#its not like they are really hiding anything from us

[mev-fizzah-writes]

ᑎᑌᗰᗷ 𓌉◯𓇋

A/N: First fic on this acc!! Enjoy this little angsty fic :) Neglected bat!reader breaks their sobriety after their family makes a grave mistake. Sure Reader should be used to it by now, but offering them a drink? At a Gala they forced you to attend? On your birthday? What a load of bull. You pray that Damian doesn't find out...but sadly they don't get accepted. No beta reader, we die like Jason Todd TW: Substance abuse, alcoholism, brief mention of underage drinking, self harm etc .

𐙚"Don't let them see you like this" -Alex G 𐙚

ᑎᑌᗰᗷ

That's what it felt like, not a single though in your mind. It was consumed by the taste on your lips, the bottle in your hand. Limp, you sat in your bathtub, surrounded by broken glass and empty beer cans. The loud city of Gotham seemed to finally be silence, it seemed distant. It was the only thing keeping you from fully drifting away, the faint sound of cars, the only time you thanked this godforsaken city for being loud.

Guilt hadn't reached your mind yet, you only wanted to drink. Focusing on how the burn in your throat made you feel, oh how it made you feel so alive. Each breath felt sharp against your throat, it made you want more. The alcohol coursed through your veins, providing an escape, providing a warmth no person ever gave to you.

Leaning more into the cold porcelain you stared at the shattered glass by your feet. You could feel its sharp edges against your feet, it was a constant reminder of your mistakes.

Unfixable, the glass and your life. But right now that didn't matter, only the bottle existed, the burn and the urge to finish it. You managed the strength to pull your arm up, tilting your head back to feel it. The taste you missed so much, a taste you wanted to forget had no idea why you would neglect. What a day to celebrate your twenty second birthday! Relapsing after two years wasn't your plan today but it sure was better than anything else that happened today.

The night, displayed by your bathroom window, taunted you. It made your mind float through an intoxicated haze. Pieces of the day coming back to you, as well as the -now broken- promises you made. A sigh left your lungs and it was evident that she had drank, so much. All of this, just because of one question. A question that shouldn't have broken your heart as much as it did, really it was pathetic.

"Why aren't you drinking tonight?"

The sound of your 'brothers' voice was distant, and so was the guilt that was soon to consume you. But as the line between fiction and reality blurred more with another sip, there was not a worry in your head. The guilt will come later, but here it was no where to be seen. The only thing you could grasp was the bottle you used to keep on the highest shelf.

A shelf that was now empty, thanks to your so-called family's echoes. Echoes that were forever etched into your brain. Not only had they forgotten about your birthday, forcing you into a social event that you already dreaded, but they had also forgotten about your sobriety. Was not drinking on your twenty-first not an obvious sign? The question had filled you with anger at first. Your fists were clenched to your side when Dick had asked that. Hopefully you would forget this day ever happended.

"Why aren't you drinking tonight?" Dick said with slurred speech, making your family turn their heads to you. At first you took it as a joke, that he was trying to make you less tense. When your chuckle left all of them confused that's why you could feel your heart shattered. It felt like time had stopped, like god was playing a joke on you. You just stared at them, not giving him an answer. "You're kidding." There was no point in hiding the sadness in your voice, there was no way anyone was going to care anyway. After a strangled 'yes' left his lips you decided there was no point in talking them. You took one last glance back at your dad Bruce, he looked like he was going to offer you a drink, that was the last straw, so you decided there was no point in staying. Sadly, you did. Just enough to take a sip of champagne, just enough to set you back. God did you wish Damian was with you, he would've remembered.

Remember. That's the only thing you wanted to do. Today was supposed to be simple, go with Damian to a petting zoo, visit you favourite café with a few friends and be done with your day.

Damian...would he have stopped you from doing this? He was too young to attend whatever you were at this morning and sadly he wanted to meet up with his friend. You weren't going to stop him, he was the only one that listened to you and vise versa.

It made you chuckle, every time you told him about how much you used to drink, and every time he would give a small lecture on how much it impacts your liver and brain. Being a doctor would really suit him.

Just as you close your eyes you see a small light peeking outside the door. Light footsteps followed soon after, and suddenly everything is crashing down. You shake your head, hoping, praying that it isn't Damian. You'd rather it be a murderer coming to finally end you then your little brother. No, he had so much faith in you, please. Sadly, if you speak of the devil, he appears.

The light spilling in from the living room stung your eyes, luckily they were already tearing up.

"Sorry I didn't knock, but can you pick up the phone-"

You saw it, the way his eyes widen an he drops your phone. The way the his green eyes suddenly become more reflective, is hands twitched and he took a step back. Your baby brother, staring at you with such a distaste and confusion and...there was nothing you can do. There was no way you could've gotten up to hug hum, even reassuring him seemed impossible in your state. Glass etched into your foot, a pool of blood by feet as your eyes fluttered.

"Wha...y-you promised!" His voice wobbled with an anger that you understood all too well. The way his eyes switched between shock and sadness and the way he seemed to be frozen on the spot. It was like looking into a mirror ten years ago. He stared at you the same way you stared at your mother, it was driving you crazy with guilt.

"Dami..." you croaked out, feeling nothing but selfish.

"No. Keep your eyes open I-I'll call an ambulance. I...I" watching him stutter didn't do anything good for your heart, you just wanted to hold him and tell him that this was just some sick prank.

"I'm sorry...just don't tell Dad." The way you uttered those words seemed to catch him off goard.

"This...feels like a matter that should be reported to hi-"

"Dami. Just don't...please." To be honest, you were baffled he was even understanding you. It didn't even feel like english you were speaking. "I love you, buddy..."

If those were your last words, you were glad. Soon the coldness of the porcelain was no longer there, and there was only a faint ringing you could here. Maybe you were dying? It was a lot less scary then what you thought it would be, it was just...numb. No taste of alcohol, no warmth, no burn. Only numbness.

Just numb.

Numb.

๋࣭ ⭑Laying there lifeless...๋࣭ ⭑

[defectivevillain]

unexpected patronage

pairing: Logan/Wade/Reader

The reader’s pronouns are he/him and he’s masculine intended. Otherwise, race is ambiguous and no physical descriptors are used.

summary: Wade pokes you and you flinch as his finger finds a hole in your shirt, from where Wolverine had grabbed you moments ago. “Sheesh, you practically hole-punched him, pookie.” He says to the man, who growls disapprovingly at the nickname.

You’re a bartender working the graveyard shift at Joe’s Diner. You’ve seen some strange people, but these two guys are by far the strangest…

word count: 3.8k | ao3 version

Warnings: canon-typical blood/violence/suggestive humor. Dogpool is referred to with it/its pronouns until the reader warms up to her. Expect lots of pet names and sexual humor, because it’s Wade.

author's notes: This fic is focused on Reader/Wade/Logan, and it’s explicitly romantic (nothing past making out). I know, this is rare for me. lol.

Also I know virtually nothing about the Deadpool & Wolverine movie, so this will be canon non-compliant. We’re going to pretend Joe’s Diner is just in NYC, lol.

You’ve been a bartender at Joe’s Diner for a bit now. Since you work the graveyard shift, you grow used to seeing a variety of people. Out of all the unique personalities and strange people you’ve met across the past few months, Wade takes the cake. 

The first few times you see him, he’s wearing a hood over his head, sun glasses, and a face mask. You promptly told him he looked very suspicious, to which he responded that it was ‘just his charm’. You had rolled your eyes and served him the drinks he wanted, figuring he didn’t want conversation. Contrary to your expectations, the guy is crazy talkative—quickly introducing himself as Wade before proceeding to talk your ear off. You would be annoyed, but honestly, his chatter is entertaining and it helps the time pass. 

If you thought Wade’s first outfit was weird, what he wears next time is far weirder. He’s outfitted with some sort of red spandex jumpsuit, with katanas strapped to his back and combat boots. He looks positively ridiculous, but, this is New York City after all. You settle for just raising a brow at him. He asks for his typical drink and, after some cajoling, admits that he’s a mercenary by the name of Deadpool. You don’t really have anything to do with that information, so you just shrug it off and continue serving him until he leaves an hour later. 

From then, Wade makes sporadic visits. The most notable one starts just as any other. It’s about one thirty in the morning, and the bar is quiet. You’ve been serving a gruff-looking guy for about an hour now, and you’re beginning to think you should cut him off. Before you can do that, you hear Wade’s voice. 

“Hey, baby!” He greets you. You blink at the pet name, secretly a bit flustered but not showing it. Wade’s just like that. 

“Hi, Wade.” You greet him, a small smile on your face. He’s wearing his suit, which hides his facial expressions. His voice sounds happy, though. 

Wade sidles up to the bar, before turning to face the guy you’ve been serving drinks to. “I’m gonna need you to come with me right now.” He says ominously. You blink in surprise, your heart jumping in your chest a bit at the rather demanding tone in his voice. 

“Look, lady.” The guy huffs. He spares him a glance, before looking back down at his drink. “I’m not interested.”

You pay a glance at Wade, who seems annoyed. Feeling strangely sympathetic, you try to help him out a bit. Why you do it, you’re not entirely sure. He can defend himself—and probably kick the guy’s ass. But still, you’re speaking before you can get yourself to stop. “That’s just Wade,” you hear yourself explaining to the other guy. “He’s a good guy, he won’t hurt you. Unless you give him reason to.” You blink. 

The guy just huffs, clearly uninterested.

“I tried, Wade.” You shrug. At least you can say you tried, and you won’t have to agonize over your silence.  

