#maybe i should write up all this shit man

[megamindsecretlair]

Hi, beloved! ❤️ Would you be down to write about Terry Richmond using some rope tricks that he learned from his Marine training on reader? 🤭 If not, I completely understand and you’re still amazing !😘

A/N: Forgive me, I know this doesn't technically fit the bill, but this got my mind spinning. Let me know if you want a more faithful response.

Touch Me Like You Care

Pairing: Daddy Dom!Terry Richmond x Sub!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, oral (female), fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, lite bondage, overstimulation, reader is able to be picked up, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some, rushing.

Summary: See Ask. Story by @uniqueoutlierblog . Terry comes home to find you reading in bed, all thoughts of getting dressed out of your mind as you rest. He was prepared to let you, truly, but then he finds that you’re not wearing the bracelets he bought you. And well, he can’t let that slide, can he?

Word Count: 4,475k

AO3 Link

A/N: @planetblaque knows I can deny her nothing!! Whew, everytime I think I can take a break from this man, ya'll pop out with all of these amazing fics! I'm so over the moon to see so much activity. We fr just tossing this man around like a beach ball and I love that for us!!! Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.

You pulled your dresser open and searched for your favorite pair of thigh high socks. Ever since the weather turned, you were back to shivering every two seconds, feeling colder than a witch’s broomstick no matter what you did. 

After a refreshing shower, you opted to dry under your blanket hoodie, feeling the need to retreat from having to be “on” all the time. Navigating the world as a Black woman was fucking exhausting. 

You picked up your phone, scrolling through your latest dirty book. There was a subtle increase in Black led romances that were making you stay up to the wee hours of the morning reading. The latest book was absolutely filthy from your favorite author. The anticipation for this book had been immense, the group chat blowing up with speculations and guesses.

The book was getting better, when the couple who swore they hated each other was about to fuck that tension out since fighting got them nowhere. You squealed, picking up the nearest pair of socks. You tore your gaze away long enough to put your socks on.

You looked around the room for your blanket hoodie. It was sitting on the famous chair, piled on top of a mountain of clothing that was near toppling over. You grabbed the hoodie and then checked in on your phone. 

Oh, the tension. The passion. It just ate you up inside when the characters got to that part. Confessing their love in drunken confessions or in the middle of an argument. Ouee, your body was on fire just thinking about it. Your pussy clenching at the details. The rich words creating a movie in your mind’s eye.

Abandoning your hoodie, you laid across the bed and decided to air dry. With the way this book was going, you might need a second shower. You rested your head on your closed fist and let your mind drift, picturing the scene.

You didn’t hear when your boyfriend called your name after he arrived home. Or how his heavy footfalls padded down the hallway to your bedroom. Or how he called your name again when he stood in the doorway. You didn’t hear the subtle camera click as a picture was taken.

Somewhere between the fifth and…counting?... sex scene, you ended up on your tummy, legs high behind you, tapping your socked feet together. You were literally kicking your feet as the characters kept telling each other that they hated each other as they were clutching onto each other for dear life. 

You sighed. You simply ate this shit up. You were already mentally typing up your notes for your review on Goodreads. Ouee, maybe you should start keeping a side notebook. Just to jot down bullet points so your scatterbrained mind didn’t forget a single detail. 

Fingers reached across your ass and you yelped, looking behind you ready to scream. Terry stood behind you, his head tilted and a smirk on his luscious face. You choked out a laugh, rolling to one side so you could look at him better. 

He looked damn good in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt. Terry slid his fingers absently across your bare ass, tracing the globes up and down. Your body shivered, pussy clenching with need. You gazed at your man. At the smooth planes and lines of his face, the cut of jaw, those big pink lips. 

“You didn’t hear me calling you?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Sorry,” you said, giving him a cutesy grin. 

His lips twitched but he didn’t let himself smile. “You’re not cute. You have to be more aware of your surroundings,” he said. 

