#it WOULD look more cohesive that way and i DO need practice……

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 324

gonna be another jacket patch once i figure out what i wanna do with the border

[magiturge]

I'm now curious what and/or who has the most cool factor in Hank's opinion (aside from itself, of course)

-💻🌌

it's.. kind of varied. i got tired of writing by hand so please look under the cut for context, i talked about in a previous post a headcanon that hank feels no physical attraction to anyone in the sense of thinking someone is "hot" "pretty" "sexy" but views appearance in a lens of how cool it is / cool factor. it does not vocalize this unless there's nothing else to talk about while also not super focused on something else.

for deimos : deimos's style isn't exactly something hank would wear but it can respect the craftsmanship that was put into the outfit. ( i.e. drawings on shoes, keychains on backpack ) he does think his outfit is kind of cool but just wouldn't wear it. the cigarette is cool.. aesthetically / visually but in practice with how much deimos hacks and coughs, it gets a bit lame and displeasing.

for doc : thinks that whatever doc is wearing is fitting for him, he would wear the style as casual wear but not as full on / main outfit. it fits for the purpose of doc being someone who lays low and doesnt get involved in missions as much as hank does. hank thinks doc does look a bit cool with the mohawk but thinks doc being bald is kind of funny. not really cool, but funny and fitting.

for sanford : overwhelmingly neutral. hank thinks it's a pretty plain outfit, that sanford could do more with it but it's fitting nonetheless. sanford doesn't need to change but it would be nice if he could add a little something to it. he thinks sanford's back tattoo is cool though.

for jeb : very.. very tacky. leaning into savior image way too much. to hank it's like a mish mash of elements that could work together but jeb is not wearing it properly. he thinks it fits jeb but because it fits doesnt mean it thinks its cool. thinks his sunglasses are stupid.

for tricky : thinks her style is kind of weird but it is consistent and fitting. it's weird but kind of cool, it's sort of like jeb in the sense that it is a mish mash of elements but they seem more cohesive and lean into each other more.

for phobos : looks stupid. very stupid. his opinion is offset by how much it saw of phobos's statues in nexus city, already got the feeling that this guy was full of himself. he thinks the red cape is tacky and stupid, similar to jeb in theres elements that could work but it's executed poorly. low on the cool.

for auditor : thinks they have potential but are wasting it. likes the black and red color combination.. for obvious reasons. they have a lot of potential being someone who shapeshifts and can look like they have flames coming off of them but thinks that auditor is wasting their potential / putting presentation in the wrong areas. makes themselves look lame. summoning swords out of nowhere is COOL but they carry themselves poorly.

for sheriff : doing too much in the sense of wearing way too much. opinion is offset because fighting with him is really annoying so it dislikes the outfit for different reasons but in a vaccuum, it's too much. likes his leather chaps, would wear them if he found a pair that fit.

[lou-struck]

Distracting

Keiji Akaashi x reader

College AU!

WC: 2k

~ Thanks to the new library aid, your once quiet study spot has become much more… Distracting

a/n: sorry I have been gone for so long, it's been hard to do things lately. I hope you like this one. I tried to make it cohesive but when you start something and stop it in bi-weekly intervals you tend to loose yourself a bit in the process.

There is always that one damn professor who takes an extra step to make their course more challenging for students for no reason in particular.  

Yours is your history professor, known throughout the campus as Dr. Asshole. He is known for handwriting confusing exam questions and surprise Pop Quizzes on material chapters ahead of the assigned reading.

His newest pretentious obsession is assigning massive papers and requiring that his students research the whole thing using non-digital sources. This wouldn't be an issue normally, but your university is in the middle of nowhere, and there are at least a hundred students in this particular class. Which means every desperate student looking to raise their grade will be flocking to the library trying to find as many sources they can.

As soon as your class and you start your usual walk to the university's library, your usual study spot, and hope it will be the goldmine of information you need it to be. 

The sliding glass doors part for you as you enter. The faint smell of books wafts under your nose as you enjoy the natural sunlight that streams in through the glass skylights. The quiet, studious atmosphere lacks the noisy distractions that are back at your place. The air is comfortable, not too warm, and not too cold.

Your usual table is bare and sun-soaked under the glass skylights. Your book bag slides stiffly down your shoulder, and you wonder if it would be a good idea to leave it unattended for a few minutes.

Your eyes scan the room. There are a few students lounging in the corner on some large beanbags, Little white earbuds snug in their ears as they scroll through their sleek, thin, laptops. You see the back of one of the Library assistants slowly pushing a cart of books down a lowly lit aisle. 

Your gut tells you that you can trust the small group of randos. You set your bag down on the table so you can begin your search for academic materials. Slowly, you make your way down the rows of books. The space has never looked cleaner; all the selves, even the hard-to-reach ones, are free of dust, and as you flip through possible sources, you notice that someone has taken the time to smooth out previously dog-eared pages and pluck out the old bookmarks. 

After only searing the shelves for a few minutes, you have an uncomfortably tall stack of books in your arms. 

For balance, you stretch your chin out to steady the stack as you start to walk back to your table. The smooth laminate of the book jackets causes your literary mountain to quake as you shuffle through the shelves. Your arms burning from the weight as you turn a blind corner. 

There's a crash

There's some cursing

And you are on the ground…The books clattering to the floor around you as you wonder how you ended up face to carpet. 

Books are scattered all around you as a hand comes into your peripheral. It extends itself toward you as if it was trying to help you up.

"Are you alright!? I am so sorry." the voice of its owner says. Their voice laced with genuine concern as you take in the worried face of and the dark, slightly-messy hair of Keiji Akaashi. You know him as the setter for your university's Volleyball team. 

You have only ever seen him with his friends walking to practice or from the stands whenever you make it to a home game. Never up close like this. He is so handsome that you wonder if you hit your head during your fall to have just noticed it.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks again, and you realize that you haven't answered him at all. You must've been too busy admiring how great the lean athlete looks in his cream-colored sweater.

"Yeah," you reply, taking his hand and allowing him to help you to your feet. "I'm all right."j

"Really?' His blue eyes are looking you over again as if he doesn't believe you.

You know your head and give him a sweet smile. "I'm positive. I'll take a whole lot more than a book cart to take me out."

"That's a relief." he chuckles, "I guess I got a bit distracted earlier." his gaze casting downwards slightly. They embarrassingly land on a half-open book, which must be the cause of this whole thing. 

"Pride and Prejudice?" you muse, craning your neck to view the title. "Good choice. I'd get distracted too."

"It's a great book." he sighs, "But I should've been paying more attention to where I was going. Especially with the cart, those wheels are stubborn." 

You look at the cart behind him and find yourself agreeing with him. The library may have been renovated fairly recently, but those carts were not included in the remodel. "I see what you mean; they certainly have seen better days." Your fingers reach out to gently tug at the peeling top layer of paint on the cart. The tan color covers up chipped and uneven coats of grays and black from years past. 

It brings a silly smile to your lips when you think about the similar paint job covering the light switches back at your rental. College housing does not have the highest caliber or repairs, and so it is often subjected to the 'landlord special.'

You notice that he is watching you, his blue eyes scanning your features like he is reading a book. They flicker from your eyes to your mouth as if he is trying to discern what you are thinking at that moment. 

This careful attention isn't creepy at all. It's rather endearing. Especially coming from someone as blatantly attractive as Keiji Akaashi. 

Your cheeks burn with embers of youthful bashfulness, and you hope that he doesn't notice.

"Oh wow, you were really carrying a lot of books," he comments, looking away from you long enough to notice your stack of fallen library books. Without any hesitation, he crouches down and begins gathering the pile for you. 

"You think so?" you ask. "I still don't know if I have enough for my assignment." the somber tone of your voice causes the library aide to inspect the large stack of books in his arms.

"Let me guess, you have Dr. Asshole this semester." he chuckles dryly. "I had him last spring."

"He's really the worst," you chuckle. "I just want to get this paper over with before everyone is fighting over the same three books."

"I remember that," he laments, "Bokuto- uhh, my friend was in that class for about one hour before he dropped it. I think that was the smartest thing he has ever done."

"I think I'm a bit too stubborn to drop." you chuckle, holding your arms out to take the books from his sweater-clad arms. 

"And I'm a bit too stubborn to give these back to you." he glances at the tables behind you. "Where are we taking these?" 

"I- can take them back myself," you say defiantly, a light playfulness to your tone.

"I'm sure you can. But it's the least I can do after running you over with a book cart."

"It's hard to argue with that logic. My spot is right there." you point to your lonely table as he follows behind you. Easily carrying the stack of books you had selected. 

Having a gorgeous man carry your books was something you thought only existed in coming-of-age rom-coms (or whatever). But now that it's happening in real life, you can't say that the experience is not enjoyable.

"Is there alright?" he asks, gesturing to the tabletop. When you nod, he sets the pile down at your spot and notices that there is a student waiting by the checkout counter, their fingers drumming impatiently against the wood. Keiji sees them and lets out a deep sigh, "I guess I have to get back to work, but if you need any help finding more books for your paper, I'd be more than happy to help."

You hate that this little moment, whatever it was, is over. But you understand that he has a job to do, and so do you. "Thank you, I will definitely let you know if my pile is too small."

He smiles so genuinely at your words that you start to wonder if him hitting you with that book cart is one of the best things to ever happen to you. 

As he walks away, you get settled into your seat and take the first book from your pile. Your eyes scan over the crinkly, water-damaged pages without really processing anything. 

How could you think about anything other than Keiji Akaashi, the volleyball-playing, sweater-wearing, snarky library assistant who keeps glancing over at you from his desk?

You hide your smile with the palm of your hand, determined to pretend to be engrossed in your studies.

~

Half an hour later, you have not made any progress on your paper at all. Your poor, distracted brain tries to read those tiny words. But you can't comprehend anything. So you're just staring down at the pages with a furrowed brow.

It's not your fault, really…

It's his…

You wonder if he takes pleasure in distracting little old you. 

As if to test this theory of yours, you shyly glance back over at the checkout counter only to make direct eye contact with Akaasi. His blue eyes shine almost mockingly as if to say, 'I caught you.'

You look back at your incomprehensible book, trying to make your movements as natural as possible. But from the corner of your eye, you notice that he's coming over. 

"Someone just turned this one in," he says, placing a well-loved book at the top of your pile. "I thought it would help you with your paper."

"Thank you." you beam, not realizing that your empty page of notes is shining up at him. 

"It's not a problem." he smiles. 'You may want to move on from that one; it doesn't seem to be giving you anything useful."

He caught you. You feel that familiar, embarrassing heat creeping its way up your neck. You shake it away and look at him with a reassuring smile.

"Masterpieces take time." you chuckle, "What would Dr. Asshole say if he found out I rushed through this precious little paper of his."

He leans against the wood. "There's a difference between taking your time and getting distracted." the way he murmurs that last word sends the butterflies resting in your stomach flying all over the place. Their imaginary wings tickle your heart as they travel upwards.

"Just watch." you grin, taking a new book off of your pile. "I am about to make so much progress."

"I'll believe it when I see it," he says, turning to walk back to his table. You may not notice it, but the tips of his ears are flushed a deep shade of pink as he glances back at you from over his shoulder.

Determinedly, you read away. Jotting down little bits of information with a newfound energy. Cute library aides may be distracting, but passing this class is a bit more important at this moment.

You manage to get a decent amount of work done before your water bottle runs dry. 

The warm air makes studying without it rather uncomfortable, so you grab the cylinder and take it to the water fountain near the bathroom. 

By the time you come back to your spot, you notice a little blue notecard on your tabletop taped to a pack of gum.

