#it took me a while to find people who did

[m0nnypie]

DREAMER

Warning: smut, sex dream, oral sex (m), profanity, MDNI, +18, characters in yours 20's, degradation

Synopsis: He always captured you, no matter how many times you escaped from prison. But for the first time, you decided to try something different, what if you invaded the dream of the one who torments you the most?

Words: 1.4k

You felt like vomiting with the force he put his boot on your stomach. He always did this, blow you away for a few minutes, then pin you to the floor or the wall, and humiliate you in the worst ways, until it was time to arrest you.

“What’s wrong? Are you going to cry? Jeez… you’re so useless that you’re not even fit to be a villain..” he looked at you with disdain.

“Egh.. You disgust me”

“F-fuck you” you tried to get his foot off you, but he was strong. You might be smart, and even have an interesting quirk, but when it came to physical strength, especially compared to the #2 hero, you lost.

It didn’t take long for the police to arrive, and take you where you belonged, according to the arrogant blond.

But this time things would be different, running away would be too easy. Sometimes you wonder if you're stupid or just dumb, because in all this time you've never thought of invading his dream. Because, like your grandma used to say, dreams are storytellers.

Well, you were about to tell the world a great story about what an incredible hero Dynamight was.

It had been a while since you last entered someone's dream. Not that you hated it, but most people thought using your Quirk was useless, so you rarely used it.

But who would have thought that you would use your beloved Quirk with the one who tormented you the most, the one you wished was dead?

The bad part was that the way you entered dreams depended a lot on the person. You'd seen some that were bridges to cross, others were doors, some were more interesting, like a fast balloon ride. You wondered what the blond one would be like.

After searching a lot, you found it. It was a door, a simple wooden door. You thought it was funny, you imagined that the way he was, it would be something grand, just like his ego.

As soon as you opened the door, you entered something that was probably his house. It was very beautiful and cozy. There were pictures of family and friends scattered around the house, one that caught your attention was of him next to a boy with green hair. It was cute.

You found the silence strange, you imagined that even in his dreams it would be noisy, but you couldn't even find it him. You wandered around the house for a few minutes, too busy to notice the noises coming from the room.

You only noticed the strange sounds when you were already in front of the door. You carefully opened the door, and when you looked into the room, you froze.

There he was, sitting on the edge of the bed, moaning nonsense. And crouched in front of him, there was you, sucking him with devotion. My God. He was having an erotic dream about you.

You closed the door quickly. You didn't want him to notice your presence. You started running towards the exit, thinking that you should never have entered his dream. But something made you stop.

What if... maybe, you took advantage of this moment? I mean, what would be the problem? There's nothing wrong, you'd just be making his dream a little more realistic...

So you slowly walked back to the room, thinking seriously about what you were about to do.

You entered the room confidently. But your confidence died as soon as you looked at your dream version, who was looking at you while sucking the blond, as if you was making fun of you.

You were lucky that he was so focused on the pleasure that he didn't even notice you approaching. You quickly made your dream version disappear, putting yourself in her place. Your nervousness was eating you alive, and if he noticed? No, he wouldn't be able to.

As soon as he didn't feel anything around his own cock, he opened his eyes. Those damn red eyes, so deep, that they pulled you into an endless abyss, from which you would never want to leave.

"What's wrong? Why did you stop? Is my cock too much for you to handle?"

You could feel the shame rising in your cheeks. Letting out a moan when you felt him pulling your head back, with his hand tangled in your hair.

He looked at you from above, almost with disdain. And that, for some reason, made you very wet, making you squeeze your thighs together to get some kind of relief from the sensation that consumed you.

"Poor thing, you're so useless that you're not even good enough for a blowjob... do you need help, bitch?" You could feel him pulling on your hair, which made involuntary moans come out of your mouth.

“Y-yes…please” you felt like you were capable of going crazy with this, the way he looked at you, and how he pulled your hair hard, but without hurting. Fuck, it made you lose any shred of sanity

“This is so embarrassing for you, I almost feel sorry for you…but then I remember what a little slut you really are.” He ran his finger over your lips, then stuck his finger in your mouth, telling you to suck it, even without saying any words.

You practically flooded his hand with your drool, you could feel your pussy vibrating every time you sucked his finger hard, you were pathetic, so ridiculous. You let out a moan when you felt him take his finger out of your mouth. He looked at you as if he felt sorry for you, showing you how pathetic you were.

“You really are such a little bitch, am I going to have to do all the work?” He pulled your head back, holding it for a few seconds before telling you to put his cock in your mouth.

It was huge, it was hard not to choke on every inch that filled your mouth. As soon as he felt it enter halfway, he lowered your head hard, making his cock enter the back of your throat. Making you choke and tears come out of your eyes.

He left you like that for a while, until he felt you grip his thigh because you were having trouble breathing. But he barely gave you time to relax, he quickly started to move your head up and down, while holding you by your ponytail.

You drooled all over his length, taking advantage of the fact that there was no way out, to rub your rough tongue on his cock, and lightly scrape your teeth. This made him moan a little, he wasn't very vocal, how sad you thought. You would love to hear him moan, while he had his cock in your mouth.

In a few minutes he left the movements completely to you, too overcome by pleasure to dare to make any effort. You stuck it all the way down your throat, licking the entire length, releasing your drool along the way, to make it easier every time you put it in your mouth.

You felt his veins pop out, showing that he was close to cumming. Then you started sucking his pink head, while you masturbated the rest of his length with your hand.

Within seconds, he came. You looked at him, flooded with lust, as you swallowed his sperm and cleaned up what had leaked.

“This is just the beginning, you hear me, my little slut?” He held your face, squeezing your cheeks with one hand.

“Yes…” you were overcome with lust, making nothing else cross your mind, other than the enormous desire for him to stick his huge cock inside you and fuck you until you forgot your own name.

Before you could decide anything, he pulled you up, throwing you on the bed. And something you didn’t expect at all happened. He kissed you.

His tongue dominated yours. It was a hot, quick, lustful kiss, taking all the air from your lungs. With the separation, you moaned in frustration.

But soon smiled when you felt him rip your shirt. His hands squeezed your breasts tightly, if it weren't for the immense pleasure, you would probably complain about the pain.

He didn't give you much time before ripping off your shorts and panties. Leaving you now, naked and completely at his mercy. You could see the treacherous smile that formed on his face.

You felt him turn you brutally onto your back, bringing your arms back and holding them. You felt him get closer, his mouth at your ear as he nibbled on your earlobe. His hair tickled. That thought made you laugh.

"Do you think this funny? When I fuck you so hard that you'll forget your own name, I wanna see if you'll laugh."

Oh, yes. This would be a hard night, very hard and fun.

If y'all like, I do pt 2! 😭 Pls reblog or gimme some like or coment, wanna know what u think. 🤌🏻 'N SORRY FOR MY ENGLISH, ITS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE 😭

[angel1010xx]

ｂｅｇ ｆｏｒ ｍｅ

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Pairing: Zoro x Reader (NSFW)

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Goddammit woman, why didn’t you fucking listen to me?!” 

Zoro was livid. Here was a man, towering in front of you, menacing, broad, ominously powerful—a man that has cut mountains in half—a man that just so happened to be unbelievably pissed off at you. 

“Don’t even try raising your voice at me!” You retorted back. “We would have lost everything if I didn’t make that move! Everything that the whole crew has been trying to protect would have been for nothing, Zoro! Nothing!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck,” Zoro spat, “about some cuckoo artifact that some podunk fucking scientist made.” He sneered, slowly taking steps towards you as if he were a beast waiting to pounce on its prey. 

Zoro had practically ripped your cabin door off of its hinges as soon as the Thousand Sunny had set sail again. This was only a few moments ago. Robin uncovered an artifact on the island the crew had stopped at, which just so happened to be one that was really, dreadfully needed. However, there were some… complications while leaving the island, to put it lightly. There was one particular enemy who tried to stop the crew. This nuisance had eaten a devil fruit that granted him the ability to neutralize one’s ability to fight, like a switch being flipped to the off position. He could only affect so many people at one time, and you were one of the unlucky ones to basically become a citizen in the battlefield. 

That didn’t make you take a tactical retreat, much to the chagrin of a certain swordsman. “Then what do you give a fuck about, Zoro?”

“You want to know what I give a fuck about?” Zoro breathed out in a mocking tone of voice, now standing chest to chest with you. His eyes burned into your own. “Right now, it’s teaching you a fucking lesson.” 

Zoro pushed you against the wall, and you let out a small yelp in surprise. He was still dirty from the battle, sweaty, scraped up… but you didn’t have time to think about that, because he crashed his lips onto yours with a feverish need. You yelped again, and all Zoro did was bite your bottom lip.

You felt your brain short-circuit. What was going on? 

The swordsman reached down to put his hands on the back of your thighs, and he hoisted you up in the air in one swift motion. Instinctively, you wrapped both your arms and legs around him, your back still against the wall. “Zoro, what are you—?” 

The swordman’s lips descended on your neck, and he just kept sucking and biting you. He groaned into your neck, and the combination of the low pitch of his voice, the vibration, and the warmth of his breath and mouth were all too much for you. Zoro bit your collarbone, and you gasped. He pulled away to kiss you again. “Shut up.” 

Zoro pulled away from the wall, and took a few calculated steps backwards so he could throw you on your bed. You gazed up at him, completely flushed, but you felt an ache between your thighs. He wasted no time to straddle you, trapping your legs between his, and he grabbed your wrists. “You are going to listen to me right now.” 

He growled in such a desperate way while he tied his ever-so-handy signature bandana around your wrists, and stared down at you. You were underneath him, writhing around, rubbing your thighs together for some friction and relief. You looked dirty, you looked needy, and you looked ravageable. 

Zoro got off of on top of you, and stood by the edge of the bed. He grabbed your hips and pulled you towards him, and you gasped as he ripped through any fabric barrier between you and the air. What’s gotten into him?

He spat on your cunt, then teasingly rubbed one finger in-between your folds. You moaned and arched your back, finding it hard to handle his slow pace. He didn’t let up, though; he kept rubbing his thumb in lazy circles over your entrance, then moving up to rub lazy circles on your clit, and then back down. “Fuck, Zoro, why are you teasing me…?”

“Because you don’t know how to listen.” He watched with sadistic glee as you bucked your hips against his thumb, desperate for more stimulation. “I need you to know who’s in control.” Zoro kept staring a hole into your soul, pride swelling up in his chest as he gazed down at your swollen lips and all the marks he left on your neck. So fucking pretty.

“You want more?” He asked, barely sliding the tip of his middle finger in and out of you. “Tell me you want more. I’m not giving you anything until you beg.”

You bit your lip, not wanting to give in, but your sopping cunt was aching. You shook your head at Zoro. “No…”

He leaned over you, lips hovering just above yours, and growled at you while pulling hard on one of your nipples. “Beg.”

You cried out, grinding your hips against Zoro’s, whimpering as he continued to tug and squeeze your nipples. He grunted, grinding back against you, shuddering from the adrenaline. “Tell me what you want, and fucking beg me for it.”

You let out a shaky breath. “Zoro, I need you inside me…. Please. I—please, Zoro—”

The swordsman took a second to tear his own clothes off of him. God, he was beautiful. Your eyes trailed down further and further… and God, how was he going to fit?!

Zoro smacked his dick against your cunt a few times before lining himself up with your entrance. “Say ‘please’ for me, one more time.”

“…Please.”

He pushed himself inside you in one hard thrust, giving you no time to adjust. An embarrassing squeal came out of your mouth. He was long, and he was girthy, and it felt like you were being split into two. His hand reached up to hold your tied-up ones, and he drilled into you like a man starving for water.

Sloppy, messy, wet, and god it felt so good.

Moans kept pouring out of your mouth as Zoro’s dick kissed your cervix with each thrust. He leaned his upper body onto yours, his voice dark with his own moans and grunts as he again began kissing and marking your neck. “Y’know what I give a fuck about?” He panted. “My woman. Alive.” 

“Zoro, I’m sorry—” 

Zoro changed his pace, his thrusts becoming slower and harder. Your body rocked with each one, and he put his finger in your mouth. “Ah ah ah. Show me you’re sorry. Beg for me. Beg me to make you cum on my dick.”

Your face was burning, you were swimming in pleasure, and your mind was a haze. You could smell sweat and a lingering trace of cologne, you could smell your own wetness, and all you could focus on was the growing, warm pit in your abdomen. His dick was rubbing just the right spot, but your body needed just a little bit more attention there, just a little bit more tension so you could snap—

“Fuck, please, Zoro. Please, I need you to make me cum. I need to cum on you, I’m so close, I—”

Zoro leaned back and put your ankles over his shoulders, and he began ravaging you like the beast he had been acting like earlier. It was all you could do to take it,

it was overwhelming, but his dick was curving right into that perfect spot, over, and over, and over, and over…

You cried out again, feeling the tension finally snap, and you saw white as your orgasm flooded every sense in you. “Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.” You heard Zoro moan, and he snapped his hips into yours a few more erratic times before you felt him twitch, and then you felt the strangest sensation of being full.

He stayed inside you while the two of you fought to catch a breath.

The swordsman grunted, slowly pulling out. You could feel cum spilling out of you. He laid next to you, and untied your wrists. “I can’t… I can’t protect you when you run into the fight vulnerable like that. You were supposed to go where it was safe.”

You sighed, turning onto your side to face him, and traced your finger over the scar on his chest. “’M sorry, Zoro. I was trying to do the right thing.”

“I know,” he murmured, placing his hand over yours. 

He really couldn’t stay mad at you. 

[tinalbion]

'𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐄𝐧𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐌𝐞' ||

Part 2 of 'The Sweetest Sin'

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Logan Howlett/ The Wolverine x afab!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with plot, afab!reader, mutant!reader, unprotected p in v, outdoor sex, cowgirl, doggy style against the Honda Odessey, creampies, some possessive Logan, canon typical language, angst, feelings, talks of death, Deadpool and Wolverine spoilers, Cassandra doing her little finger fun, domestic Logan and Wade, happy ending

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 9.1k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, Logan, and Wade are taken to an unknown hideout in the borderlands, and you find some unlikely help to take down Cassandra. There's definitely tension between you and Logan now, but you know there's something in him that can't deny that shot of getting back. Will anyone be able to convince him, and if so, what does that mean for you?

A few readers on Ao3 requested a part 2 to this and I wanted to make a part 2 SO badly! So here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

You didn't recall falling asleep in the back of the piece of garbage that was the Honda Odyssey, you didn't even remember Deadpool showing up and snuggling between you two as he passed out, waiting for one of you to wake up. Surprisingly, he didn't bother to wake either of you, not when it was clear you two just fucked your brains out in this God-forsaken vehicle. What a shame he hadn't been invited, but Wade was proud of his little Peanut for stepping up and being the big man, in more ways than one. 

