#like it already happened once may as well go for it

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

Sorry if you've already covered this, but I was scrolling socials and saw that the San Antonio zoo got a large donation to expand their savanna habitat. The only thing that jarred me as I read through their expansion plans was apparently they're going to be outfitting some 'safari' vehicles so guests can be taken into the habitat to feed and interact with the animals (from within the vehicle). I was always under the impression that this kind of interaction wasn't necessarily good for either the humans or the animals-- is there a way it can be done ethically?? Anyway, I just thought it was interesting!

Ooo, okay, your question aligned with a thing I've been chewing on for a while, so let's talk ~ethics~ and ~philosophy~ aka this is gonna be a bit long. I do promise I'll answer your question, though!

The first thing I want to note is that you're really asking about two different things, which are almost always conflated these days when it comes to talking about animals: welfare (is the animal happy / healthy / safe) and ethics (is what's happening good / moral / acceptable). It's really important that we distinguish between the two, because welfare is an objective measure of physical and mental wellbeing, and ethics are a human construct that involves subjective interpretation.

A useful but highly oversimplified example of this is the bothering of cats for online videos. Pestering a cat to get a funny reaction once in a while may not impact their overall welfare. Welfare is the cumulative impact of an animal's experiences, which means that single acute moments may not weight heavily on the entire balance. If the cat is healthy, fed well, enriched, and has a good and positive bond with their humans, those momentary irritations for videos might not matter much. That doesn't mean that you or I, as viewers, might not still find bothering an animal for internet clout ethical. We can believe that humans shouldn't ever unnecessarily put their pet through negative experiences, and we can think that doing so just because it brings the human money or fame is distasteful. But! We have to recognize that as used in this example, those ethical stances aren't inherently tied to the animal's welfare state. Many people I know who dislike cat-bothering don't care if the animal has good welfare outside of that situation - they don't like that the situation occurs at all, ever.

So, back to your question. You're wanting to know if it's okay for a zoo to have a drive-through aspect of an exhibit where people get to feed the animals. You're asking if it's safe for the humans and for the animals (which is a welfare question) and if that type of interaction is ethical. I could just tell you that of course it's fine, San Antonio is an AZA zoo and their accreditation only allows them to do "good things" but that's now how it works here (nor is it the reality of accreditation).

The safety aspect is one I'm not worried about. It's actually a pretty common thing for reputable facilities to do some sort of vehicle tour in savanna habitats, whether in the guest's vehicle (safari parks) or on a hay-ride type vehicle (zoos). Many of those allow guests to feed out specific parts of their animals' diets. Offhand, I know Tampa and Fossil Rim both have feeding tours like this in a staff-driven vehicle. It's not specified from the zoo's press release, but I can guarantee you that guests will not be driving those vehicles - which means the interactions will be proctored by staff and what people are feeding out will be carefully regulated. The habitat is going to have rhino, giraffe, zebra, ostrich, and antelope/gazelle, and I'd guess that the drive-through is going to stick to those latter two and maybe additional species. Those are animals where a car is an appropriate safety barrier.

As to if it's ethical to do? It's spiny question, because it depends very directly on the ethical perspectives of the person you're asking. I think it's fine - you may not. Let's break down the different things that come into consideration on the ethical side, and my responses:

"The zoo is commercially exploiting animals by letting people pay to get closer." If the issue is that people paying to get closer to animals is using them for money, well, that's the business model of a zoo (non-profit or not, they still need revenue to operate). So IMHO it's not like it's "less ethical" than anything else the zoo is doing, using that framing.

"Zoo animals should be allowed to be wild and undisturbed by guests driving in their habitats." Zoo animals aren't wild, and their entire lives revolve around humans and the human work schedule. As long as a vehicle entering the habitat doesn't have a negative welfare impact (e.g. they're not scared of it), it's not very different from the rest of the routine of managed care.

"Feeding zoo animals will encourage people to try to feed wild animals." Thanks to obnoxiously viral content creators, people are going to try to feed wild animals no matter what. Doing it in a proctored situation where a staff member can try to do some education at the same time is probably the best possible scenario.

"People just do those tours to get close to cool animals." People are always going to want to touch the animals. If being able to pay for a tour keeps them from jumping the fence to try to pet a rhino, great.

There's one more that I want to talk about separately, because I think it's where a lot of confusion gets generated. It's this idea that "Humans shouldn't be interacting with animals at all, any interaction is unethical and bad for the animals." This is a welfare crossover, but not one actually informed by welfare science in a captive situation. And I think it's because the internet lacks nuance. Yes, it is absolutely correct to say that with wild animals, you should never ever try to feed a deer out of your car (or similar). It is incredibly harmful to those animals on both an acute and chronic timeline. But thanks to the rage-bait algorithms on social media and people endlessly justifying doing stupid, dangerous, bad things (and getting pushback for it), there's been a lot of bleed between the public's understanding of what wild animal welfare is and what captive animal welfare is. Combine that with the reality that captive animal welfare cannot be assessed or diagnosed from a single context-less clip, and that people with strong beliefs and no practical experience with the field/species/individual will pass judgement loudly to their audiences...

The result is almost a reflexive believe in many sectors of the internet that any human-animal interaction that isn't couched as a "rescue" is inherently unethical, for reasons people often can't articulate. Which is why, I think, so often people want to support certain aspects of captive animal management but feel guilty for doing so. I see this a lot in the questions the blogs gets, and I'm glad people feel comfortable asking, because it's important to think through not just the individual instances but the patterns leading us to question them.

So yes, I'd say that a staff-led experience in a vehicle chosen for safety is an ethical way to proctor an interaction between guests and certain savanna species. It will vary by facility - I'm always more wary about guests driving, although many drive-through safaris are fine - and by setup. I think what San Antonio is doing will be fine, though, and will be interested to see / hear about the setup when they start up.