Sorry again for running you over. I had to go to practice, but I hope this makes up for it. - K. Akaashi

In this moment, you couldn't care less about the gum. How could you when his phone number is carefully printed at the bottom of the card?

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[gabessquishytum]

Was reminiscing about a part of my life I sort of just forgot about and decided to make it dreamling. Yolo.

Dream is incredibly insecure about his body. He’s always wearing tons of layers and long coats and doing everything possible to hide how unattractive he thinks he is. Then for his birthday, Desire signs him up for pole dancing classes (they frame it very teasingly, but in truth they really do think it would be good for their brother. They’d never say that to his face though). Luckily they have Death on their side and manage to convince him to at least try out one class.

He shows up very very nervous. He’s wearing exercise clothes, but still as fully covered as he can be and practically shrinking into himself. But the studio is honestly… very comfortable. The lights are dim, and there’s soft music playing and pillows on the ground, and while the poles are very intimidating, there’s not a single mirror in the whole place. And of course, the instructor is so welcoming and soothing, and so patient with Dream’s nervousness (and the nerves of the other students- it’s a little relieving almost to know he’s not the only one insecure and nervous). It also helps, Dream is a little ashamed to admit, that the instructor doesn’t look the way he expected. He’s heavier set, with abundant body hair, and loose torn up gym clothes.

As the class goes on, Dream feels… better than he expected. Everyone else is learning with him, there’s no mirrors to obsess over what he looks like, and they���re all encouraged to be vocal in their compliments and encouragement to each other. Dream starts to feel more in touch with his body, feeling how it moves to do the simple spins they start with. The instructor always reminds them- here, they’re dancing for themselves. If they feel good, then that’s what matters.

And at the end of the class, the students all take a seat on the pillows on one side of the room, and are told to pick a song for their instructor to perform a dance to. He improvs a simple routine, but incorporates the moves they learned in that day's class, while also showing them how those moves are foundational for more complex spins and tricks, and how they can all build together into a cohesive dance. Dream is enraptured, watching how strong and elegant he is, but also how happy and how comfortable he seems. Dream realizes that more than looking any certain way, he wants, so badly, to feel like that.

Hob gets it. He’s been there. He used to be so down and negative about his body, too caught up in his insecurities to really live life. He got lucky that his friend Johanna dragged him to his first pole dancing class. He got even luckier that the instructor, Eleanor, was so kind and patient with him, even as he fumbled and resisted any pushback to his negative self worth. He learned a lot in those classes- he learned how amazing his body really was, and developed an honest passion for pole dancing, which was lovingly encouraged by his instructor-turned-wife. When Eleanor passed, he took over the studio in her honor.

Apparently, he’s following in her footsteps more than he expected… by falling for one of his students.

-🦇

Pole dancing Hob!!!! We all need a pole dancing Hob!!!!

Dream is surprised to find that he wants to go back to the class a second time. He's even more surprised that he finds the courage to take off his hoodie and do the class with bare arms - considering how much he generally covers up, its a big step for him. He's a little overwhelmed, honestly, and finds himself lingering in the studio after the class is over. He's trying to soak up how the place makes him feel, hoping that he can take some of that feeling home with him.

Hob notices him and the two end up sitting on the cushions together, where Dream admits that he's struggling with these complex thoughts about his body and self worth. He makes some kind of throwaway remark - "I wish I looked more like you, I wish i had your confidence." and Hob chuckles gently. He explains that it took him a long time to be at peace with his body. He spent way too long over-exercising and trying to maintain a physique that just wasn't healthy for him. Now he considers himself to be in the best shape of his life because he's HAPPY, and having a bit of cushioning is just an added bonus.

Dream is a little bit in awe. He's never had an honest conversation about bodies and stuff like that before. He's maybe a tiny bit in love with Hob already, and it only has a little bit to do with his incredible arse.

And honestly, Hob is a little bit in awe of Dream. He sees true courage in his new student's eyes as he takes to the pole each week, learning new skills and even developing bonds with the other students. It's kind of sexy seeing a man confront his fears and experience personal growth. Maybe Hob will make a move... After he's finished choreographing an intricate routine for them to perform, together <3

[reimeichan]

What Does Healing With DID Mean?

I've seen a few posts recently where people talk about and explore what it means to heal and recover when you have DID. I thought I'd weigh in to that discussion a bit, based on the research I've read, the professionals I've talked to, and my own experiences.

Healing looks different for everyone. But what exactly does that mean? Healing does not inherently mean "achieving normality", as normality is a vague concept that may not even be achievable in some cases. As such, healing needs to be defined individually; what it means to heal and recover will thus naturally differ from person to person, system to system. Someone may wish to have access to all their memories and decrease amnesia. Someone else may wish to fully deprogram and decondition triggers they have instilled in them from years of trauma and abuse. Still another may describe healing for themselves as being able to live in a way that they actually look forward to the future. And these are just small examples of goals that people may have to define their healing experience.

And, similarly, the ways they may reach those goals may look different. One system may wish to fully fuse into a singular self in order to decrease amnesia, while another system may rely more on note-taking and other external ways to help their memory while keeping their parts separate. Or, maybe one system finds it beneficial to treat their alters individually in order to learn how to trust and work together, while another finds that treating themselves as individuals actually increases animosity between each other and prevents cohesion between parts. Or one system finds it beneficial to learn how to be at peace with being multiple and living with dissociation, as dissociation isn't inherently bad, while another strives to minimize dissociation as much as possible so that they do not slip back into maladaptive habits.

Whatever the case may be, it's up to the system and, potentially, their mental health team, to help them define and decide what their recovery goals are and how to achieve them. And that may mean that goals may shift, and tactics may change, as the system discovers what works for them and what they truly want, but it doesn't mean that any one "goal" or "tactic" is any more "correct" than another.

Ultimately, that means that while we as a community can try our best to give advice for what's been helpful for us to try to help others from potentially hurting themselves further, at the end of the day it's up to the individual and to the system to figure out for themselves what's actually beneficial and helpful for them, and what's preventing them from reaching their recovery goals. Instead of condemning each other for "healing incorrectly" or "being anti-recovery", I think it would be more helpful if we uplifted each other instead by encouraging good practices between each other and within ourselves.

[n3ptoonz]

May I request headcanons of the MK1 Earthrealm Champions watching the reader practicing a dance she choreographed herself in a dance studio?

If you need music for the vibe of her dance, I got you:

sure can!

mk1 hcs: earthrealm champions with a choreographer girlfriend

no warnings, pre-blind kenshi, lowkey self indulgent as a dancer myself hehehe

Raiden

loves to just sit and watch you work. the intense focus on your face as you start and stop again when you change your mind or try to rework a move was so fascinating to him

when he watches you dance he sometimes relates it to how he trains. he finds similarities and differences when it comes to doing something properly or fixing an error

once he sees you fully get everything right and the way you wanted it to be executed, he's so proud of you. weeks, sometimes a month's work finally paying off had him grinning ear to ear FOR you. if you look close enough in the mirror, you might even see him doing some of the moves very slightly in his seat

Kung Lao

is so excited that you let him sit in and watch you. surprisingly he wasn't so distracting even while loudly hyping you up over the music, it really just fueled you more

dude thinks he's on the team, expect him to be like "wait isn't it this?" every 15 minutes. it takes one good glare to get him to shut it up 😭 but now he just hesitantly raises his hand like a scolded child when he wants to help

little did you know every time he went back home, he lowkey couldn't stop memorizing some of your moves. even the ones he suggested/helped correct. so when you fully go over it he's in the corner halfway in sync but still determined to do what you do since he admires your determination to be the best you can be. just like him!

Kenshi Takahashi

with how intensely focused he is watching you, you'd think you're boring him, but it's quite the opposite. he's so captivated and drawn in by how your body moves so cohesively. if you felt unsure about this and asked him what he thought so far, without thinking he's just like "you look amazing" but was that really the question? 🤔

i have a hc that he's only good at slow dancing and/or traditional dancing but otherwise the man's got two left feet. so he wouldn't be dancing along, but most definitely singing along. in and outside of your studio. like you'd be out at lunch and he's humming the entire song w/o realizing

when it's all done he cannot wait to see the full thing. i'm talking like his hands are clasped together and he has a full grin on his face, and when you start it melts right back into intense focus. anybody outside looking in would easily think he's hypnotized (he definitely is)

Johnny Cage

silly goose, did you think he wasn't gonna join you?? he simply cannot sit and watch you be cool as fuck. he could also use some pointers anyway. and he might wanna include something like this in a film (he definitely wants to)

he's more focused than you are. he actually contributed one and a half some moves himself! all the dramatics you could possibly imagine him doing, he's doing exactly that. "1 and 2 and- POW! Uh!" like okay chronic theatre kid syndrome is in full effect!

you have to try to manage to outshine HIM once it's all finished. he's been going full out since you were still figuring out the first eight count. he'd be dancing circles around you if you weren't such a professional, otherwise...let's just say does hollywood even need a newest star?!

[ruija]

Well I really love your art, may I ask how do u color? I struggle with coloring turtles and I wasn't to know how do u do that?

Hi anon! That's a very broad question, so you've given me a great excuse to ramble anything I want about my coloring, eehehehee~! This will be in two parts and I'll start with talking about my simpler coloring style.

As in, when I color characters on a white background, with a limited or light palette.

The driving force behind this style is me being lazy. My time, energy, and attention span are pretty limited, so if I want to finish anything, I gotta do it fast. And with fanart, I'm usually just doing it for fun and relaxation, so there's no need to push myself to polish it too much.

Despite that, I rarely post just black and white sketches or line arts. I always try to add at least a little bit of toning or shading, because that makes the image easier to read. The characters and their shapes pop out and catch the eye of the viewer better.

However, in this particular example, just the couple toning colors don't quite do the job. The way Don and Leo are entangled makes the center area of this illustration very busy and hard to read.

As a comparison; this pic has only one tone + mask colors, and it works. This is because all the characters are standing separately and their poses are very stationary and simple.

So for the Don + Leo pic, adding some shadows helps in bringing out shapes and depths. Also in general, if you don't feel like drawing BGs, it's good to at least add a shadow below the characters. It grounds them and makes them feel like they exist within a space.

Sometimes if the posing looks too complex and busy, it might just be best to color in the characters fully.

However, even if I do full flat colors, I tend to use a lighter palette. Putting characters in their neutral/default color on a white BG can look a bit jarring as if they're floating in a void. It feels less immersive and like the picture is unfinished.

Using lighter colors makes the image more cohesive, and fits the characters into the white environment a bit more naturally.

If I'm too lazy to draw a BG, I prefer using stylized and limited colors. It feels deliberate and that the whiteness is just part of the palette, whereas the character-accurate colors on white don't match as well, even if they're more pastel.

That being said, there's nothing wrong with just slapping the flat-colored characters on a white background. As you know, I do it too. I'm just exposing my 'fancy coloring style' for what it is; me being lazy, hah!

Limited and monochromatic palettes are a nice shortcut even when you do actual backgrounds. It's faster and you don't have to worry about clashing colors. And you can still convey atmosphere and mood.

Also, on the topic of conserving your time and efforts; I think it's very common among younger/less experienced artists to think that the amount of time you spend on your art piece = how good and well received that piece will be.

Which has some merit to it of course, but it can lead to putting too much effort into areas where it's not necessary. E.g. filling the piece with tons of details and clutter that don't serve an actual purpose, but rather make the image hard to read. Or doing really complicated shading for a meme/comic, where simplicity would deliver the joke better.