As Deadpool slipped in between you two, somehow managing to make himself as comfortable as possible, none of you felt the car move, or drive away from its parked state, nor did you feel it when someone obviously picked all three of you up and took you into this strange place. 

You awoke to a strange room, discarded on a random bed in the middle of a strange building, looking as if it were any other apartment with several roommates. It was lived in, that was for sure, liquor bottles and beer cans were spread about the place. You looked around and couldn't imagine who would be here but all three of you had made it here, so that must have meant you found the people you needed to find. Or at least, they found you.

The three of you must have been thrown onto the same bed considering you woke up next to Deadpool, passed out, cuddled under a golden blanket, but there was no Logan. You looked around and saw him standing near a window, an open liquor bottle in his hand as he leaned against the wall, staring into the morning light.  A small smile played on your lips as you carefully pushed yourself off of the bed so as not to disturb Wade, and then you walked over toward Logan. 

He obviously heard you coming but didn't acknowledge you, not yet, he was still wallowing in self-pity as he drank away his feelings yet again. The vicious cycle continued. 

You stepped next to him and stared out the window for a moment, adjusting to being awake as you let out a yawn. “Any idea where we are?” You asked softly, your head turning to meet his. 

Logan shook his head. “Nope, but they're pretty well stocked, that's all that matters to me.” I scoffed and threw his head back, taking a large swig of Jim Beam.

With your hands fidgeting, he could tell you wanted to say something, probably about yesterday and what you two had done. He figured it was coming, and he'd thought about it for the while he'd been awake; he had every intention of remaining by your side, even if their timeline was going to shit and the X-Men were dead, he had you, he realized that now. 

“Go ahead and say what you wanna say, bub, may as well before the Mouth wakes up,” he grumbled softly. 

You chuckled at the nickname, finding it fitting for Wade, but you sighed and nodded. He was right, you weren't sure where this would end up for the both of you, so you had to say what you needed to say. 

“Logan, I know that you're probably wanting to forget yesterday ever happened, and I get it, but I never will. The fact still stands: I love you. Nothing's gonna change that, I don't care how bad you think you are, I see more than that.” 

Logan sighed and looked over at you, catching your gaze as you stared over at him, and his expression softened at the mere sight of you. How blind he'd been to your dedication, your love, your kindness… he wasn't used to being wanted anymore, he was used to being the town fuck up, the one everyone could sneer at and blame for their problems. 

“You really are somethin’ else,” he sighed and shook his head, not sure what to say to your words. “But I don't wanna forget yesterday, I just… I want to go back to our world and have it fixed. Then maybe… maybe I'd be worth your love for me.” He didn't look at you, his eyes stared out the window, the bottle still in hand. 

You sighed and stepped closer, your hand now resting gently on the back of his shoulder. “Logan, I–”

“Thor!” Wade gasped suddenly, pulling you both out of your conversation. He looked around in confusion and stared over at you both. “Oh, well lookie here, if it isn't the lovebirds.” 

You groaned at Wade and shook your head. “Don't start,” you warned. 

“Oh no, I'm not starting anything, I swear! Just wondering why it smelled a lot like sweat, bodily fluids, and regret in the back of that car,” he said, his tone chipper, knowing very well what happened in the back of that damn car. 

Logan turned toward him and glared at Wade but said nothing, you, on the other hand, let out an annoyed groan. “How about figuring out where we are instead of grilling me about what happened in the Honda?” You asked with a sharp tone. 

“And where’s the fun in that?!” He asked with a laugh that followed. “Come on, I mean, I normally don’t kiss and tell, but you sorta made it quite evident all over those seats. Was he any good, Baby Lee?” You could imagine the face he wore under that mask, the way he stared at you, expecting something out of his question, all you could do was laugh.

“Wade, shut up,” you huffed, but you gave him a face that indicated that Logan was in fact very good, and you hoped Logan didn’t see the face you made.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get all the juicy, wet, intimate details later.” Wade just laughed and looked around, checking the place out. “Well, do we know where we are?” He asked.

“No clue, but I like it here,” Logan replied gruffly as he held up the bottle for Wade to see. 

As soon as Wade was about to speak, there was a commotion coming from across the room as if someone was about to enter. You and Wade ran toward the door and got into a fighting stance, but the woman burst forth and immediately put Wade in his place as she easily flipped him over and held her sai sword to his throat as you backed off, raising your hands in surrender. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Deadpool gasped and held up a hand. He scrambled to his feet and stared at the woman, who seemed to retract her blade from his face, but she kept her eyes on him. She was dangerous, poised, and ready to strike if needed. 

You looked over at her in awe, admiring her, until someone else walked into the room, and the tension only picked up once he laid eyes on you both. His gaze was hidden under a pair of sunglasses, but that didn’t make his stare any less overwhelming. 

Then a small card flew through the air, glowing a hazy purple until a hand reached out and caught it. The man who stepped forward still seemed intimidating, but more boyish in nature, though your body relaxed slightly as it seemed they didn’t mean harm. All three of them stared at the three of you, and you couldn’t help but look back at Logan, who seemed slightly on edge by their presence. He lingered in the back near the rest of the liquor bottles, away from the crowd of people. 

“Okay… Look at you… all. You must be the others. Terrific.” Deadpool was unsure of who these people were, but after hearing about other survivors in the borderlands who worked against Cassandra, he had higher hopes. 

As they went down the line and introduced themselves, you remained in the middle, sticking close to Logan like a protective animal while you kept your attention to the new people ahead. Deadpool did a lot of the questioning, but whenever they spoke of taking on Cassandra, Logan always had something to say, and he would have rather spent his time wallowing away in here, surrounded by the booze. 

“You know, we never had a Wolverine up in here,” the card dealer called Gambit stated. But I can tell you now, it’s just a common courtesy to ask before you drink up all of my liquor.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t give a fuck,” Logan replied and slowly lifted the bottle toward his lips. 

Before you could say anything to scold him in any way, Gambit chuckled to himself and with a quick snap of his wrist, threw one of the playing cards directly into the glass, causing the bottle to shatter. You took a step toward Logan, knowing he could have gotten angry if he let it get to him, but he tossed the broken bottle neck aside and grabbed another full bottle.

“Boo boo boo,” he said in a sing-song voice, smiling like the cocky son of a bitch he was.  

“Look, now that that’s settled, we came a long way to find you three-” Deadpool started.

“There’s four of us,” Elektra corrected. 

“Wait, is it Magneto?” Deadpool gasped, hoping and praying it was one of the strongest X-Men. “Dear sweet God in heaven, let it be Magneto, because with him-” Wade pressed his hands into a prayer and sighed. 

“He’s dead,” Blade said, completely deadpan.

“Fuck! Well, uh, who brought us here?” Deadpool asked, feeling a little more hopeless than three seconds ago.

A voice came from behind them all. “That would be me.” A slender figure came from the shadows of the staircase and descended, walking into the room, everyone was insanely quiet as she revealed herself. “Don’t make me regret it.”

Your eyes watched her, and you felt something familiar looking into her eyes. Deadpool, on the other hand, seemed almost speechless.

“Holy shit, Logan, that’s her, that’s X-23. She’s the one I told you about.”

You were there for that uncomfortable conversation yesterday, hearing how the Logan from Wade’s universe had sacrificed himself for this child, who they presumed to be his daughter, her genes taken from his DNA. Made in a lab. Experimented on. Like the other mutants you’d known, she wasn’t safe. But Logan had saved her and many other kids who grew up in that lab, giving them a fighting chance as he sacrificed himself, finally being granted the peace he probably wanted in that universe. 

The thought of it made your heart ache, imagining the scene unfolding, but you looked back at Logan and saw the conflict in his eyes, the intense look they both shared. You looked between the two and felt something you couldn’t quite place. 

The rest of the group began to talk about how they could get out of the Void and back home, all while you, X-23, and Logan had somewhat circled around one another, sticking to the back of the room. You looked at her and saw just how much of Logan was in her, it was almost a spitting image, and your stomach twisted.

Your attention was taken back by the group talking about getting through to Cassandra, and they wanted to get the ending they deserved, they would fight for the freedom they deserved. Deadpool had somehow convinced them to fight through Cassandra’s defenses, get to Juggernaut’s helmet, and get her to send them back. Deadpool laughed happily and looked back toward the three of you. 

“X-23, what’s it gonna be?!”

“The name’s Laura. Let’s fucking go.”

Deadpool clenched his fists together with glee and repeated: “Let’s fucking go.”

The group had all decided that they’d leave in the morning, whether they wanted your and Logan’s help or not, it was already set for them. They would get what they fought for or die trying. Logan had to commend them, even a little bit, they were brave. Stupid, but brave. As they all scattered a bit to come up with a plan, Laura lingered for a moment and stared at you, then at Logan, and then she walked off with the rest of them. 

When they all walked off, leaving you two alone in the room, Logan grumbled in annoyance and stalked off toward the exit. You called out for him to wait, but he didn’t listen, he was feeling confused and hated the way that Laura looked at him, like she knew him, like she had already formed an opinion about him. If she was smart, she’d stay away, but no one ever really did. All they did was complicate things, and bring him more pain and suffering, so he planned on getting blackout drunk alone.

Logan sat out by the fire as he held onto a bottle of Johnny Walker, his eyes glued to the embers, his mind miles away from everything. You figured since Wade was too busy with everything going on, he was distracted enough to give you enough time to talk to him alone since you’d been interrupted earlier. You took your time and waited to see if anyone would call out for you, thankfully they didn’t need you, so you stood up from one of the chairs near the poolside and walked toward the door as quietly as you could. 

Your steps weren’t muted in the slightest with the leaves crunching beneath your steps, but you stopped and hid behind one of the nearby trees as you saw Laura walking toward Logan already. You didn’t mean to intrude, but you also didn’t want to piss him off and bother him either.

He lifted his head to see Laura and waved his hand dismissively. “Hey, I’m not lookin’ for company. Get out of here.” He grumbled.

Laura laughed. “You remind me of him. Angry, drunk, mean-”

“Sounds like a great guy-” Logan interrupted.

“I wasn’t finished.” She looked back at the fire and stared at it for a moment, collecting her thoughts, and she wasn’t good with sharing them much like he wasn’t. “He showed up when it mattered the most. Couldn’t help it. You might not know it, but you’re a good man, Logan.” Her voice was soft but stern, telling him how she viewed him, no matter the universe, there was that strong belief she had that this Logan was no different.

Logan just chuckled and shook his head. “You might not know it, but apparently I’m the worst Logan.”

“I got to have a life because of you. I got to grow up because of you. A lot of kids did.”

“A lot of kids didn’t grow up because of me,” he retorted, his gaze still set on the fire before him. “Trust me, kid, I’m no hero.”

Laura sighed and looked back over at the man. “That suit says different.”

Logan looked down at the destroyed suit, the one he wore every single day beneath his clothes as a reminder of the pain he’d caused. “Yeah, ya like it? Scott used to beg me to wear it. So did Jean, Storm, Beast. All of ‘em. Wanted me to be part of the team. Told them they all looked fuckin’ ridiculous.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped slightly. “I couldn’t have them thinkin’ I wanted to be there. Then one day, I was off on my own, then the humans came and went mutant hunting.” His expression dropped, there was no longer sarcasm or disdain, but pain and sorrow.

“I can guess the rest,” Laura said softly.

You still stood behind the tree and listened closely to what Logan was saying, finally realizing that he was acknowledging what happened to you both, the losses you both took. You slowed your breathing so you could hear him properly, afraid that if you’d done anything to cause a distraction, you would never get to hear this again.

“No, no. Let… let me say it, I n- I need to say it.” Logan’s voice began to break, his eyes turned glassy and he felt the sting of tears welling in the corners of his eyes, but he stared ahead and recalled everything. “By the time I stumbled home shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead, every…” He paused, his voice wavering with pain, the dryness in his throat stung as he tried to come to terms with it all.  “This suit’s all I got to remind me of who they were. And what I did. And when I look at Star, it hurts because I see the disappointment, the hurt I caused…”

You tried not to cry too loudly as you leaned your body against the tree, you sighed softly, wiping away the falling tears as you finally heard Logan admit to it all out loud. When you were back home, he avoided talking about it like the plague, but having this young woman here who could very well be his daughter of sorts, looking at him like that, it made him want to open up. And that made you happy. It wasn’t opening up to you, but he was opening up, and that was something beautiful in itself. You let out another small sigh and closed your eyes as you leaned your head against the tree.

Logan sniffled but took another long swig of the drink in his hand and tried to steel himself once again. Laura looked over at him with understanding, she had witnessed pain in her Logan’s life as well, and she understood as well as he would. 

“We’re headed to Cassandra’s at sun up,” she finally said.

“Have fun” Logan huffed. “Not my fight.”

Laura leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees as her gaze was intense. “We won’t pull this off without you.” She stood up in a swift motion and began her walk back to the hideout. 

Logan looked over at her and sighed. “Hey, whoever you think I am, you got the wrong guy.”

The young woman stopped and turned back to look at him, her face still reserved as she saw the shell of a man sitting in front of the fire. “You were always the wrong guy. Till you weren’t.” She turned back and made her way back to the hideout, leaving you and him alone once more. 

You waited for a few moments as he continued to sit by the fire, his eyes still glued to the flames that flickered and licked away at the firewood, and with a deep breath, you barely moved out from your spot when you heard Logan’s voice. 

“You can come sit down,” he said firmly. 

Shit. He knew you were there, this entire time, he knew. And just maybe… he finally confessed all of that to Laura because he knew you were there, you needed to hear it come from him, even if it was indirectly. Logan sat on the large log and continued to listen to your footsteps, he could even hear the sound of your heartbeat quickening as you got closer, but he didn’t say anything about it. 

As you sat down on the log beside him where Laura had been, you didn’t look over toward him yet, you continued to stare off at the fire until you felt it was right to speak, but even then you were unsure. “It wasn’t your fault, you know,” you said softly. “You may have felt as if you’d abandoned us, but, you didn’t. I know things are complicated for you, feelings and emotions, but I know you wouldn’t have let them all die on purpose. And I'm not disappointed in you, if I was, I wouldn't be here.”

Logan looked over at you and sighed, his hand still wrapped around that damned bottle as he just stared. “I heard them screamin’ for me, Star, as the mansion burned to the ground. They all screamed and I hid. I hid because-”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you didn’t cause it, you didn’t allow the humans to come in and do what they did. How would you have known?” You asked, swinging your body to face him, staring with intensity. “How were you supposed to know?”

“I should have known!” He spat in defense. “I should have and I didn’t! I could have, I dunno, sniffed them out and followed my gut instincts when I knew something was off. But instead, I got shit-faced and ignored it. Ignored them and you.” He hung his head, the bottle lowered, and he placed a hand over his face as he tried so desperately to keep the tears in. This wasn’t who he was, he needed to live with this guilt, he needed to live with it every day to ensure he’d never forget.