If you've got a question about ethical captive management, I'm always happy to talk about it - but I'd invite you to poke around in your head a little and send me not just your question in the ask, but your thinking about why or why not something might be concerning. It's great practice for understanding why you relate to animal ethics the way you do, and where those beliefs come from.

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

@djarin-desires @djarinmuse @drewharrisonwriter @ella-whyte @evolnoomym

@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

@itsjuststardust @jessthebaker @joelalorian @j-p3g @lahooozaherr

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@mosssbawls @nebulanibbles @nerdieforpedro @newpathwrites @none-of-this-makes-any-sense

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@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

Fun Carmy

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy, the other one is Logan, his social alter ego.

I was wondering if Carmy ever had a day of fun in whole life because IMO he has always been that anxious lil kid around others, that we saw in Fishes (02X06), I’m sure. He’s better at the tête-à-tête like the one he briefly had with Michelle that evening

OR as part of small close-knit groups, like that scene in the kitchen (Ceres 01x06).

These assumptions, I think, are also completely backed up by his S1 -Emmy Winning- monologue (Braciole 01x08).

And what I ended up realizing is that FUN CARMEN is not the one we might think we haven’t really seen yet, and that fun for him does NOT look like it may look for us or for a more extrovert type of person.

I happen to be listening to Nina as I type this, and she once said:

I think that quote fits Carmy and his "sense of fun" perfectly.

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy, and at peace Carmy.

This is fun Carmy

Fun for Carmy doesn't look like this

Fun Carmy is relaxed Carmy

Logan is not "fun", he is actually a source of anxiety for Carmy, and that's why he can't keep him "on" for long. He wasn't lying when he said he wasn't remotely OK at the party (Pop 02x05) because at that point he hadn't turned Logan on yet.

Logan is "The other one", the one most people would label as "fun", because it better fits the social CONSTRUCT of what fun looks like, but Logan Fernello Berzatto is actually his functional alter-ego.

His functional or social alter - ego explained from a behaviorist perspective

We all have functional alter egos, this is related to the PERSONAL constructs concept developed by Psychologist George Kelly. These are formed at a fairly early age, even well within our 20s we are still forming our personalities and constructs or ideas of how the world works and what everything means, and thus how we should interact with and/or react to this world we live in, in other words, how to adapt or not to our environment. Then comes our career that can prolong this formative period even more, for instance, celebs of any age are required to have an alter ego for those occasions on which they have to "turn it on" for the camera or the stage → "the stage persona" that is NEVER the same person as the real one behind the wheel of the "functional alter-ego" and this persona has been formed based on their ideal of what has worked best for them in the past, what their PR team or Managers require of them to get them jobs, etc. They may come across as genuine and relatable but celebs are usually always "on" when we see them even off camera, so they are not, not completely. We all have the "office construct", the "school construct", the "mom chat group construct", etc. That is actually a sign of being well-adjusted to fit in society, and that is why we do not act the exact same way in all those different situations even though we are the same person, because we are not the same "persona" and that's OK. It's not a sign of phoniness, or lack of honesty, although it can definitely turn into that and become dysfunctional when there's an underlying mental health disorder, although it doesn't always turn out like that, thank dog!

In Carmy's case in particular, he can handle Logan and turn him on / off at will, which means he's in that aspect still well-adjusted despite his multiple mental health conditions, probably because none of them is a personality disorder, so it's safe to assume that he somewhat knows what's he's doing, he's choosing it to a certain extent and it's not 100% unconscious, only partially.

His lines are becoming blurry because he let Syd in, whether he admits it or not. And deep down, he knows this but he's not fully willing to go there (yet). That's what S4 is for.

This aligns with the rest of his behavior I already went over in previous posts:

Fun Carmy is the one that California, Copenhagen, and Chicago post-Sydney Adamu brought out in him. He's what most people, not me, would call relaxed, chilled, etc.

Relaxed Carmy, at peace Carmy, coloring Carmy, talking about food and cracking lil jokes under a table Carmy, is FUN CARMY.

We know him already. We've seen him. He just turns him off when he's The Bear or Logan.

Remember to follow my tag #Gingerpovs 💋

[hey-august]

Cus saying something about rollercoasters gave me an idea.

What do you think buggy is like if he wants to take his partner to like a fair or theme park or something of the sort. Cus, obv he would. But they're way too afraid to get on most of the rides?

He may tease, sure. That's got to be a given, no? But seeing the terrified look your face after he'd somehow coaxed you into let's say the Ferris wheel? He's holding your hand, telling you it's okay. Describing the pretty lights and stunning view as you slowly get to the top. And while it's stopped all the way up high, you actually look out. Able to relax a bit. It's not so bad. It's pretty, actually. But heights are still terrifying.

Or maybe it's a rollercoaster he had to coax you onto. "Just try it once!"

And maybe he'd regret it just a little. The constant scream right next to him. Absolute death grip on his hand.

Getting on and starting to go up was one thing. The second it sped up just a hair to get to the top is when the screaming started, the tight hold on his hand. Then the screaming got louder as it sped downwards and your hand kept one hell of a death grip on his hand. The only time the screams stopped was so you could take a breath to continue screaming. Once the ride was over though he led you to a nearby bench until you could relax.

Or maybe those teacup rides. Only scared to get on it because.. Well it's buggy. And most people you've been on that type of ride would spin it way too fast and scare the ever loving hell out of you. But he's already dragged you on enough rides and this was one you liked. So he did spin it, but made sure you were okay with the speed. Laughing and spinning it together, enjoying the more peaceful ride.

Though you two did get on it again just to go as fast as possible. Laughing and clinging onto the seat.

I feel like he'd also want to win you a prize. *Of course* it had to be one that was so fucking stupidly hard to get. But he wanted to see you smile, he always did. So he tried. And tried again. And again. And..one more time. *damnit* why was it so difficult? But the second the person who was in charge if the game became distracted with something, even for a mere second, he cheated. Hey, he wanted to get you that prize. And it so happens he can detach limbs. His hand reattaching before anyone can see of course.