“And I appreciate that, sweetheart.” Deadpool says sincerely, before shaking his head. “Even your handsome face can’t convince him… The guy’s busted.”

You start to tune out their conversation after that, as they exchange verbal blows and insults. Wade seems to be getting more irritated with each passing second, and you know that things will escalate soon if you don’t do something. 

You had planned on cutting the guy off, but he motions for you to give him another drink. You know it’s not the best idea, but you find yourself sliding another one over to him before you can contemplate the consequences. He promptly downs it in one go. You think you make eye contact with Wade and you look at the glass pointedly. 

“Ah!” He says aloud. You resist the urge to facepalm, instead sneaking glances at the guy. It doesn’t take long for him to pass out and hit the floor. You grimace at the loud sound of his collision with the ground, and hope it wasn’t painful. Then again, the guy seemed pretty muscular—maybe he’ll be fine? 

“What’d you put in that thing?” Wade asks incredulously, looking at the empty glass. “Horse tranquilizer? Glitter glue?” You laugh at the latter remark. Glitter glue? Ridiculous, honestly.

“It was just liquor.” You huff, leaning over the counter slightly and paying the guy a glance. He’s unconscious, but breathing. You look back up at Wade. “He’s been drinking all night; I figured it would only be a matter of time.” 

“I’m speechless.” He says, then continues speaking. You chuckle at the irony. Wade is never truly speechless. “Completely speechless. You know, you make quite the accomplice.”

There’s a beat of silence. “What do you plan to do with him, exactly?” You trail off, feeling a little guilty. Maybe you should’ve asked that question a bit earlier. Ah well. It’s too late for that now. Besides, you trust Wade. He’s not a bad guy. He likely needs him for his mercenary/vigilante stuff. 

Wade’s answer confirms your suspicions. “Oh, I just need his help with something,” Deadpool says vaguely. He considers the guy for a moment. “Besides, he’s Wolverine. He’ll be just fine.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh, that’s Wolverine? Shit.” To think the heavy drinker at your bar was Wolverine… You shake your head in disbelief.

“Yeah!” Wade confirms. “You just knocked out the mighty Wolverine! Not many people can say that.” You grimace, not feeling particularly proud of that fact. 

There are a few seconds of silence before Wade sighs. “Well, I’d love to stay and chat, but I gotta get going.” He almost sounds regretful. 

“Have fun.” You say, raising a brow at the ease with which Deadpool tosses him over his shoulder. “Don’t die.”

“I won’t.” He promises, sending you another mock-salute. Then he stumbles for a second. “Damn, this guy’s heavy. Gotta go; adios!” He’s gone in the blink of an eye. You stare at the front doors for a long moment, before rubbing your eyes roughly and half-expecting to wake up in your bed again. That felt like a dream sequence. Unfortunately for you, it seemed to be reality. 

Wade returns with Wolverine a few mornings later. How do you find that out, exactly? Well, you’re stepping out of the break room and going to the bar when you see Wolverine rummaging through the cabinets. He very nearly rips the door off of the refrigerator and you quickly intervene. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, staring at him in disbelief. “Get out from behind the bar.” You order. 

Wolverine growls, but obeys you and settles in one of the seats. “I need a drink,” he says gruffly. 

“Then just say that, dumbass.” You chastise him. He blinks at you in poorly-concealed disbelief, as if surprised you’ve insulted him. You get the feeling he doesn’t get spoken to like that often. Oops. “What do you want?” You ask. He confirms he wants his usual. 

You prepare his drink and watch as he takes a sip. “Wade finally won you over, huh?” You finally manage to ask, unable to hide your curiosity any longer. Wolverine blinks. You look pointedly over to where Deadpool is sitting, pretending not to eavesdrop. 

Wolverine scoffs. “No.”

“You sure?” You ask. “He seems to think you did.” You send a wave to Wade and he waves back, waggling his fingers excitedly. He looks about as energetic as a little kid hopped up on sugar. It’s kind of sweet. 

“No.” Wolverine repeats. 

You take one look at the guy, grumpy and cranky, and come to a quick decision. “You’re cute.” You huff amusedly. He puts on a cold and uncaring facade, but it’s clear he isn’t actually like that. Deep beneath those layers of muscle, there’s a heart.

It’s as if you insulted him. Every muscle in his body seems to stiffen. He’s tightly wound and tense. “What did you just say?” Wolverine demands, aggravated. 

If you had even an ounce of self-preservation, you’d retract the remark. But it’s nearing three in the morning now, and you’re too tired to care. “I said ‘you’re cute’,” you repeat casually. “Y’know, the whole growly act-” 

Suddenly his claws are in your shirt collar and he’s dragging you forward, bringing you far too close to him and rendering the bar counter between you inconsequential. You wince as his breath hits your neck. “I am not cute.” He growls.

“Okay.” You say, if only to placate him. Truthfully, you think his little growly act is quite cute. But it’s clear he doesn’t think so—and objects to the description. 

Fortunately, before he can put his claws through your throat and end your life, Wade is intervening. “Hey, hands off, werewolf!” He huffs. “He’s the only capable bartender in this place.” 

“Thanks, Wade; I’m flattered.” You respond, hoping Wolverine doesn’t notice how fast your heart is racing. You put your hand on Wolverine’s and attempt to get him to release his grip. He stares at you for a long moment, as if reminding you that he has the control in the situation. You just stare back, unimpressed. He finally releases his grip. 

“You should be flattered, sweet cheeks.” Wade responds, before getting up from the booth and heading over to the bar. He pokes your shirt and you flinch as his finger finds a hole in your shirt. “Sheesh, you practically hole-punched him, pookie.” Wolverine growls at the nickname, clearly disapproving. 

You follow Wade’s gaze to the top of your shirt, where there are puncture marks from Wolverine’s claws. “Aw, seriously?” You complain. Wade’s right—your shirt does look like it was hole-punched. It looks a bit ridiculous. “I liked this shirt.”

“Get another one.” Wolverine says blankly. 

You glare at him. He glares back. 

Wade is practically bouncing on his heels as he looks between you, either oblivious or uncaring of the tension between the two of you. “Look at us,” He says, “The perfect team. The brains, the brawn, and the beauty.” He points to himself, then Wolverine, then you. 

“You think you’re the brains?” You hear yourself say sarcastically before you can stop yourself. Wade gasps in mock-offense. Wolverine huffs in amusement. Deadpool looks between the two of you for several moments, turning his head back and forth. 

“What.” Wolverine eventually demands, annoyed with his constant back-and-forth motion. 

“I don’t like this little duo,” Wade frowns. At least, you imagine he’s frowning underneath the mask. 

“It’s okay, Wade,” you reassure him teasingly. “You can be the beauty, it fits you better.” And you certainly don’t feel like the beauty of this group anyways. 

“Aw, you’re making me blush.” Wade says, bringing his hands to his cheeks. 

“I’m not a part of this,” you feel the need to clarify. They have superpowers, and they’re likely doing something rather important. You’d… rather not join them. You don’t have combat abilities, regeneration, sharpened claws… or anything like that. “But I’ll serve you drinks when it’s all over. When you’re done with… whatever you’re doing.” You offer. Supposedly they’re going on some sort of mission to save the world… Blah blah blah. You don’t know the specifics and you’re grateful for that. 

Wolverine huffs at your comment. “I’m going to need one.” He says. 

“More than one; don’t lie to yourself, buddy.” Deadpool teases. He slaps a hand on the guy’s shoulder in a friendly gesture; Wolverine immediately shoves him off. You resist the urge to laugh, instead pouring him another drink when he asks.

You don’t see Wade or Wolverine for several days. You’re a bit worried, truthfully—but you know they likely have far better things to do than spend time here with you, in the wee hours of the morning. You can only hope they’re not too exhausted.

Finally, after far too long, the front doors open one morning to reveal familiar red and yellow costumes. You look at the two superhumans for a moment, taking in the blood splattered across their tattered clothes and the dark circles under their eyes. They look absolutely exhausted. There’s a dog in a matching red spandex suit at Wade’s ankles; and Wolverine looks less pissed than usual, which is admittedly concerning. What makes you laugh, though, is the state of their tattered uniforms. Wade’s suit is wrecked and Wolverine is wearing a strange mask with two protruding horns. You greet the two of them, before eventually giving in and laughing at the sheer state they’re in. 

“What.” Wolverine demands, taking a seat at the bar. Wade follows his lead, taking the seat next to him. Wolverine doesn’t so much as put up a fight—a clear indication of his fatigue. 

“Sorry.” You say, not feeling particularly apologetic as you struggle to suppress more laughter. You slide him his drink. “It’s just hard to take you seriously wearing that mask.” 

Wade cackles. “You’re not much better, Wade.” You say with a slight smile, getting his drink for him. “You look like a broken fire hydrant.”

It’s Wolverine’s turn to look amused. “You do.” He agrees. 

“Shut up!” Wade huffs defensively. 

“It’s okay, Wade.” You saw with faux concern. Your eyes fall to the dog that came in with him. “Just watch out for your dog; it’ll probably pee on you.” Wolverine snickers. 

“Dogpool!” Wade remarks, as if just remembering the animal’s existence. You roll your eyes, unsurprised that the dog has slipped his attention. He seems like the type to forget he has a pet. 

“Wade, don’t put your dog on the bar counter-” You hiss. But it’s too late—Wade has picked up the dirty dog and placed it on the bar counter, where people drink and eat. Immune to your stress, the dog runs about in small circles, before deciding to scare the shit out of you by jumping right at you. 