Your gaze softened as you scooted right next to him, then wrapped an arm around him as you leaned your head on his shoulder. “Logan, you beat yourself up for it but just know, even in the end, they still cared about you. No one thought you were a bad guy, you’re not a bad guy, you’re in pain… and I hate seeing you in pain.” You sighed and closed your eyes, holding onto him with as much strength as you could muster as your hand rubbed comforting circles across his back. 

The edge he always had was breaking, the hardness from the anger he felt daily had been calming down thanks to you, and it was only for a moment that Logan finally allowed himself to sigh heavily as a few tears fell. You wouldn’t comment on it, you’d give him the time he needed to recuperate and pull himself back together like you always had, giving him the support and the space he needed. 

But you couldn’t stop your own tears from falling, ones not out of sadness, but out of acceptance. You heard that Logan confessed aloud how terrible he felt, how conflicted he’d been because of all of this, he wasn’t able to process the tragedy you’d both lived through so easily. It hurt you the most because you had to see the man you loved suffering, blaming himself, and adding more to his trauma. But you wanted to be there, you had to be there for him, to prove he deserved the good with all that bad, and as you’d told him in that car, you would be there every day if you had to to remind him of that. 

“I got you, Logan,” you whispered softly, smiling as your eyes remained closed and your arm tightened around him. “I’m glad I got to live, I’m glad I got to be here for you when no one else could be. And Wade, he doesn’t seem all that bad, either, he’s a lot like you in a way. He wants to help, deep down.” 

Logan scoffed and shook his head, almost offended by the comparison, but he didn’t respond, he just sat back and listened to you, your voice. It grounded him in moments like these now, and he was thankful he had that. After a while, Logan’s arm wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, his side pressed against yours as you both looked at the fire. He allowed himself this personal pleasure as he nuzzled against your hair, your scent making him think of the good days before it was all so fucked up, and it was peaceful. He hadn’t experienced peace in so long. 

“I hope you can forgive me,” he said softly, his lips pressed to your hair as he gently kissed you, his eyes still fixated on the flames. 

“I have nothing you need forgiveness for, Logan,” you replied. 

His arm tightened around you, your face pressed against the fabric of his damaged suit. He relished in the feeling of you in his arms, the way you fit so perfectly against him, the scent of your hair filled his senses as he closed his eyes momentarily. He exhaled as he reached up to slowly stroke your hair, playing with the locks between his fingers. 

“I hope they can forgive me,” he said sadly. “I think about that every day, wondering if they’d see how much it fucked me up, how bad I wanna take it back…”

“Oh, Logan, they wouldn’t blame you, okay? They would never blame you, they cared about you despite how you pushed them away, not wanting to hurt them, and you took care of them till the end. You can’t say it’s your fault when it wasn’t, it was the humans.” 

He sighed again and pulled your head closer, kissing your hair once more. “I know that I hurt you though, I know I hurt them, but I hurt you the most. The one person who I had a chance to show that I was more than what I thought I was, and I fucked it up. I took it all for granted…” He sighed heavily and tried to fight back the negativity, but it was sinking in again, but you caught on.

You sat up, pulling away from his grasp as you placed your hands on either side of his face. “Logan, stop, don’t do that. You were suffering, okay? And I get that, you weren’t used to people being there, treating you like you deserved. That’s why I stayed, I always saw you more than others may have thought. You were in need of someone to be there for you like you were there for others. Like Rogue, like Charles, you were there for them despite feeling you shouldn’t be. Let me be here for you, please, Logan.”

He sighed heavily and tried to accept your words, the emotion behind them tearing away at him, clawing through to the depths as he sat there with you looking at him as if he was the most important thing to ever exist in this timeline, and the next.

“I think we should try to get home,” you said softly as your hand came to rest on his chest. “We should help them get to Cassandra. We can’t run anymore, I’m tired of it, aren’t you?”

“I’m tired too, Star, tired of runnin’,” he mumbled as he placed the bottle down beside the log, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you in tightly. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, feeling the weight of his mind channeling through his embrace. He rested his head on top of yours as he sat there with you in his arms, wishing you both could go back and he could do things differently. His fingers gently massaged your scalp as he held you tight against him, stroking your hair and allowing his fingers to caress your head gently. 

“I know,” he replied gently, his voice low and husky. “You don’t have to.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing your face to his chest, feeling safe in the comfort of his arms as he held onto you, and you let out a small hum of contentment as you felt Logan allowing himself to feel what he wanted to feel instead of what he thought he deserved. “I don’t wanna let you go, Logan,” you whispered softly. 

Logan pulled away to look at you, his gaze locked with yours as he offered a ghost of a smile. He slowly reached out, his fingertips gently traced along your jawline, his touch sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Logan,” you said softly, “should we…?” You trailed off, the feeling of his fingers against your skin taking over your entire mind, causing you to lose your train of thought.

He noticed the way his touch affected you, the way you responded so well to a gesture so simple, it made a smile tug at the corner of his mouth as his eyes were still locked on yours. “I know, I know, but can you blame me? Especially after yesterday?” He asked, his fingertips still tracing your jawline, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. 

“What if they see us?” You asked him, not really believing that would stop either of you at this moment. The tension between you both was palpable, and he didn’t want to lose this feeling. You bit your lip in contemplation, trying to decide if you two would have enough time to get away with anything.  

“I know,” he said huskily, his voice strained with his own internal battle. “But you’re makin’ it damn near impossible to hold back when you’re lookin’ at me like that, princess.” Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he heard your heart beginning to beat faster within your chest, only signaling that you wanted it, too. 

You let out your own sigh and nodded, the blush creeping into your cheeks as your attention was now solely focused on him. “I can’t blame you, I feel the same right now…”

“Then why are we fightin’ this? If we really are gonna go after this bald chick, what if we end up stayin’ here or worse? You think I could forgive myself for not showin’ you just how much I need you?” One of his hands moved to your side, resting gently on your hip until his fingers dug into you. “I can’t fight the hold you got on me, doll. Give in to what we both want,” he murmured, his words a soft plea.

“Logan,” you sighed softly as you leaned in closer, thinking of all the ways you wanted him, all the ways you could show him just how much you loved him. Your eyes stared into his, half-lidded, filled with desire as you fought back to push him down right there.

The way you said his name like that, tinged with raw desire, it was all the encouragement he needed. Logan’s hand on your hip tightened further, and a guttural moan escaped his throat as he closed the remaining distance between you both, pressing his body against yours with a restraining need. He kissed you back with a fervor that surprised even him, his mouth devouring yours as his hands dug into your skin. 

Your breaths were short and fast, wanting nothing more than to taste him, to feel him, wanting to enjoy every moment you had with him before tomorrow. You couldn’t silence the soft groan you released against his lips as your hands reached up and tangled into his shorter hair, pulling on his gently while your tongues battled one another. 

Logan’s chest rumbled with a primal groan as you pulled at his hair, the feeling of your fingers buried in his locks sent a pleasurable shiver down his spine. He deepened the kiss, his tongue invaded your mouth as he claimed it with his own. 

He let out a frustrated growl as his hands gripped your sides, pulling you flush against his body as he made you straddle his waist, spreading your thighs wide open with his large hands. His eyes stared into yours, taking that moment to look deep within yours to make sure this was what you wanted, that he was what you wanted. He’d give you the opportunity to take it back if you wanted, even just that one day with him would have been enough for him to live off of. He leaned in, his lips brushed yours hesitantly. “You really want this?” He asked, checking one more time. 

You nodded in confirmation and pushed your lips against his, kissing him deeply to only signify your answer as his arms wrapped around you to pull you closer. He deepened the kiss between you both, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you moaned against his lips. His hands roamed across your back, settling at your backside as he pressed against you, showing you how hard he already was. He broke the kiss briefly, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his voice hoarse with need. “Need you to take those off,” he instructed. 

You pulled away and shrugged out of your top, undoing the intricate latches and buttons, making sure each part of the uniform remained intact as you tossed it aside as Logan worked quickly on his. You were both impatient and wanted nothing more than to tear at each other, to feel each other in that closeness once more, feeling his hands and mouth on you in ways you’d only dreamed of. Once he was back on the log, his pants undone and slightly pulled down to accommodate you, he pulled you back into his lap while your soaked folds rubbed gently against him. Logan hissed through his teeth, his fingers dug into your hips as he encouraged your movements, coating his cock in your sweet juices as you ground your hips against his. 

“Yes, just like that,” he grumbled, his head leaned back with his eyes closed. 

You continued to rub yourself against him, slowly and gently pushing against him, almost having him slip inside of you to only then pull away. He was dripping with pre-cum as he twitched with every lost touch, he needed you and did not like how long he had to wait. 

His eyes rolled back and he let out a guttural groan as he felt the warmth of your wetness rubbing against him. “Fuck, I need you, no more teasin’,” he demanded, his voice strained as his fingers dug into the flesh of your hips. “Please, sit on me.”

The moan you released was almost feral as you lifted your hips, slowly sliding down onto his cock, which caused you to groan out his name a little louder than intended. He was impatient and thrust deep inside of you, his hands slamming you down onto him. “Oh fuck, Logan, you’re gonna ruin me…”

His grip never loosened as he guided you up and down on his thick length. “Good, that’s the plan. Wanna ruin you for anyone else,” he growled possessively, his eyes locked onto yours. His pace quickened as he slammed you down onto him again and again, and it was funny that you thought you had any control here. 

Your body slumped forward as he wrapped his arms tightly around you, pulling your body against his, your hands and breasts pressed tautly against his chest as you leaned your head against his shoulder. His hips fucked up into you, pulling out those sweet sounds he heard from you yesterday, smiling like a cocky bastard with every gasp and whine you released. He went on like this for ages, dragging it out, slowing his pace when he saw you were getting too lost in the moment, and he laughed at your faces when you got upset with his teasing.

After a while, he pulled you into a heated kiss, groaning against your lips as he playfully bit your bottom lip, swiping his tongue against yours as his hips continued to piston up into yours. You were soaked, his thighs covered in your slick as he felt his abdomen tightening. 

“Please, Logan- Coming soon!” You managed to say between each slap, his hips relentlessly pounding into you. 

“Look at me, wanna see your face.” 

You snapped your head up, your gaze locked onto him as you tried your best not to break the stare, but it was difficult to hold on when he was pounding into you mercilessly. His low grunts and growls mixed with your gasps and whines only made everything so much sweeter. His face contorted in pleasure as his thrusts became erratic as he buried himself deep and growled as he released. His entire body stiffened for a moment as he finally chased his release, filling you up as your walls milked every last drop. “Fuck,” he growled as he leaned his forehead against your shoulder. “

You continued to ride him until you had finally chased your release shortly after his, and your cries died down to soft moans as your hips gently slowed to a gentle grind, smiling as you nuzzled your face against his. You hummed softly and closed your eyes, cuddling on his chest as you both took a few moments to rest. 

“You okay?” he asked after a few moments, his eyes slightly opened to look at you. 

A smile spread across your face and you nodded. “Better than okay,” you sighed in reply. “You?”

He grinned and pressed a kiss against your forehead. “Also better than okay. Not ready to pull out yet,” he mumbled and shifted his hips upward once, causing you to moan softly at the feeling. 

“No one said you had to,” you replied with a smile, hugging him as you rested against him. 

Logan’s eyes opened and he looked down at your mess of hair. “Weren’t you just worried about them seein’ us?” He asked, teasing you now.

You scoffed and smiled as your eyes remained closed. “I think the only one I’m worried about is Wade,” you grumbled and shifted a little, pushing yourself off of him to look into his eyes. Your smile only grew as you reached up to cup his cheek, feeling that overwhelming sense of comfort wash over you. He was allowing himself to feel for you, he was slowly tearing down that wall, and he was becoming Logan again. “Are you gonna come with us tomorrow?” you asked in a whisper.

His face peeked up at yours, his eyes filled with uncertainty while he rubbed comforting circles against your back. “Look, I dunno, I mean, it’s not somethin’ I should be involved in…”

You sighed and rested your head against his shoulder. “Laura is right, you know. You are a good man, you’ll come through.”

Logan sighed and sat back with you wrapped in his arms, his softened length still buried inside of you, and here you were talking about all this complicated emotional shit. He looked past you, over your head at the building where the rest of them were, thinking of your words and Laura’s. If this was to happen, if he were to do this and fight alongside them, alongside you, then maybe he was worthy of wearing the suit. Logan leaned in, kissed the side of your head, and sighed again. “We’ll see,” he replied gently. “But first, I think I wanna have more of you.” He pulled back further to look down at you, smiling as you met his gaze. “Get up, put your hands on the car, princess.”

Your eyes widened as you pulled back to look at him. “On the car, huh?” You asked with a playful tone.

“Don't question me,” he said with a smile, bringing his hand down on your backside, and giving you a small slap. “Up.”

You huffed and slowly pulled off of him, smiling as you both stared at each other while you stood over him. Then, you made your way to the hood of the car, standing with your legs spread apart and hands splayed on the hood. You looked over your shoulder at him as he approached, half of his suit hanging off him. He stopped behind you, slowly pumping himself in his hand as he looked at your body. All of the curves, the dips, the way you reacted just for him, it drove him crazy. The fact he'd been missing out on this for so long had made him feel foolish, how could he have looked past this the entire time? 

Logan growled appreciatively at the sight of you bent over the Honda, your back arched and your hair hung over your face as you looked over at him. He ran his hands over your rear, squeezing gently before he parted your cheeks to reveal your back entrance and your dripping wet core. "So beautiful..."

"Mhm and all yours, Wolvie, now come on, don't make me wait, I need you." You hummed seductively, looking over your shoulder at him, your legs shaking with excitement. 

Logan's eyes met yours, filled with primal possession. "All mine..." He growled possessively. He lined himself up with your opening and slowly pushed inside, his hands gripping your hips for leverage while he took his time, gradually pushing deeper and deeper until he was fully sheathed inside you. He started to move, pulling out slowly before slamming back inside you with a grunt. He set a brutal pace, pounding into you from behind with powerful thrusts while his hands never left your hips, holding you in place as he took you hard and fast. 

"Fuck, you're so tight... so fucking perfect..." Logan's grip on your hips tightened as he increased his pace, his movements became jerky and uncoordinated. “Tell me you’re gonna come, princess,” he gritted out, his voice strained with passion as he reached between you both and began to play with your clit. 

You could barely contain your cries and moans of pleasure, you were no longer afraid of being found out, you were too lost in the pleasure of it all. Your body shook and reacted so well to his touch, it was as if he’d navigated your body so well over the years that he knew which of your buttons to push. It was impressive, he had studied you, it seemed. Your head turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes lust-filled and hooded as you tried your best to speak between each hard thrust. “Logan, gonna come soon-” you cautioned. 