Is some of this based on personal experience? Yes. I can't stand rollercoasters, they scare the shit out of me.

My personal story with my first rollercoaster was at Kentucky kingdom. Lightning run. My mother fucking counted. (Yk the count to 3) Just to get my ass on a rollercoaster. I was terrified okay? But, yes, the death grip and screaming was what I did. That was her karma. My loud ass screaming in her ear (I was on her left) and one hell of a death grip. She might have lost a little blood flow for the time being. But she never dragged me on a rollercoaster again. And she never will be able to again.

(I have written more than intended but ideas keep coming)

Heck yes! Buggy would be a MENACE with this. Taunting and goading you into going on the thrilling rides.

PUH-LEASE, only weenies skip the big rides. What's the point in going if you're not gonna ride Mr. Bones' Wild Ride? (okay, maybe skip that one)

Buggy also talks up how the rides aren't even that scary. You eventually give in because:

maybe he's right,

you don't want to miss out on a good ride,

he seems so excited, and

he's getting annoying.

Yeah, the ferris wheel wasn't terrible. A little more shaky that you expected and very high up. But you got to sit next to Buggy. He even bought (stole) you a corndog to enjoy. He ate most of it.

The roller coaster though. Buggy thought he won (what exactly? who knows) when you agreed to go, but a little worm of regret started wiggling when the car reached the apex. Buggy said it was like climbing the ship's rigging on rough waters, but this...did not feel the same. Or maybe it did and he forgot how intense that feels. Both of you had white knuckle grips on the safety bar the whole time.

The tea cup ride was fine. Better. Really nice, actually. Even when it spun wildly, you still enjoyed it. It was less of a competition and more of a cooperative sport to spin the tea cup juuuuust right. Buggy also showed off by using his hands to spin the cup while he leaned back, handless-arms behind his head.

And BIG AGREE to Buggy stealing prizes. He also cheats. A barely-noticeable fingertip knocking over bottles, nudging balls, guiding hoops. He's schmoozing with the game attendees, distracting them from all the other shady shit he's doing. Meanwhile, you stand slightly off to the side and grab whatever Buggy hands you.

Do you need a giant plush sleepy banana? Or five bunny keychains? Or more than three lanyards? Or a frog bucket hat that doesn't fit? Or a bear bucket hat that doesn't fit? Or a cat bucket hat that doesn't fit?

No. But you take them anyways.

---

I'm also right there with ya with some un-fun ride stories, cyra. 😂 Once when I was a younger kid, I CRIED on the queue for Space Mountain. SOBBING. I was scared but we were going to go on the ride. And then the HORROR - I was supposed to sit at the front. Absolutely not. Thankfully, some older teens took pity and sat in the front.

I got on the ride, continued to cry, and shrunk myself so low that my head knocked on the sides of the ride during sharp turns. It was not ideal.

On a lighter note, there was a time where I was on one of those spinning Gravitron rides. The UFO shaped one. And the ride operator would slow down the spinning and then start it right back up. They said we were almost done more than once but everything kept spinningggg. We were hostages in the UFO and it felt like forever. Honestly, I loved it but omg I felt like I was outside of my body afterwards. I was not the same person.

[vickyvicarious]

I find the detail that Jonathan was going to spend the night away from home but then sent a telegram that he'll take the 4hr commute back to be home with her tonight pretty interesting. Did he change his mind? We never see his telegram, but Mina seems to suggest he gave as reason that she'd not be alone at night?

I was thinking recently about what day it might be when considering the timeline for Arthur's note to Jack after the funeral for his WRWD. To sum up, it looks like the 25th is probably a Monday. The other option was that it's Sunday, which seems less likely but does make him wanting to get home sooner if he could more likely. I guess in a way that's not very relevant to the specifics of your question. I was just reminded...

Anyways. Your suggestion that Jonathan came home for the (stated) purpose of ensuring Mina didn't have to spend the night alone is interesting, and I see where it comes from:

And yet, if it be true, what terrible things there are in the world, and what an awful thing if that man, that monster, be really in London! I fear to think. I have this moment, whilst writing, had a wire from Jonathan, saying that he leaves by the 6:25 to-night from Launceston and will be here at 10:18, so that I shall have no fear to-night.

If that last phrase is continuing the description of what Jonathan's message said, then yes, that does seem to be his stated reasoning. However, I've always personally read that as a modifier/response to her own earlier line about "I fear to think" - basically, I've assumed Jonathan just said he would make it home, and it was Mina who added that now she won't have to worry about him tonight. Of course, some of that was based on my assumption that Launceston is in London and so she was worried about his proximity to Dracula. But Launceston, I've just learned, is actually in the opposite direction, further west than Exeter. So... perhaps that's not what's going on. Maybe I've been wrong and your interpretation is correct.

Regardless of whether Jonathan said it or Mina did, I think the fear referred to here is her worry about him. He did just have a total collapse a few short days ago (3, to be precise). And that happened while traveling. Not to mention, the last time he went on a business trip away from her for more than a day, he went missing for months and turned up horribly traumatized. So even if she 'knows' it's just an overnight trip and he will be fine, she could be feeling understandable anxiety about this. All the more so after losing Mr. Hawkins and Lucy.

However, equally relevant is Jonathan's own feelings on the matter. I think whatever worry Mina might be feeling about his business trip will be just as intense for him as well, if not even more so. He was obviously trying to dive into his work to both distract himself and live up to the responsibilities he now has as Mr. Hawkins' heir. He may well have agreed to or arranged this trip in an attempt to prove he's fine/make himself fine/fulfill others' expectations. And then perhaps in the train there, he began to regret his choices...

He didn't send Mina his message until around 6:30pm, just about the time he was catching the train home. That's after the close of business for most offices nowadays, at least. Probably back then as well. I think it's quite possible that Jonathan either worked as hard as he could to finish everything early (regretting his choice very soon after leaving) and only told her once he was sure it was all done so he could go home, or was already going to have finished things but originally didn't want the long trip back at night. But he changed his mind at the last minute and told Mina as soon as he did, so that he could get back to her side and not have to spend a night alone away from here.