“Yes, sir,” you said, nodding. “Though to be fair, the only man getting in here is you.”

“Mhm,” he said, nodding his own head. “You reading your dirty books?” 

“Yes! You remember my favorite author?” You asked. 

Terry nodded, hiking his eyebrow up as he encouraged you to tell him all about your favorite author. And the book you were currently reading. “And I just got to the good part,” you said.

Terry chuckled and nodded. “Okay, I’ll leave you to it,” he said. He trailed his fingers between your legs as he moved away and you gasped. For two reasons. On the one hand, Terry’s hands on you always instantly put you in the mood. With your pussy already wet, you were thinking it was a good time for a break. 

On the other hand, you forgot that you had taken off your gifts from him while you showered. It was the only time you were allowed to do so. You meant to put the ankle and thigh bracelet back on when you lotioned up but plum forgot.

Terry stopped and you could feel his stare. It burned in the back of your head. Your heart thumped in your chest. You had no idea what he was going to do.

“Baby,” Terry’s deep timbre was a physical caress down your spine. You stretched your back and bit your lip. 

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said, pitching your voice higher. 

“Where are your bracelets?” He rubbed his thumb across your thick thigh. The weight of those words pressed down on you, making you want to retreat in your mind. You began to pant, feeling out of sorts. You were so turned on you could barely breathe. But you were also worried about what kind of punishment you were about to receive. 

“I just showered,” you said. You rolled so that you could look at his pretty face. To at least try to gauge where his mind went. Terry stopped you by wrapping his hand around your thigh. 

“I believe you. But you’re out of the shower now,” he said. 

“I really forgot this time,” you said. 

Terry sighed, the sound like a coin drop in an empty room. “You know what we have to do now, right?” He asked.

“You sure I can’t bargain out of this one? I can be pretty cute, you said so,” you said. 

“Up,” he said, his calm voice making matters worse. You may as well have been pleading your case to a brick wall. There was no changing his mind.

You got to your knees and then flipped over, scooting to the edge of the bed. Terry rolled his shoulders as he moved to your closet. He pulled a pine green box down from the top shelf. 

He placed the large, repurposed gift box on your dresser and opened it. Cheery snowmen looked at you from the painted edges as Terry rummaged around. He drew out a pair of leather cuffs and crossed over to you.

You pouted at him as he strapped the cuffs to your wrists. There was a small golden link between them keeping it connected and not giving you much room to escape. You tested the pull on it as you tried to separate your wrists. No dice. 

Terry grabbed the link and pulled you into a standing position. He sighed deeply, his voice a rumbling thunder behind it with a hum as he stared you down. “I had plans to treat you so well when I got back,” he said. 

“Fuck,” you said, the curse flying fast. You rubbed your thighs together, staring up into his pretty colorful eyes. Every time you looked at them, they were a different color. You loved to see the changes, especially this up close. His eyes went more brown when he was like this, when he’d sunk into that role of being in charge. Of being protective. 

He kissed your cheek, softly, reverently, his juicy lips leaving a small wet spot behind. He moved down to your lips, not quite kissing you. He hummed and smirked. “Whatever happens, just know that I love you, okay?” 

“Terry,” you huffed. His name was a plea and a curse all in one. You didn’t know what was worse. Knowing the torture was coming or having to live through it. Your thighs were on fire, burning with the need to have him between them. 

He pulled you closer by the cuffs, kissing you completely this time. He brought his free hand up to cup your cheek, hands warm. You licked his lips and he moaned. “Nice try,” he said against your lips. 

He said that, but you stepped closer, rubbing yourself against his growing bulge. He chuckled, letting you, looking down while you rubbed on him. He grinned and then grabbed your shoulders, turning you around. He pushed you down. You let out a soft oomph, flopping onto the bed. 

He grabbed your hips, pushing you further up your big ass bed. He positioned you how he wanted, close to the edge, but not so close that he didn’t have free range behind you. The hairs on the back of your neck stood up as you could only hear him moving around behind you.