Logan let out a feral growl and buried his face in the back of your neck, his arms wrapped tightly around your middle to hold you even closer as he rutted against your ass. He continued his assault as his hips bucked wildly, nearing his edge as he made sure you were close behind. “C’mon, pretty girl, I know you can give me another one,” he hummed against your neck, kissing it as one arm still clung around your middle, and the other played with your clit, already clenching against him. 

You couldn’t hold on anymore while his large fingers rubbed you so well, or the way he fucked into you as if his life depended on it, you came undone within moments. With a final few thrusts, Logan buried himself to the hilt and found his release, yours chasing soon after as he spilled himself inside of you, and growled low against your neck. His body convulsed with the aftershocks, his hips slowly ground against your ass as his arms tightly wound around your middle again. Your breathing was heavy, and your body was warm thanks to him, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

Logan collapsed onto your back, his body heavy and languid as he nuzzled into your neck, still holding the majority of his weight so as not to crush you. His arms released your waist as he slowly withdrew from your body, allowing you a moment to adjust. You stood up and tried to regain your balance, your hand gripped onto Logan’s arm, smiling as he helped steady you until you were well off on your feet. 

Something inside of him awoken as he looked down at you, covered in sweat, smelled of smoke and his scent, looking up at him like you were… He was a fool, but you accepted him, every part of him, he was your fool. “Sorry, I’ve been so fuckin’ blind, Star,” he mumbled as he pulled you against him, wrapping his large arms around you as he placed a kiss on your forehead. This was the softest he’d ever been, he didn’t want any of the others to see, but you were worth getting caught for. Logan sighed and stood there with your face buried against his chest. 

“So, you coming with us?” You asked once more, your voice soft, and vulnerable, but you wanted to have him there with you.

“Don’t push it,” he warned, a playful edge to his tone. “C’mon, we gotta get you cleaned up.”

“So does that mean you’re coming back inside?” you asked with a smile. 

Logan shook his head and looked back at the car. “Think I’ll sleep out here for some peace and quiet.”

“Could I join you, then?”

How could he deny you? He smiled and nodded once, rolling his shoulders. “Since you asked so nicely,” he replied and kissed your head again, then walked over to hand you the top half of your outfit. He helped you get back into it and smiled down at you when he zipped up the front half, his hand lingering on you a little longer than usual, his eyes stared down and traced over your features, he just couldn’t believe he had reasons to look elsewhere when you were right here.

“What?” You finally asked with a smile on your lips, staring up at him curiously.

Logan just hummed and shook his head. “Nothin’, c’mon, let’s go and clean up.”

You turned from him first to walk back to the hideout, but you peeked over your shoulder at him, smiling wider as you held out your hand for him, waiting for him to take it. As he stared at you, thinking of all the things that he should have done, the look you gave him had wanted him to think about the future. To fight for a future if you were in it. So he slid his hand in yours, gripped it tight, and gave a gentle squeeze as he trailed along beside you as you both made your way inside as quietly as possible. 

The battle was exhaustive, you had fought alongside your new friends, making sure they were safe enough to get the package to them, and then you followed behind Wade and Logan to confront Cassandra. Wade was knocked out on the side of the room as Logan was stuck on all fours, Cassandra sticking her weird hate-filled fingers inside of Logan’s mind. His yells and guttural screams of torment caused you to panic until the bag flew into Wade’s hand as Laura disappeared from the window. 

You were frozen as you heard his yells, the echoes of the screams you heard from your friends as they pleaded for their lives, you felt the guilt Logan carried with him as you watched the scene unfolding, but the call from Wade snapped you out of your daze.

“Baby Lee, here!” He groaned as he slid the bag toward you, the heavy metal helmet hitting the side of your foot. 

You bent down and snatched it from the bag, then you ran up behind Cassandra as you plopped the large helmet over her head while Wade scrambled to your side, recovered from being knocked out, and held onto her tightly. You stood close by to ensure she remained in his grasp, and boy did she scream when she was pulled out of her little mind games. The large, dark veins within her skin pulsated, her eyes glazed over and turned red as she screamed. 

“You’re gonna send us home, or I’m gonna twist your fuckin’ head off!” Deadpool threatened, his arms wrapped around her as he also held the helmet in place. 

Cassandra just laughed. “I can’t send you home unless you get this thing off my head… And as soon as you do that, I’m going to boil your brains on an atomic level… Either you kill me or I kill you, both wonderful options.” She said as she patted Wade’s arm.

The boys began to argue back and forth on who would end up killing the woman, but after a moment of back and forth, as you stood by and grumbled at their theatrics, Pyro came in and shot Cassandra four times in the stomach, bringing her closer to death than the other two actually did. After Logan punched his lights out, the blood poured from her mouth and she stared up at Logan in shock as he looked at Wade.

“Hey, hey, if I take this helmet off, do you promise not to kill us?”

“I promise I’ll kill you first thing!” She gasped and looked at you and Logan, smiling as the blood dripped from her mouth. 

Logan sighed, looked at them, and demanded that he take the helmet off to the point where he yelled at Wade, demanding once again to remove it. “I am wearing this suit and that means a lot of things, but most of all, I’m an X-Man. And I know your brother. As much as I wanna kill you, every bone in my body wants to FUCKING kill you, he would not let me stand here and watch you die!”

He placed his hands on the helmet and sighed. “This is for him, this is for Charles.”

He appealed to Cassandra, speaking of Charles as you stood off to the side, your expression filled with sadness, hearing about the professor again, feeling that heartbreak again. You felt bad for the woman before you, you wished she could have had that love she craved, but you just wanted to get all three of you home and back to your worlds.

As Cassandra spared you all, she gave you a head start of four seconds to jump through the portal back to New York, and all three of you ran. You wished the best for your friends as they watched you from below, but you could feel the excitement pumping as you ran and took off, flying through the air beside Logan. 

Maybe you all had a shot at being happy again, this time, together.

You went for the last slice of pizza at the same time Wade did, and you both stared each other down as your hands rested on the box. It had been a few weeks while you and Logan lived with Wade and his roommate Althea, you and Logan still waiting on an application for your own place to go through. Al didn’t seem to mind and neither did Wade, in fact, he preferred if you two stayed, but you needed your own space. Besides, sharing beds wasn’t exactly what you’d call fun with a blind woman who snored like a chainsaw going off in a construction zone, and an ADHD-riddled bigmouth who seemed to talk in his sleep. So for now, you all shared your dinner nights together at the table, and you and Wade were having an intense stare-down.

“You know, Baby Lee, I should get the last piece because I ended up having to do the dishes because someone couldn’t keep it in their pants,” Wade began his argument, smiling with a raised eyebrow.

You stared at him deadpan and continued to hold your ground. “Then what about last week when I had to do them because someone ended up putting his suit in the washing machine and fucking up the whites in the load, so I had to fix everything?”

“Well, now that’s just not fair-”

“Wade, give her the damn slice,” Logan grumbled as he chugged a cold beer, glaring over at the merc. 

“Oh, now that’s just favoritism!” He retorted.  

You smirked as you leaned slightly against Logan, showing him you appreciated the backup, but your eyes never left Wade’s. “Yeah, Wade, give me the slice,” you said sarcastically. 

What you both didn’t seem to realize as you bickered, Blind Al had snatched the slice and ate it herself, giving a small bite of it to Dogpool, who sat eagerly on Al’s lap. You two didn’t seem to mind much as Logan chuckled to himself, looking over at Al as she chewed away at the cheesy goodness while your argument grew more competitive by the minute. 

By the time you figured it out, you looked over at Logan with a pout and back at Wade. “This is your fault,” you grumbled.

“My fault?! Look here, missy-” Wade huffed and threw an empty solo cup at you.

You gasped and looked at him with a shocked expression, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners. “Oh that’s it, Wilson, you’re dead!” You laughed and launched toward him as he bolted away from you. 

Dogpool made some silly yapping noises as Logan sighed and shook his head, finishing his beer, watching as the life in your eyes came back, it had been steadily returning since your first time with Logan. He noticed the little things that changed in you, and you noticed the changes in him, too. He sat back with a smile as you and Wade fought like children, sort of enjoying the life that surrounded him now, appreciating the ways he and Wade were alike, the way you took care of them both, and just happy with the fact that Logan had felt as if he’d found peace.

That night, you were snuggled against him as you always were, head resting against his chest as you clung to him, but he’d been awake just looking at you. He would stare down at you, brush your loose hairs away from your face as he saw just how peaceful you’d looked, the way you could sleep without having to worry or remain on edge. He felt the same too, he felt safe now, and with you here, there wasn’t anything in the way to stop him. With you here in his arms, he felt that all was right, he’d gotten the ending he wanted, and he felt that your friends would have wanted him to be happy in some capacity. 

You stirred slightly, blinking slowly as you stared up at Logan, meeting his eyes. “Couldn’t sleep?” you asked softly.

His smile grew slightly and the corner of his mouth twitched. “No, I just was thinkin’ is all.”

You hummed in response and readjusted your body, looking up at him comfortably while you pulled the blanket up under your chin. “About what?”

“About how happy I am.”

“Happy, huh?” 

He chuckled and nodded, pulling you closer against his chest as his large arm wrapped around your back, his chin resting gently on your head. “As much as I thought this wasn’t possible like I wasn’t allowed to feel happy while the others… well, you know. But, I think it’s okay, this is okay…”

You smiled and closed your eyes, listening to his steady heartbeat as you placed your hand against his chest. “Everything is gonna be okay, Logan. I know it is because you’re here, and Wade is here for us, too.” 

He scoffed and nuzzled against your hair, closing his eyes, and smiling as he inhaled your scent, the inviting smell of you mingling with his own. As he lay there with you in his arms on the air mattress, he thought that you were right about it despite him not wanting to admit it, everything would work out in the end. It had so far, all thanks to Wade fuckin’ Wilson. 

“That’s good enough for me,” Logan mumbled softly. 

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

Duke meets Harold

Duke is in the bat cave like normal it’s a normal day, he’s usually not in the batcave during the day. But it’s quiet and he needs to look up something. All of a sudden he hears a noise and it’s coming from the bat mobile.

Duke: who- whose there?

the clanking and clanging of tools alerts duke to their position.

Duke: I SWEAR if it’s you joker I will BASH your head in with a crowbar

all of a sudden a short hunched man appears from behind the Batmobile.

Harold: *waves*

Duke: WHO ARE YOU

Harold: *shrug*

Duke: are- are you supposed to be here?? WHO ARE YOU???

Harold: *nods*

Duke: *thinks for a moment* wait can you talk?

Harold: *shakes his head no*

Duke: damn, wait you don’t have a AAC or something?

Harold: *shakes his head no*

Duke: I don’t think you’re a criminal or anything but we are going to go out and grab a AAC, it’s not fair for you man,

Then duke and Harold go out on the town to go find a AAC device after a few stops and a lot of calls later Duke and Harold return home and all the while Harold's been testing out the AAC.

Harold: *presses some buttons on the AAC and a computerised voice starts playing* Hi I am Harold

Duke: nice to meet you Harold your getting a hang of that quick!

Harold: I have never heard of these

Duke: yeah they weren’t really a thing for a while, but technology and stuff got way better and more people were able to use them!

Harold: *presses buttons* Bruce and The family are really nice to me, but I did not think I would ever have a voice

Duke: I mean? Not many people do sometimes, also YOU KNOW BRUCE???

Harold: he took me in so I didn’t have to go back to the asylums

Duke: wait people were putting you in an an asylum???

Harold: many people like me get put in institutions and asylums, they are not good places.

Duke: wow I am learning things, well it’s nice to meet you formally Harold! Do you want me to drop you off anywhere or do you wanna go home?

Harold: I was in the middle of updating some parts to the Batmobile, and would like to continue.

Duke: sure dude, want any food before we go home? Because we are out already why not?

Harold: would not, but thank you

Duke and Harold make their way back to the bat cave, there Tim is sitting at the bat computer pouring over Case files.

Duke: hi Tim

Harold: hi tim

Tim: HAROLD???

Harold: I have a AAC now, duke got it

Tim: wait what is that?

Duke: dude, you don’t know what a AAC is?

Tim: no what is it?

Duke: it’s a device so that mute people or nonverbal people can communicate without having to speak, uh also why did no one tell me about Harold?

Tim: oh Harold usually sleeps during the night and tinkers in the shed, you never noticed his room?

Duke: uh, no.

Tim: wow no one told you?

Duke: yeah no.

Harold: I do not blame you, nice to meet you duke

Duke: you too man, wow uh so you really have been here the whole time?

Harold: yes HaHa

Tim: that thing really works wonders

From that moment forward Duke and Harold became good friends, and they started to talk often about all sorts of engineering and technology related things, and Duke would bring Harold cookies and cool things he picked up on his travels and fights.

Prev | current | next

[city-tickles]

Two Tickle Sessions In One Day!

Hi!

It's been a while but I hope you are doing well. I am still on break from posting clips or requests but I wanted to let you know about my recent sessions.

A month ago I was in one of those bad tickle moods. One of those moods where it was all you could think about and the rush of getting tickled or tickling someone was intense. I don't get these moods often and usually when I do, I don't like it because the last couple of times that has happened, I've received bad news about someone I care about, so it also makes me a little anxious when I get that way. Thankfully, it did not happen this time.

I needed to get the mood out but there was no one in the area to session with. Since no one was available, I decided to check out two parties that I have not been to in years. One M/M party and one Female Foot Party.

When it comes to M/M, I am 100% lee and it is something that does not give me much if any arousal. It's just tickling, and I can appreciate it. I'm sure I'd appreciate it more if it could "get me there" but I've seen enough clips and done sessions, and it usually doesn't. I also rarely do M/M because I have to be in a mood for it. This time, I was in a big mood for it, so I decided to go.

I've spoken about the M/M party in the past. Last time I went about 8 years ago, I just wasn't comfortable or ready to be there and it seemed like the owner took umbrage with that when I tried to leave. I figured a lot of time has passed and I have gained more experience, so hopefully things would be fine. I explain why I wanted to go to the party, and I was allowed to go.

I entered the party, and as a cis-identifying male, it's a little overwhelming at first. Action (Everyone is clothed) is everywhere right in front of you, but everyone is also very nice and doing their thing. I like to give people space, but there was no space to go, so I was just watching everything go down lol.

While waiting, I was introduced to a guy, who had grey hair and , who was also into tickling and we began talking. At first, the convo was small talk, but then we realized we knew each other from a previous meeting, which made things easier. After some talking, he asked what I was here for and when it comes to males, I am strictly a lee, so I told him I wanted to be tickled. Luckily, a massage table opened up and was cleaned off and ready to be used. We asked the table owner, who was a tall, slender man with grey hair and facial hair, if we could use it. Lucky or not lucky for me, we were allowed but the table owner was also into tickling. They asked me if he could join in and I figured why not?