I definitely think both he and she would hesitate to be apart at night, at least at first. All the more given his night terrors, and a 'business trip' would be worse than some other reason, given the history there. If the need arises I'm sure they could/would, but if Jonathan realized he didn't have to, he'd try not to.

I'd be remiss not to also mention another theory I saw a while ago. I don't have the specific post but I believe there was speculation that Jonathan realized Mina had opened his diary before she told him, and some of his throwing himself into work was him deliberately giving her space to read it. It also might have been him trying to avoid any reaction she might have, in case that dredged up things he didn't want to face. If so, him turning back around and heading home would indicate a willingness to face the truth, or at least see how she looks at him now. I don't tend to buy this one myself because she read the diary a couple days earlier, and so the timing doesn't quite match up for that to be related to his trip.

[canirove]

Rice, Rice, baby | Chapter 32

Previous chapter | Next chapter (coming out on Monday)

Masterlist

“And if you run out of nappies, there is a box in the storage room. And he has to have Mr. Poo with him when he is sleeping, even during naps. And if he can't sleep he usually calms down if you sing to him “Freed from desire” because Declan sings him football songs and for whatever the reason that calms him down. And if he…”

“Liv… Liv, Olivia” Declan's mum says, stopping my rambling. “I know what to do. I've raised three boys and a few grandchildren, remember?” she chuckles.

“Yes, sorry. I'm sorry. I just… you know.”

“It's the first time you are gonna be away from Oliver since he was born.”

“Yes” I sigh.

It's been three months since I gave birth. Three of the most exhausting, daunting but also wonderful months of my life, full of sleepless nights and tears, but also many laughs, cute moments, and my phone saying I'm running out of memory due to all the videos and photos I've taken of Ollie. I've even had to make different folders so everything is a bit organized.

There are a couple just for photos and videos of him, one for all the content with my mum, with Declan's parents, with his nephews, with Madders and Kennedy, with their kids, with Olga… And of course, there is one only for Declan. After the ones all for Ollie, his has to be the one that has the most content.

But I just can't help myself. Seeing him being a dad is… I don't know how to explain it. It's like it makes me fall in love with him even more than I already am, sometimes making me feel like my heart is about to burst from all the love it has for him and Ollie. Other times tho, it makes me think of what I overheard him and his mum talk about. About the fact that he told her that he was in love with me.

More than once I've wanted to ask him about it, if what I heard was true or if it was my mind playing games with me because I was about to bring a human being to the world and everything inside me was a chaos. But I've never managed to do it, I've  always gotten cold feet. Though that may be about to change.

He has booked us a couple of days away at the same place where we stayed for our babymoon with the excuse that I deserve to relax, have a good night of sleep, and just think about myself for a bit (easier said than done). And since that was the place where we were supposed to talk about our feelings and what the kisses we shared meant, this may be the right moment to do it. To stop being a coward and tell him what I feel, to say the three words.

“Ok, our bags are in the car. Are you ready?” Declan asks, joining me and his mum.

“She's ready” she says.

“Can't I check on Ollie again? Just to be sure he is…”

“Liv, the little man is asleep, he's ok. And you already said goodbye to him like five times” Declan chuckles.

“Six. She went back to this room while you were away.”

“Really?”

“I'm sorry, I just… I can't help it” I shrug.

“He's gonna be fine, Liv. I have everything under control, and tomorrow your mum is coming over too. He's gonna get all the attention and cuddles in the world” she smiles.

“Can I give him a last one?”

“Declan, take her out of here, please” his mum laughs, pushing me towards him. “I don't want to hear from any of you in two days, understood?”

“I'll try my best to keep us, and especially her, entertained” he smirks, putting an arm around my waist and making my stomach do a flip inside me. 

“Yeah, well, umm… Can't I see him one last time, then?”

“No” Declan's mum says, definitely using the same tone she has had to use plenty of times with her sons. “And now go or you'll be stuck in traffic for hours” she says, moving her hands in the air and basically kicking us out of the house.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Have I ever told you that this is the best chocolate cake ever?”

“Every single time you've eaten it since that first time” Declan laughs.

“It feels like it happened in another lifetime” I sigh.

“It does, doesn't it?” he says, finally managing to open the champagne bottle he had on his hands. It is our last night away, and to celebrate, he ordered some of that chocolate cake I love so much and some champagne. “If we went back in time and told that Liv and that Declan that two years later they are parents to the most amazing little boy, they would not believe us.”

“Nope” I chuckle. “And thank you” I say when he gives me a flute with some champagne.

“You're welcome” he smiles. “So, what should we toast to?”

“I don't know… Maybe to that amazing little boy you just mentioned?”

“You have not stop thinking about him, have you?” Declan laughs.

“Have you?”

“I have not, no” he smiles. “And how could I when I have you reminding me of him all the time? Each day he looks more like you, Liv.”

“But with your eyes.” Because my wish had come true, and he had gotten his eyes. Those blue eyes I have not been able to stop thinking about since the first time they looked at me, eyes that make me feel things no one had been able to before. 

“To Ollie?” he says, raising his flute.

“To Ollie” I reply, doing the same.

“And, since we are toasting and celebrating… I have something for you.”

“For me?”

“Yep” he says, giving me a small box. 

“Declan, I… You didn't have to get me anything. You've done enough already with this trip and everything else since I moved in with you.”

“What I've done is the bare minimum, Liv. And this is just a little something. Open it.”

“Ok” I say, my hands shaking a bit. Why am I nervous? “Oh…”

“Do you like it? I've seen you wearing both rings and necklaces and I didn't know what you liked best, so I just picked one of each.”

“I love it, Declan” I say, trying really hard to not start crying. He had gotten me a ring with Oliver engraved on it and a matching necklace with an O and a little stone hanging next to it. “Is this a real ruby?”