You’re forced to catch it. You hold it at a distance, if only because its fur looks matted, dirty, and splattered with the blood of this duo’s enemies. You hold the dog at arm’s length, looking at Wade expectantly. But he’s just laughing his ass off, because of course he is. You hold the dog out to Logan next, but he just shakes his head. Sighing, you set it down on the ground. It’ll lose interest soon. 

But the dog—Dogpool, you remind yourself, unable to take the name seriously—only yips and runs between your legs, before trying to climb up one of them and panting as it stares up at you. “Wade.” You say. “Care to explain why your dog is humping my leg?”

“Aw, she’s just like her father,” Wade coos. You’re sputtering at the remark. “C’mere baby,” Wade says, rounding the bar and holding his arms out to her. 

Dogpool doesn’t even seem to notice him, instead wagging her tail as she still claws at your leg and tries to climb you. 

“Come to daddy, come on.” Wade urges her, making little noises as he beckons her closer. You grimace as she stays near you. Wade visibly deflates. “You’ve stolen my dog’s heart! How dare you?! 

As if you have any control over the situation. But secretly, the longer you look at the dog, the more endearing she becomes. She’s kind of cute. Just a little. Emboldened by Wade’s frustration, you pick up the dog and hold her in your arms. Wade pretends to cry, then attempts to make grabby-hands and get you to give her over.  

You wince as she promptly licks your face with her absurdly long tongue. “Okay, no, never mind-” You quickly back out, placing her down on the counter again. It’s not the ideal place for her, but at least she won’t attempt to coat you in slobber again. 

“Wow, Deadpool is in love with you.” Wade comments, seemingly less bothered now. Then he seems to realize what he just said and starts stammering. “I meant Dogpool. Not Deadpool. That’s me.” You regret the fact that he’s wearing his mask, because you swear it almost sounds like he’s flustered. 

Wolverine looks rather entertained by this conversation. “It’s an alternate version of yourself, and it still likes him better.” He points out. Wade isn’t happy with that comment; Wolverine has a wry smile on his face. “Go to your father.” He then says, tapping the dog lightly and directing her to Wade. She runs up to him and yips excitedly. 

“Aw, you know I can never stay mad at you, honey.” Wade says to the dog, making kissing sounds. You watch the display with amusement, thankful the dog has seemingly forgotten about you. You don’t realize you’re smiling until you feel Wolverine’s gaze burning into the side of your face. 

You blink and turn to him. “Want another drink, Wolverine?” You ask him, a bit restless under the weight of his gaze. 

“Not on this counter.” Wolverine huffs. Then he straightens. “And it’s Logan.”

“Fair enough.” You acquiesce with a smile. Dogpool did just run all over it. “Logan.” You correct yourself. He nods. You decide to focus your attention on cleaning the counter, so you don’t have to think about the look in his eyes as you said his name. 

In the coming weeks, Wade and Logan visit frequently. They always make sure to sit at the bar when you’re working, talking to you and saving you from your boredom. It’s nice to see them slowly return to their normal, well-rested selves. You have to admit: you were a bit worried about them when they showed up with blood splattered across their costumes a while ago.  

Idly, you have to wonder why they still keep visiting you. Sure, you serve drinks—but you work at ungodly hours, and the liquor served here certainly isn’t anything special. It’s a bit cheaper, you suppose. But overall, there are no overwhelming qualities about Joe’s Diner that would make you want to choose it over a regular bar. 

That particular mystery remains unsolved for a while, until one day after hours, when Wade strolls in purposefully—Logan following at his heels. Wade makes a beeline for the bar stool nearest where you’re standing and takes a seat, looking at you pointedly. He isn’t wearing his mask, allowing you to see the intensity of his gaze. He studies you for a long moment. 

Wade seems uncharacteristically nervous and jittery. His fingers tap restlessly against the counter. His leg is bouncing and his gaze can’t seem to settle on any one thing for too long. “I like you,” he eventually says, so quietly that you almost convince yourself you misheard. “Like, like you, like you.”

“You had weeks to prepare, and that’s what you came up with?” Logan says snarkily, clearly unimpressed. He stands a short distance away with his arms crossed over his chest. 

“He likes you too, but he’s too grouchy to admit it.” Wade says for Logan; Logan promptly claws him in the arm. “Ow.” Wade says. The remark seems to be born out of instinct, rather than genuine pain. He sends Wolverine an inscrutable look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. 

“Well, I like you like you too,” you answer after a few seconds, a small smile on your face. “Both of you. If it’s true.” You add on, because Logan doesn’t seem particularly pleased. But he also doesn’t object to Wade’s statement, so it must be true. 

“Yay!” Wade interjects, promptly leaning over the counter and kissing you excitedly. His hands find the nape of your neck and he’s tugging you into him with a fierce grin. After a few moments, he breaks away and looks behind him—all without letting his hand fall from your face. “You gonna join us, buddy?” Wade asks. 

“I’m fine here,” Logan says with a smirk.

“Perv,” Wade remarks, before turning back to you. He kisses you enthusiastically, his hands falling to the collar of your shirt. 

“Jesus, Wade, don’t throw me over the counter.” You huff when you break apart, secretly worried that he’ll drag you halfway across the room. 

“Wolfie’ll catch ya, don’t worry.” Wade says with a grin. Is that supposed to be reassuring? He keeps kissing you, nearly tugging you over the counter again. At some point, you have to actually catch yourself from falling into the surface. 

“Just- Wait.” You say, not even thinking before jumping and sliding over the counter quickly. You’re standing next to him now. “Better?” You ask. 

Wade blinks once, twice. His lips are parted in surprise. You’re starting to feel self-conscious and embarrassed when he breaks through the tense silence. “That was hot.” Wade says. You scoff disbelievingly and Wade turns to look at Logan, as if hearing him do something. “And I think Claws over there agrees.” He points out. 

Before you can even process what’s happening, Logan is standing in front of you, backing you into the bar counter and kissing you. And even through the nearly overwhelming sensations—one of his hands on your hip, the other boxing you in; the tangible weight of his muscled forearm as you grasp it—you can hear Wade cheering excitedly. It’s so stupid that you find yourself laughing, to the point where you have to take a breath. 

“Sorry, it’s just- Wade, what are you doing?” You laugh breathlessly, looking over at him. Logan’s hand remains on your hip even as he follows your gaze, glaring murderously at Wade.

“Just fanboying, don’t mind me.” He shrugs, sitting on one of the bar stools and kicking his feet. He looks very gleeful. “Y’all are so cute.” 

Logan rolls his eyes. “Get over here, Red Riding Hood.”

“Aw, then that makes you the Big Bad Wolf.” Wade remarks, skipping up to both of you. “Tumblr’s gonna eat this up. We should get T-shirts, or maybe-” Logan’s kissing him before he can continue speaking. 

You’re confident the three of you would stay there forever, if not for Dogpool’s unexpected interruption. She runs up to your legs and then jumps at Wade. Wade freezes and looks down at her with a gasp. “Her sweet virgin eyes!” He exclaims, bending down to pick her up. “Poor baby. I’m sorry you had to see that.” 

“Not sure if she’s a virgin anymore, after what she was doing to my leg earlier.” You mutter quietly, crossing your arms over your chest.

Logan overhears in his proximity and laughs. That may be the first time you’ve ever heard him express such genuine amusement. It must be a rare sight, because Wade is also looking at him in surprise. 

“So you can laugh,” Wade says, pretty much pouting. He’s still holding Dogpool in his arms, and he’s bouncing her up and down as if she’s a baby. “You don’t laugh at things I say.” He frowns. 

“Because you’re not funny.” Logan responds with a shit-eating grin. 

“Hmph.” Wade is dejected for all of ten seconds, until Dogpool promptly licks his face and you all abandon the argument to laugh.

©2025, @defectivevillain | @defectivehero, All Rights Reserved. Reblogs are greatly appreciated—just don't steal or share outside of Tumblr, please.

endnotes:

Me: Would Deadpool say ‘adios’? @connorhasabigtip, my bestie: Yeah, he’d say it unironically because he’s a little slut. Me: *laughing my ass off*

I formatted this in between rounds of Squid Game on Roblox… and I think that’s what Wade would’ve wanted.

I looked up pictures of Joe’s Diner and was like, hm, they don’t have a bar + the counter’s too high and filled with stuff. Then I decided I didn’t care, ‘cause this is fiction. If I want to slide over a bar counter, then I’m sliding over a bar counter, physics be damned.

“It’s hard to take you seriously wearing that mask,” is a Dance Moms reference, bahaha (“Jill is yelling and screaming, and all I can think is, ‘It’s so hard to take you seriously wearing that hat.’”)

thanks for reading! <3

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[drvscarlett]

About You Pt 21

Sebastian Vettel x Webber!Reader

Summary: Everyone knows about the history of Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber. But there's a well kept story within the paddock about Sebastian Vettel and another Webber. This is that story.

A/N: our final chapter! thank you so much for reading this series. will be now working on jenson's fic and maybe an about you special chapter if you folks like that??? hehe enjoy

About You Series

2019, Suzuka Circuit

Mark watched the couple have a table for themselves. The body language alone could talk about how delighted Sebastian was and how comfortable Y/N is back in his presence. He smiled as he sips his cup of coffee.

"Uncle Mark, who is the pretty girl?" Margarette asked.

The little girl didn't stop asking question after recognizing Y/N as the girl who saved her from getting lost in Singapore. It took a lot of begging for her to part ways with Y/N so she could talk to Sebastian privately. Mark smiles thinking how Sebastian doesn't seem to be the only Vettel that Y/N charmed now.