I laid on the table and decided not to be bound because sometimes I stay still anyway. And before I know it, I have two lers all over me, testing out my spots and trying to find where I am most ticklish. They would glide their fingers all over my sides, under my arms, my tummy, my thighs and of course, my feet while I laughed and didn't move around too much. It was extra sensitive because 1. With the massage chair, I'm mostly looking upwards and can only see the ceiling. And 2. I'm getting teasing from all angles! The two very skilled lers keep saying things like, "Oh, he's real ticklish!" "I think he likes it!" While others at the party are watching and saying things like, "I think he doesn't want it to stop" and "He's having a lot of fun now"

With two lers on me, I never had time to have one spot make me off the wall ticklish because it was always changing. Sometimes it was their fingers lightly tickling my stomach that was the most intense. Other times, it was harder touches on my feet by one of the lers. Sometimes it was an attack under my arms. There were a lot of different moments during the 20-30 minutes of tickling that just kept making me laugh hysterically. I do know at one point, a hairbrush was used because I felt it and that always felt more surprising than ticklish. The other interesting part about having two lers on your feet were both styles were different. One was lighter and the other was harder, but both were effective!

(I couldn't find a MM/M gif)

After my time was done, I thanked them for the session and decided to wrap up since the party was coming to an end anyway. It was time to go to the next party.

This party, which I also had low hopes for, runs all the time in NYC and it is pay-to-play. I was that down bad, that I was willing to do it this evening lol. I went in with very low expectations and the reminder that if the first few moments are bad, I can just leave.

When I got there, it took forever for them to let me in, which already set my expectations to low. Despite this, I walked in and heard laughter already. Someone was getting tickled under the sheets, so I knew I wasn't the only tickler in the area. The girls that I saw in there were nice and chill to talk to for the most part. Some were more personable, while others just wanted to make their money, which I am not upset about. They're not there to be my friend.

The first lee was a tiny girl with red hair, and was ticklish but not that reactionary. I don't think she was ticklish on her feet at all, but I would always ask if it's okay to tickle elsewhere. Thankfully it was, and her upperbody, especially her arms, were her weakspot. She did not seem into it in the slightest, so I tried not to overdo it.

The second lee was this tall, black girl, with long hair and very nice to talk to. She wasn't sure how ticklish she could be, so I would tested some of her spots. Her feet were tolerable, her knees were very sensitive, and under her arms, she was almost unable to do!

I brought some tools that I didn't bring out at the M/M party (my bag at that party was all the way on the other side I just didn't want to bother with it) I ran an ostrich feather up and down her soles and her legs, which felt more relaxing to her. Then, I brought out TicklingDuck's device vibrating device.

As the device touched her soles, she would laugh hard, squirm around, cover her mouth, and was genuinely shocked at something being so ticklish on her. I asked if I could use the device on her knees and she went "Oh no!" and let me do it anyway, which I didn't do for long because she couldn't handle it.

The third lee was another redhead, who was also a nice person to talk to and wearing boots and long socks. I tickled her through the socks first, which made her giggle a bit, before taking them off and scribbling on her toes and soles so more. Her feet were also moderately ticklish, so I asked if I could tickle other parts of her body. Her weakspot was the ribcage and made any other spot look like a 1 compared to them! I spent most of my time on her feet since the ribcage was so intense, but we did play a few games. I would tell her if she could let me tickle there for 10 seconds, she would get a reward, which would be a foot massage or other foot worship. She agreed and barely opened up her arms until I scribbled in there and teased her further, saying "You gotta let me get in there or I'm gonna increase the time" She opened up her ribs and it was the longest 10 seconds of her life. Afterwards, I would congratulate her for making it through and doing such a good job.

After we were finished, I was ready to go since I had an obligation to get to later in the evening, but another taller woman approached me and asked me if I like tickling. She mentioned that she liked tickling to and wanted to know if I wanted to session. I was skeptical at first, because it felt like a money-grab, but I figured I'm already here so why not?

Best decision I made at that party. I started by spider tickling all the way up from her feet to legs, to her sides, across her tummy, back to her ribs, and of course under her arms. This woman was genuinely ticklish everywhere and was a lot of fun to play with. I would caress her thighs and tease like I'm about to tickle there, only to sneak attack and tickle her tummy. I brought out the TicklingDuck device again and we played another counting game to see how long she could last without moving, and I made sure to count the longest 30 seconds I could, running my fingers all across her tummy and under hear arms while she laughed her head off underneath the covers. The last thing I did to her, was bring out the pair of stocks that just arrived. I was itching to try them on someone and she was so excited to see stocks. We locked her bare feet and the stocks and I ran my fingers all across her soles and under her toes, while she was unable to get away or pull them out. While these sessions lasted 10 minutes, this one was definitely longer and we both knew it. After she was done, she complimented my ler skills, saying most male lers are rough, but I was very gentle with her, but also devastating, which I took as a big compliment.

Before I left, I had one request for her. I had a hard time locking the stocks on myself at my home, but when I did, they were not very comfortable. I asked if she could test the stocks out on me to see how good they were. She obliged and got my feet in the stocks. Once I was locked in, she began running her nails across my soles, which was one of the more intense tickles I got all night! I laughed hard and and was unable to do anything else, my feet were trapped and that definitely made the tickling worse! She would tease me and say things like "Aww! Is someone ticklish?" And "Now who's ticklish" until I had to stop her because I really had to get going. I thanked her for the fun time and planned to come back in the future.

Overall, it was a great day of tickles and satisfied my ler and lee moods!

[muwapsturniolo]

Hockey!matt

First post in the AU!

MATT STURNIOLO: PASSIONATE OR A HOT HEAD?

"Matthew Bernard Sturniolo, a 24-year-old triplet native to Boston Massachusetts. According to his parents, from a young age he and his youngest brother Christopher Owen Sturniolo, were always interested in sports. Seeing this, the parents decided to throw the boys in any sport they could. They started off playing for their town's soccer team, a typical thing for most kids to do. However, it seemed as if the sport wasn't enough for a young Matthew. It was too easy, he cleared all the other kids without even trying. Seeing this, his parents threw him into another sport, lacrosse. Now this held Matthew over for a long time until it became boring, he needed something more.

That's when hockey came into play, a sport most boys in Boston find solace in during the cold months. The sport seemed to be Matt's calling, the ice feeling like a second home. His talent was natural, something most people couldn't obtain no matter how much they trained. He ended up loving the sport so much, he made it his full-time career.

At age 17, he graduated high school alongside his two brothers and their childhood best friend. All four boys managed to get full-ride scholarships to Boston University, a school that had many NCAA wins, and has sent many players to the NHL. Matt took control of the Terriers by force, quickly becoming the captain when only being a freshman. Many of his former teammates and coaches had good things to say about him, but something stood out to me. That something was his anger.

"He was a hothead, always shouting and yelling at us during practice"

"There were a couple of times where he broke his stick and punched a locker after losing a game"

"I remember he argued with our coach one day. The argument was so bad, both of them just ripping into each other. It escalated so quick, one second they were shouting and the next Matt was throwing punches."

All of these are quotes by old teammates who would like to stay anonymous.

It was an evident pattern that managed to follow him to where he is now, the lucky star of the Boston Bruins. I had the specialty of sitting in on some of the practices, seeing how the men work with each other. Just like I expected, Matt was a force to be reckoned with. He yelled and berated some of his teammates, even going as far as getting into an argument with his own brother. It's hard to tell if it's just him being driven by passion, or if he simply has anger issues. I chose to go with the latter considering what I saw during the first game of the preseason.

The Bruins were losing against the New York Rangers, not that the score mattered. The preseason is mainly for the coaches to evaluate their team and see who fits where. So why was Matt Sturniolo causing fights, yelling at refs, and being an overall hothead? He resembled the Hulk, the brute green giant who was also a hothead when angry. It seems as if no matter the situation, training, preseason, or the actual NHL season, he was locked in and out for blood.

He's passionate about the sport, perhaps too passionate. Would it be his downfall? Would the Bruins let him go and leave him to reminisce about his glory days while he rots? We will have to tune in to this year's NHL season to find out."

Y/n Y/L * october 3rd, 2024

AHHHHHH A NEW TROPE/AU!!!!! I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY THIS! IF THIS IS CONFSUING IM SORRY! I TRIED TO MAKE THIS INTRO THE ARTICLE READER (AKA YOU) WROTE ABOUT MATT WHICH JUST SO HAPPENS TO BE HOW YALL MEET! I HOPE THIS GIVES A GOOD BACKGROUND! I PLAN ON DOING FICS FOR THIS AU BUT IM ALSO WILLING TO DO BLURBS JUST HOW I DID FOR BUNNY!READER!!!

LET ME KNOW WHAT YALL THINK!!

[snapeaddict]

A teacher's trick

For @mmad-lover <3

"I must say, I was quite surprised. The level of precision was that of a third-year; and it was brewed by an average student at best, Miss Ladislaw. Clearly, the discussion we had two weeks ago made a lasting impression. The girl has potential, and it pains me to admit it as I usually have a keen nose for those students with probable skills - I shall keep a close eye on her."

Minerva smirked slightly, although her expression also had something of that motherly fondness one finds in older people's faces as they listen to naive statements from their younger counterparts. That particular smile did not last long, however. She knew Severus would not appreciate what he would qualify as a "patronising attitude" - or what was it that he had said last time? - "ageist condescension". She had not taken it well; then Albus had looked at her with the very same expression, and told her she should know better than to lecture someone who was no longer a student. His amused eyes above the half-moon glasses, the slightly raised eyebrows... yes, Severus might have had a point after all. He was 24 already...

"And what is it that you told Miss Ladislaw two weeks ago?" she asked, her tone as neutral as could be.  

The Potions Master slightly shrugged his shoulders.  

"Merely that I thought she could achieve a satisfactory grade if she applied herself, and that her needing to work harder than some of her classmates for the same results should not hinder her from trying."

Minerva smiled again, then immediately took a sip from her teacup to hide it, pursing her lips.  

"Well, it makes perfect sense." She couldn't help herself.

Severus raised an eyebrow.  

"You told the girl you believed she could do well. You might as well have given that kind of student a bottle of Felix Felicis - it yields the same results."

"We are talking about a student who successfully brewed a Wiggenweld potion, not a Draught of Living Death."

"You understand my meaning."

Severus sighed, although he bowed his head slightly.

"We cannot go about telling every student such things hoping it will be a self-fulfilling prophecy. I would not have said it to half of them. If I had, it would not have been more than a white lie. All I can do is make sure they pass - I am no miracle worker."

"Oh, I don't know. It seems to be exactly what those new educative methods are about... you know, from the last board meeting. I thought..." She stared at him, then looked away, lowering her eyes. "I thought I could certainly incorporate some of them into my teaching. Be a bit more mindful. I am rather old-school, I'm afraid."

Severus kept looking at her. Then he simply replied, well after she had averted her gaze:

"We cannot be parents, Professor."

Minerva wondered if his momentary defeated expression had more to do with the immensity of the task at hand - to work at Hogwarts, one had better not gauge the assignment too closely - or with his own mixed feelings towards teaching. She thought it a little paradoxical how unforgiving he was with regard to academics, while he would go out of his way to try and fix things he could never fix, like broken homes and intra-student hierarchy. He was, it had to be said, an unforgiving teacher and a surprisingly supportive Head of House; Albus would certainly provide a satisfactory analysis for such behaviour, although a little too Lacanian to her liking.  

She poured him another cup of tea, which he accepted with a slightly embarrassed nod of the head. The friendliness between them was new and ever fragile. In its present state, it was a succession of extended hands quickly taken away when glares of suspicion, or the occasional snide remark, emerged again.

But she was trying, truly. This evening, she had originally planned, was to further their mutually beneficial relationship.

"You should not be so reluctant to make use of that Pygmalion effect, you know, Severus. It did yield great results with you."

He stared at her, looking genuinely surprised.  

"With me?" he repeated, the intonation quite unlike him.  

"If you recall, you were not very fond of Transfiguration as a boy."

"I shall make no comment on the subject."

His voice was rather cold.  

"You need not justify yourself", Minerva replied gently. This time, she held his gaze. "I know you had your reasons, all of them justified."

You did not feel safe, she wanted to add, but she said nothing. As usual, another thought rushed to complete the former - does that justify anything?  

She knew he would never claim that it did; although they had never brushed the subject, Albus had made no indication that the boy made any connection at all between the bullying, and his joining You-Know-Who. No, it was her; she made a connection. She saw a pattern, some kind of single path he was made to follow, perhaps a personal failure. It was in her nature to self-scrutinise when and only when she formed a bound - empathy enabled introspection as readily as dislike blinded her to any conclusions she might have previously drawn.

She was startled when he spoke:

"Not all of them, no."

She looked at him confusedly.  

"I beg your pardon?"  

"Not all my reasons for disliking Transfiguration were sound", Severus elaborated, smirking slightly.

She stared at him for a second. It was as if he had guessed...?  

"It was too much like muggle magic", he continued, purposely ignoring her expression. "Put a poor rabbit in a black hat; it is transformed into a dove. The coin disappears and reappears. You pull out metres of tissue from the magician's pocket. It seemed to me this was all that this was - magic tricks."

This time, Minerva was fully shaken out of her daze. She looked frankly scandalised.

"Magic tricks!" she repeated, her right hand on her heart. "Tricks!"  

Severus seemed to enjoy her half-genuine, half-theatrical display of indignation. He continued, sipping his tea with exaggerated nonchalance:

"I thought it horrendously inelegant. Turning animals into glassware while we brewed potions the colour of the starry sky... While we learnt to bottle things without essence... "

"I beg your pardon, no matter how you put it, it still is soup you are making down there", she cut sharply.

The Slytherin narrowed his eyes. "Now, Professor, you do not want me as your enemy", he said slowly, putting down his cup in the middle of the English porcelain before him.  

"Oh, but I do", Minerva replied in a syrupy tone. She put down her own cup with every bit of nonchalance he had just displayed. "Potions are just large soups. That is, boiling water with things you put inside of it."

"Transfiguration is but a distraction for children at a garden birthday party."

"... While their parents bake the birthday cake by throwing ingredients into a big bowl in the right order, which is what you do, if I am not mistaken."

Severus raised his eyebrows, now looking amused and somewhat surprised. He thought of a few bitting comebacks - some that he would not have shied away from using a few years later - but hesitated for a second. This was, after all, still his former professor...  

"Well, Severus? I am sure you of all people have a witty reply to offer. You are a man of many talents."

This was enough to stimulate a formidable combination of those replies he was pondering upon - something to do with Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration, its first principle, the impossibility of conjuring up food, the birthday cake, screaming children, ethical considerations about vanishing said children, and a muffling draught. He was about to speak; then, Minerva's words reached him fully. "You are a man of many talents."

He closed his mouth, smiled slightly, then nodded, all without a word.  