“It is. That's Ollie's birthstone, isn't it?”

“Yes, but… wow. I… I don't know what to say.”

“Just knowing that you love it is enough” he smiles.

“Thank you, Declan” I say, wrapping my arms around him and hugging him. 

“You're welcome, Liv” he replies, hugging me back. We stay like that for a while, just hugging and not saying a word, until a bird makes us both jump.

“What the fuck was that? A dinosaur?”

“I don't know” I laugh. “But it was loud.”

“So loud…” he chuckles. “Anyway, do you want me to help you put on the necklace?”

“Please” I say, giving it to him while putting on the ring. It fits perfectly. “How did you think of this?” I ask him to try and focus on something that isn't the way his fingers feel on my skin.

“Aaron told me that he had bought Georgina a pushing ring, and I thought I could do the same.”

“A what?”

“It apparently is a thing people do to congratulate their partners after giving birth” he shrugs.

“I had never heard of it before.”

“Neither had I. And done. How does it feel?”

“Perfect” I say, turning around to face him. “Thank you, Declan. Again.”

“That's ok” he smiles. And once again, I find myself focusing on his mouth. On his lips. On how much I want to kiss him and… “Don't do it, Liv.”

“Uh?”

“Kiss me. Don't do it.”

“I wasn't going to kiss you” I say with a nervous laugh, my face already burning. Fuck.

“But you were thinking about it, weren't you?” he smirks.

“No.”

“Sure” he says, his smirk turning into a grin.

“Ok, fine. What if I was, uh? Is there any problem with that?”

“Yes and no.”

“What?” 

“No, because I also want to kiss you, and yes, because we can't do it until we have had that conversation we were supposed to have months ago.”

“Oh, that… yes” I say, focusing on my hands. “I've wanted to talk about that too for a while but never found the moment.”

“Well, this is it. And even though the chivalrous thing to do would be to let you speak first, I can't, Liv. I must be the one explaining everything first because I am the one who behaved like a dick and the one who broke your heart.”

“Declan, you didn't…”

“C'mon, Liv” he says with a sad laugh. “You know I did and that I hurt you. I hurt you really really bad.”

“I… You did, yes” I whisper.

“I hurt you and I think I will never be able to forgive myself for it. Because I… I didn't want to do it, you know? Like… urgh” he says, running his hands through his hair.

“It's ok” I say, reaching for one of them as he lets them rest on his lap, interlacing my fingers with his and giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“I never meant to hurt you or treat you the way I did, Liv” Declan says, looking at me. “I swear that was never my intention. But I… I was a coward. I was a coward who got scared because he had never felt for any girl the things I was feeling for you. The things I still feel for you. Because I love you, Olivia” he says, those blue eyes of his looking at me in a way that hadn't before. It's like I could feel them reaching my heart and my soul if that makes any sense. “Each day I'm more convinced that I've loved you since the moment we met and you made me that first coffee, because I haven't been able to get you out of my head since then. And that scared me, Liv. That scared me so much… That's why sometimes I would ignore you and be cold around you. Because what I was feeling for you was so new and so intense that instead of just enjoying it, I would sabotage it. I talked about it many times with my brothers and some of my best friends, and they all gave me really good advice, the main one being: don't fuck it up, Declan. But instead of following it, I did the opposite and ruined it all. Instead of telling you how I felt, I ran away from you every time my feelings overwhelmed me. Because I was a coward, Liv. The biggest coward ever.”

“You weren't a coward, Declan” I say, wiping away a tear from his cheek.

“I was, Liv. I was a coward who fucked up big time, breaking the heart of the woman he loved, and making her despise me.”

“I never despised you. I hated you for a while, but I never despised you” I say, caressing his cheek. 

“But you should have. What I did to you that summer… The way I played with you for months… I deserved it.”

“You did, yes. Olga agrees on that” I chuckle. 

“I was going to explain everything to you that day, you know? I was going to tell you that I loved you and that I had been a dick who didn't deserve you. That I was going to work on myself to fix all my insecurities, that I wanted to become someone worth it of you even if you didn't want anything to do with me ever again. But then…”

“We got carried away.”

“A bit, yes” he smiles. “Then when we crossed paths again and I overheard you talking with Harry about being pregnant, and the thought that it could be mine didn't cross my mind, you know? I only thought that you had moved on just like I was trying to do and miserably falling at because you are the only woman I love, and that I deserved to feel the way I was feeling, that I had broken your heart and now it was my turn to feel that pain. But then you told me he was mine, and it was like the skies opened” he chuckles. “Because I saw it as the world giving me a second chance to fix things and do them right this time. To make up for all the wrong choices and mistakes I had made and stop being a coward. I couldn't keep being that person now that I was going to be a father. I needed to step up, to be the best version of myself for that little person that was about to come to the world and change everything forever. But while focusing on that, we've been getting closer again. And even though the thought of us getting back together is something that I've tried to keep locked away to just focus on your pregnancy and Ollie, on you two being safe… It's been almost impossible. The idea of us being a family, of us raising him together as a couple like I had dreamt many times before ruining it all, is something I constantly find myself thinking about, especially when we are together. Because I've found myself falling in love with you more than I already was, Liv. And hiding my feelings for you has been so hard… So fucking hard. You don't know how many times I've wanted to kiss you and love you but I've had to stop myself. So many times…”

“And here I was thinking I had done something wrong” I chuckle. “Because I've also wanted to kiss you many times, you know?”

“You have?”

“Yes” I nod.

“I wish I had told you earlier how I feel. That I love you and that I always have. But there have been so many things going on these past few months that I didn't want to confuse you even more and…”

“You have said it now, haven't you?” I smile, my fingers still caressing his face.

“I have, yes” he replies, letting out a big sigh and smiling back.

“Though I already knew.”

“What?”

“I overheard you telling your mum about it before Ollie decided it was time to come to the world.”