"My sister and your Papa's..." Mark answers and he debates how to answer Sebastian's relationship with Y/N "bestfriend, your Papa's bestfriend"

Margarette's eyes widened in surprise, "if that is Papa's bestfriend then why don't I see her a lot?"

"Its complicated"Mark sips his coffee again to hide his nervousness.

"Compwicayed?"

The confused look in her face seems to signal to Mark that its the first time that she encountered the word. Mark tried to wrack his mind a way to explain the situation to the kid.

"You'll get it when you get older"Mark assures.

"But Y/N should come visit me more often if he is Papa's bestfriend" Margarette insists.

"I sure hope so"

Back at the other table, the conversation seems to be more quiet as if they were both not sure which part should they talk about first. After so many years of waiting for each other, they just felt speechless because this moment seems unreal. Sebastian feels like any second now, the alarm would ring and everything will fade away.

"All those years? You were just here in Japan?"Sebastian could not believe it.

She nods with a shy smile on her face.

"The community is well nice here. A good rehab to help me walk again. People here respects privacy" she enumerates.

"And since when did you start walking again?"

"I think spring of 2017"Y/N recalls "It was not easy to walk again and it really was more of a mental strength issue.."

Her right hand fiddles with the necklace, a habit that she never outgrew. Sebastian finds comfort that there may be some changes in her life but she is still the same old girl that he met years ago.

His eyes trailed at the pendant on the necklace and that's when Sebastian noticed the familiar piece.

"You kept it?"

"Why would I throw it away?" she asked

"I thought you hated me" Sebastian knew that he deserves to be hated for everything he said that night.

"And I thought you hated me"she rebuts.

The driver immediately shakes his head sideways. There is a higher chance that he would hate himself before hating Y/N. It was frankly impossible for Y/N to do anything to make him hate her.

"I searched for you ever since I went back to my senses that I said some hurtful things that I didn't mean that night" Sebastian held her free hand.

The feeling of holding her hand again just felt right.

"I wanted to hold your hand again and we will go to your rehab sessions. I wanted to pick you up when you fall. I wanted to cheer you on when you take your steps again. But I wasn't there because my stupid words created a wedge between us" he continues.

There were tears on her eyes. Sebastian doesn't know it but she remembers all those times where she suffered alone. She didn't have anyone, just strangers or staffs in the hospitals. Maybe she have tried to imagine Sebastian being there for her as well during that time.

"But I'm not going to let you walk alone again, I'm here to stay. I promised myself to be a better man when you come back so you don't have to leave again. I promised that while you rebuild yourself, I will also do that so that when the time comes and we meet again, we can get a shot at this." Sebastian's words were determined and sincere.

Y/N looks at him hopefully. However, her eyes found the figure of little Margarette and remember the dilemma that she may put her through.

"What about Hana and..." she whispers "Margarette?"

"We're coparenting and Hana has long moved on with a guy in Switzerland name is Connor and they are pretty serious" Sebastian updates.

She nods in understanding.

"But Margarette, I can't let go of her" Sebastian admits "She is my world ever since we got seperated"

This time, Y/N's hand other hand found its way on top of Sebastian's. It was like a gentle way of her assuring that she wouldn't ask for that.

"I would never ask to seperate the two of you" she states "if you would have me then I would like to not just get to know you again but get to know Margarette as well"

It brings tears of happiness in Sebastian's eyes. It was like everything was finally falling back to places. Even if it took so long to happen, he was so glad that it was happening.

"We'll be okay?"

And Y/N nods.

2019, Interlagos

F1Gossips In a surprise turn of events, Sebastian Vettel reunites with Y/N Webber as they arrive together for media day

User11 MY PARENTS!!!!

User7 everybody stay calm, whats the procedure!!! User8 no one is calm, we have prayed for this for years

User9 they look so happy

User18 ikr, even if seb has a bad car, he smiles like he is a world champion here User17 and lets talk about how i was so happy to see Y/N again

User81 was there! and i saw her and i couldnt believe my eyes!

User5 she is so brave and she is so strong. we hope she feels the warm support

Webber Returns for an Australian driver

The paddock was buzzing with excitement as news spread around the return of the infamous Y/N Webber to the public eye. After disappearing for several years, she walks to the free practice of Interlagos with a rising australian driver, Oscar Piastri.

She confirms in an interview that she will be back to work with her brother Mark, who is currently Piastri's manager. After the successful win of Piastri in Eurocup last October, Y/N announced Piastri is now moving up to Formula 3 in 2020. The reason for their presence in Interlagos is purely out of the invitation of the Renault garage but she states its a way to motivate Piastri to find his direction.

"It won't be difficult to move Oscar up. I definitely think that in a few years or so then he would be competing here in Interlagos with the rest of the Formula 1 drivers" states Y/N.

When asked about her personal life, Y/N redirects focus towards Piastri's growing career. However, the clear joy from some of the old drivers have been evident with her return. Lewis Hamilton described that "it was nice to have an old friend back in the paddock" and Y/N has been photographed with the Mercedes driver together with Scuderia Ferrari's Sebastian Vettel in several free practice pictures.

2019, Yas Marina Circuit

When Sebastian called asking that he needs help and he sent a location for a very expensive jewelry shop, Mark almost had a heart attack. He probably broke all the speed limits just to get to the store at a records time and prepared his fist to strangle the German driver.

"Where is that piece of shit?" he shouts as he opens the door.

A startled Sebastian rises from one of the waiting area chairs.

"Do you have to be so angry?" Sebastian complained.

Mark tried his best to calm himself down. Thinking happy thoughts and world peace before he says his next few words.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Mark asked slowly "Why are you buying a ring?"

It was now Sebastian's turn to look at Mark as if he was crazy. Mark just kept his harsh glare towards Sebastian and it was like they were transported to those years when they were crashing with each other in Red Bull.

"Did you get her pregnant? I swear to God sebastian, I'm going to kill you right here and right now" Mark threatens.

"What? No!"

"Then why the hell are you buying a ring?"

"Because I love her"

Suddenly the buzzing of the shop suddenly goes quiet with the declaration of love of Sebastian. Mark's glare softened with the realization that maybe he overreacted and overthinked the whole thing.

"You thought" Sebastian catches on "That I'm proposing because I got her pregnant? Do you really think I will just marry her out of obligation?"

"Hey, its my job as a brother to overthink that all men are never good enough for my sister" Mark defended himself.

Sebastian shakes his head in disbelief

"Just help me pick out, I need your opinion because maybe the stuffs she liked changed over time" Sebastian went back to the original dilemma that he called Mark for.

Laid out in front of them were different cuts of diamonds in different designs. Sebastian was torn whether to pick something simple stone or should it be an extravagant as a marquise.

"They told me that I should give her something heirloom since its just an engagement ring but then I told them I already gave them that ring years before as a promise so this has to be different..."

While Sebastian is ranting, Mark was trying his best not to show emotions. He was reeling back to moments of a younger Y/N who wished to have her very own prince charming and now here she was about to be swept away by his former teammate.

"The oval one with the pretty blue diamonds all over it"Mark pointed out.

"Yeah, that was like the necklace I gave her for her birthday" Sebastian picks it up delicately "You think she will like it?"

"She would love it"

"Okay please ring this up and charge me" Sebastian instructs one of the sales assistant present.

Mark couldn't believe what was happening. A part of him was overjoyed to be included in the ring picking but there was this other part that knows that he will have to give her away.

"I thought you two are taking things slow?" Mark wondered.

"That we are but I just want to be ready" Sebastian agrees.

"Ready?"

Sebastian runs a hand over his hair, a sheepish smile on his face. It was the same kind of smile that he has whenever he talks about Y/N. Mark doesn't know how he missed it all these years.

"We waited for each other to be better version of ourselves. We gave each other time and now we meet again. We have some catch up to do and so but after that I feel like its just a few months before we level up this relationship" Sebastian explains.

Mark nods in understanding

"I'm really serious about her, Mark. I know I have been very stupid before but I have grown and I have learned. I'm not hurting her or even losing her ever again"

There was something that made Mark resign and give him the complete sign of approval. He knows how much Y/N have also loved Sebastian and maybe it was about time for Y/N to make her own family with him.

"Just take good care of her, she deserves good things"

"That's what I intend to promise her when I marry her" Sebastian assures.

2020, Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya

A group of drivers were huddled up in a room and they were all engaged in a very serious conversation. One may think that this was a grid meeting but it seems like it was all centered to the whiteboard with the messy writing "how will Seb propose?".

Sebastian was actually quite desperate to ask help and initially he sent the message to the groupchat he had with Charles and Mick. However, he wasn't particularly tech savvy so it was sent to the grid group chat.

With everyone finding out the information, everyone is pitching in their ideas.

"I know, you should set up a picnic and then propose to her while eating" Daniel suggested.

"And then a bee or a wasp will invade their space and it will ruin the whole thing" Kimi countered.

"What about a stargazing" Charles pitched in "And then you get this telescope and then she looks at it then you get on one knee and when she looks back at you she is surprised"

"That's actually a good idea" the room murmurs in agreement.

"But what if there are no stars?" Sebastian worriedly asked.

So there goes the stargazing idea scratched out in the perfect proposal plan.

"Just propose to her at a Grand Prix" Lewis suggested "We're always in a Grand Prix"

"But its too much attention and I'm sure they want this to be intimate" the young Max Verstappen voiced out.

"But isn't it romantic to have a grand gesture at the place where their love story revolved?" Carlos backed up Lewis' suggestion.

The Red Bull driver shrugged in response.