So whenever I'm drawing something I intend to publish, whether it's a quick doodle or a more polished piece, I try to follow these two principles: Make it easily readable and do the bare minimum that needs to be done to convey what I want to convey.

Putting time into practice is important, but if you draw for work, it's also crucial that you know how to prioritize and use your time efficiently!

Anyway, thanks for reading! In the next part I'll go into how I do my fully colored pieces, so stay tuned for that!

[obsob]

I'm an artist who has difficulty colouring work, so if you're ever comfortable sharing i would love to see what the process of someone else to who colouring does not come natural look like! I love how your colours turn out, so warm and cohesive without being washed out. When I look at the process of other artists I admire they often seem to hit on their colours quickly, so it would be very helpful to see the process of someone who struggles more, like I do.

hi !!! i posted process vids for these three drawings which u might find helpful but they go pretty quick so i will try and explain more!

-my big number one advice is doing underpainting, this is all the yellow u see me use in the process vids. this is partly so i can alpha lock them for easy colouring but also, i use semi-opaque brushes when doing my main colouring which lets the yellow peek through every part of the drawing, giving everything a uniform undertone! very very helpful i recommend it a lot :3 things like overlay / multiply layers can help bring all your colours together as well and make a big difference. i also like to use soft light / subtract layer modes. just play around!! i do however think its good practice for your drawing to work without those modes as well, you dont want to rely on them to make the drawing work, just enhance it! heres a drawing of mine with and without the various layer modes - a big difference and more impactful with, but the drawing on the left still looks fine without!

-as for how i go about choosing colours i hve two ways. mainly nowadays i just eyeball it but i also sometimes use colour pallets like these! how i make these palettes is by auto generating palettes from images in procreate which is so so helpful. if u see artwork u rlly like the colours its a great way of trying those colours for yourself without having to do as much thinking. when u get a sense for it u can start coming up with your own palettes!

-i cant talk abt this without talking about colour theory. i am not an expert but its really worth familiarising yourself with what colours work / contrast each other. if u want to, for example make a warm toned drawing u simply just stay away from cool toned colours! u can still have them in, but there still needs to be a warm undertone that can be done with the underpainting or just eyeballing! i hvent used palettes for a long while now and ive always found it easier to choose cohesive palettes with these than using the like big wheel or smth.

i prefer picking colours like this bc i feel like i can more easily control the undertone, than if i was picking off a colour wheel etc.

a lot of my success just comes from practice and experience! but smtimes colours r just stinky n are hard to get th vibes for . i usually just walk away and take a break and smtimes have an epiphany and other times if ur rlly struggling just throw the whole colouring out and start again !! and if ur rlly rlly rlly struggling take a look at ur actual drawing again. smtimes if ur composition/ shading etc is weird it makes the colours go on wack bc u dont have a good foundation!!!!!

anyway i dont think i explained this well. go forth and colour ur brain is big etc

[lynsstrange]

the marauders as color/winter guard performers headcannons

(For the enjoyment of me and the probably one other person on the platform who’s two niche interests somehow overlap)

James:

Section leader during marching season, team captain during winter season

Takes it VERY seriously

Is the reason they have twelve hours of practice a week, but also the reason they score very high

Everyone hates him the second conditioning comes around, constantly yelling at the team (Sirius) to try harder while they’re doing suicides and across the floors at seven in the morning

Rifle prodigy (he cannot stfu about showing off how many rotations he can do)

The overzealous upperclassman that scares off incoming freshmen

Always the one lending money at competitions for food. Also has first aid stuff, electric tape, hand warmers, and just about anything else the team could be in need of packed

Basically Team Mom ™

Mary:

TECHNICALLY co-captain

Her and James are constantly bickering over whether her position is official (“That’s Mary, our FLAG SERGEANT” “WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT EVEN MEAN”)

She’s much more involved in flag, doesn’t like weapon as much

A good teacher, but brutally honest to anyone she sees as not meeting expectations

Resident playlist-maker, and has dominion over the speaker in the back of the bus

Is constantly critiquing the show design and advocating for aesthetic cohesion (“the rifles would look so much better if the bolts were taped blue, just saying”)

Sirius:

Is good at weapon, more so sabre

Doesn’t like flag as much, but always gets stuck on solos on it because he’s talented

Manages to miss his drill dot EVERY FUCKING TIME by just a little bit and it sends James into rage

Never really knows the counts, but always in time

Manages to look good even in the shittiest of costumes

Trauma dumps and tells wildass stories in the back of the bus on the way back from late night comps

Constant guard terminology sexual innuendo (“Remus, I need you to strip- your silk, Remus, mind out of the gutter 🙄”)

Remus:

He doesn’t know how he got here

Meaning he got dragged into it by Sirius and James

(Mostly James)

Is basically being held hostage because of his skill- that being that he’s a lot stronger than he looks, so he’s good at rifle when he actually tries

Always has some dusty ass beat up novel in his competition duffle (me)

Late to practice or gone often because he has so many other academic commitments lmao

Always covered in bruises from getting whacked by equipment

Competitive only when it comes to Sirius. (Sirius can do a one handed forty five?? Remus can do a DOUBLE one handed forty five)

Lily:

Marching band historian during fall season

Runs the guard’s social media pages

Organizes all team parties

A STICKLER for team traditions, and makes sure they’re continued on each year

Pretty well-rounded, but prefers flag

Like Remus, only truly competitive and spiteful when it comes to James

All the freshmen love her because she’s a good teacher, and she has a special talent of talking just about anyone into auditioning

Always mad about the state of disarray in the guard room

Peter:

Like Remus, isn’t sure how he ended up here

Isn’t really that great at anything, but he tries real hard

Plays trumpet or smth during marching season lmao

And somehow ended up in guard by peer pressure and a crippling fear of being left out

Marlene:

Weapon NERD

And honestly all around guard nerd

Is almost as enthusiastic as James

She even did baton for a short period of time for fun

Is one of those people who can just whip rifle around in that effortless way (you know the type of person I’m talking about)

Constantly coming to James with feedback about choreography, and they’re always either getting along very well or at odds

Definitely on her way to DCI

Resident makeup helper (she can do a mean cat eye, even on a highway in a school bus)

Maybe at some point I’ll do the skittles or other various characters lol but for now I’m imagining just the in-universe Gryffindors/marauders as one team haha

[tales-of-wocdes]

is sexism a thing In this world? Because I can see Harvard trying his damndest (probably again this wishes, since he strikes me as a man who cares a lot for equality) to teach mc to cook and clean and what not meanwhile my mc is being a complete menace and a dumbass just destroying and eating and poking everything. I can hear lexia in the background screaming to Harvard “SHE ATE THE SOAP AGIAN”.

The soap thing is totally something I can see happening. I imagine, the first time went something like (you said your MC is a she so let's go with that):

"It's made from animal or monster fat, I think." Lexia says glancing over at the bar of soap you are looking over.

That sounds tasty. You heard one of the cooks say that fat equals flavor... So, you take a bite.

"Oh damn it, Havard! Get over here! She's eating things again!"

----------------------------------

Havard absolutely cares that everyone, especially the children are equal. Cooking and cleaning is something everyone should know at least the basics of for him, among other things. How to stay warm, and the value of money, the much discussed "talk" etc. is all stuff he things everyone should know or learn. MC is of course his personal charge so he would prefer that MC learns well... but, I can't control what kind of chaotic little terrors your MCs are :D

The sexism gets a bit into lore stuff so below. And it lead me on a bit of a lore dump.

Sexism is a thing, but not so rampant in Firgrat and the continent the Ancients actively rule. Not to say it does not exists in Firgrat or the continent, people have their opinions and it is a huge city. In the underbelly of the city, I am sure there are all sorts of people who have their opinions and try to enforce them in whatever limited ways they can. In other parts of the world, I would say it is more common. Not everywhere of course.

The Ancients are very much by the type of rulers to try and enforce that everyone is treated equally in a societal sense. For example, there is no nobility in Firgrat because the Ancients do not see how being born is somehow an accomplishment or should give you power over others. Something visiting dignitaries sometime have a lot of trouble with.

Of course, wealth is a dividing factor. While taxation is progressive, the more you earn the more you pay, it does not mean that significant gap does not exist. There is of course, effort being put into giving everyone the chance to excel. The orphanage can be viewed as one such project. However, this is still very much a work in progress.

The Ancients try to enforce that before the law, every life has the same "value" so to speak. That status does not affect treatment and the circumstances of one's birth have nothing to do with how people should be treated.

However, of course it is people doing the practical work in law enforcement and administration, the Ancients have a lot of stuff to worry about and it is doubtful they even know the laws of their city in any detail (at least most of them). And people can be corrupted, bribed etc. However, in few societies does getting caught and investigated from "above" mean quite so much, because there is an absolute authority that can interfere and is "active" so to speak. Slow at times, sense of time is hard for ancient things, but still active.

It is also not that the Ancients are one cohesive whole who always agree either. But they just need to agree on the big picture and leave the details to their "minions", so to speak. Then only interfere if needed :D

I seem to have strayed a bit far from the question, but I hope you are happy with the answer :D

[sweetiesicheng]

wooyoung - star player

word count : 979

i need it on record that i know absolutely nothing about soccer besides this one player who was on a cover on a magazine okay thanks bye

-

"don't let them past you! you're breaking formation!" you hear your coach yell as you and your team run through practice. your team had previously made it into the semi-finals for a tournament in your district. all of you have been practicing like crazy for the game that is at the end of next week.

after awhile, your team is given a break. practice would last for at least another two hours, but the boys soccer team also had to get on the field with your team to practice for a match they’re in.

"you look like someone ran over you.”

you look up while drinking from your water bottle to see the captain of the boys's team, jung wooyoung.

"what do you want, jung?" you ask him as he drops his bags down on the grass in front of you.

"just messing with you," he says and crouches down so he can peck your lips, "you're doing great, babe."

you smile at him, "thanks."

"hey, coach has to talk to someone. you guys take a break while we warm up," one of the guys says to your team.

"i'll take it."

"yea, i'm beat."

"thanks."

some of the guys start practicing on the field while your team took a much needed break. wooyoung sits down across from you, digging in his backpack before pulling out a container.

"here, my mom made this," wooyoung says to you and starts feeding you snacks that he has in the small container. “good?” you nod your head.

"captain! you're gonna have to practice eventually!" you hear one of his teammates yell from the field.

wooyoung turns around, "shut up!" he yells and turns back to you. "have the rest," he offers, "i have another box," he adds before kissing your cheek.

wooyoung gets up and hurries to the field, immediately starting to practice with his team.

"your boyfriend is so head over heels for you," one of your teammates says as she undos her hair to redo it.

"he's only being like this because we got into semis this year," you reply, "we still bicker like an old married couple."

"you two are so cute," another teammate says before sighing, "if only i could find a guy like him."

"there's a whole team of lunatics right there."

"didn't you like—?"

"shh!"

your coach comes back after a few minutes, and your team starts practicing again. you run through your usual formations with a few player changes just to try new things out.

"woah!"

"sorry!"

it's trial and error as new players are changed. usually, your team is pretty cohesive, but the pressure is way too tense.

"okay, you two switch again, and you two switch," your coach instructs, making more player changes.

you continue practicing and run across the field. someone passes you the ball, and you start running toward the goal.

"come on y/n!" you hear wooyoung cheer for you. you kick the ball and watch it fly into the net. the goalkeeper misses the ball and falls to the ground. "that's my girl!"

"hey, jung. keep it down," you hear your coach say to the captain.

"nice one, y/n," one of your teammates says to you.