“You… shit.”

“And that's why I said earlier that I've been wanting to speak with you. I needed to know if what you had told her was real or if it was just my mind playing games, because Declan… I love you too.”

“You…”

“I think I've also been in love with you since the moment I met you at the cafeteria, because I haven't been able to keep you out of my head either. And yes, you hurt me and you broke my heart, but I… I never stopped loving you. I couldn't despite Olga constantly telling me that I should.”

“You should have listened to her, Liv.”

“Yeah, well” I shrug. “The thing is that then I got pregnant, and those feelings were still there, growing and getting stronger. And then there were moments where it felt like we were getting closer again and you were going to kiss me, but then you wouldn't, and like I said, I didn't know if I was doing something wrong, if it was my hormones making me imagine it all, if it was just me wishing we could go back to what we used to have, if I was making the same mistakes again and letting you play with my feelings… It was confusing as fuck” I laugh. 

“I wasn't playing with your feelings, Liv. I'm so sorry you felt like that. I know I did it in the past, and even though I wasn't doing it intentionally to hurt you, I… That wasn't the case this time. I promise you.”

“I know” I smile. “But then when you surprised me with the nursery… I knew it. I knew it wasn't my hormones messing up with me. It was just how I felt. I loved you and I was falling in love with you more and more each day, and since Ollie was born it has gotten to a point where I… I… I just fucking love you, Declan Rice. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you and…”

“And so am I, Liv. I'm stupidly and completely crazy in love with you. I love you” he says before kissing me. 

And you know, even though we've kissed many times before, none of those kisses have felt like this one. There has not been a single kiss in my life that has made me feel the way this one is, to be honest. 

Because there has not been anyone I've loved the way I love Declan, and probably never will. 

[karanseraph]

why Starscream could be a pain-seeker...

This is opinion and ramblings, but it could have spoilers for Transformers One (which i have still not seen but exposed myself to some spoilers) as well as for upcoming chapters of my fic The Life and Times of Skywarp, also I'm going to write about alien robot characters being abused, so...

hi, not a masochist, but I write about alien robot characters sometimes.

Why might Starscream who undergoes some severe beatings (often by the hands or cannon of Megatron) in various Transformers media and has been seen begging for mercy at another point be seeming to challenge Megatron to hurt him more or antagonistically ask for more pain or punishment?

So, I had no hand in writing official TF media, so I can't tell you why someone else wrote that.

But I can tell you why I might choose to write that and how it's not necessarily (key word there) contradictory with other portrayals.

Starscream likely experienced pain/punishment/torture/abuse/experimentation in the past. How this happened differs from one continuity to another. Maybe it was Megatron all along, maybe he had a neglectful or abusive mentor once, maybe he was put into a constructed body and felt 'wrong' all the time, maybe he only discovered he has a mutant immortal spark after several 'deaths' and remembers all of that, maybe Quintessons forced him into experimentation in order to create a bunch of Seekers who look kinda like him, maybe he has a brother who can't control his own deadly ability very well. Maybe multiple of these happened.

Also, Starscream sometimes does selfish things. If we think that the above happens then Starscream might at first try evasive or avoidant strategies. But he might be faced with choices where to prevent himself experiencing further pain, he allows others to receive pain or punishment. Like, "if you don't comply, we'll just do this to your brother or to that black and purple one you pretend you don't like"

And once Starscream is selfish and acts in self preservation and other bad things happen, he could have guilt. Not that he should. He was trying to save himself and the one doling out punishment still is responsible for their action. But it can feel like maybe he did bad things or mad bad choices (even if sometimes there was a dilemma of false choice or lesser evils)

If Starscream knows pain is inevitable and that he can't always evade it, and that he's already experienced guilt enough to think he even deserves the pain, whatever the form, then his last recourse is to attempt to assume control and agency over what comes.

It's like, if you already were going to clean your room, but then your parent tells you to do it, it can feel like they just stole your agency and now cleaning your room will have the appearance of compliance or obedience, even though it was your idea first.

If Starscream says he wants to be beaten or hurt or punished, even if Megatron or another character was going to do it anyway, then he can feel like he's stealing their agency for himself. He's saying what can or will happen. If it continues, he feels some measure of control. And if it stops, because now Megatron isn't interested if Starscream likes it, then at least Starscream gets what he originally wanted which was his own self preservation.

I'm not saying this is rational in all senses. But I think the mental processes can make sense for a person/character.

And, it's possible Starscream does or did at some point learn to receive the beating and turn the pain into pleasure because it's representing life and continued ability to sense and function and brings a sort of alertness and clarity and focus in those moments. That's possible: that he learned to derive pleasure.

But it's also possible it's an attempt to take agency and control because that's what he really wants and enjoys. Even if it comes with pain. He wants to be in control of himself and what others may do with him and how many times he has to die. He likes the feeling of influencing the outcome. He might like seeing others influenced by him. So it might not matter if that's achieved by earning command, or by manipulation. He might just like feeling in control of things.

He probably really doesn't like others successfully taking control from him and doing things against his person or interests. He probably hates that.

So he'll say whatever he can to take back some control. Could be sycophantic flattery, lies, evasive misdirection, begging for mercy, egotistical challenges, etc.

And if Megatron is smart enough to figure all that out...he probably is capable of stringing Starscream along for some long amount of time, allowing him control over some things, but always ready to take it away by telling Starscream to do just what Starscream wants to do. He can let Starscream give commands or control weapons or resources, but there's always the potential to remind Starscream this is with Megatron's leave and permission, until such time as Starscream can defeat him. And that...hope of future conquest when he can have the control again will keep Starscream there with him, waiting in the wings as it were.

Not telling anyone this is happy and great. Just, i think it can make sense as character motivations and dynamics.

[herefortheships]

What is your opinion on the Beetlejuice 2 Dream Theory?