"I think the best way of proposing would be in your flat or when you are feeling domestic, its a moment for you two and its going to give you a more real speech without all the fanfares and pressure" Max explained.

Charles shakes his head violently.

"No, you see this is why romance is dead." Charles argues.

The whole room was chaotic and ideas were pitched left and right. Sebastian felt like banging his head to the table but the heaviness of the box in his pocket is much more heavier.

"I still can't believe you didn't try to propose during the holidays" George exclaimed "That would have been perfect and no fuss at all"

"He tried to but then he got food poisoning during Christmas and flights got cancelled for New Year" Mick retells the unfortunate story.

"Maybe its the universe way of telling you that its not the right time"Sergio joked.

It immediately earned him a kick for his chair from Charles and Mick.

"We have waited for this for years so don't jinx it" Charles whined.

Their whole meeting was interrupted by a knock, a steward announced that the testing will commence in 10 minutes so they should be back to their garages.

"Don't worry Seb, we will help you out on this" Kimi patted his former teammate's back.

"Consider my suggestion" Max insists.

2020, somewhere in Japan

Usually its already halfway through the season already but June rolls in without any races. The whole world seems to stop because of the pandemic and its something very frustrating for most. However, here in Japan, Sebastian and Y/N were locked down since March and somehow they are enjoying the domesticity of life.

"Isn't it my shift today to cook?" Sebastian asked as he saunters to the kitchen.

The smell of a freshly cooked breakfast made him smile. He is still getting used how lucky he was that he gets to wake up with this kind of view.

"It was but you had a long round of meetings last night so I figured I'll do the cooking today" Y/N smiled.

Sebastian hugs her from behind and clings to her as she cooks.

"How was your meeting last night?"she wonders.

"Ehh could have been an email" Sebastian shrugs "And maybe I need to get back in shape to race for July"

Worry flashes across her face and it was not missed by Sebastian. She knows how much he misses racing but she wanted him healthy and safe.

"July, isn't that too soon? Is it safe?" she questioned.

"Relax" Sebastian assures "They are making sure that they are going to lessen the risk and the crowds. Its still up for negotiation"

"I supposed if Formula 1 is coming back then maybe Formula 3 is also going to follow soon" she sighs.

"Our vacation is ending" Sebastian jokes.

Y/N turns off the stove and faces Sebastian. She returns his embrace and stayed in that hug as if a bubble protecting her from whatever is happening in the outside world.

"I just want to stay like this forever" she mutters.

She knows its quite an awful statement. Some people have a hard time and they have to go back to their old lives soon. However, for the two of them, it was the break and the catching up that they needed.

Little did she know, these past few months seem to be Sebastian's vision of the future. It was something that perhaps what he looks forward to retirement.

"We can stay like this forever" Sebastian agrees "Just domestic life, farming, cooking, reading"

"I still have to work for Oscar" she reminds.

"Then you can work for Oscar and then we will be following you around" Sebastian smiles.

"What?" she laughs "You mean to tell me you won't be racing?"

It feels weird for Sebastian to reach that realization that he may have to retire some time soon. He loved what he did but he thinks its time for him to take on a new role and just enjoy life in a slower pace.

"I wanna quit racing and I wanna marry you" Sebastian finally makes the statement.

Y/N looks at him as if he misspoke something but Sebastian pulls out the box. He carries it everywhere with him just incase he decides its the perfect time to propose. He has been carrying it with him ever since this pandemic started because it was only during that time that he realized that moments are fleeting. If the opportunity exist then go and seize it.

Maybe this isn't in a fancy place to ask for marriage or maybe its not too publicized but this is the moment he has been waiting for. He would be a total idiot to lose it again.

"You are the love of my life that I have waited for a very long time now" Sebastian goes down on his knees and opening box "I have already achieved a lot of stuffs and won my fair share of championship or podiums. I achieved most of my dreams already and now I want to focus on my dreams of spending life with you. If you would have me then I would like more peaceful mornings like this one. I want to be that person that you come home after a long day at work. I want you and Margarette in those spontaneous grocery trips or the midnight snacks. I see you being a part of my life for as long as I live so if you will have me then I promise to be the best husband you could ask for"

The whole speech was not prepared. Even if Sebastian has visualized this speech for a while now, he seems to be underprepared and spewing out nonsense. He could only hope to hear a positive response for her.

"You are an idiot proposing to me in our kitchen" she finally says

A breath of relief rushes over Sebastian. He stands up to wipe her tears away and places the ring on her finger.

"Hey, I haven't said yes yet!" she jokes.

"I don't see you saying no"

2021, Spain

F1Gossips This year's silly season seems to be pointing in Spain. Drivers both current and former were spotted in their suits in a church in Spain.

User6 who is getting married???

User7 MARRIED???? User9 is jenson making poor choices again lol User10 thats just mean.

User5 i dont see pictures of sebastian here. thats weird, that's suspicious

User19 maybe he wasnt invited User55 lmao, why would they not invite seb?? User3 what if its seb's wedding User15 time to take your delulu pills User3

User13 let me innn, i wanna know who's marriage is this that got everyone in the new grid and old grid in.

User17 can drive to survive cover this event??

Y/NPrivate we waited for so long for this moment to happen. i still can't believe that i get to marry my first love. this relationship was a rollercoaster and we have spent years before coming to terms about our feelings. all i can say is everything is worth it because now i am building a family with you. thank you for bringing joy into my life. thank you for waiting for us to be the healed version of ourselves. and like i said, i'll be yours for eternity. kisses

CharlesLeclerc i swear i just finished crying and now i am crying again??!!

Y/NPrivate you always cry with ferrari -seb CharlesLeclerc you better watch out!! Y/NPrivate what are they gonna do fire me? i mean they already picked a replacement for me so they don't scare me -seb CharlesLeclerc Y/N YOUR HUSBAND IS RUDE, GET HIM OFF YOUR ACCOUNT Y/NPrivate its a conjugal account now hahaha

MickSchumacher papa would have been so happy to see his two favorite people finally get together

Y/NPrivate we wish he was there to see us

JensonButton im really happy for you Y/N, seb you know the rest mate

Y/NPrivate thanks Jenson, seb also sends his gratitude. PS we got to chat soon about the girl you are seeing JensonButton whatttt thats crazyyyyyy how did you know that Y/NPrivate duh i have eyes -seb JensonButton make your own instagram account seb!

Hanna_Prater its a very lovely wedding, thank you for inviting us!!

Y/NPrivate thank you for designing the venue, i really love it hanna! Hanna_Prater were coparents so only the best for you! Y/NPrivate love u hanna! sending my regards to connor as well

[silkenwinger]

lightning crashes

yellowjackets lite, post plane crash (and post getting shot) johnny soap mactavish x reader.

part three. read on ao3

You watch them disappear into the dark wood, Oliver heading the group with the other two flanking him. The forest swallows them whole after a few moments. 

The remaining people at camp keep doing their tasks, this weird normalcy among the abnormal recent events of your lives. Carving out a good piece of wood, to make a bowl, a spoon or a figurine, like the ones in grandmother’s house. Cleaning the fish from any bones, stringing apart the lean meat until only fine strings remain. Obsessively stoking the fire, fearing its quenching like the vestals of old Rome. And cleaning the weapons, even more than once a day. 

You watch Johnny use the thin rod to clean the barrel with an ease given by his experience. While indeed spartan, the previous owner of the house you’re squatting in right now at least knew something about guns, and kept a wide range of accessories to clean them. Solvents and brushes almost outnumbered the amount of food supplies in the cupboard, which was very demoralizing to a starving you when you opened it. Thankfully you know someone who can make use of them.

Johnny sits removed from the group, but not too far, gun pointed towards the void as he works. It’s like a ritual for him: a moment of peace from the nervous chatter, the petulant snipes, the despair in the eyes of others. His head hurts at times too, ghosts of war peeking their way through– he’s good at hiding the pain, but you’ve been attached to the hip for so long now you’ve picked up a lot of his microexpressions. Still, he looks peaceful now, back to you, straight but relaxed, never hunching. It’s now more than ever that he registers as a different entity than the rest of you: a warrior among plebs. For all his joking and protectiveness, you can catch a glimpse of his true nature under the mask. A chaser, someone who stays put the way a lynx waits for its prey. Not a bystander. His reasons for not spearheading the mission-like expedition must run deeper than five scary minutes in the forest.

For the rest of the morning you do little. Check the rudimentary traps close to the cabin (empty, all of them), try to tend to your hair as you can in a small moment of vanity that ends when you remember the remaining shampoo is so little, the less you touch your hair with your hands the less it gets dirty. In the afternoon, you sneak out, almost like a teenager leaving their room on the sly, to do something. Anything. Once the first, unending period of fear ended, and once the hope diminished, as well, boredom started sitting on your bones. On everyone’s, you think. So you keep yourself sane by walking, and doing stuff with your hands. If you find food, even better. There comes a time when hunger is so strong and powerful your limbs can’t move, and you don’t want to reach that point. Ever. 

You make your way through a patch of woods where you’ve previously found some mushrooms (still unidentified, but that you dried and put in a container just in case), the opposite side of where the trio went. Sniffling, you look beneath the plants for any similar luck, moving stems and branches away: but you find only mud and moss. You run your hand on the bark of a fallen tree full of the latter, the touch pleasing and soft. If you close your eyes, and try really really hard, you can visualize the texture of a couch, or a velvet chair, your home or another one. You store the thought in the corner of your mind where the hope resides.