"thanks," you reply.

"let's keep this up," another teammate says, "the other teams won't have a chance against us," she says with a grin.

"alright, ladies, let's run this again," your coach says to all of you.

—

practice ends as the sun starts to set. it’s evident that everyone is beyond tired and hungry at this point.

you sit with your teammates by a set of bleachers. most of them are getting ready to leave while the rest of you take a break before going home. the guys are also hanging out, praising all of you for doing well.

"y/n, want to grab dinner with us?" one of your teammates asks.

"nah, maybe lunch or something else tomorrow," you reply as you take your cleats off.

"suit yourself."

"see you guys!"

people from both teams start trickling off the field. as you get ready to leave, you notice wooyoung talking to some of the players on the bleachers higher up.

you whistle, warning a look from everyone. wooyoung smiles at you before saying his goodbyes and walking over to you, climbing over a few bleachers to get down to you.

"you can stay. i'm going home," you say to him while putting your regular sneakers on.

"no, i'll take you home," he says. "i already called your dad and told him i'd bring you home when coach said practice was gonna be longer," he mentions.

wooyoung picks up his bags before reaching over to grab yours. you try to stop him, but he takes your duffel.

"i got it," he says to you. "hand me your backpack."

"i'll carry it," you say to him, backing away from him when he tries to grab your backpack from you. you stick your tongue out at him and he does the same. "are you staying for dinner?" you ask as you two start walking towards the parking lot.

"i need to go home. my brother went on a field trip and brought me a souvenir," he replies. you continue walking through the parking lot and make it to his car. both of you throw everything into the trunk before getting into the car.

you see wooyoung smiling as he starts his car up.

"what's with that face?" you ask him.

"just admiring how sweaty you look," he replies, earning a glare from you. he laughs for a second. "i'm kidding," he admits. "you're adorable."

"you're not half bad either," you reply.

wooyoung suddenly leans over the center console and kisses you on the lips. "you're doing great out there," he says to you afterwards.

you smile, "thanks, babe."

"anything for my star player."

[asheurbanipal]

'Cause I don't want to leave the comfort of this place

on Ao3

<<Previous Episode : Next Episode>>

Summary:

As their relationship moves forward, Logan and Wade start to see what being together actually looks like. Wade has a brain that doesn't work correctly. Logan is still dealing with the trauma of his previous existence. And in the middle is something new that neither quite know what to do with.

Deadpool/Wolverine

Explicit

Words: 8629

One-shot in series

Content: angst, talk of memory loss, baby in danger!, hand stuff, hand stuff while driving, dad vibes, sex jokes

"Wade, how can I put this delicately…" 

"Why the hell are you here for breakfast, again?" 

Logan choked on his bite of eggs. Hank's attempts at the aforementioned delicacy were completely obliterated by Scott's irritation. He tried to swallow faster to answer.

"Man needs a hearty meal after getting ruthlessly fucked all night," Wade answered. From beside him, Wade reached his foot over and wove it around Logan's ankle. 

"Please don't be so crass in the manor," Hank admonished, returning to his toast. Scott rolled his eyes behind his glasses. They had sense enough to not take Wade at literal face value and snap at the bait, but he wasn't exactly lying. Logan wasn't quite sure where their perception of his and Wade's relationship had landed. No one talked about that kind of shit like adults in this goddamn place. He hadn't realized how annoying that was until he had some distance from it.

"We were running drills in the Danger Room." Logan tapped his fork to his plate nonchalantly. "We run it hard, and it's two hours back to his place. I didn't think it was a big deal for him to crash in my room, instead." 

Another technical truth. Between the Void and that stupid robot thing upstate, he could feel the way his body had slowed down from disuse. If he was going to keep up in this timeline, he needed to get back in fighting shape. He had finally just taken up the offer of private simulation time. Throwing Deadpool into the mix just made it more interesting and upped the difficulty. 

What the simulation computer data logs wouldn't show, though, is that after a couple hours of nighttime training, they were both so amped up the only way to reign it in was to go back to Logan's room and put their dicks in each other in various fashions. They almost didn't make it back to Logan's room one time before he remembered the simulation chamber had very good cameras. 

"If it's a matter of food stock…" Logan offered vaguely.

"No, it's fine." Scott waved him off, but he was still agitated.

"What's up, Cy-boy? Did-wait-" Wade leaned over. He didn't have to come far, his chair already practically touching Logan's.

"What's the Jean situation, right now?" he whispered way too fucking loud.

 "It's complicated," Logan responded with a small nod.

 "Then I'll check the Wiki before I come back to that one. Don't want to insult a grieving maybe-widower."

"I admire your restraint," Scott chuffed then pushed back from the table, standing. "Don't let him out of your sight while he's in the manor." He sauntered through the arch toward the parlor. 

"I hadn't planned on it." Logan lifted his eyebrows at the space where Scott had just been. 

"If you're really in that much need, I'm happy to train with you, Logan." Storm had been quiet, holding her coffee mug with two hands as she sipped it. She kept looking at him softly. From his Storm it would have been affection. From this one it felt like pity.

Logan shook his head, dipping it back to his plate as casually as he could.

"No, I've been overdoing it. Wade already got on me last night about it."

"Multiple times," Wade added. His foot was still hooked around Logan's, and he pulled it a little closer under the table. He was in slippers, so it wasn't exactly a graceful action.

"If you want me to be able to do more cohesive teamwork, I am going to need to start being pulled for team training. Otherwise I'm not gonna be any good to you." Logan tapped very sharply on the plate. 

"Let me talk to everyone about it," Storm said softly, nodding. They'd been doing that. Saying they'd all "talk" about it, meanwhile no one would talk to him directly.

"Can I borrow one of the cars again? To take Wade back. He's got a job to prep for." Logan lifted Wade's foot where it rested on top of his, ignoring the way the rest of the table briefly flicked away from mention of Wade's return to his old vocation. Not like he could work at CarMax, anymore, and if he was going to wear the suit again, might as well slip back into the merc life. 

"Let me see what's available," Hank nodded. Which was code for "what we're willing to part with on the chance that something goes horrifically wrong." They'd all heard about the mini-van incident. Somehow…

He glanced at Wade. 

"Thanks," he said.

"When are you gonna be back?" Laura appeared in the same arch of doorway that Scott had left through, eating an apple off one of her claws. The kid had settled in quickly, blending with the younger cohort. Some of them knew her story, some of them didn't. Either way, she had gone through the standard new student fare. Get through the initial hazing, then she was part of the crowd. 

She was certainly more at home than he was. 

His first week back in the mansion, he had hovered at a distance, unexpected fatherly affection pulling him into a wide orbit around her. He also didn't know this younger generation of mutants. They were their own people to him, not sickly mirrors of the people he once knew. That made them easier to be around.

But he was an old man, and Laura needed the space. Deserved the space. Deserved to be just a kid. 

She continued to wait for his answer as he considered his day. He half-glanced at Wade, but he was focusing intensely on his bagel with strawberry cream cheese. 

"If not by dinner, then right after. Take Wade back. Run a couple errands. Then back here." The errands were making sure Wade had food in the fridge, Althea hadn't OD'd, and filling up the coin jar with quarters for the laundromat. Maybe vacuum and mop. Take Puppins for a walk and check her treat stash. They must have functioned before he showed up, but he wasn't sure how.

If there was time, there'd also be some making out on the couch at minimum. How much farther that got would depend on Wade's timeframe. 

"You askin' for a specific reason?" Logan raised an eyebrow at her. 

"Because I also need to do some training, and you're the only one I can go all out on, right now. But you've been...busy." The next bit of apple crunched loudly. The first emotion the broiled up was anger. He didn't know where it came from and it wasn't useful, so he breathed through it. That's what the on-staff therapist recommended. 

"I apologize for not being available. But in the future, please tell me if there's something you need from me. Open communication and…stuff." Logan replayed the words in his head to make sure he had crafted them okay. Good enough. He was getting a little better at it.

"Now that is some beautiful therapy speak. You should weaponize that, kitten whiskers." Wade poked him in the cheek. 

"If you actually went to your appointments…"

"Uh-unh, that's not an 'I feel' statement." 

"I feel like I'm gonna kick your ass in a minute." Logan kicked Wade's foot under the table with a grin. 

 "I feel you use violence to mask your overwhelming urge to suck my cock."

"WADE, THIS IS A PLACE OF LEARNING!" Hank interjected. 

"I feel like you're both stupid as fuck," Laura finished. "But I guess that just means you're made for each other." She took another bite of apple. "I'll see you tonight, Logan."

"Bye, kid." But she was already turning the corner of the wall. 

#####

Everything was light and bright and fluffy and yellow colored. He couldn't remember the last time he felt good . Genuinely. Whatever memory that might have been was now just a fuzzy gray space. He hated when that happened. 

Cold as fuck down here, Christ. Which is me, I guess. I wonder if that's blasphemy. 

"You were quieter than usual at breakfast." Logan tapped his fingers to Wade's palm as they moved through one of the basement hallways toward the motor pool. "Fucking weird, honestly." Wade dipped his hand into Logan's and curled their fingers together.

"I was just thinking about stuff."

"Thinking? Dangerous." 

"Surprise myself with that sometimes, too." Wade swung their arms in the space between them dramatically. "Just…I don't know…thinking about the job tonight, I guess? Then some other stuff."

"Something you need to talk about? Work through your feelings?"

"Ew no. Gross. It's more like…hm…" 

Fuck. 

Keep being told to think before I speak, and the first time I do it, it doesn't work. I spent all of breakfast putting the words together, and now they're all garbled. Shoulda written it down. Wish I could write. 

"You ever feel lost?" Wade asked. Logan stopped cold in the hallway. 

"Babe," Logan  murmured. Then he did this thing that Wade knew was going in the spank bank immediately. He slammed Wade back against the wall, metal cold on his spine. Logan pressed up tight against him, hip to hip, giving him an immediate hard-on. Logan's hands slipped around his waist. 

"My life is just one long sequence of feeling lost with short periods of knowing what I'm doing. So…kind of an expert." Logan pressed his lips to Wade, and Wade dragged him in in response, deepening the kiss. 

I love this.

I hate this.

I hate that I love this.

Fuck these fucking stupid fuck-ass emotions.  

Falling in love with Vanessa had been from before The Cancer. Before The Healing Factor. Wade knew how to do all that shit, knew how to put his boyish charm and adult-ish mouth to work. From what he had learned since coming back from the Void, other versions of Deadpool had mixed but overall successful amorous experiences, too. This particular Deadpool was drowning.  

Logan pulled away but not before pressing a few small kisses along Wade's jaw and cheek. 

"Anything I can do to help?" Logan squeezed him around the waist a little tighter, dropping his hands a little lower to rest on the top of his hips. 

"Make me an X-Man so I have a salaried position?" Wade offered.

"You're not a full-on mutant. Also…I don't have control over that even if you were." The words went up at the end like a question. It was so fucking cute. 

"Alright then maybe just this, for now." Wade leaned down, pressed his face into Logan's chest, then motorboated the shit out of his pecs for about forty-five seconds. He stayed there, pressing his nose into Logan's shirt and breathing him in. 

Oh yeah, that's a thousand times better, already. 

"You're lucky you're cute." Logan kissed Wade on the top of the head and brought his arms around Wade's back, squeezing him tighter. 

"Logan." The voice came from down the hallway. Logan snapped back, his whole body releasing Wade at once and very literally jumping halfway across the width of the hall. 

Well that doesn't feel great, but I sort of get it. 