It sounded like he was rummaging through the goody box again. You sighed. Digging your toes into the bed. “Start reading,” he commanded, voice sharp.

How the hell were you supposed to read anything? You hesitated, looking at your phone. There was no way you’d be able to concentrate and he knew that. 

“Baby,” you said and licked your lips. 

Terry said nothing and again, you felt his gaze bearing down on you. You whimpered as you grabbed your phone, unlocking it, and swiping back to your phone. You began reading aloud, reading about the sex scene you were in the middle of. 

Reading it aloud to Terry, picturing him as the main male character, you were miserably wet. Dripping practically. You sighed, thinking of your ruined bed. You’d have to spend tonight doing laundry. 

Terry’s massive hand slapped across your ass, the recoil loud enough to rival a gunshot. You squealed, falling forward onto the bed. Heat bloomed between your thighs, warming up your core to a dangerous level. 

It still really fucking hurt though. Your ass stung and you swore that you could feel aftershocks of his hand, slapping across your ass over and over. “Fuck, fuck!” You yelled out. 

“Keep reading,” he said. 

You got back to your knees and arched your back like he positioned you in before. You returned to reading out loud, pussy throbbing at the way the words made you feel. You got to an explicit part when Terry’s hands came back down. He smacked your ass a handful more times, covering a wide area and making your ass light up like a Christmas tree.

Tears welled in your eyes from the pain and the pleasure. It was too much stimulation. “Please, please, fuck me. I can’t take it,” you whimpered. The words on your phone swam in your vision as your body contracted with shivers. Both from the radiating waves of heat and the burn low in your belly. 

Terry rubbed his hands across your ass and you screamed, kneeling away from his hands. Wherever he touched, your ass sang with pain. “Are you going to remember to put your bracelets on?” 

You nodded. “Yes, I swear,” you said. 

Terry shoved his fingers between your legs, plunging right up your pussy. You collapsed onto the bed, twitching. “Mhm, I didn’t give you permission to cum,” he said. 

“Daddy, pleaseeee,” you pleaded, lower belly twinging with the pain of fighting off your orgasm. 

“You can get wetter than this, baby,” he said. 

“I can’t,” you said, drool seeping into the navy covers beneath you. Your face was smashed into the bed, no way to hold yourself up while his fingers stroked your walls. The loud squelching of your pussy, wet because of him, made you clench around his fingers and moan. 

He placed his free hand on your ass, giving you the dual sensation of sweet torture and cruel relief. He moved his fingers faster, stretching you out with his long, thick fingers. You rode yourself on his fingers, throwing it back and he moaned. He smacked your ass more lightly this time, more in encouragement than anything else. 

“Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” you said, legs twitching. You couldn’t hold off any longer. 

Terry leaned down over your body, placing his lips as close to your ear as he could get it. “Nahhh,” he said slowly, a subtle rasp in his voice. You bit your lip and rode him harder, showing him that you needed more. “Gotta earn that shit.” 

You sobbed into your bed, tears streaming freely. You were about to explode. Come undone at the seams. “Daddy, please. Pleaaseee. Pleaaasseeee, ouee, pleeasseee,” you moaned, desperately riding his fingers. 

“You know what Daddy needs,” he said. 

Tears leaked freely, mixing with the drool and pooling onto the covers. Your mind turned to mush, no longer able to keep reading. Your moans were loud and near screaming. Your throat raw with the effort. Your essence flooded his fingers and he hummed in satisfaction. 

“There’s my good girl,” he purred. He suddenly flipped you over, not giving you a chance to work with him. He was too impatient, too needy, too rough as he positioned you on your back. He pushed your arms above your head, giving you a look. You planted your hands above your head and knew better to move them. 

It pushed your breasts up, giving him a total view of your chest. He groaned, eyes tracking to your pert nipples. Terry folded you in half, scooting his thighs beneath your back, holding you spread open for him. 