More rustling and checking among the shrubs, and you finally find something worth your time: a bush of blackberries. Exhaling a breath of joyful surprise, you start to pick as many fruit as you possibly can, knees propped on the damp ground. The blackberries are smaller than commercial ones, of course– and you hope their seeds aren’t too big, but beggars can’t be choosers. Halfway through, though, you reckon you probably shouldn’t pick them all in a sitting. Patience and restraint are the key to surviving hardships, and gobbling a new resource the day you found it just feels wasteful. Plus, you will have to share with the others.

At the very start, some had argued everyone should hunt and gather their own food. The extremely individualistic idea never went anywhere: there wasn’t a weapon for everyone, and hunting could also be fruitless for days. At the end, re establishing a minimum of social structure among strangers was the chosen way of living. Everyone contributed with what they could do: and if they didn’t know how to do anything, they learnt from someone who could. You’d taught Martha and a few others the basics of foraging, and a few ways to store food (even though the resources’ limitations made it a challenge). Johnny had taught some not only how to shoot but also how to hunt. When asked about it, he said it just came naturally to him, and there was little difference for him in hunting a stag from hunting a man inside a forest.

Making sure to hold the bag carefully so you don’t smash any fruit inside, you start to make your way out of the woods. There are two landmarks you’ve kept in mind: the fallen tree covered by moss and a big rock just at the start of where the woods start to clear. The sun is still out, but evening falls quite fast here: the moment the sun starts to go down, it’s only half an hour before the sky becomes dark enough not to see further than your feet. You grab a couple of blackberries to munch on as you walk back. 

When you reach the camp again, everyone is huddling around the fire. You can’t see Johnny, though, and it sends an unpleasant spark up your back.

“How’s Aurora?” You ask Martha.

“Way better. Stood up and had a walk before. Where were you?” She asks, tone curious. The light of the fire makes her blonde hair look a lovely amber shade.

The loud, sharp noise of something slamming almost makes your soul leave your body.

“Bonnie! Where the hell were ya!” Shouts Johnny, who apparently was just inside the cabin. You release a breath, and scanning his body, you notice he changed from the morning. He’s wearing that one black sleeveless shirt… Around his neck hang his binoculars, lenses shining. You'd always find it peculiar, how he just had those in his baggage, but after all there's a lot you don't know about him. Maybe he was checking for Oliver and the others?

“I found these,” you tell the group showing them the blackberries. There’s a collective “woo” and “nice”. Johnny leaves the doorstep, and the view of him immediately reaching for you flips your stomach. You smile at him while he walks right next to you, his face pointing towards your bag.

“Want some?” You ask him with a smile, tilting the sachet towards him. Eyes pointed towards the inside, he brushes his arms against yours as he picks a blackberry, fingers almost too big in comparison to the small spheres. He throws one in his mouth with a fluid gesture, and smugly smiles at your slightly impressed expression while he chews.

“Where exactly did you find them?”

“A little past that bit,” you answer, pointing to where you came from.

He hums. Johnny is not the type to pick plants (he could if he needed, but why do it when there’s other people who only know how to do that?) so you don’t know what he will do with that, but if it helps him organize his mental palace, who are you to deny him the information?

You spend the evening sitting at the fire with the others. Everyone gets their share of blackberries, and in return you get some edible flowers and a bit of fish. You would still be starving in normal circumstances, and you do feel a small, almost imperceptible ping; but your stomach and expectations have been restrained, changed, and you don’t suffer as much as you did the first days. 

“And I remember thinking a month or so after, “I should have just gone ahead and told on him”, but in hindsight, everything is easier,” Martha finishes her story, legs crossed. You nod, sipping on water. You brush your knee against Johnny’s almost by accident, almost on purpose. While his eyes were distracted and unfocused a second ago, they seem keenly sharp now as they watch you.

“Should we try planting the little fruit seeds?” Asks Joon, an enthusiastic, if not a bit clueless young man.

“Are you saying we should play farmers? I want to be out of here before the plant can bloom,” mutters Luca, another survivor.

People say their own piece about trying to cultivate, and whether it’s a useless waste of energy, especially now that autumn approaches. 

Meanwhile, Johnny keeps staring at you. It would be uncomfortable in any other situation, you think, a man just keeping his full attention on you. Almost stifling. You look away first, not out of proper embarrassment, but more out of common courtesy towards the people around you. Johnny is far from done, though.

He makes his move when you’re all laughing from a witty banter between Martha and Henry. You can’t even move away from where you’re leaning against his body that he scoops you up in his arms to put you on his lap. You’re so startled and still chuckling that you almost fall face forward in the fireplace, but he grabs you by the neck of the shirt and pulls you against his chest. Breathless, you turn to see his face filled with so much tenderness it sobers you quickly. 

You’ve been feeling so alone. He makes everything better: not only surviving in a physical sense but also mentally, spiritually. Both a tether to the world you come from and a sure thing in hard times like this.

You’re not going away without him.

Linking your arms around his neck, you settle your body so that you can face the others. Your face is on fire, you can feel the blood pooling over; but to your surprise, no one is staring at you and Johnny, like you being in his lap is no big thing.

You run your nails against his arm as another banter session starts.

It must have been an hour outside when it starts to drizzle, little raindrops shifting to bigger ones. Everyone rushes to put most things inside– when it rains, it rains hard, and no one wants their clothes or food spoiled by water of all things. You slide off Johnny’s lap remorsefully and as an apology you pet his hair, almost like you would a cat. He leans happily into it for the one second it lasts.

A brief question strikes your mind– what about Oliver and company? But by yourself you reason they’ll be covered by the high trees.

A thunder wakes you during the night, flash of lighting appearing on the darkness of your eyelid. It’s still raining, heavy water passing through the rudimentary gutters and no doubt flooding the outside corners of the cabin. Beneath the sound of the rain, though, you hear the door opening and closing softly. That wakes you completely. Who in their right mind goes outside with this weather? You think it could be someone who has to go about their business and doesn't want to wake up everyone using the (rudimentary as well) toilet. But still, you will try to wait for them to come back. 

You wait. Still, they do not come back inside. You’re starting to worry now, and even if the rain has ceased to fall as hard as before, you worry they might have fainted or lost their way. You get up and avoid the sleeping bodies on the ground to grab the holy, almost untouchable flashlight on the table. It’s supposed to be used only on emergencies, and the grand council, now attended by just you, has decided this counts as one.

You light it up as you’re near to the window to try and look out of it, but it’s too small to really catch more than what is just outside. You cross over to the door and open it, not yet closing it back as you try to look in front of you. When you hear a sleepy mumble lamenting the cold, you close it behind you. Walking right next to the cabin, hand on the wall to guide you, you keep pointing the flashlight towards the forest, but you can’t see anyone. Starting from the ground, you make several horizontal swipes, trying to catch as much as you can. You circle the whole house, becoming more and more anxious and alert to any and every sound, but you can’t hear anything but the remaining trickling of water. Turning the last corner of the cabin, your light painting finally illuminates a back, and the rush of panic that runs through is so pure it’s a wonder you don’t scream. It’s extinguished in a second, though.

“Johnny! What the fuck are you doing outside?!” You whisper yell to him, and if he’s surprised, he has no external reaction. He turns to look at you as if he was watching a match on tv and not the dark forest at night as it rains. Like this is a very normal thing to do. And God, he’s soaked! Isn’t he cold?

“Thought I would check if they were back on their way,” he says simply, and you almost make a sad, cooing sound in empathy. It’s weird, though. You could have sworn he didn’t really care about them. And it’s been less than a day. Whatever could they have accomplished, even walking for hours? But tired as you are, you don’t really vocalize all of that.

“I’m sure they’re fine,” you sigh, “and they don’t want you getting ill for them. Come inside,” you plead.

He grins a bit too wide.

“Sure thing, love.”

Days pass. There’s this push and pull with Johnny, your own will-they-won’t-they skewing decisively towards will-they, but you’re somehow pushing it back, too. Besides his weird surveillance methods, Johnny is still flirty and touchy-feely, and you’re crushing so hard on him you just want him to not fall sick over worry. You’d like to have a really private moment with him, too, but it’s not happening. Not as the nights pass and there’s no sign of the three men that left, and everyone is growing extremely jumpy and scared.

And the paranoia only erupts when you find George’s ratty shirt by the river one morning.

[sunlessea]

for all he had never envisioned himself in this position : he takes to it eagerly, if only for such strong desire to please the bat that hovers so high over him any time it lifts itself up 'pon its arms to gaze down at him. he feels small 'tween its thighs like this, face buried in between its legs as he swallows down lick after lick of its arousal clinging to his tongue. it's so wet, he can hardly take a moment to feel shocked at how desperate it presents itself, too busy moaning flush 'gainst its pussy each time he licks hard up inside of it, only for it to grind its hips down on his tongue and force him to swallow around it all over again. he's embarrassed, certainly, and out of depth, but there's no denying how eager he is to make it feel good, as the strength and speed of his laps start to grow, taking his time tasting its cunt 'fore he'd pull back for even a moment. and even then, he'll drag his tongue up to its clit, suck on its pussy, and curl his fingers deep 'gainst that sensitive spot he can feel inside it, 'til his tongue returns proper.

he is not strong in the slightest, 'sides what meager strength vampirism had spared him. more than a human, certainly, but not anything in comparison to a curator : even still, he holds its hips in a death grip to try keeping it pinned down, occasionally having to use his body weight in full to make sure it doesn't squirm too hard. it's all in good fun, at any rate ... every time it jerks 'round, it just grinds against his tongue, and leaves him eagerly panting until he yanks it back up or down onto his mouth. its arousal is making a mess of him, just as well as the floor 'neath them, but then again, so is his drool, and all the strings that connect his lips to its pussy any time the two of them separate.

he loves this. fuck, he really loves this. his body is flushed pink, breath ragged, voice pathetic each time he moans around it. it's not like this is anything new. he gets this way, always, when he's put into positions like this, however much he'd tried to hide it - he'd always jumped at the opportunity to get on his knees for it and swallow 'round its cock in its office. so dutiful an employee he's always been, he'd even tuck himself under its desk and let it push his head down to cum into his throat while it discussed business with someone on the other side. but he'd catch it then, too, each thin crack in its voice when it'd be speaking to company, or the rising desperation that left it throwing him down to ravage the moment they were alone again. and that had been simple! like this, it's so ... animated. he thinks he catches even its wings twitching -

... he seriously can't take watching it get off on him. it's hot.