At least the fucker looked contrite, doing that fist squeeze thing with this hands that he did when he was every so slightly nervous. Scott sauntered down the hallway, stopping short to toss a set of keys that Logan caught mid-air. 

"Civic's gassed up." He glanced at Wade. "Take as much time as you need."

#####

Logan squeezed the steering wheel hard enough the shape of his claws became visible under his skin. The radio was doing a best of the nineties hour, and he'd already sat through a who's who of pop diva and boy bands of the era. Multiple times he'd considered changing it, but Wade was a little too invested in singing along. He didn't want to take that from him.

It was also, dare he say it, kind of fun?    

When the opening riff of a smooth rock song started, Wade scrambled to change it, his chatter breaking off into something about "blow jobs" and "Kid Rock." They ended up on a talk radio station that was a little less nerve-wracking. He leaned back into the seat as Wade provided a parallel commentary with the show host.

He lifted his hand from the wheel and placed it palm up across the center console. Wade took the opening and dropped his hand into Logan's.

"I'm sorry about the thing in the hallway outside the motor pool," Logan said, chewing the words in embarrassment. 

"Whatchu talkin' 'bout?" 

Logan considered for a moment whether Wade was deflecting or he genuinely didn't catch it. They were both equally likely. 

"When Scott showed up?" He hinted. 

"OH! Oh that. No biggie, sugar bean." He squeezed Logan's hand tight enough to break a hand made of regular bone. "No grab-ass in the mansion. I get it." 

"Well, yeah that." Logan ran his thumb over the back of Wade's hand. "I don't know what their Logan was like, but I used to…uh…get around a little bit."

"You slut!" Wade gasped. Logan certainly wasn't going to deny it.

"Charles used to get on my ass about it-"

"In the sexy way, I hope."

"-'we have to be models of decency for the students' he'd remind me. He never threatened to kick me out, or anything." 

"He was probably waiting for his turn." 

"I'm on thin ice, here, though. They only invited me back on the team as a courtesy, and they don't know how to feel about you, yet."

"Oh, no, they hate me," Wade said.

"I was trying to be nicer about it." Logan glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. Wade was staring out the window, watching the landscape. "I haven't really done the physical affection thing in awhile, either. So I'm gun-shy, but I want to work on it. Just go a little slow with me."

"I'm not exactly the touchy feely type, either, peanut, so don't stress over it."

"You slap my ass basically every chance you get." 

"That's a totally different thing. I don't know how anyone in that house keeps their hands off those rosy peaches." He smirked and winked. There was something glinting dark underneath, though. Maybe that meant Wade would spend his time thinking instead of filling up the car with noise. 

Wade pulled Logan's hand further over the console. He heard a zip, then his hand was curled around the warmth of Wade's half-hard cock. 

"Are we really doing this?" Logan didn't dare drop his eyes from the road for too long, but he took half a chance to verify that what he thought was happening was actually happening. 

"When I tried to give you head the last time, you stabbed me in the ribs."

"Because I didn't want to drive us into a fucking tree, and that was the only way to get you to stop."

"Yeah, so that's why I'm doing this instead. Just let me do all the work." 

"You're deflecting from something. You need to start using your words to communicate, not your dick."

"Ngh, I'll work on it." Wade was already grunting, tiny little moans as he pressed Logan's hand around his dick and stroked himself. It was a shoddy and fast thing, Wade getting hard quickly and tensing toward completion just as fast. Wade orgasmed with barely a trickle of cum, shoulders rolling against the passenger seat as he arched his back. His voice was tight in his throat, squeaking. Soft words tumbled out between the other sounds, though, and Logan honed in tighter with his hearing. 

It was his name. 

Wade was whispering "Logan" over and over and over again just under his breath. 

That was new. 

Wade panted as he came down from his finish, licked his own semen from Logan's hand because he was simply a freak like that, then zipped up. 

"Ooh, there's an IHOP up here. We should get pancakes for lunch." Wade made that weird little self-satisfied smile of his, and dropped his hands between his legs.

"Whatever you want, babe," Logan sighed, keeping his hand off the wheel as he turned into the parking lot of the strip mall. 

#####

You have to tell him.

No you don't. Keep that shit bottled up. 

He's already figured out something's going on with you. Just get it over with, and you can work through it. 

Fucking FINE. OKAY. 

don't yell at me. 

"Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." 

Logan stared at him across the table, pouring "this ain't real fuckin' maple syrup" over his fat stack of pancakes, already through his sausage and eggs and ham and potatoes. Wade looked down at his own pancakes, a smiley face made with chocolate chips and bananas. A piece was already cut out that he didn't remember eating. He didn't remember the eggs and bacon, either, but they were devoured, too. 

Shit.

No. You just weren't paying attention, that's all. It's not the other thing.

I think.

He stabbed his fork down through the middle of the pancakes in frustration. 

"You good?" Logan stopped, fork midway between the plate and his mouth. He set it down to focus that laser attention on Wade. The gaze that made him either turn to jelly or grow a few more bones depending on context.  

Wade re-sorted his thoughts. It was just so hard.

"The constant cellular regeneration. It fucks my memory. Sometimes I just never form them. Sometimes I lose stuff. Sometimes it's nothing. Sometimes it's something really fucking important. But I can't predict it. I'll be looking for this specific little red Fiat in the back lot to sell to some douchebag, and it's not there when I remember it was there that morning. And turns out it's actually been four days." Wade sliced down into the pancakes and took a bite.

"Freaks me the fuck out." He chewed a few times, then spit it into his napkin with a gag. "Why did I fucking get this? I hate this." 

"Were those the deep thoughts in the car? The ones that made you whip your dick out?" Logan tapped his fork to the plate, and it was so…it was so annoying when he did that. That high-pitched sound. And there was this look. This pitying look. 

"Don't make fun of me." Wade's eyebrows creased hard, and he felt a scrim of tears well up.

God, this fucking sucks. Fuck this. Fuck this.

Logan paused on his own words, then snapped his jaw shut.

"Sorry. I misread the room. I'm just trying to understand. Same with some of the other stuff you do. Like when you freak out when you don't see me for a day."

I'm not nearly as smooth as I thought I was, shit. I didn't realize he noticed that.

"I feel like it's all connected." Logan dropped his fork and leaned his forearms on the table. "I just want to understand, Wade." 

"I'm terrified of losing you. Losing parts of you. Memories. The thing that I'm usually able to hang on to is the muscle memory shit. I've never forgotten how to fight or fuck, so I'd like specifically, not forget you how to fuck you. Specifically. So I keep thinking if I just-" He lifted his hands and made a squeezing motion in front of Logan's chest "-then I won't lose it as easily."

"And that makes sense to you?"

"Bitch-ass, what did I say about making fun of me?" 

"I'm not…" He craned his neck, pressing his fingertips to his forehead. "I'm not a stranger to amnesia. I know how scary it is. I'm just trying to understand your logic because it doesn't make sense to me. I don't get it."

"You don't get me," Wade snapped. 

"I don't. Not in this." 

"Cool. Awesome." Wade got up from the table. He made it to the door, then paused. He returned and dropped down into the booth, arms crossed over his chest. 

Logan has the car keys. 

#####

Wade let Logan rest his hand on his thigh, so that was something, at least. He wasn't getting frozen out. He'd been through that before, and it wasn't pleasant. 

Wade was silent, though, and that was scary. He had only seen it a handful of times over the last few months. Wade was thinking and thinking hard, focusing so he could properly turn everything over. Something was going to come out the other side of this that was important. So far it had been mostly positive, but there had to be a moment when the tide turned. 

"Logan, stop. Pull over." Wade was sitting up, eyes focused on something out his window. He obeyed immediately, trying to find what had grabbed Wade's attention. 

They were approaching a river. Along the perpendicular road, the one that connected to the main highway, two cars had pulled over to take care of what looked like a minor front-end crash. The car wasn't even stopped before Wade was tumbling out and running toward the scene of the crash.

"Wade, what're you doing?" Logan slid across the hood to keep up. "It's just a car wreck." They were approaching quickly, the two people exchanging insurance looking up in a panic. Logan tried to assure them from a distance. 

Then a loud whoosh went up, and one of the cars was overtaken by flames. 

#####

The 2010 -2016 Kia Soul was among a group of cars known to catch on fire after collision. 2.3 million of them had been recalled for it. 

That Kia, in particular, was starting to smoke under the hood. 

And now I'm running across the grass, and I'm not sure how I got here. But I'm not freaked out about it, yet. That's just adrenaline.

The fire went up just as he reached the car. A woman screamed behind him, but he knew Logan was there. Logan would take care of them. He had seen the baby in the back seat. The flames were hot on his skin as he went digging for the switchblade in his back pocket. The butt of the knife handle had a knob, and he slammed it into the corner of the back window. 

That's the weakest part of the window.

He dived through the now broken window, crunching up into the back seat. He sliced through the seatbelt and carseat anchor, but the fucker was in one of those fuck-ass bases. Whatever. He took off his shirt, threw it over the carseat, then kicked everything he had into the door. It broke off the hinges. 

"Wolverine, catch!" Then he threw the carseat clear of the vehicle.

Shit shit shit I just threw a fucking baby. Wait, the car seat should absorb the shock, oh, wait, Logan caught it.

Okay. 

A sizzling sound meant the fire was moving up the engine block through the wiring. Smoke started seeping through the cabin, but the missing door should have been enough to…to…

Hm. Something's wrong. 

"Wade, you idiot." Logan's voice. The SHNK of claws through the door behind him, then he was being scruffed around the neck. 

He lost some minutes in the confusion of his body being manhandled by familiar arms. 

"I swear to God, why don't you think ? You're going to kill me if you die."

Wade snapped back as the water hit him, Logan's arms wrapped around him tightly. 

"I got you," Logan murmured in his ear as they resurfaced. They kneeled together in the shallow water. The flames crawling up the car hit the gas tank, and the fire shifted color and increased intensity.

"Why am I in the water?" Wade asked. 

"You were literally on fire," Logan growled. "Full on human torch."

"Oh, is that what that was?" Wade settled back into the plane of Logan's chest. Fire was tricky. It would keep eating through cells as long as they regenerated. Surprisingly draining to heal from.

"How is it that you can fight endless mobs of yourself without breaking a sweat, but doing a basic smash and grab rescue you look like a drunk frat boy with a hernia." Logan was also a little out of breath, though. They both knew that these little on the spot jobs were the hardest. With a full on mission, you were ready. You warmed up. Zero-to-hero took a little more out of you. It was more personal. More up close. Bunch of people die during a dab of super-villainy, sure. If someone kicked it right in front of you because you couldn't pull them off the subway tracks in time, that sucked a syphilitic dick.

And I don't exactly randomly rescue people. Not before this. Waste of cardio.

What have you done to me, my dearest darling? Heart of my heart.

"I didn't have the suit on," Wade replied as a way to wrap up all those thoughts. Logan kissed the back of his head. 

"If I tell you to communicate better, will you remember?" Logan sighed. "I'm being extremely serious. You might forget things, but I remember. And I remember well when I'm at full mental capabilities. Got a lot of trauma up there, so there's not a lot of room left." He squeezed Wade even tighter, the breath puffing out of him. "And I can't manage both our impulse control issues." 

"No promises, honey badger. This brain doesn't always connect to this body." 

"I…okay. That I might understand."

#####

They slinked through the door into Wade and Althea's apartment, clothes still dripping wet. Logan didn't smell anyone, so Althea was out and had taken Puppins. Reasonable. Wade loved that damn dog, but he wasn't home consistently enough, right now, to take care of her in full. Wade had been chattering endlessly about car recalls and leaking gas tank valves, but he fell instantly silent once they passed the threshold.  

