNOT PLEASE HER!" Rengoku says casually and you know she can hear you from outside in her garden

"Inside voices!" You place your hands over his mouth to try and shut him up.

It works for a bit before he's yelling again

You love your husband but holy shit you wish he would speak normally sometimes

He's actually quiet in bed though

So your the problem (real)

Obanai

I'm not an Obanai fan so forgive me for how bad his section will be

Obanai is a quiet mf, and you're not even that loud

It's your neighbor who was the problem

A little old man whose hearing aids apparently had the power of 67 suns

You and Obanai found this out when he was outside training and your neighbor came over

He was so sweet and polite and even chuckled at Obanai's redness

Obanai cared at first but got over it

You? You make sure to not make a PEEP in bed

Okay that pisses Obanai off but he understands your reasons

At least make a gasp or sum cause he's over here like "Wait does this feel good? Can she feel it? Did I forget where the clit is?"

Brother is STRESSING

Then you cum and he's like "ah"

Then he's like "Did you take it?"

You have to keep yourself from murdering him cause how tf would you fake squirting

Gyomei

Babe I'm not gonna lie, you're a screamer

Gyomei is built like a house and your telling me your just gonna whine and whimper?

NO

Your over here crying and screaming into his chest, neck, the pillow, anything.

And Gyomei loves it!

He can't see your reactions so hearing and feeling them let's him know he's doing good

Gyomei isn't loud but he's not quiet

He'll grunt and moan and praise you, but he's not gonna cry out.

Well he'll cry but you can never tell from what

When the pussy so good you start crying 😭🙏

When your neighbor politely asked you to be a tad bit quieter Gyomei actually laughed

Not in a 'nah we'll keep being loud' way but more of a 'sorry we'll be quiet' way. He also found it hilarious how you actually died of embarrassment.

Don't worry he thinks its endearing

Yet it was kinda hard for him since he enjoyed hearing you

But your touches and now quieter moans made that better

And then there's also you literally drawing blood from his back you were scratching so hard

Giyuu

Holy shit you have never seen him so embarrassed

Like you could shade match his Haori to him and get the exact same color

He was the one your neighbor told and he stopped working when 'loud' and 'moaning' left their lips

If a demon doesn't kill him then his own actions will

Giyuu isn't loud, and he loves that he can make you feel so good that your loud for him.

But he didn't want your neighbor back over at your house so he tried to keep you quiet

You were super confused when he held his hand over your mouth in bed and he just pointed to your neighbors house. Then you got it.

So you nod and try to keep quiet.

You know in school when the teacher tells you and a friend to shut up but they look at you funny and you break?

Yeah that was you

You were riding Giyuu one night and you were loud so he was like "holy shit I love you but please- I can't look our neighbor in the eyes anymore."

And you couldn't help but laugh

Like howling

You calmed down obviously but sex was very giggle filled after that

You've never seen Giyuu so panicked

But give him a week and he'll stop caring