"n - neculai ... !" he breaks 'way from it however briefly with pleasured groan, its heel pressing 'gainst his back making heat rush up his body. every part of him feels just as sensitive as when it'd pinned him down to fuck him. he adores this feeling, just the desire that inherently builds 'tween them when it clearly wants him. hearing it cry out is so deeply erotic, and he can't help but give it exactly what he wants, letting his fingers thrust hard inside of it to push 'gainst its walls, curling harsh inside its pussy before dragging out. the more animated it gets, wings flapping with anticipation, the harder he fingers it, 'til he can't help but bow down again and muffle his own moans against its pussy again. he is not gentle anymore, with nails digging into its fur to keep it pressed flush 'gainst his mouth. he can feel its pussy squeezing around his fingers, edging them on, and he is compliant, rubbing deep inside of it whilst his tongue drags up to its beautifully swollen clit in continuous, fast laps.

he'd have swallowed its cum and kept going, if it'd ever given him the chance...! he should've known, really, how impatient it would still be, even with the roles of their positions inversed. he whines when its claws find themselves tangled in his hair, and before he gets time to even be curious, he cries out a little too loudly at how harshly it pulls his head up, tears pricking at his eyes, with a blush all the way down his neck. he makes eye contact with it, dazed and messy, arousal and drool alike trailing his lips and chin. the waver in his expression, then, is only partially for feeling embarrassed ... the rest is just how badly he wants it, in any way it'll have him.

he'd be lying if he tried to say he hadn't taken any second at all to steel himself ... but the truth is - his cock is so hard, the ache so unbearable, he couldn't even wait for his mind to catch up with his heart anyways. it hardly falls back before he re-situates himself between its legs, looping an arm under one of its legs to lift it up onto his shoulder. this way, he's able to nudge its body so that it shifts to laying on its side, allowing him to take position with a knee on either side of its other leg ... and take position directly 'tween its splayed thighs. his dick presses against its slit.

"it's fine. i'll be fine," he murmurs, only half for himself, as he glances up at it. his expression betrays that he's humiliated, and nervous 'neath the desire of it all. but he isn't so pathetic he can't do this, no matter how embarrassed he may be. at the end of it all, when he'd shifted through his emotions and confusion ... he thinks the real problem is just that he's shy. "although, since you offered to beg for it..." his eyes retain a bit of his humorous light, no matter how quickly his heart's racing with nerves.

he pushes its leg forward with his body, letting it press 'gainst his chest so he can hold it closer as he takes hold of its hip with the other. like this, he positions the tip of his cock to part its pussy for him as he slowly grinds forward along it. the sheer wetness of it makes him shiver, and he has to swallow down a sound too lewd for the simplicity of the action, though his voice is rough. "this is what you want, isn't it? to get fucked hard by a human you're five times the size of. you like it like this, don't you? all that precum getting in your fur from watching me ... " it doesn't take him long to start grinding 'gainst its pussy proper, either, watching with heavy breaths as its juices coat his shaft, and how nicely its body shudders beneath him each time his length pushes far enough to brush over its clit. and it's so big, too, in comparison - perhaps it's more apt to say he thrusts against its clit. even without him pushing inside, its pussy all but wraps 'round him. "hh, go on, then," he's breathless, fangs grazing its fur 'long its leg as he uses it to keep himself from collapsing. his drool is hot down it, too, as he all but salivates for the eroticism of it all. his thrusts start to get a little faster, and a lot rougher, savoring each time the head of his dick slides over its wet entrance. he could just slam his cock into its cunt without any resistance at all, really.

"beg me to fuck your pussy, neculai."

it doesn't think it's been particularly subtle throughout any point of their relationship, when it comes to matters of its attraction—though this, possibly, might be the most egregious show of it. beyond days where it'd have him pressed flush wherever it found most fitting the moment, be it desk, or wall, or door, and beyond others where he'd had to scramble to hide himself 'neath the weight of its cloaks, claws curling into his hair in quiet demand where he'd had unceremoniously need hide in the small space left between its desk and thighs alike when professional company had decided interrupt their fun, it thinks it's never been quite as ... open, as it lay 'neath him now.

part of the blame could be put towards its oversensitivity, how even his most subtle motion has its entire body tense as it draws in each shaky breath through its teeth only to relax soon after with a pleasant shiver to follow, but they both know that's not the whole of it. or even half, had it be honest. only a small part, but with how alight it's body feels because of it, it's hardly going to complain.

and in similar notion, it hardly has the mind to criticize his more exploratory motions, how his fingers comb carefully through its dense fur to the flush skin beneath, curling over the curve of its thighs for sole purpose to pull it closer even as its body sparks and shudders with such overwhelming feelings of pure ecstasy. keeping its legs parted is a far more difficult endeavor than it could've anticipated, when it comes to how it arches against each slow, calculated lap of his tongue. it's so fixated on him, but it can hardly be at fault for that when he makes himself impossible to resist! the few moments it allows itself give in entirely to matters of sensation, head lolled back 'gainst the cool planetarium floor and eyes fluttering shut, every breath it takes comes more labored than the last, chest heaving in pitiful attempt to steady itself against the swell of heat that washes over it, again and again, leaving it equal parts delightfully dizzy as much as its body is left thrumming with a gentler vibration, a nagging shiver that only serves to excite it further.

" th— aah- th - there— there-! " his tongue feels good. even left with slow, drawn-out laps at first as his tongue draws over its slit over and over again, it doesn't mind needing to rock its hips against his mouth, doesn't mind how carefully it pushes him, heel pressed into the small of his back—he rewards its pleading, both what little it can verbalize and all its body begs him for, graciously and gratuitously, moans stifled with the next eager rock of its hips, heel digging a little further against his back 'til it can feel him pressed flush to its core, tongue pushed as far deep as he could reach. and oh, it's thrilled for it—

their difference in species is hardly an issue, here, much as one might suspect it be disappointed by how limited kine were to their anatomy, it finds him all the more exhilarating. he has to hold its hips down harder just to keep it squirming less, not that it makes that task any easier, but amidst that is how intensely focused it is on his eager desire to please it. it can feel how his tongue draws along its walls each time he licks deep inside its pussy, how each groan comes quieter the further he pushes himself against it, til it can feel even his nose pressed up 'gainst its overeager arousal.

and still, it wants more.

" i just— hhn ... " it could complain, if it really wanted to, when he lifts his head from 'tween its thighs just to tease it : and a small part of it really wants to, ears flicking in annoyance as much as they do in anticipation. but it's what it sees when it lifts its own head too to stare down at him : the playful squint, and the more subtle curl to his lips as he draws his tongue along them in what would be a futile attempt to clean the mess its made of him if it weren't so keenly aware the motion is as coy as the words out of his pretty mouth. still, the sight makes its own response trail off in loud and pitiful whine, ears pressing flat 'gainst its head where the rest of it quivers. the ache it feels is indescribable, precum steadily falling onto the soft fur of its abdomen with its cock left untouched, but no less painfully hard—and even that is nothing compared to the way its pussy throbs, desperate for the attention it was so long deprived.

" i — i just want you— " and that's the whole of it, really. more than anything, it loves him ; it savors the intimacy that comes with it, how its heart races so quickly with the aid of soft candlelight, and how everything he does only serves to excite it further. it could say a thousand sweet nothings, clearly spoken or gasped out 'tween moans it fails to swallow, but nothing it could say would ever be quite as concise as simply expressing just how much it craved for him. it's receptive, though, it feels his arm shift, and it does all its able to aid him, shifting just so to allow its thighs spread as far as they're able, its free leg curling neatly to try and grant him a little more space. not that he needs it, considering what space he steals from it!

it should've seen it coming, the moment he released its waist. its body falls tense in its fixation, familiar with the feeling of his fingers teasing along its lips, and yet it nearly lurches upright as he trails them down to its entrance with how easily all three slip inside of it at the faintest hint of pressure. " yes— a - aah-! yes—! " its cry is a little less tragic, then, so much as its made deeply erotic with how sharply its gasp is ripped from its throat, ears standing on end and wings harshly flapping 'gainst its sides. it's all attempt to steady itself, but between the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of it, and the continued laps of his tongue when he bows its head again to stimulate it twice over, steadying itself feels an equally futile effort. it feels so hot...!

to say it's desperate would be kind. it's something far stronger than, judging by how its body shakes—even each rock of its hips comes uneven, where it occasionally settles in one position to grind against his tongue and fingers like, with its moans breaking in frequently increasing volume. but that's hardly compared to how it struggles to reach for him. despite the disparity in their size, it still takes a good few swipes of its arm 'fore its able to tangle its claws in his hair, and despite his request, it still pulls him up a little too harshly—its arousal follows his lips in long, lewd strings, and its hardly the mind to linger on how exciting an image that leaves, when it shifts positions too. with him mostly parted from it, the next wriggle of its hips is only to help it sit up proper—or at least halfway—with claws kept entangled in his hair.