"I don't like being here alone," he said flatly. 

"I'm here."

"But you're going to go back to the mansion later."

"Yeah, but you're gonna be working. I can stay until you leave. If Scott gets shitty about the car, then whatever."

"Yeah, but-" 

"Wade. Babe." 

Wade spun around in the middle of the living space, arms flopping.

"Why did you decide on 'babe?'" Wade pouted.

"You call me whatever new thing you think of at the moment, but I'm more of a find a pet name and stick to it kinda guy." Logan rested his hands on his hips, trying to decide where this was going.

"You called me 'daarrrlin' the first time." The impression was pretty spot on. "Then it was 'honey.' Then it was 'sweetness.' But now you've landed on 'babe,' and you stayed there. I want to know why. Show your work."

Logan blinked at him a few times. He wasn't sure he could actually explain it. 

"I went to call you 'bub' one time in front of the others, and it came out 'babe.' And I just…liked it. So I kept it. It…fit."

"You've called me, 'babe' in front of the others?"

"Yeah, probably a few times. I'm not really counting."

"Do they know we're together?"

"I haven't been keeping it a secret, so yeah, probably. They're not stupid, and we're not exactly discreet. Last week you asked Scott if there was any flavored lube in the next delivery because, and I quote, 'when I eat Logan's ass later, I want to make sure I pair it with the right wine.'" 

"Witty banter. I didn't know they were imagining us fucking night and day all over the house."

"Night and day, sure, technically. I think 'my room' isn't really 'all over the house.'"

"There was that one time in that empty classroom." 

"That doesn't count," Logan choked. 

"Mmmhmm." Wade clucked, popping his tongue loudly against the floor of his mouth. "So, to be clear, the entirety of the X-Men know that I've been all up in this." He made a waving motion that circled all of Logan's body with special attention on the crotch region.

"Again, yes. Probably." 

"That's extremely embarrassing for you," Wade smirked. 

"I'd like to go back to the ass-slapping."

"I told you. Those cheeks are irresistible. I cannot be contained." He moved forward a few steps and wrapped his hand around Logan's wrist. "Let's change. You can wear my sweats."

"Please don't give me one of the blow-job shirts," Logan said as he was pulled across the room to the set of hampers where Wade kept his mishmash of clothes. 

"Now you're getting the cum slut booty shorts." 

Wade started to strip, his body moving with slow, awkward, weirdly normal movements. It was the second degree burns and smoke inhalation. On the surface they looked like they healed quickly, just a little knitting of flesh. But they hurt underneath a lot longer than other injuries. That was probably why he still seemed off. But there was also…

"Wade." Logan waited for Wade to turn around. His flannel was now sitting wet and balled up in the back of the Civic. Instead, he pulled up the bottom of his t-shirt slowly, tantalizing, letting it whip over his head with a stretch of his body. "So you can remember better." He held out his arms, canted slightly into a soft U-shape. He turned slowly, trying to give Wade some kind of show. He wasn't exactly good at this sort of thing, but something about it made sense.

#####

Oh, you sweet sweet idiot. 

Logan was just standing there, back to him, triceps fucking rippling. 

Do you have a license? For those guns?!?

"You stupid slut," Wade whispered. He moved to Logan, and whipped his arms around his waist from behind. He had been stopped with his wet boxes halfway down his hips, and he just let them fall the rest of the way.

He needed Logan to be naked, too. Not anything more than that, surprisingly. Just naked. He struggled with his belt buckle, but the damp leather had swollen in the metal loop. Logan cut through it with the tip of one of his ever so slightly extended claws. He retracted then turned in the circle of Wade's arms, breaking the loop with his taught ass. 

JESUS. 

Wade pulled the broken belt free, then somehow managed to fumble down the zipper and top button of his jeans. But the slim cut of the pants was clinging to his glutes and thighs. Wade yanked on them, and they wouldn't budge. 

Oh, god, I'm going to cry over pants. 

"I can't get them off." He already knew he was mumbling, the rattle of his thoughts only slipping out in little breathy whispers. 

"What was that?" Logan asked gently, leaning in and up to Wade's ear. 

"TAKE OFF YOUR PANTS."

Logan didn't question the zero to one hundred reaction, just slid his pants down himself, taking his boxer briefs with him, then stepping out of them. Wade slammed himself into Logan's body, wrapping his arm around him again, digging his nails into his spine and shoulder blades. Logan's arms came up from below to hug him back, tight, pulling their chests and stomachs and hips together.

Wade attacked him with his mouth. That was the only word for it. He wanted to bite and chomp at Logan's face. To rip the flesh from his immaculate cheeks. The only thing holding him back from going full animal was how tired he was. 

"Pick me up," he whined into Logan's neck, then jumped until his knees were locked around his hips. Logan made a little oomph sound, but snagged him around the waist and under his ass. 

He dropped them both on the couch. It was only just big enough to hold them, but not nearly long enough. Logan ended up with one leg up on the back of the couch, bent at the knee, shoulders propped on the arm. Wade settled into the shape his body made, curling one ankle underneath Logan's other leg. They were immediately intertwined. 

Their lips fell against each other, desperate and stupid from adrenaline. Familiar, though. It should be. They'd been doing this very thing almost every day for months. 

The end of this honeymoon phase was going to be a bitch .

Can you get That Good Dick DTs?

That feels insensitive…

FOCUS. 

They were getting hard against each other as they kissed, the weight of Wade's body pressing him deeper into Logan. 

Then that asshole pulled away.

"Probably shouldn't get too caught up in this. You've got your job tonight." 

Wade groaned, stretching a little. 

"There's no jooooob. There never was one." 

Logan's hands went extremely tight on Wade's skin. The very very very tippy tips of Logan's claws pierced his flesh, and he shivered in the pain-pleasure-pain. 

"If you say the words 'educated wish'..." His warning delivered, he retracted his claws again. 

Wade rolled his forehead across Logan's chest. 

"I started talking to my old merc contacts when we got back from the Void. I started picking up small jobs when you moved out. Real easy security shit. Made it easier to deal with you not being here. But then after the robot thing the jobs felt…boring. And any time I had to choose between working or spending time with you, I chose you. So I started getting picky."

"How are you paying your half of the rent?"

"That's the weird advantage of the merc work/shithole apartment combo. Couple good jobs and you're covered for the month. Not dressing in Givenchy, but you make it work." 

Logan sat up, forcing Wade to do a weird little half curl just to keep himself wrapped around his body.

"But why lie about it? I don't like you lying to me." His voice was sharp. Angry. Wade rolled back over his thighs to sit up on the couch. He brought a pillow over his half-hard cock to not distract himself then shoved one over Logan's for the same reason. 

"I don't know. I was embarrassed? Maybe? Worried you'd get tired of me, but also worried if I said I needed space you'd think I was tired of you . Problem solved in both directions if I have to go to a job. But I hate not being around you. It physically hurts when I don't get to see you for some reason. 

"Well not for some reason. There's a reason. It's because I still can't seem to remember what you smell like when you're not around. And you can smell me; you know what I smell like. You know I'm coming. I actually stole one of your shirts, and I sniff it when we're not together. And I'm like 'mmhmm, yep, that's Logan.' My boner certainly recognizes you. So why can't I smell you from a distance? Clearly that means I can't remember what you smell like. Then obviously there's other things I'm probably forgetting too, and I don't even realize it. 

"But what kind of needy-ass bitch tells someone 'hey, I have to sew my face to your ass Human Centipede style because I'm worried I'll forget what it tastes like.' Listen to how insane that sounds." 

"I do agree that you sound completely unhinged," Logan nodded. 

"Thank you for validating my emotions. I appreciate it." He leaned back on the couch. 

I'm actually completely serious; why does that sound so sarcastic?

#####

Logan traced the hunched curve of Wade's body as he curled up on himself. That was the thing that no one understood about Wade. The thing that he had to keep reminding himself when he told Wade to slow down and think. Wade did think. It was just too quick and frenzied, ideas cycling as fast as his brain regenerated new neurons. 

So when those thoughts emerged they sounded like madness.

"Wade." Logan stopped. Careful. Gentle. Breathe. "I can smell you because I have super senses. Other people can't smell each other from down the hallway. I need to be sure that you understand that before you spiral." 

"I want to be able to smell you," Wade replied blankly. 

"What if I wore a very specific cologne that you pick? Then you'll be able to smell me from farther away."

"But then you wouldn't smell like you anymore."

"So, see, you do know what I smell like."

Wade attempted to retort, then stopped, pursing his lips on his objection. Logan leaned over and rested his forehead on Wade's shoulder. Careful. Gentle. Breathe. 

"Don't lie to me, again." It was a bark, immediately losing the pattern of his mantra. "I can't do this if you lie to me." Wade's body tensed. 

"Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"I'm saying I love you. But love's not enough if you're going to keep big things from me. We're fine, still. It's okay. But it's not something I can ignore." Logan pressed his palms together and squeezed. Too much shit happened to his brain that he couldn't control. He didn't need additional complications.

Wade's hands crawled into the square of Logan's forearms and gripped them tight at the crook of his elbows. 

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please don't end us when we just started. I love you." He pushed his body into Logan's forcing them back into the position they were in before. "I'll show you. What do you want? Just tell me what to put where."

"Babe, shut up." Logan clapped his hand around the back of Wade's head and pressed it to his chest. "If you don't have to rush off somewhere, then just lay here with me. There's too little of that in my life." He dragged his fingers up and down Wade's spine. He had been too intense, let the trauma do too much of the talking.

The half-lie that made him follow Wade in the beginning had turned out all right. It was a falsehood he could understand the desperation of in hindsight. A little white lie about a gig from a man who literally didn't understand how his own brain worked wasn't the kind of thing to blow up a whole relationship for. And Wade understood. He wasn't ignoring him or disregarding his feelings on the matter.

Wade would remember this.

"You don't have to solve everything with sex or violence," Logan said. 

"What about sex and violence?"

"Sure. Okay. But only if they're at exactly the same time in equal amounts. "

"I love it when you pull out the quips. It's so sexy." Wade dragged his teeth down Logan's chest and kissed his nipple, running his tongue over it in little flicks.

"What did I just say about using sex to solve your problems?" But they'd also just had an incredibly serious conversation while both completely naked, so maybe Wade deserved at least a little credit. 

"My dick is shaking hands with yours, right now. Where did you think this was going?" 

Wade's arm snaked down into the space between them. His large hand came around both of them, pressing their shafts together. Just a little bit of movement, and the friction of his rough palm started Logan on the long, spiraling draw toward pleasure. He met his own hand with Wade's between them, wrapping around the other side of their paired lengths. Logan ran his other hand up the back of Wade's neck, pressing his fingers into the back of his skull. 

"That feels so goddamn good," Logan growled. 

"And you said not to use my cock to communicate." Wade ran a few kisses along Logan's jaw before nibbling on his skin. 

"Why do you use your teeth so much?" Logan asked between little kissing pecks across his lips.

"Because I'm a freak. Do you want me to stop?"

"Fuck no."

Wade nipped at Logan's chin harder.

"Why don't you use yours?" Wade asked. "Bring more of that mustelid energy to the bedroom."

"I have no idea what that means, but if that's what you want…" 

#####

Logan's teeth sunk hard into his shoulder where it met his neck and-

-fuck shit if I was closer I would have come a fountain. 

Logan's jaws locked into place, and he dropped the hand that had been on the back of Wade's head to around the small of his back. His hand tilted to grip around the shape of his ass, and their lower bodies pressed together tighter. Logan's hand grappled with his until he couldn't be sure who was stroking who, everything a mass of sensation on the back of that quick, hot buildup.