You are a boy of many talents, Severus. Be sure to remember this next class.  

"Pygmalion effect", Minerva said, leaning back in her seat. She clasped her fingers, smiling pensively. "You did so well that next Monday. You transformed that match into such a beautiful flower - truly the most remarkable one I had ever seen. I brought it to Pomona, I remember. She said it looked like a Lotus, Bleeding Heart, and Edelweiss had been bred together; it did not exist. It was a pure product of your imagination."

Severus frowned, although more from concentration than annoyance.  

"I barely remember".  

"You got an O. I cannot tell you how frustrated I was that you only got an E for your O.W.Ls. The only one! Nine 'Outstandings' in all other subjects!"  

Severus gave her an ironic look.  

"I am sorry to have disappointed".  

She rolled her eyes. "Do not put words into my mouth. Look", she added, getting up and circumventing her armchair, "I even took a picture."

She pulled out a drawer from the nearby buffet, then searched through its content for a few seconds, smoothly retrieving a mid-size, cardboard-like paper which she handed to him. Carefully, Severus lowered it down on his knees.

On the top right corner, in green ink, the words "Mr Snape - 1972" were written in the neat, strict handwriting that he had known since his first year, although usually in red. Somewhat clumsily this time - for whatever reason - he turned the paper over. It was, indeed, a picture: that of the flower he vaguely remembered, but now could study plainly, with its long petals and queer tear-shaped extensions right at their extremities. It looked more alien than beautiful, but that was not what his mind was occupied with. Rather, his black eyes scrutinised the background in the picture, clearly that of Minerva's personal desk, which had not changed much since then. His eyes went from the picture to the desk, dimly lit by a few candles at this time of the evening.  

"I wish it could have lasted longer", Minerva said softly, still standing by his side. She had followed his gaze. "It is one of the tragedies of transfiguration - nothing lasts forever."

For a few moments, Severus could not speak. Minerva put a hand on the back of his armchair, looking at him expectantly.

With difficulty, he gathered himself, and finally cleared his throat.  

"I was merely thinking... thinking that if you were to cast a combination of Epoximise and Orchideous spells, and I to brew an Elixir and Revigorating Draught, all of this put to use at regular intervals - it could potentially keep such a flower intact."

Minerva raised her eyebrows, her interest fully sparked. She turned around, searched through the buffet drawer once more, and placed a match in front of him. Her wand was out.

"Brilliant, Severus. What do you say I perform some tricks, and you bring over some soup, so that I can give you another O?

[pilot-boi]

White Knight Time Travel idea : People are suspecting..

Jaune and Weiss are at the Vytal Festival , each one with their respective teams , their mission has gone..well.. so far. Even without trying to change so much some things never change like Team CVFY and Prof.Port saving the city or Ruby meeting Penny...

But that doesn't matter compared to the titanic work they would have to do during this specific moment..it was now or never

~Weiss Side~

Ruby:WE DID IIIT!!!!....Anyone esle is starving?....

Weiss listened to Ruby and Blake's chat from the side , each time they have this small moments the more she thinks how everyone took Beacon's days from granted

Having to relieve the fight against Team ABRN made her notice how..unprepared they were ; even herself with her "Competent" perfomance wasn't still not enough to face that monster..

Weiss..

The Grimm entering Beacon..

Weiss..

The Witch's inner circle playing right under their noses..

WEISS..

Pyrrha and Penny along many other students being casualties of the..

WEISSS!

Weiss:W-W-What?!

Yang: Your scroll is ringing , shouldn't you answer it?

Weiss noticed her scroll , the contact named "FATHER"..

Right..her time at Beacon was almost up..

Weiss:I will call him later , thanks for making me know Yang..

The Blonde Brawler has noticed her friend weird..this last few day , she can't say why..but it's there , spacing out of chats most of the time or reacting to certain words like Destiny , Maiden or even mentioning locations like Haven Academy can get her all shaky

Right now Ice Queen is looking at her Sis talking with Emerald and her silent friend like she's trying way too hard to keep herself civil , her face may not show it but that tense posture and hands behind shouted something was wrong

And to say the last person she saw acting this way her Dad after..her Supermom left was all she needed to know , Ice Queen's hiding something and she will find out

~Jaune's side~

Jaune did miss Beacon , the academy.. , but coming right back wouldn't make it any better..quite the contrary it shows him how somethings must remain as memories..

The Vytal Festival just started and the mood seems festive enough for him to enjoy a little. Children playing around , teens being themselves truly a moment to breathe fresh air

Miss : Gather around as I tell the story of the Girl who fell through the World!

Jaune tenses hearing that , it's just a woman reading a story to a bunch of kids..nothing dangerous..

Yet..

He takes a look at his armour , clean not rusted..his face is still young and Crocea Mors is still complete..

Ren: Jaune?

Jaune:W-What?!

Nora: You have been standing there for a while , did the story peak your interest? Alyx's story is a classic! The Curious Cat is my favorite character! So mischevious!

If looks could kill , Nora's smile would have been erased a while ago..

Jaune:That Cat is nothing but troubles..

Nora:What? Don't tell me you are a fan of the Red Prince? Or the Rusted Knight?

Sensing hostility , Ren tried to change the topic..

Ren:Why don't we go with Pyrrha? She's saved us a nice spot in that Mistralian restaurant.

Both teammates agree , Nora leaves because she has won another petty argument..but Jaune seemed so personal about it..The Girl who fell through the World is just a Children's story..why is he so defensive about it?

Lie Ren is someone who can read the room quite well and to his knowledge..there's something wrong with Jaune..

He acts like..an adult sometimes , there's nothing wrong with that but it seems off..

Even their stategies , they are a group of Four , Team JNPR..but Jaune always acts like only Nora and him are part of the team

Ren even hears his silent sobs when he has nightmares , the words "Cinder" "Kill" "Penny" "Pyrrha" is all he has as evidence , trying to make sense of said word it would be something like

Cinder will kill Pyrrha and Penny

That sounded so..dumb , Cinder is a student along her team but he would ask Jaune later right now they have a fight to win

👀👀👀

So many of these WK Time travel asks are from their POV, I LOVE this look into their friends’ view

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Can we get more wolverine polycule??? Theyre so cute for her

"Way to go, champ," Wade said, kissing your nose. "Knew you could do it, did it feel good?"

"Yeah," you manage, snuggling into the warmth that's offered. Tomorrow you'll be sore. Tomorrow you'll be limping at work and you'll just tell people you tripped on a rug. But that's not a right now problem. Right now you're sleepy and warm, tangled up with two walls of muscle keeping you pinned to the bed.

Behind you, Logan laughed softly and buried his face in your hair, "You did good, Princess. Do you want Ice?"

" 'm okay, Lo," you murmur. But despite your protests, you find yourself laying half ontop of Wade, your head on his shoulder with Logan'warming lotion in his hands.

"Can't have you miserable tomorrow after you fucked us both stupid today," Wade reasoned, stretching lazily as he met Logan's eyes over your head.

They could go again. Few more times. But. They could do that tomorrow while you were at work- it had been... a while since you'd been able to come play with them like this. The pain made you tense and the tension made you think and the thinking only made it worse. The more tense you were, the more painful it was to even have sex. You'd blow them if they wanted, sure but. They liked this. Their girl in their bed. Satisfied and not just sitting on the sidelines.

Logan worked down your back and hips, smirking when you sighed. "That's it, pretty girl," he coaxed. "Took such good care of us-"

"You did most of the work," you point out.

"Soul-sucking blowjobs are work," Wade put in.

"Did so good you shut Wade up. Fucking miracle worker," Logan snorted, popping your backside affectionately.

When you don't answer, from your spot face down on Wade's chest, he pushes hair out of your face and grins, "Out cold," he said.

"Good," Logan rumbled, kissing the back of your neck and pulling a sheet up over you. "Gonna need her beauty sleep." He laid down on your other side and threw his leg over you, effectively pinning both you and Wade in one place- where he'd know if you got up. Where he'd know you were safe.

"Breakfast in the morning?" Wade asked, stretching.

"Sounds good." It was better now. You smelled right. Like them. Tomorrow's problems were tomorrow's problems. Right now, nothing was wrong. The feel of your bodies were imprinted on him properly and it felt right.

_____________

When mottled arms wrapped around him in the shower, Logan hummed, "Where's Y/N?" he asked.

"Showered, dressed, and fucking baby sitting," Wade whined.

"Babysitting?" Logan growled, "What the-"

"For not fucking liking her her sister is really quick to drop off her fuck trophies at the ass crack of dawn," Wade sulked, thudding his head against Logan's back.

Logan growled, "How'd I not hear-"

"She met them downstairs. Kids slept on the couch for a bit while she hosed off all that sweet sweet-"

"So much for breakfast," Logan grunted.

"Yeah. She took them out already. Guess she figured if she fed and walked them they'd be easier to wrangle. Cute kids. Less bitchy than their mom."

Logan snorted. He'd see about that. He also wondered if their parents knew you were fucking BOTH the men you lived with. You tended to avoid telling your family anything you didn't have to.

By the time they were done fucking around, dressed and out of the bedroom, you were back. And in full 'Cool Auntie' mode. Clearly, this might not have been an expected visit, but it didn't take long for Wade and Logan to notice the near hero worship on the faces of the three boys who were sprawled on the furniture and playing with Mary.

"Listen, Homie," you're telling the oldest, "I got you you first date and I have pictures that can ruin your life, don't test me."

"No you don't," he scoffed.

"Oh, oh honey," you laugh, "I took you to your first comic convention dressed as a tiny baby Hulk-"

He visibly paled and you grinned, "I got pictures that can ruin your mama too. So. Try me if you want to but remember. We existed before Life 360."

"Hey, Shush," the middle kid asked, looking up from his phone, "what was it like when dinosaurs roamed the earth?"

Wade snorted when you mimed throwing a plastic cup at him, "I dunno, Peanut, what was it like?"

"Fuck you, Wade."

[triangle-dog]

TW pet death

(Not one of mine, don't worry. You won't miss anything if you skip this post.)

I will always and forever be a collar and tags person (or, look, if you are really concerned about strangulation then a harness & tags person or a breakaway collar or whatever). Microchips are great, all my beasts are microchiped, but if one of them gets out I want to be able to find them and bring them home no matter what has happened to them.

Two years ago, almost exactly I think, friends and I were three miles into a beautiful autumn hike with the dogs. The leaves were turning, the wildlife was active, and there was a crisp breeze. We rounded a corner and immediately saw a body floating out on the lake, a dog, its long black fur drifting back and forth in the small waves. After some deliberation on what to do, and if it was safe, I waded out to the dog while the others in the party held our dogs way back from the lake in case the water was bad. He wasn't that far out really, but it felt like it took forever to get there because I was fervently hoping he'd have tags. I could actually feel the relief wash over me when I got there and saw patches of blue collar peeking out between the drifting fur.

I towed him into the shallows by the collar. I'm the most familiar with bodies, which is why I was the one who went out to him, and I know that they age differently in the water but by my judgment he'd died farily recently - less than a day ago. When he's in close enough to shore that I don't think he'll drift away any time soon, I unclip his collar and return to the group. We sit down and strategize for a few minutes. How do you make a call like that without raising their hopes? (Answer: you can't - just the phone ringing will be enough).

"I'm very sorry," I say, "but I found a dog in the lake and I thought you would want to know." She tells me she was half expecting a call like this, that the gate didn't latch correctly and both dogs got out but only one came home. She tells me that they were so worried he wouldn't be able to find his way home in the storm last night. She tells me he was very old, that his mind had been going for awhile now. She tells me that most of his life, until the last few years as his body became less able to manage the walk, they would come down to a beach near here and that he loved to swim. She tells me she hopes he at least got to relive those memories for a bit before he went.

I give her the coordinates, it's not too far from a road if you bushwhack - certainly less than the 3mi we did, and tell her we'll bring him to shore. I pick him up out of the shallows, he feels frail, yet he's so so heavy from the weight of the water in his fur. He's much smaller than Nova, yet lifting Nova has never felt like that. I lay him gently on the rocky beach in what I hope is a natural looking, less-traumatizing-to-the-kids position. I clip his collar back on, with the fur no longer drifting around in the water obscuring it, you can now see the little tag saying "Poochie" on the front. We head back the way we came. That was walk enough for all of us, it would feel wrong to seek a different ending, and it was an out and back trail anyway.

Ever since then, every dead cat or dog I see reminds me of those lakeside discussions. We are all overly dedicated animal people, we're fully aware of microchips and all of our own pets are microchiped, but carrying a waterlogged body 3mi to the car to drive it to the vet's office was just not feasible - I don't think it would occur to most people that that was even an option. Even if they did think of it, most people would be opposed to putting a dead animal in their vehicle. I'm just gonna make it easy on people and put my phone number on my animals.

(Sorry, that post was so much longer than it needed to be, but my brain must have recorded that experience in a different kind of memory than usual because it is so so clear and comes all as a set like that so that's what you got too)

TLDR: OP found a dead dog once and has big feelings about it. Put collars/etc. on your pets

[valentine-cafe]

Hi there! I normally walk just past this place, but something smelled particularly good. The croissant, maybe? Chocolate? (Dark content, smut)

Yeah so like this is a bit of a weird ask and I know that... but the aesthetics of your page just made me think of an enigma whose body was like that of taffy? Squishy, soft, sticky, and most importantly, stretchy. I was thinking reader would be a man, who was working for the Resistance but ended up in the clutches of some very nefarious people.

Maybe they can start out with just invasive physicals, but it slowly worsens and... yeah. Do as much as you feel comfortable with, please!

Yours truly, Hush~

. ˚◞♡ 𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒙 𝒃𝒕𝒕𝒎 𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 ꒰ 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒎𝒂𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓 𝒔𝒏𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 ꒱◞ ₊˚

⊹ ۪ ࣪ ᥫ᭡ 209 jingyi / bttm male reader ꒱ you caught the mad doctor's eye. he hated the idea of feeling attracted to an experiment. and no matter how much he tried to sate it, he needed to get his hands on you

𖹭. content warnings◞  dark content . experimentation on reader . implied torture . dub con . mind control . explicit content . rough sex . penetrative sex . 0.7k

𖹭. receipts◞  glad that you decided to stop by dear customer<3 one croissant coming up! this honestly was so much fun to write and quickly became my favourite request because I have been itching to write some dark stuff with the herrera husbands<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒔 ꒱ m.list . guidelines . characters . lorebook ⊹ ۪ ࣪ 

𖹭. the mad doctor of valence has certainly seen many peculiar enigma around, but you by far were quite the special case. he is well aware of the classification of “body morphers” under the enigma hat, but you caught his eye in quite the special way.

𖹭. jìngyí had seen you around his brother a few times. he was uncertain why the depths of his soul burned with bitterness. he assumes it was the idea of an enigma type being out there that he had not quite explored. in reality it was you. the fact that a lowly enigma had sparked his interest in a way he never thought it would.