" i can't take it ... " its whimper is low, deep, and honestly ... rather whiny, too. especially when paired with how much its body is left shaking, left dizzy with its own pleasure. but it knows how it sounds, and it continues despite the way its voice shakes, pulling him closer by its grip in his hair. gentler, this time. " i need to feel you inside me, properly— " it huffs when it finally releases him, falling dramatically flat onto its back, all the while keeping its thighs parted for his sake. the request comes naturally in line with its fantasies, and though he said it needn't ask his permission ... they've never switched like this before. it only feels appropriate to bear some proper manner, no matter how weak or whiny its voice. " how much must i beg for you to fuck me? "

[libbys-braincell-loss]

I love you silly non plot related smg4 videos they could never make me hate you

[greatgoddyke]

time to make your choice only you can be the one

[catboy-jupiter]

I decided to do this with three sets of my OCs, because I was amused by how different their responses would be!

Little scenes/snippets under the cut! Was very excited to write some stuff for them, especially since the last one is from a setting I haven't thought much about in a while ₍^ >ヮ<^₎

The Knights ❀༊·˚ [scene: alive and well]

"That… Lucien…" Anish falters, eyes stinging as he looks away, takes a deep breath; and finally meets Lucien's eyes again. "You shouldn't be used to it! That's horrible. Your powers… They're incredible. I've always, always been so, so grateful that you developed them to help me. Why… Why would they scorn such a thing?!" He asks, more to the universe than to really get an answer.

"Because they think it makes me weak." Lucien replies, easy and nonchalant, as if he hadn't just shared that their former classmates almost killed him, only a few months after he moved out. Anish's hand shakes as he grips his sword tighter. "You weren't there to take the brunt of it anymore, so their target switched to me. Naturally." Then, he hums as he looks at this rapier, inspecting it closely.

Anish deflates immediately. If only he'd stayed… Then, Lucien wouldn't have had to go through that. He wouldn't have had to find him completely separate from all his peers, young and dumb and prejudiced and unwilling to see the value of a healer on the battlefield instead of on the sidelines, just waiting to patch them up.

"I'm sorry." He murmurs, closing the distance between them and resting his head on his shoulder. Lucien spares him a quick glance then looks back at his rapier; back and forth, back and forth, before he sheathes it with a sigh.

"You needn't be. Father took care of it. I'm alive and well, right?"

Anish stares at the deep cut, scarred, on Lucien's cheek. Thinks to his unrecognizable dead, dead eyes that only lit up when Lucien had recognized who'd invited him to their squad that day, finally prompting Anish to connect the dots. Alive? Yes. Well? Most certainly not. But he will try his best to keep that newly-rekindled spark alive.

"Yes. And I'm so grateful for that." He finally replies, closing his eyes and tucking his head closer into Lucien's neck.

He's so deep in his mind he doesn't notice the other's shiver and blush, nor the soft smile unravelling on his face.

Gossip Trio ❀༊·˚ [scene: unimpressed]

Met with Brittany's unblinking stare, Lowell shifts in place. "What." They bark out, arms crossed.

"So you realized what was going on. Stayed. Had a nasty fight before your break-up. Had other, healthier relationships… And you're still into the guy?"

"I am not into him. Not anymore."

"Yeah sure. You only don't drool every time he comes here to pester us because you'd never give him more ammunition for his huge ego."

Lowell huffs and looks away, but their eyes catch onto soft pink clothes, perfect blond curls and an innocent-looking smile that hides the man's sharpest edges. His soft laugh reaches his ears, like twinkling bells, or the clink of chains doing their best to keep someone captive. Lowell tries not to think about how much hotter he's always looked after they'd make out. They fail.

"Not into him." Brittany scoffs, and goes back to sucking on her lollipop and scrolling through her feed, utterly unimpressed. Those two are another level of messed up she hadn't seen even on her worst exes. Or on herself.

Mecha World ❀༊·˚ [scene: carefree smile]

The boy breathes deeply, staring at their bodies, grip firm on the blast gun in case they move a muscle. His breaths are the only one heard in the room, but he still keeps a close eye. The seconds pass, and they remain still, unmoving on the grass. Finally, he slowly lowers it until it points at the ground.

His frown remains as he turns around, clicking the safety back on and going back towards their car. Its auto-drive could take him back home, but it might also complicate things. Implicate him. So he just takes his bag, puts the gun inside it, checks for anything else of his and starts walking.

To his sister, beside whom he'll finally be able to relax. They won't be able to hurt her anymore. Or him. Or anyone else. They're just cooling corpses, now.

… He'd thought she was safe. He'd thought they'd focused it on him, that her smiles reflected how much more they loved her. He'd been grateful for it. He's so dumb. He needs to do better. He should've noticed sooner that they didn't have a name for her, either. But he can't change the past, and he's changed the future. She'll be able to have a carefree smile. He'll be able to relax. They'll choose their names themselves. They aren't controlled by their parents anymore.

#37 What would your character do if they discovered their sibling/friend was abused?

I know you all have amazing creative juices in you and some amazing characters. This prompt is just for you to have fun and to help you explore your Character in a different setting. I would LOVE to hear what your Characters would do.

[yanderespamton78]

the current state of the arg

sorry guys the art isnt arting D:

(btw if youre confused on why i drew turnip like that i was referencing the picrew he did ages ago bc idk it looked fun to draw anddd i dont like taking reference off real life images)

[moeblob]

Something really funny happened at work today and I was gonna actually draw it out (because I can't focus on comms after working which is a tragedy but I acknowledge it). But then I was too tired to actually draw it out so I scribbled this instead.

[cinnabeat]

literally what was the point of hiding brains face in the beginning

[qwortywarrior]

“Burn.”

[narwhalandchill]

ANYWAY now that ive gotten my firefly rant off my chest and on a more positive note about the story overall; i Really liked it!!!! and character-wise specifically the biggest surprise for me in a huge W way was actually acheron??

& given i was actually somewhat committed to pulling her anyway (well. initially as kafka replacement to pull my first lightning carry after losing 50-50 but. Well. she had mercy on me at the v last moment thank goodness 😭😭) so actually ending up liking her character this much just cemented that resolve for good too. cant wait for her!!! like i am still meh on her base design not bc its that bad by itself but simply bc seeles existence just cheapens it so much like. Why are they so similar. but its not bad lmao

anyway to her actual characterization. first of all. the VAs delivery omg yall beidous english voice is already one of my all time favorites in genshin and shes doing an amazing job as acheron like. she started talking and im just INSTANTLY warmed up to her just from that KDJSKDKJK i love love love her attitude and energy!!!!!

n personality wise too??? like ive seen others mention a similar sentiment but its just the way how. even after getting the warnings from now Two separate characters that shes up to no good. im just like. "nah id win" abt it SHSKDKSI like throughout the story she comes off as so damn likeable and grounded and realistically friendly (as in not like. too open n aligned w the player from the get-go to feel believable for the character as opposed to a plot contrivance) that i just. even if shes bad news im team acheron truly.

she has genuinely funny one liners too ??? like not necessarily jokes outright but the kinda comments she says are just . very realistic in that dry witty way that comes off as natural and entertaining shes so charming!!! i love her. the more contemplative stuff she says too

but also like. girl whats up w the ominous red text ily but are we cool 😭😭 and the whole shredding us into thin slices on first encounter in the dreamscape like. Ok uhhhhhhhh ik i said nah id win and team acheron forever but this is kinda. worrisome

BUT that just means im so fucking excited to see her go apeshit too lmao like. oh shes an emanator here to do murder and spread death? COOL i hope she has fun!!

(and ik i said firefly rant over but. what the actual hell is that post firefly merk dialogue option where the games like very heavy handedly implying ur supposed to be blaming ACHERON for "letting it happen" in some emotional frenzy???? bro what 💀💀 0/5 moment i would never. n even if she plausibly did im just. dude her being cold towards firefly is just a plus for me when the narrative has just railroaded the TB into being sooo charmed by her magical presence lmao i Liked that acheron was suspicious n cold)

overall Definitely wasnt expecting acheron to establish herself as such an instant favorite for sure but. shes here now and im v happy abt it im super looking forward to seeing those more dubious goals of her come to the forefront in the future like. im so curious about whats up w her and her memory and that red text and everything

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[catboyfurina]

.

[always-a-joyful-note]

@lady-merian Sorry for replying in post but....KNOW HIM??!?! YEAH I KNOW HIM!!!!

He is literally one of my favourite authors. The way I SCREAMED when after two or so years of silence we heard from him again (with relief that he was all right).

I strive to match his chaotic writing style, his balance of emotional beats and ridiculous humour, the way he looks at his plot and goes "actually, we need more threads," the way he blends genres of portal and time travel and gaslamp fantasy and westerns and and and.....and also the way he shows his love for literary mythos (he has done his RESEARCH) with not just fairy tales and myths but also childrens lit and gothic fiction (the jekyll and hyde short story!!! the hints of dracula we're going to get in the next crockett and crane book).

Seriously, I love how he will make you cry with laughter and then actually just cry, but also how despite how heavy his books can get plot-wise, there's such a thread of lightness and fun even during the darker moments. Also absolutely obsessed with how all his characters will commit theft, arson, crimes against the time stream continuum and multiverse, and still believe they're the most sane of their group.

Sorry, this got a little rambly but I really love KRS.