Slowly, the thoughts dripped out of his head until there was nothing left but need . Raw. Nerve endings that normally fired in pain instead trilling with pleasure.

Sex and violence. 

He pumped faster, trying to focus on the man underneath him at the same time. How Logan's skin felt against his. The scratch of Logan's body hair on his stomach and beard on his cheek. The sting of Logan's teeth in his muscles and the way his body kept trying to heal around them. The sloppy weep of Logan's precum dripping over his hand. The steam of Logan's sweat as it curled around their bodies. 

Tobacco and orange peel and leather and a jar of nickels. That's what Logan smells like. I know what Logan smells like. 

Logan fucked up into his hand from below, their heels and toes tangling together as they both tried to push against the couch for leverage. Logan's whole body tensed, hips thrusting up to lift them both. He released his mouth from Wade's shoulder and howled as he erupted over their hands. 

Wade crushed his mouth against Logan's as Logan brought him the rest of the way.

"Fuck," he whispered into Logan's mouth as the spring broke and his own cum spread out between their stomachs. He tried to dig for something else to say. Some little jokey joke to break the tension. He couldn't find anything, his brain flaring back to life with a gasp and a scream, full of nothing but Logan. 

#####

Logan flicked over Wade's shirt with a half-extended claw and caught it in his fist.

"Sit up," he murmured into Wade's ear. 

"Dun wanna." Wade tucked his arms under Logan's shoulders in protest. He stabbed Wade in the ass a little with the still out claw, and that startled him into rolling off just enough. "Love it when you use the claws to push me around."

"Do you actually?" He wiped them both down and threw the shirt on the floor. Wade rolled back, resting his head on Logan's chest. "Because I spend a lot of energy attempting to not spear people I care about through the stomach. If you're into it, though, I could be convinced to reconsider."

"Our safeword can be Graymalkin. Because I'm one of…Cable's ships…that…that one didn't come together." 

He was too tired to rise to the bait of whatever Wade was talking about and rested his hands gently on Wade's back instead. The TV across the room flicked on. 

"Found the remote. It was between the cushions." Wade flicked through some channels then stopped with a soft "oooh."

"What the fuck is this?"

"Say Yes to the Dress. Wedding dress shopping, but each one costs three month's rent."

"Shit, weddings are expensive." He watched the movement on the TV for a careful few minutes. "Okay, that dress looks great on her. Why is her mom being a bitch about it?"

"FUCKING RIGHT?"

Logan woke at the sound of someone at the door. They had fallen asleep on the couch and it had grown dark in the interim. He pulled an arm out from under Wade's weight, shook the pins and needles out, and prepped his claws to spring free. Whoever it was slid a key into the lock. He relaxed. Althea. She had caught them in worse, and at least she wouldn't see they were currently naked on her couch. Logan shook Wade awake a little. 

"Althea's home. We should maybe pretend we're decent people."

"We're absolutely not, though," Wade said sleepily but moved to sit up. He half pulled the blanket off the back of the couch, but was still waking up and moving slowly. 

The lock clicked and the door cracked. 

"Hey, you old slut," Wade yawned. Then the door finished opening. 

"Oh my god. I'm gonna gouge my own eyes out." Laura pushed Colossus in front of her and used his body to block her view. For his part, he lifted his hand to shield his eyes and turned away. 

"I said to knock when entering a man's private home." His deep Russian accent was caught between admonishment and embarrassment. 

Logan snatched the blanket and threw it over both of them. 

"If you don't want to see my ass, then hand me some pants," Logan barked, gesturing toward the clothes hampers. 

Colossus volunteered himself for the task, still keeping his back to them as he grabbed a set of shorts and a pair of sweats and threw them across the room. Logan gave Wade the shorts and shimmied into the sweat pants. 

"Laura, what the fuck are you doing here?" He stood, moving away from the couch. She gave half a glance over her shoulder then turned when she could confirm he was half-dressed. 

"You said you were going to train with me tonight, but you didn't come back." 

"Shit." Logan pressed his palms to his forehead. "I'm so sorry, kid. Wade's job…got canceled-" the lie came easy and he hated himself a little for it "-and I lost track of time."

"Yeah, I can see that," she tsked. 

"You didn't need to come all the way here."

"That idiot throwing a baby out of a car is getting memed on TikTok, right now." Laura gestured to Wade. 

"Oooh, I've never been viral before. Well, not on the internet. Been viral a few other ways." Wade had propped himself up on the arm of the couch. 

"So I called your phone to check on you. When you didn't answer, I got worried. Colossus offered to drive me over, and Yukio gave me her emergency key."

"My phone…" Logan lifted his hand to his chest where his shirt pocket would have been. The shirt that was currently curled up in the back of the Civic. "Shit."

Logan dropped on the arm of the couch, scooting Wade over a few inches. 

"Okay, how do I fix this?" Logan asked.

"I don't know. You're not dead, so I get to be mad at you. But you're not dead, so I'm also relieved." Laura spread her hands in a weird half-shrug.

"You could set up a training schedule," Colossus tried to mediate. 

"Wait, that's actually a really good idea." Wade hung half-off the couch. "Because I'll fight you. Like, I'll kick your fucking ass as hard as you want."

"I could go for that," Laura replied. 

"Your level of enthusiasm worries me," Logan said. 

"It's your DNA," Wade reminded him. He pressed his eyes shut in annoyance, realizing he was right, and that was really fucking weird the more he thought about it. 

"Let's set that up, okay? Book us into the Danger Room. We'll make it a standing date."

"Yeah," Laura said quietly. She bit her lip and took several hard breaths. He recognized that coping mechanism. "Come here a sec." She moved into the corner of the kitchen part of the space. Not a lot of room from the other two but they had a vague sense of privacy if Logan created a body-wall. She lowered her voice. 

"You're not my dad," she started.

"I…am, though…"

"You know what I mean," she sighed. "You were the closest thing I ever had to a real parent who actually loved me. But our time together was so short. And we kicked ass in the Void. But you're also dead. I mourned you. But now you're here."

"And I'm not your Logan. No, I get it." He crossed his arms over his chest, hyper aware of being shirtless, still. 

"I'd like you to be one of my Logans, though. But I'm not totally sure what that looks like or how to do that. And as much as it annoys me, I'm also dealing with the fact that I have to share you."

Logan glanced down, looking for Wade out of the corner of his eye. Wade was watching them over the top of the couch, peeking up just the top of his head.

"I already had this conversation with him, but I haven't really been part of a family in awhile. So if I fuck it up…"

"Hey." She punched him in the arm. "If I end up living as long as you do, we got time to figure it out, right?"

"Those smarts aren't my DNA."

"Nurture vs nature?" She patted her hands on her thighs. "Well, you're alive. So I'll go. Forgive me if I don't hug you goodbye."

"Yeah." He reached out and patted her on the side of the arm. "Thank you for giving a shit about me, kid. And Wade, even though he's an idiot."

"You're both easy to give a shit about it." She paused. "Also, your pants say Big Booty Goddess on the back. Thought you should know."

#####

Easy to give a shit about. 

Ringing endorsement, honestly. 

They had finally found the note that Al left them about a long weekend in Atlantic City. Logan had already decided to stay that night, but that secured it. Didn't mean he didn't freak out a little when the other half of the fold out sofa was empty an hour after they had gone to bed.  

Logan had only gone as far as the dining table, though, talking on the cellphone he had finally retrieved from the car and working through the last few swallows of a floral juice glass of Jack Daniels. Wade watched him with his chin on the back of the couch.

"Okay so she's in her room…Okay…Thanks, Hank…She was supposed to text me when she got back, but…No I recognize the hypocrisy doesn't mean I didn't want to check on her." Logan chuckled darkly. "Um, I was going to talk to you about this tomorrow, but since I have you I figured I'd give you a heads up. Not blind side you. If there's a place for me on the X-Men, I don't want to lose it, but I want to live with my boyfriend. Maybe be available for freelance. Only if that's doable, though."

boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend

"Can we talk about what that might look like? Yeah…Okay… Yeah. I'll be back in the morning…Yes I'll talk to Scott….yeah. Okay. Thanks again, Hank." He set the phone down gently, considered the opposite wall for a minute, then stood.

He noticed Wade watching, but didn't say anything before crawling back into bed. He opened his arms and made a gesture that Wade should settle in. He didn't hesitate, curling up against Logan's chest.

"Boyfriend?" Wade asked.

"Are you not?"

"No I…I am…" Wade pressed a hand to Logan's chest. "Can I be serious with you?"

"God, please do." 

"Don't give up being an X-Men just because I'm a wreck. Don't pick me over them."

Logan kissed him on the forehead. 

"Not off the team, yet. And even if that's how things work out, it wouldn't be picking you. It'd be picking me. Picking a life I built myself that wants you in it."

Wade pressed tighter to Logan's body. Scent. Sight. Touch. Taste. He wanted to take it all in, to capture this exact moment in time. 

I'm not fucking forgetting this.

[mixterglacia]

Content Warning: VIVZIEPOP CRITICAL/STOLITZ CRITICAL UNDER THE CUT.

TL;DR: The episode felt very disjointed, with an extremely weak opening and a decent end.

Biggest takeaway from this episode is how incapable the team seems to be at balancing themselves. Their humor is mediocre, but fine, with moments of brilliance. But when paired with the serious elements, it cheapens both to the point of totally undermining themselves.

The first half DRAGGED on, and got old pretty instantaneously. I am begging this writing crew to get better material than "haha tit dick swear word laughter pls". Often times, it takes away from a potentially great gag. Take the bellhop/igor guy. His initial reveal was hilarious, and got a full on belly laugh out of me. The moment he spoke totally ruined the bit.

You had it in the bag! You don't need to gild a lily! This is the penguins all over again. The decent end was so bogged down by the first half that it dulled all that followed.

The one through line that I enjoyed was Moxxie spiraling over the finances. Very well done.

I'm not particularly pressed about Blitz being this distressed over the breakup, but they're not focusing on what I feel is realistic for him? If you started it by having him panicking over losing his one source of income, that makes more sense.

Have money be the beginning, then transition into his deeper feelings. This way it doesn't feel at odds with his motivations in previous episodes. His meltdown is believable, but you've done nothing to show the path he took to get there. It was like a switch flipping, rather than natural progression. It wasn't earned. Especially when their relationship is nothing short of emotional abuse.

Abuse victims often go back to their abuser, but they're trying to frame it as something romantic. This. Is. Abuse. Financial, emotional, and social abuse.

Speaking of earning, the second half's payoff. As I said, the humor being so lackluster in the start tarnished the good writing at the back end. There's no balance. The jokes weren't strong enough to contrast the heartfelt parts.

I really do appreciate them actually putting effort into Millie for once. I wish it was more consistent, because often she's totally shoved to the sidelines. She's not a main character, but that doesn't mean you can neglect her until you need her to make the boys look better. I'm also a bit ???? about her saying that Blitz makes her life better? She's constantly in trouble and financial duress because of him.

If they really wanted to make the end feel more cohesive, they needed to spend time focusing on her relationship with Blitz in the rest of the series. There's practically nothing beyond him bitching at her. Or harassing her and her husband. You need to lay the foundation so your house doesn't sink into the earth.

Once again, the Helluverse's greatest flaw is them not wanting to spend time to earn their cool shit. It's nothing more than a series of loosely connected drabbles. That structuring can work, but you need to commit to the nature of it. The team can't decide what they want from their product and it shows.

What. Is. The. Point?