𖹭. he was disgusted, yet thrilled. like a snake eager to sink its fangs into new prey. one can imagine his excitement when his husband admitted to the same dark desires.

𖹭. lucky them. you’d found yourself caught in the last hunt and now found yourself along an examination table. jìngyí did well in exploring your limits. how far your body could go. viscosity? durability? compressibility, torsion, extensibility and temperature? oh he was salivating like a kid in the candy store.

𖹭. he especially loved the way that you would scream. how your voice would change depending on the shape and condition your elastic body was in. he found himself especially fascinated with how you’d cry when his hand would bury into your squishy side or around your sticky neck. even your tears tasted sweet.

𖹭. no matter all his experiments, he couldn’t rid himself of those dark desires that plagued his very being. so what better than to offer you a place in his circus? to perform, to live - while he induced you with a mind control mechanic?

𖹭. oh how you begged for him. how he adored the way your body would wrap around him and cling like a lovesick fool while he pounded your tight, gummy walls. one strong arm wrapped around whatever amalgamation your figure took while the other palmed at your squishy ass.

𖹭. you felt amazing. his mind would swim with pleasure every time his thick cock buried and throbbed into your warmth. he’d cream you so many times an over. it mattered how much or how long he fucked you over whatever surface he could find — he’d always end up cum drunk.

𖹭. jìngyí would be in a state when you started wrapping around him more intensely. extending your hands to provide him more pleasure as well. he’d bite down on whatever soft, messy flesh he could and buck his hips into yours like a feral animal.

“god you are so tight,”

a pant. a ragged groan. snake pupils constrict and his lips part. displaying fangs extended and blood on his tongue. soon to be more when he buried his cold face into your chest and bit again.

“h-hngh fuck -” your hand reaches to cling onto his hip. feel the way that he’s pounding your poor ass raw. filling it to the brim and fucking out his cum onto your thighs from the sheer intensity of his thrusts.

“d-don’t stop - dontstopdontstopdont -”

you choke out when strong fingers squeeze around your dick. a calloused thumb rubbing messy circles around your tip.

“you are disgusting.” the deep hiss finds your ear. followed by a hiccupping moan. his brows crease and he messily thumps his hips against yours as he tenses and squirts your walls white once more.

“d-disgusting little creature. but ah, d-damn. . . do you feel so good.”

he’d hoist you up. twisting your limps into whatever way he wishes as he presses you up against the examination table and goes for a third round. a fourth. a fifth. anything to ease this insatiable sweet tooth.

𖹭. taglist◞ wanna join the taglist? fill out this form

𖹭. remember◞ you make a writer's day every time you like, reblog and/or comment on their piece. if you enjoyed my work, please considering doing so<3

. ˚◞ ꒰ 🍰 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 ꒱ tip jar . masterist ⊹ ۪ ࣪

[shan-yee]

𝙳𝚊𝚛𝚔 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝

Daryl Dixon x younger!fem!reader ๏𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜 = 950 ๏𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 = death, gun, reader lost her sibling and her parents, reader lost her sanity, age gap, Daryl saw the reader grow up. ๏𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢 = Sometimes you have to do things that you don’t want to for the sake of your loved ones. ๏𝙰/𝙽 = I KNOW I HAVE REQUESTS TO DO, but i rewatched TWD and damn Daryl… ๏𝙰/𝙽 2 = English is not my first language, please let me know if you see any mistakes ! Enjoy ✨

Save me from the nothing i’ve become

Daryl had never believed in love, that is, if this « love » concerned him directly. He had always been happy for his people when they found the boot that fit them. But the idea that he could one day find someone who would accept him for who he was despite his damn character and his many emotional wounds, still open, was inconceivable to him.

And if one day someone had told him that he would indeed find love in a young woman whom he had watched grow up and protected for a good part of his life, he would have laughed out loud. Even more so if this said person had told him that he would also be the one to take the young woman’s life.

He didn't understand how everything could have taken such a turn, was it too much to ask to have a happy and simple life, in a house with blue walls and a garden, with his family.

Accepting the fact that he loved someone much younger than him took courage but he did it. And when he was finally living a somewhat normal life in this apocalyptic world, he now had to take the life of the woman he loved to protect his found family.

When Rick told him about it, he refused, he even got angry and shoved his friend before storming off. Then he thought, really thought, about what Rick had said to him.

Looking at [Y/N], sitting towards the many graves that the inhabitants had dug, with a blank look and the skin of her lips bleeding from the many open wounds they had, he realized that maybe, maybe it was the best solution.

Daryl understood that after losing the only living member of her family the young woman might be devastated and need time. But there was something else behind this sadness, a feeling that Daryl had only seen in his father. Such destructive hatred that he came to shiver every time his gaze met that of his beloved.

She had never been the type to always be full of energy or cheerful, how could you be when death lurks near your house every day, but this look had nothing to do with her usual detached and grumpy morning look.

So finally, he accepted. It was out of the question that anyone other than him would do it. He had gripped the grip of his gun with a trembling hand and that same evening he had found the young woman in the garden, where she spent most of her time, looking at the flowers that Carol was growing with disinterest.

When he got close enough to clearly see the outline of her body, he stopped abruptly, like a stake. And the [H/C] haired woman seemed to know he was there, why he was there.

He saw her turn her head slightly and glance at his weapon before turning it around and returning her attention to the many flowers.

—I’m tired. She whispered, her voice raspy, as if she hadn't slept for several days.

—I know. He answered her, his eyebrows furrowing as he felt like he had never blinked so much in his entire life.

—I’m sorry.

—I know. he repeated.

The young woman's shoulders sagged before she slowly stood up, Daryl's gaze following her every movement with an eagle eye. He knew she wouldn't try to run away and deep down he hoped she would, that she would hit him before running away at full speed. But she wouldn't do it, even if he asked her.

She approached slowly and Daryl was able to admire her one last time, she didn't smile at him, she hadn't done so for a while, but he saw a certain tenderness in her eyes, a tenderness that she always reserved for him and their friends.

Decided, the man took her in his arms, her head against his chest and she let him do without saying anything, her eyes closing.

—You’re not going to kiss me one last time ? She asked him with a touch of humor in her voice.

But he didn't answer her. She knew that her question was selfish, she was going to rest forever but he would have to live with that, live with the act he was going to commit and the distant memory of a woman he had loved but could not save.

—Will it hurt ? Her voice resonated like a sweet melody in the older 's ear.

—I don’t know.

—That’s the only thing you didn’t know tonight. The young woman laughed without any real amusement.

He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that he didn’t know what he was doing right now, that his action was surely going to be the biggest mistake of his life, but he didn’t. He decided to keep his feelings to himself, tonight was not about him but about her and for his peace of mind he was ready to bury everything.

She finally felt the soft coldness of the muzzle against her temple before taking a deep breath, she felt ready, ready to finally find her family in the afterlife and stop this infinite race against death.

—I love you Daryl, i really do.

The corners of his mouth twitched and he held her a little closer to his chest as if to reassure himself.

—I love you. He murmured in the corner of her ear, leaving aside his usual disinterested tone before pressing the trigger.

Daryl never spoke of that night again, refusing even to pronounce the first name of his former lover and no one ever found the young woman's body.

[dirtyzucchini]

Let me tell you something about Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father and, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian consulate.

There was never much of a chance that Benton Fraser would grow up to be what most people would casually call "a regular guy". From what little insight we get, no part of his childhood would have been standard. Looking at the anecdote Bob Fraser tells in Burning Down The House, we can assume that Benton grew up in a cabin his father built by hand, in a location remote enough and far enough North that living in an igloo during the construction of said cabin was a sensible thing for his parents to do. We see one picture of the family in Good For The Soul, and it is a puzzler:

Now, I wasn't around in the mid to late 1960's when that photo would have been taken, and I've never been to Canada's far North, but everything I could find anywhere tells me that that is not how (white!) people dressed then even up there, and no, I am not talking about trendy fashion. Everyday clothing looked pretty much like what we still wear today, but the people in that picture don't. They look like this guy - a European "explorer" whose picture was taken in 1889:

Side note: I am purposely only talking about white/western/mainstream society in this post because the Frasers are white.

I wonder what drove them to live like this, and so far away from other people? It can't have been money, Bob would have made enough to support them. I guess Fraser's parents weren't regular guys, either.

Anyway, we know that Bob wasn't around much while Fraser's mother was alive, and even less so after her death. He handed the boy off to his own parents instead, and Benton was raised by literal, real life Edwardians, people who were born before the invention of band-aids and bubblegum. Public radio broadcasts were cutting-edge technology when they were young. I'm glad they stepped up, and I'm sure they did their best, but they weren't exactly well-equipped to prepare a child for life in modern society. They were librarians who for some reason moved around a lot. When he was eight, they took Benton to a place called Alert - the northernmost continously inhabited place in the world. Unfortunately it's inhabited by soldiers and researchers who go there on six-months-tours, but it counts because the tours overlap. Fraser would have been the only child there, and, the times being what they were, his grandmother the only woman. What librarians would have done in Alert we can only speculate about, but between this and the fact that they helped build an English-speaking library in China before the revolution, we can safely assume that we are dealing with another generation of non-regular Frasers here. This idea is supported by the fact that they fed Fraser arctic tern for Christmas. Each bird weighs under 130 grams, and they would be hard to come by in northern Canada in December because they migrate to literally the other end of the world after breeding in the Arctic in the summer. I'm not entirely certain what this says about Fraser's grandparents, but it sure says something, doesn't it?

This bird may scream, but it does not scream Christmas to me.

Listen, I LOVE that Fraser's grandmother taught him how to box from a book.

Perhaps this one from 1922? In this book, the writer "not only describes the various moves of the game and traces the history of their development but deals comprehensively with all the factors of body and mind that make for success in the ring." Sounds like a good choice!

I do NOT love that she taught him that being in the hospital for three weeks after being shot in the back is "babying yourself". She also raised Bob Fraser to be the kind of man who tells his journal "The last time I saw Ben, he was barely tall enough to reach my belt. When I said good-bye he shook my hand. Never a tear or a complaint. Seven years old and he's already a stronger man than I'll ever be. Someday I'll tell him.", and friends, I DO NOT love that at all. That is NOT a healthy way to deal with emotions, and I think we can agree that growing up guided by these mindsets did Fraser no favors at all. Look at how he lives! His apartment is absolutely bare-bones, no personality, and after that he literally lives in his office - this is a man who gets REALLY uncomfortable when he's comfortable, is what I'm saying. Everything he does is quick and efficient to make sure he can devote a maximum amount of time to his work. I'd bet "Idle hands are the devil's workshop" was a very common saying in the Fraser household.

Look, our upbringing informs who we become, how we approach life, how we connect to those around us. Fraser's view of the world is completely different from how other people see it. Long before he's displaced geographically, he's displaced in time.

He grew up without TV, and while living with librarians gave him access to a large number of books, the libraries they worked at served remote communities and would not have been all too well funded. It stands to reason they would have had to make their books last as long as possible, and that new purchases would have been, shall we say, conservative? Copies of beloved classics, books with general appeal, books with educational/instructional value would have made up the bulk of purchases. Even if the librarians wanted to, there would have been little money to buy more controversial books - and it doesn't seem likely that Fraser's grandparents would have wanted to. Fraser probably grew up on adventure tales, detective stories and, as a teen and young adult, the classics from Austen to Shakespeare.

When he gets to Depot in Regina to become a Mountie he has nothing in common with the other recruits, and that continues throughout all his career. There's a reason he's still a Constable after all his years of service: he's severely lacking in social skills, and his upbringing is a big part of that problem*. He was raised by Edwardians on Victorian (and Romantic) mores and values, and bridging that gap to make connections with people from what's essentially a different world is very, very hard.

TL,DR: Fraser is both an alien and a time traveler, and we should remember that when we talk about him.

*Other parts of the problem are his queerness and neurodiversity, but those are topics for another essay. Please know that by problem I do NOT mean there's something wrong with him, I mean that there's something wrong with how society treats people like him.

Big thank you to @sammaggs and @sammeltassensammelsurium for excellent feedback!

[dsireland86]

Hello ☺️ Hope your doing well.

Could I please request a Matt Dierkes one shot if possible him being a grumpy ass except to his wife?? Fluffy and cute 🙏

Oh you are my first Matt Dierkes one-shot! Yes! Thank you for the inspiration :)

Feeling on the Edge

TAGS: @philomenie @supersquirrel1996 @foliosgirl @angelmarie89 @fadingintothegrey @theanarchymuse95 @thisbicc @lma1986

Matt drummed his fingers on his lap anxiously. I could tell he was in a bad mood, dying to get out of the video call meeting with the management team. His face said he was irritated and completely over the whole record label bull crap. He just wanted to be done.

Seeing how fidgety he was, I nudged his leg beneath the table with my foot hoping the friction was enough to tame his temper. He looked over at me and his dark eyes, full aggression, immediately softening.

I grinned at him to let him know I was still in his corner. He grinned back, took a deep breath, and refocused his attention on the computer screen, but not before reaching over and placing his hand on the inside of my thigh.

The rest of the day was hell for everyone, because Matt insisted on setting the world around him on fire. Every little thing that someone did annoyed him. Every word that was said, Matt had some sarcastic, snippy remark to follow it.

In the process of just three hours, he managed to break a computer monitor because he was too impatient, cut the wrong wire while attempting to splice a cable that Noah said was dead, spill Nicholas's coffee all down the front of him because he turned around too fast out of anger, dropped a mix board, misplaced his phone not once, not twice, but three times, and to top it all off, he had run out of Dr. Pepper.

"Dude, you need to calm the hell down! You starting to stress me out," Folio criticized him.

"Yeah, no joke. And if Folio is stressed then the rest of us are at the point of giving you a beatdown."

Matt glared at Noah who crossed his arms while leaning against the table. Matt didn't speak, but the look he was giving Noah screamed a big "fuck you".

"Well, it's not my fault. Those stupid pieces of shit at the record label treat me like I'm and idiot sometimes. I'm not a fucking idiot! I know how to do my job!"

"Nobody is say you are, baby," I pointed out.

"Matt calm down, man. You know not to listen to those people."

Nicholas came walking into the conversation after switching to a pair of clean clothes.

"Oh my god! What the hell are you wearing?"

Matt's expression was of utter disgust, looking at Nick. All of us turned and stared, a few bursting into fits of laughter. Nick didn't match at all. Sporting a neon pink shit that was a little too snug and a pair of snake skin looking pants that were way too stretchy for him to be wearing, he looked ridiculous.

"What?" Nick shrugged with his hands up. "It's all I could find. If someone hadn't been so angry and turned around so fast," scowling over at Matt, "I wouldn't be in this mess."

"Oh so it's my fault you look like a clown?" Matt snapped.