My short answer is that it's plausible, but not likely that that's what the writers or Tim intended. That said, every viewer is entitled to their own interpretation. When a piece of media leaves the author's hands, then it doesn't belong exclusively to the author anymore; the story takes on a new form when it falls in the hands of the audience ("the death of the author is the birth of the reader" etc).

I'd have to rewatch the movie with my brain prepared to point out references that may show that everything we're witnessing as the movie plays out is not real.

As for my personal interpretation, I don't think that's the case. There was indeed a dream sequence at the end though; we have to decide, when does the dream start? Was it when Betelgeuse and Lydia were dancing in midair? (Betelgeuse does break the 4th wall to tell the audience "I love a good dream sequence", so that's possible). Or was it later after Lydia says her goodbye to Delia? I've only watched the movie once so far, so my thoughts may change when I rewatch it, but for now, this is where I think the dream starts:

I think the dream started with Lydia quitting her show. She may not have quit it at all, as a matter of fact, but her dream started with this because she's now hoping for a fresh start and quitting her show is part of what she has identified as her ideal life, going forward. She's dreaming about a perfect life, believing herself rid of Betelgeuse and Rory and her past, and starting fresh with Astrid, focused on being her mother and being there for her this time. Astrid and Lydia only have each other now after the loss of Delia and Charles, as far as family goes. All of that from that moment on is the dream. In truth, she isn't rid of Betelgeuse, and she is pretty isolated now. So she is shaken awake by the nightmare (I already made a detailed post about that, so I won't go into detail about the dream and what I think it means here). I think the dream ends when she hears/feels Betelgeuse in bed with her. Betelgeuse isn't gone and he's still very much in love with her, which may not be a very comforting thought to her just yet lol.

Now as I'm writing this, as a matter of fact, her little jumpscare when feeling Betelgeuse in bed with her might have a double meaning. Why was she dreaming about him being in bed with her? To be honest, when I first saw that in the theater I thought the wedding had gone through, since they were sharing a bed now! Lydia may be beginning to realize her feelings about Betel have changed, which understandably scares her right now. Then she wakes up again and he's gone. There is a question here, was he part of the dream or was he truly in bed with Lydia? Maybe he was there after all (which is what I personally believe).

Anyway, I am beginning to ramble, but Tl;Dr: There was a dream, but it starts when Lydia quits her job (or maybe after she quits, when she and Astrid are in vacation together).

Again, if it's the same theory I read (which I totally love and find super intriguing), it does make good points, so in short I would say it's plausible. Today I read a post about how the name "Richard" repeats in the movie in several instances, which may add to the "none of this is real, it's all a dream" theory. But to be honest, for me at least, there is more reason to believe that what we witnessed in the film did happen, and Astrid, Rory, Richard, etc are all real and part of Lydia's life.

That Lydia isn't married to Betel by the end of this film doesn't mean her feelings about him will remain as they are and that she will never accept him or even love him, though. This movie was SO a setup for a third film and I am sure of that. It was left open ended so in the event it didn't land well, the franchise could be set to rest with this sequel which was mostly a passion project for those involved, but now we know the movie was a massive hit, so it's very likely and I have no doubt we will get a final third part. There is a LOT of "the rule of three" around Betelgeuse, starting with the fact that you need to say his name three times to summon him. "Third time's a charm", you know what I mean? So I believe the final movie will see them married (yep, not just together or just friends, but married). Marriage is a very important theme in Beetlejuice, both for the series and the titular character himself, so that wedding will happen and it will go through next time, for better or worse (and I hope for better!) Again, rule of three applies here. I think the story is prime for either a soulmate story, or a tragic "true love will set you free" kind of story in which Lydia has to marry Betelgeuse in order to free his soul so he can move on (it was pointed out to me that this resembles the story of Corpse Bride, which is also a movie directed by Tim Burton). If he goes with the latter, then that doesn't mean Lydia won't love him and will just marry him to free him (as in she’s his true love but she doesn’t love him back romantically); she may still fall in love with him, but will find a way to break his attachment/curse to set his soul free and "let him go" for now (it could go either way tbh 😭), and they can still find each other in the afterlife. And wouldn't that be nice? If the two of them can move on to a better place in the great beyond in the finale? To spend eternity together in peace.

Anyway, rambling again! This is my answer. Sorry for replying a little late (and "yapping" so much lol), but trust me I was thinking about this question all day.

[lecliss]

I'll never be able to take the theory that Vincent is Sephiroth's real father seriously cuz I cannot stress enough how important I think it is to the plot that Vincent wanted to fuck Lucrecia and did not get to.

[theamazingannie]

One thing I really don’t like about the pjo show is they are very tell not show about EVERYTHING. One thing I loved from the books is them teasing who the monster or god they were meeting was and getting the chance to pull from prior Greek mythology knowledge and figure it out myself. It was like a game and, yeah, most of the time it was someone new and I couldn’t guess but it was still fun having a tease up until a reveal and THEN they would share the story for those who didn’t know. The show just keeps straight up telling the audience who everyone is and instead of unknowingly walking into a trap and building suspense they go in expecting something to happen and then have a less exciting trap happen later (Medusa and the Lotus Hotel being the main ones). It’s like they both want to cut the teasing because the book readers already know and want to explain things simply to show watchers who probably aren’t well versed in Greek mythology but it takes all the whimsy away. One part I loved in the Lotus scenes in the book was Percy figuring out that they were in a time warp because he meets the kid from the 1970s and realizes what’s going on but in the show he notices cuz it’s…dark outside? Like yeah okay it works but going “it’s dark outside even tho it feels like it’s been 20 minutes and that means we are in a time warp and oh yeah the flowers are in the air even tho I’ve given no reason prior to have figured that out” is not NEARLY as compelling as “I lost track of time cuz I was having fun but huh this guy I’m playing with talks weird and dresses weird and oh boy he’s from the 1970s and now that I’m pulled out enough to look around I see that everyone here is wearing period clothes and this is trouble”. I know the extras were wearing period clothes but it never cuts to them long enough to make it seem like it’s anything but a costume that would be typical in a Vegas casino. You can argue that the Hermes scene wasn’t pointless but aside from Grover’s scenes to an extent it just wasn’t compelling and not just in an inaccurate adaptation way

[saintedbythestorm]

Not dad trying to tell me about some big fallout news he heard about from some work colleague 😂 oh what the poor man just subjected himself too.