Is this slice of life? Is it telenovela? Is it the Office, but in Hell? What is the goal? Because it's getting EXHAUSTING to try and follow. There's nothing wrong with wanting to change the plot of your work. But you have to put in the effort to make that transition solid. This is something they don't seem to grasp.

Additionally, if this if going to be used to set up Blitz finally cutting Stolas out of his life, it would be a decent frame for that. The entire office is circling the drain because a rich, pompous, pathetic little prince formed a parasocial relationship with someone that never liked him in that way. This episode would hold a lot of weight to swing at Stolas. But I fear they're just going to use the "uwu he secretly misses him" aspect, and neglect the owl RUINING FOUR PEOPLE'S LIVES BECAUSE HIS FAKE BOYFRIEND DOESN'T WANT TO COMMIT TO A FAKE RELATIONSHIP.

Small bits:

The antagonist was fun, and honestly surprised me with the quality of his writing. If the first half was stronger, or not present, I'd consider this one of the best episodes overall.

I'm not entirely clear on why Blitz is so fixated on fucking a ghost? He has no issue getting dick/pussy in hell so what's the issue? Is he mildly addicted to the softcore he's watching? Dunno. It's just one of the bits that bogged down the start.

Rodgers and Nixon did a very good job with what they had voice wise. Major kudos.

[ouroborosorder]

what do you think the most stellar examples of arknights' vfx are?

Okay so there are a lot of examples, so I'm going to try to keep my description of each one short. Unsurprisingly, most of my favorite effects are on more recent, paid skins for fan-favorite/meta 6* operators, since those are the ones they put their whole ass into.

Executor the Ex Foedere. The way that it weaves blasts of light and the shapes of Sankta wings into his shotgun blasts is absurdly creative. Perfect for a saint of Laterano.

Passenger's Skin. Specifically his S3. Stellar lightning is a weird pitch, but it's so fucking beautiful that it works. This is the effect that convinced me that I might enjoy being a VFX artist after all, not fucking kidding.

Jessica Alter. Look. Her skills are underwhelming as fuck, they're all the same shot effects every time. But. Do you genuinely understand how amazing these gunshots look? Do you know how hard it is to make a stylized gunshot that doesn't just look like magic? These are breathtakingly good. The glass shattering on hit genuinely made my jaw drop when I first saw it.

Eyjafjalla the Hvit Aska. It's hard to make a healer that genuinely looks unique, but Eyjalter's dreamlike colors and flat effects manage to bring the visual style of So Long Adele into every map and make it look reasonable with the artstyle.

Kirin R Yato. Monster Hunter's effects are extremely distinct, and seeing them recreate MH's style in Arknights' is really lovely. My one sorrow is that I wish there was more lightning, since like. Kirin.

Lin. Glass is a legitamately hard thing to pull off because it so often just looks like crystal, but leaning more into glass dust and shards makes it work perfectly. Her skin is also quite pretty, but it loses the glass look that made me love Lin to begin with.

Reed the Flame Shadow. Holy fucking shit holy fucking shit holy fucking shit holy fucking shit fire made of flowers?? The way the fire looks secondary to the whole thing while being undeniably present is stunning. Her skin is nowhere near as good tho.

Penance. Penance has such a stunning aesthetic that it immediately endeared me to her. Her vibe of gilded thorny chains carries to her effects and it works.

Texas the Omertosa. Fucking. Duh. It's hard to make a normal sword swipe look unqiue but Texas nails it. Her skin's effects are even more stunning, even if the animations are awful.

Minimalist. It's hard to make effects that are minimalist and still look good.

Specter the Unchained + Skin. I need to specificially call out her skin. Her skin may be one of my favorite pieces of effects at all time. The colors, the aegirian poetry as part of the visuals, the stellar water, it's all practically perfect.

Kazemaru. A sleeper hit!! She's got a lot going on with the "paper-controlling ninja whose clone has a completely unique aesthetic" thing so it seems like she might be too busy, but it manages to pull it off. Shoutouts to her clone's spawn, which actually does the slash mesh slightly wrong intentionally because the ring look actually helps a lot.

Goldenglow. It's rare that I see a lightning character and say "I have never seen anything like that before in my life" and Goldenglow's pink and blue stylized lightning genuinely shocked me.

Ling (Does it Wash The Strings). If you want my choice for best VFX in the game, this would at least be in running for first. It's flashy as hell, but manages to not be overbearing. The S3 dragon attacking with mountains rising from the earth alone is stunning, but the normal attack impact is my favorite part of the entire thing. It's so simple and elegant and stylish.

Amiya Guard. Amiya's Guard form is the combination of Amiya's Arts, Sarkaz Arts, Ch'en's swordfighting, the normal AK Arts and sword design languages, and a tiny bit of weird space tech to represent the Precursors. And it manages to come together to something that feels really cohesive while still drawing attention to how incongruous these elements are. The effects actively tell the story of Amiya - a girl with big shoes to fill, carrying the legacy of so many.

Ceobe, and her Unfettered Freedom skin. At this point in Arknights' lifespan, they had a much more defined visual language for how Casters look compared to melee units. Ceobe, being a Caster who throws fucking enchanted melee weapons instead of casting spells? So she combines their languages, with the buildup and trails of Arts casters and impacts of melee units, it's subtle and I love it. Unfettered Freedom deserves a special shoutout because I love geometric magic so fucking much.

Conviction's Skin. Why is this so good they're a joke operator.

Dorothy's Skin. I may have mixed opinions on this skin, but the effects are objectively stunning. I am personally heartbroken that she doesn't have the sand anymore, but that's a personal thing. I also don't like that her S3's range is obfuscated by the explosion but again that's nitpicking.

There's probably WAY more that I've missed and even more I cut for time, but those are my favorites after browsing the list of operators and skins for like, two hours straight. If there are a few I missed... Look, this list is this long already.

Also note that I didn't really list enemies or anything other than playable operators. Their enemy effects are usually... servicable, with a few standout exceptions with Talulah and Frostnova.

[styling-sky-specimen]

Hello! 🦭 This is my princess inspired outfit :D My number one choice for tea parties and music ensembles

Curious to know your blunt opinion/critic/advice ♡

Lots of love!

💙ヾ⁠(⁠*⁠’⁠Ｏ⁠’⁠*⁠)⁠/ 🩵

Color: 0/2

Lets talk about the colors here. You have every color under the rainbow on this character besides red. Can you make rainbow work? Yes, yes you can. It's difficult to do rainbow without being too much or too tacky. On your character it is WAY too much. You got blue on top, yellow cheeks, blue, purple cape, orange outfit, and more blue. It's hard to see exactly what these colors are doing because it's everywhere.

Advice wise, pick a color scheme. It seems you lean a bit more blue so try maybe creating something blue and purple or blue and orange. Colors should blend together when making outfits and feel like one cohesive style, not like each individual piece is screaming for attention. It's just an eyesore this way.

Shape: 1/2

I think shape wise you look fine, great even, until you get to that outfit. The orange dress does not pair with that purple capes shape. It makes your skykid look oddly bulky. You may be able to fix this by adjusting your kids stance but, in my opinion, it would just be a good idea to ditch the dress or get a differently shaped cape. It just looks too stiff and bulky.

Theme: 2/2

I can see the princess influence very clearly in this outfit from the crown, hair, and cape. It definitely looks very formal and regal. Very nicely done there.

Creativity: 2/2

Definitely a bunch of different influences from a bunch of different sources. It doesn't lean to heavily on one season to carry it, it has your own originality attached to it.

Personal Preference: 0/2

I really, really struggle getting past the jarring color scheme. You definitely gave it a good shot and know what you're doing when thinking of thematic elements, you just need practice in the execution.

Overall Score: 5/10

Notes: No matter my opinion, your outfit is for YOU to love not me. Take what I say with a grain of salt. I was blunt as requested but even my unfiltered opinion doesn't matter if you like it. Lots of love to you as well. <3

If you would like me to rate your outfit simply submit an ask!

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

OK I slept on it and I think I need to stop playing guitar at my church and probably just stop attending entirely

The reasons for this are many, but I'm going to summarize the music thing in particular by saying that playing there has been one of the most bizarrely lonely experiences of my life

I've been playing there now eighteen months and this has been an issue pretty much the whole time. Most of them have known each other for years and are brilliant friends. It's always very difficult to break into a dynamic like that. I only make it worse, to be honest. I'm not super socially aggressive, I'm not good at small talk, and nothing about my disposition advertises that I am an approachable person. My attempts to fix this both in this specific context and in my life more generally have yielded...mixed results. Furthermore, I have gathered from eighteen months of listening to these peoples' conversations that we have essentially nothing in common.

This is compounded by the way the music itself is actually done. Everyone has in-ear monitors--sound-cancelling headphones connected to a personal sound mixing board. The strength of this approach is that everyone can create for themselves a mix that emphasizes the parts they most need to hear, and it makes it much easier to run sound for the auditorium because the sound engineers don't need to try to manage stage volume and try to balance the often irrational desires of the musicians with the demands of a good mix (e.g., if your guitar player is deaf and needs the guitar blasting on the stage, it's hard to make a good mix for people listening that doesn't feature the guitar blasting from the stage).

But this has the effect of hermetically sealing every person in the band from everyone else. You can only communicate with other people if you have a microphone and they have your microphone turned on. The experience is weirdly solipsistic. As you play, you simply have no idea what everyone else in the band is hearing. They might not hear you at all. You yourself have your own mix in your ears and you have no idea how what you are playing translates into the actual mix. You could, theoretically, be wailing away at full volume while the people at the sound board have switched you off. I don't sing so I don't have a microphone, so if I want to communicate with someone I need physically to walk to them and then gesticulate to get them to take out their headphone so that I can talk. This makes the relative cost of a social interaction fairly high, and so I am only going to do it if there is a problem that I cannot fix or endure.

This does not make for an environment of social cohesion. It's actually quite dehumanizing in a way. You are a widget who is plugged in and unplugged each week, it makes no real difference who else is there, and for all you know nothing you are playing is even being heard.

These are issues I have endured basically because I feel that I ought to perform some volunteer service for the church, and because they have continued to schedule me to play. But I strongly suspect that their opinion of my ability is rather diminishing, possibly because I can't devote as much time to practice as I could in the past because of my many and multiplying obligations elsewhere. But I would never know. Nobody really talks to me. I'm not really given notes about what I'm playing, which I take as a sign of indifference rather than approval. Sometimes people have said in the past that I played well, but not lately, perhaps because it no longer needs to be said, or perhaps because it is no longer true. I have no idea who if anyone even hears what I am doing. For all I know they have a recording playing and I am just up there to make it look like someone plays guitar, though I am not an especially good looking person so I'm not sure why I would need to be doing that.

I have also endured it up to now because life has been more endurable otherwise, and I felt like some suffering in the cause of volunteering was all right. But now that my life outside of this volunteering has become much less tolerable, volunteering itself has become much less tolerable. It's not clear to me I am adding anything other than a warm body, I am not especially enjoying the playing itself, and the experience of alienation and isolation that surrounds the experience--the awkward lack of small talk during setup and tear down, the awkward silence during the many down times--is positively punishing.

Yet further complications include that the music itself is extremely stupid, the theological content of the lyrics generally nonexistent, and my feelings about this brand of Protestantism increasingly sour.

Now the grown up thing to do is just to tell them that I cannot do it because I am so busy with other things. This relieves them of my existence in a way that spares them having ever to tell me that I am not good enough to be there or that I do not belong, and maintains the illusion of good will on both sides.

But the almost irresistible temptation is to say nothing and just vanish.