"Yeah, I kinda is," Nick shot back. "And your piss poor attitude!"

"What! I don't have a piss poor attitude! I've just had a fucked up day and all of you have added to it!"

"What! I didn't do anything!" I exclaimed defensively.

Matt's eyes quickly shifted over to me. "No, no, not you baby. You're fine. You haven't done anything wrong," he reassured me, smiling.

"Oh for god's sake, come on man! Your wife isn't that perfect," Folio groaned.

"Hey!"

"Mmm, I don't know, Folio, she's pretty perfect. I mean, you've had her cooking, and we all know that's she's done your laundry a few times, even finding the matches to your lost socks."

Folio looked at me, smiling apologetically.

"Yeah I guess so. Sorry, Y/N," he said leaning over and laying a sweet soft kiss on my cheek.

"Okay, well if you all are done flirting with my wife, I'd like to have her back now, please. Go get your own women! She belongs to me."

"Matt! That was so mean!"

"What! It's true! They're always trying to steal you from me."

I laughed so hard.

"Holy shit, Matt, you can't be serious!"

"Especially you," he chided Noah. "You're always trying to get in her pants."

"Alright, Matthew. That's it! Come with me; now!"

"It's Matt," he corrected me as I pulled him away from the group.

"What is going on with you? Where did that come from? Noah? Really, Matt!"

Squeezing his eyes shut, Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, walking sluggishly over to me. I snaked my arms around his waist, shaking my head at the Lord of the Rings Shirt he was wearing.

"I just washed that shirt and hung it up last night," I scolded him.

Turning his hat backwards, he lowered his forehead to mine, taking a deep breath.

"I'm sorry. I'm snapping again, aren't I?"

I smiled, placing my hands on the sides of his face.

"Yes, baby, you are," slowly sliding my hands up under his shirt. I played with the front of the waistband of his joggers, feeling his tummy sink in from being so ticklish. He chuckled, jerking his body away from me, but I gathered his shirt in my hands and pulled him back into me. That's when his lips found mine, colliding ever so gently. They were wet and warm, and tasted like the recent Celsius he'd just had.

"I'm sorry," he breathed.

"For which part?"

He scowled at me, confused.

"For being grumpy or the shirt?"

Matt laughed, giving me a quick kiss.

"Both."

"You owe those guys over there more of an apology. You've been horrible to them today. Are you listening to me?"

"Yup, I am," he assured me. But the way he scooped me up into his arms, leaning over me and attaching his lips to my neck, I knew he wasn't.

"Matthew, stop!" I squealed, trying to get out of his clutches. "Let me go!"

"It's Matt, and no," he groaned, letting his head fall to my chest as I continued to wiggle out of his embrace. "I'm not letting you go. Ever."

The more I wiggled, the more he tightened his grip and my leg got caught up in his, tripping me, and causing me to fall. I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for the hard impact, only to meet a soft body beneath me and a slight bump to the floor. I looked down and saw Matt beneath me.

"Shit, baby!"

"I'm fine. Don't worry. I'm good." He stared up at me, smiling.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Positive," he assures me, reaching up and pulling me into his lips. He kissed me slow, taking his time to let me feel every move he made.

"Mmm, that... I like that."

He grinned. "I like, you. A lot."

"Oh really? I hadn't noticed," I joked, leaning in and kissing him again, feeling him smile against my lips.

Matt sat up and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his lap. I rested my arms on his shoulders, staring into his eyes.

"You're really pretty, you know that?"

"Oh, so you can give compliments. Shocking!"

"Shut-up! God," he shook his head laughing. "Your sarcasm's going to kill me one day. And what the hell, I'm trying to be nice here!"

Matt tickled my sides, making me laugh hysterically.

"I love you," he said, kissing my forehead.

Wrapping myself up in his arms, I snuggle into Matt, burying my face in his chest. His heart was beating fast, telling me he was happy; that I made him happy.

"I love you, too, Matthew," I replied, grinning.

"It's Matt."

[terukotime]

allow me to be super delulu for a second

if either Eden or Ace are the actual killer, that would mean one of them would be saying their secret quotes in the next coming episodes. but...do we really feel like the situation warrants them saying what their quotes are?

Ace's is: "I don't know what to do with myself anymore."

Eden's is: "You can't go back, no matter how hard you try."

Ace's feels a little strange to say in the trial. we're very close to unearthing the real culprit, and if Ace really is the killer, when would he say that? immediately upon being found out? the quote itself has their air of melancholy and defeatism, and even at his lowest, we know Ace isn't someone to concede or go down without a fight. and if he knows he's about to die, what's the point in saying "I don't know what to do with myself anymore" when he's not even going go be alive in the next few moments? He WON'T be doing anything with himself anymore, he'll be dead.

Eden's, while not as strange of a thing to say as Ace, is also kind of peculiar. when would she say it? while she's admitting to the murder? if Eden did it, sure, it's believable that she'd feel some regret, but the setup to her being the killer feels very odd now that we've gone through this big emotional moment between her and Teruko. honestly, after all that, if Eden really is the killer, i'd be more inclined to believe she WOULDN'T regret killing Arei. it'd seem like her crying and pleading was all just emotional manipulation. it also seems strange to me that Eden would have already had it in mind to kill Arei when she and Teruko found Ace, and took the opportunity to steal the tape to carry it out. i could definitely be wrong, and please correct me if i am, but i think the attempted murder was the same day as what happened with Eden and Arturo? honestly, even if it wasn't, it just feels weird to me that Eden would find some way to disguise her handwriting, set up a murder method even more elaborate than Nico's original version, and then do the whole trial pleading and sobbing for people to believe she didn't kill her and actually have regretted her actions. that shit is so premeditated that everything Eden has done thus far feels like immense emotional manipulation. while that could still be possible...it's not really that satisfying, i'd say. who knows, maybe i'm in severe denial, but i just think this characterization of Eden would be really weird. it would feel less like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked turned out to be awful", and more like a betrayal of "man, this character i liked has made a 180° in their personality without any foreshadowing of having a darker side to them".

and i'm just still really hung up on Hu. her secret quote, "I want to pay for what I've done. But even then, I still want to live." makes total sense in the context of this trial, especially after her secret reveal. and while it's pretty unlikely she took the tape from the gym, there's no guarantee that the person who took the tape at the time HAS to be the murderer. i'm just still hung up on the fact that it feels like there needs to be one last, big twist before the true killer is revealed. a moment where Teruko comes to her realization and the culprit is selected before she makes any actual accusation against them. we already knew Eden and Ace would be the ones Teruko was going to interrogate in the selection because of her explanation. just given how drdt has been written thus far, i feel like they wouldn't hand the potential answer to us like that so easily. like we wouldn't get to the point of selecting the culprit with the story already telling us it can only be one of two suspects.

it's entirely possible that i'm just coping and am refusing to accept that one of my favorite characters is actually the culprit. or that drdt could have a trial that isn't greatly written. it's totally fine if i'm wrong and Eden or Ace really is the killer, i definitely won't enjoy it much but it's not my story, nor would it completely make me drop drdt.

i honestly just needed to rant LMAO. this episode left me with a LOT of feelings.

[yanderes-galore]

Oooh how about yandere scenario where Macaque grows obsessed with the platonic female travel healer reader who’s also a monkey demon , who was around him when he came back from the dead, and nurse him back to health, but what if reader had to leave after his treatment was done👀 (if you want to include a prompt , maybe 1 “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” From ddarker-dreams)

I assume you meant they're both platonic with each other and not just the obsession being platonic. Either way, I struggled on this plot-wise... but I hope it came out okay.

Familiar Face

Yandere! Platonic! Macaque with Healer! Monkey Demon! Darling Scenario

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Female Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Clingy behavior, Possessive behavior, Macaque has a thing for scents, Kidnapping, Forced companionship.

Macaque was a face you haven't seen in a long time.

You already knew of him, as a fellow monkey demon you naturally knew of the others. You were on friendly terms with Wukong and Macaque when the two got along with one another. Yet after their falling out, and Macaque being sent to the Underworld to suffer, you took up the job of a wandering healer.

While Wukong became a hero as the Monkey King, you wandered the lands helping those in need. Many knew you as a helpful monkey demon compared to your more mischievous compatriots. Always finding those in need to help... before leaving on your way again.

You've had many patients. Human and demon alike. However... you don't think you could have ever been prepared for meeting who you did today.

Macaque himself, a thousand-yard stare on his face as he looks... lost? Confused?

You kept your distance until he collapsed on the ground, then you felt obligated to help.

Your usual routine was to set up a camp to help your patients. Quickly you got to work setting up a tent with two bedrolls before doing your best to pick up the other monkey demon. Once setting him inside... you got to work.

You started with an herbal remedy for exhaustion, making a tea before waking Macaque up. Naturally... your old friend was... combative. You should've expected that from someone supposedly straight out of the underworld.

It took a lot of reasoning, bickering, and some restraints before Macaque calmed down. It appeared the other monkey didn't recognize you at first. Yet once you calmed him and passed over your remedy, you saw a glint of recognition in his eyes.

There's a long silence as Macaque recovers. You let him keep quiet, sitting back in your tent as he sips your remedy. What feels like a half an hour passes before he acknowledges you properly.

"... So... it's you...?" Macaque murmurs, still recovering as he sips the tea you gave him. It's not entirely his thing but it is helping. You snort, looking him over as your tail sways.

"Yeah, you're lucky I crossed your path when I did...." You sigh, curiously watching the shadow monkey. "You aren't supposed to be here... How'd you even get here?"

There's a long awkward pause before Macaque laughs nervously.

"Long story! I guess you could say I got some help... I promise I'll... behave this time." Macaque laughs softly, although you can tell it's a bit forced. "Geez... You're doing this now? Running around doing...?"

"I help people, Macaque." You answer, checking over your supplies. "That's what I've chosen to dedicate my time to. I roam and help people."

"You're playing hero?" Macaque scoffs, immediately reminded of the fact you and Wukong got to be helpful while he was cast into the depths. "You taking after him?"

"It's nothing like that." You huff, sitting in front of him. Macaque can't help but watch you intently... despite the edge in his tone. "I get restless sitting still. People look to me for help. I enjoy doing that."

Macaque merely gives a grunt of disapproval as he curls his tail around himself. It was... pleasant to see a familiar face. He's just... envious he had to suffer for so long.

You're still just as helpful as he remembers... it's both pleasant and infuriating.

"Right, of course, free spirit and all...." Macaque murmurs, golden eyes trained on you before freezing when you came closer.

"I'm checking you over for wounds...." You reassure him, taking note of his suddenly flicking tail. "Stop acting so damn grumpy... I'm trying to help...."

Macaque is stunned by your comment but reluctantly relents. He can't deny he always enjoyed your scent and touch. You were always soothing... always easing his stress even around Wukong.

The word fate flashes into his mind but he flinches and ignores it. He was simply... lucky. Lucky to have met you again... one of his best companions...

Fate and destiny are such silly concepts.

But as Macaque lets you check him over, he can't help but... admire you still. You two weren't just on "friendly terms" to him. To him... you two were true friends.

Yet when he confronted Wukong and the two fought... He saw his female monkey friend nowhere.

At the time, and a little now, Macaque resented you for that. You were no doubt either told by Wukong to leave or were off helping someone else. All while Macaque was left to suffer without your presence.

Smelling your scent, the distinct scent of herbs and female monkey, only brought up memories. Memories of he, Wukong, and you together. Memories before all the hurt.

The thought nearly brings tears to his golden eyes but he hides it. He shakes a bit at the feeling, causing you to look up at him confused. Macaque merely glares... even when he doesn't mean it.

Having you help him felt like no coincidence...

If fate... destiny really brought you two together...

Macaque would be a fool to let you slip out of his grasp again.

---

Recovery didn't take long for Macaque. Yet the fellow mystic monkey managed to drag out your stay for an entire week and a half. He excused it as 'catching up'... all in hopes of seeing his healer monkey friend again.

You often monitored Macaque carefully throughout his recovery. While normally cunning and mischievous, he seemed strangely behaved with you. He took every remedy you gave him with no complaint and overall just acted playful.

It reminded you of old times when your only concerns was eating fruit with your friends. You could tell Macaque was particularly fond of those times. Throughout the week he kept bringing them up, smiling as he clung to you.

Your reunion was surprisingly sweet with him. You were so caught up in remembering those pleasant memories you nearly didn't notice his change in demeanor. The longer he was with you... the clingier he was.

Despite being friends, Macaque often wrapped his arms around you. His tail always right around your waist or entwined with your own. You don't recall him being this clingy before...

But you could only guess what he went through.

Your time with him was pleasant yet you couldn't shake the thought of there being something... off. Not only was his appearance suspicious, but he seemed way too... clingy. You enjoyed seeing your old friend again...

Yet you should really continue on your way....

"You're all healed." You comment, putting your things away. "It was nice to see you again, old friend... Behave, will you?"

Macaque watches you pack up your supplies, dread pooling in his gut for a moment. He... had originally made it his goal to get revenge on Wukong... but he didn't want you to leave. He should let you leave and go about his original plan...

Yet the idea of losing your scent, your warmth...

You freeze when Macaque grabs your tail, peeking over your shoulder. He forces a grin when you glance back at him. You feel intimidated immediately as his grip tightens.

"Leaving so soon, friend?" Macaque purrs playfully, his voice barely hiding a dangerous tone. "I thought you liked me around?

"Macaque, let me go. We'll meet again some other day..." You reason, only for Macaque to shake his head with a chuckle.

"Sorry, girl..." Macaque whispers, pulling you close. "Don't think I can let you do that...."

"Let go, Macaque...!" You growl, earning another chuckle from the shadow behind you.

"Why ever would I do that?" Macaque muses, slinking in front of you. "Don't you know I missed you, my friend? I missed the girl of our mystic friend group... and how she always helped people..."

Macaque steps closer, his stance predatory.

"Even if the person she helped was dangerous..." Macaque coos, leaning in to place a hand on your shoulder. "She still helped... even if it got her into trouble... isn't that right, friend?"

"Wh—?" You go to respond, yet dark hands erupt from your own shadow and trap you. You struggle the best you can, panicking. Macaque only watches with a grin, tail swaying.

"So sorry to do this... but I can't just let you go now, can I?" Macaque pouts, circling you. "I haven't seen you for what feels like millennium. Being lonely really hurts...."

Macaque then embraces you from the front after he finishes his circle, his tail wrapping around yours securely.

"Don't you know we were meant to meet again?" Macaque whispers with a mischievous grin. "You were meant to help me. Us, two friends, together again...!"

You still try to struggle, but Macaque's grip tightens.

"Afraid I can't let you go anywhere, friend." Macaque purrs, patting your head.

"You're stuck with me now... destiny demands it...." Macaque hums, playful as he nuzzles into your fur.

"You've always been too naive for your own good... Helping people can be dangerous, y'know...!"