[sysig]

I thought I was done being feral about Tamagotchis but no, it was just a lull

[leefsnakesnake]

There's an EU initiative going on right now that essentially boils down to wanting to force videogame publishers with paid games and/or games with paid elements such as DLC, expansions and microtransactions to leave said games in a playable state after they end support, or in simpler terms, make them stop killing games.

A "playable state" would be something like an offline mode for previously always online titles, or the ability for people to host their own servers where reasonably possible just to name some examples.

I don't think I need to tell anyone that having something you paid for being taken from you is bad, which is a thing that routinely happens with live service and other always online games with a notable recent example being The Crew which is now permanently unplayable.

Any EU citizen is eligible to sign the initiative, but only once and if you mess up that's it. You can find it here. (https://eci.ec.europa.eu/045/public/#/screen/home)

Even if you're not European or you signed it already, you can share this initiative with anyone who is, even if they don't care about videogames specifically because this needs a million signatures and there is different thresholds that need to be met for each EU country for their votes to even count and could also be a precedent for other similar practices like when Sony removed a bunch of Discovery TV content people paid for. EDIT: There are also some things people outside the EU can do, as well as additional things some people in specific EU countries like Germany and France can do that aim to solve this same issue as well. You can find that here. (https://www.stopkillinggames.com/)

(Note: There was a petition for UK people but the recent politics stuff there means it's on hold and has to be resubmitted and that may take some time.)

Additionally if you want to keep up with this you can check out Ross Scott (Accursed Farms on youtube or his website) who has been posting monthly about this and deserves a lot of credit for all this work.

(I hope that's all the stuff I missed)

EDIT 2: I changed the link to go directly to the form instead, this SHOULD work!

[joelsgoldrush]

“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k

logan howlett x fem!reader

“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

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

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

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

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

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

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

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

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

Allison:

bitch 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yeah… that you knew.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

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

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Me neither.”

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

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

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

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

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

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

(But you aren’t.)

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

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

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

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

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

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

What the fuck had just happened?

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

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

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

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

Your savior complex strikes again!

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

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

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

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

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

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

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

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

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

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

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

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

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

You could die at peace.

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

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

“Now why would you think that?”

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

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

“You don’t have to.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I beg to differ.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Should I give you some space?”

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

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

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

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

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

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

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

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

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Careful.”

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

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

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

“Get your hands off her.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

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

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

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

“I don’t have a phone.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

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

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

“Right here? On the counter?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“L-logan–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Who had given him a damn script for this?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

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

[bangcakes]

.

[valiant-portabella-pirkko]

listening to my Tideturners playlist was a mistake because I am having SO many feelings about the Sidewinder again.

she's not just any AU of Mai Trin; she's a version who's endured the absolute worst case scenario and lives every day in fear of losing everything all over again. but her story flips the entire narrative of Guild Wars 2 on its head; it's all a matter of perspective, and hers comes from an entirely different angle than we're used to.

what is a monster? as they say, to a bird, a cat is a monster.

the Sidewinder's monster is the Commander.

the first Commander she ever met was a tyrant who set the world on fire just to watch it burn. nothing could stop his rampage until there was nothing left to destroy. he made Scarlet Briar's war look like a playground scuffle; in fact, he did it by killing her and seizing her army to do it with. the Sidewinder doesn't have to wonder what a rogue Commander is capable of at their worst. she KNOWS.

and she also knows that if even a single one knew about her outpost, about her, about her people, and decided they were a threat to get rid of, there's absolutely nothing she could do to stop them. the most she could hope to do is be enough of a speed bump that the rest of the Turnabout can escape and make her sacrifice worthwhile.

she's spent decades building up a new world, a new society, and a new identity-- and in a split second a single person could bring it all crashing down. that absolutely terrifies her. it's all so fragile.

a major part of the Sidewinder's personal arc has to do with overcoming that dread to find common ground. because, truth-be-told, much as she'd insist otherwise? she's not so different from the Commander herself. she's fought long and hard to become someone worthy of the trust and respect that so many refugees from so many, many different worlds have placed on her. it's not enough to have it, she wants to DESERVE it. and even if she'd claim she's not there yet, most would agree she's succeeded. she's the beating heart of the Turnabout; none of it would exist without her. she's given all of them the hope that the heroes of their own worlds couldn't.

Mai Trin never wanted to be a leader or a hero or a politician. but as the Sidewinder, she's become all three out of necessity. she had no other choice. no one else was left alive to do it in her place.

so she puts on her mask, and she steps onto the stage, and she talks big, but deep down she knows that if the worst case scenario came back, there was nothing she could do to protect them, not on her own. the only thing that might stand a chance is another Commander, and is she really prepared to take a risk like that? is she willing to put it all on the line to fight for a future without fear?

and even if they are the right choice, even if they do agree to help in spite of it all... can she put one of the last good people at risk, knowing just what horrors they'd be up against? facing someone who's killed others like them a hundred times over, allowing them no rest even in death as their shambling corpses are conscripted into his undead army? how can she, in good conscience, expect anyone to face something so horrific with stakes as high as THAT? which is worse; that they turn against her, or that they trust her and die, adding another force of nature to their enemies' ranks? the Sidewinder doesn't know the answer to that question, if there is one.

there's so much weight on every choice she must make, and the consequences of every wrong move are unfathomable. she might not be the Commander, but that, at least, is one thing they have in common. the decisions they make will decide who lives and who dies.

all the Sidewinder can hope is that when she finally does make that leap of faith, she'll be ready to handle whatever results lay in store.