He placed soft kisses to your wet pussy, lips smacking from your juices. “Baby, I can’t hold it no more,” you said.

“You’re gonna hold it because Daddy told you to,” he said, his voice brooking no argument. You whimpered, whined, trying to breathe through being folded like a pretzel. 

Your toes brushed against the bed with every rocking motion from Terry as he got himself comfortable. He continued kissing your pussy, stopping to look back and stare at your pussy. His lips began to glisten with your essence. 

You groaned, a primal, possessive side of you jumping out. You marked your claim. It was your juices on him. Your essence feeding him. 

“Daddy, please,” you cried out. From this position, you saw his face perfectly. He stared at your pussy like a man possessed. Like a greedy man with the richest treasure in the world. Your heart softened just as your pussy throbbed. 

Terry smirked. “Pretty fuckin’ pussy. She miss me?” He asked. As if you hadn’t gone two and half rounds when you woke up this morning. As if he wasn’t driving you insane nearly every time you got within two feet of each other. 

“Yes, Daddy, she missed you,” you moaned. 

“Yeah? She gon’ be good and cum when I say?” He asked. He stared at you from beneath his long eyelashes framing his stormy blue eyes while his tongue rolled out of his mouth. He used the tip of his tongue to search through your soaked curls, separate your pussy lips, and flick across that little bundle of nerves. 

“Ouee, shit,” you moaned. Sweat beaded on your forehead. Your heart beat so loudly, it was a miracle he couldn’t hear it. You huffed, watching his tongue work around your clit. Feeling it was even better. His breath was hot across your pussy, making your breaths stutter in your chest.

His lips followed his tongue, going deeper, playing with the rim of your entrance before dipping his tongue inside you. You cried out, belly fluttering. You moved your hands and Terry’s eyes narrowed. 

Fresh tears leaked from your eyes, dripping down the side of your face. “Pleasseee,” you begged. 

“You’re doing so well, already,” he moaned. He sped up, licking you, eating you, devouring you as he lapped at your pussy. Fresh essence dripped out of you and he licked that up too. He moaned, burying his nose and face into your pussy. He ate like a man starved. Sloppily. Messily. 

“Oue, fuck, ouee,” you screamed.

Terry moved closer, like he was trying to shove his whole face inside of you. His plush lips wrapped around your clit and sucked. 

“Oh fuck! Terry! Terry!” You screamed. Your body began twitching. The orgasm you staved off was coming whether you wanted it to or not. Terry stopped altogether, suspending your body in the midpoint between denial and reprieve. 

Your eyes rolled lazily to him, panting, huffing, body feeling like you had been tossed into a barbeque pit. “T-T-”

Terry tilted his head, tongue flat against your clit. You throbbed and pulsed on his tongue but he didn’t move. Your body retreated from the edge in slow increments, relaxing against him. 

You blinked at him, no longer able to communicate a single thought. Terry’s eyes gleamed with sick pleasure. He hummed, moving his tongue against your clit once more. He brought you to the edge and then denied you the rush of pleasure at the last minute. He did it one more time, letting you relax and then bringing you back to the precipice. 

Your belly cramped so bad. Your mouth stopped working. You couldn’t do anything but pathetically moan as he ate his fill. Your toes brushed against the bed again as he leaned back far enough.

“She too tired now?” He asked.

You shook your head. Furthest thing from it. Terry smirked. “You nice and dumb for me, baby?” He asked. He gave you teasing little licks. You hissed and moaned, eyes aching from how hard you closed them from the torture. 

“Answer me when I’m talking to you,” Terry said, smacking your ass for good measure. It woke you from the fog long enough to nod. 

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you said. 

Terry grinned and then relented, giving in and eating you with a renewed fervor. “You can cum now, baby,” he moaned into your pussy. His tongue and lips teased your clit. His fingers dipped back inside your entrance, coaxing that sweet, sweet orgasm out of you.

You screamed loud enough to wake the dead. Or hell, maybe you joined them. Lights burst behind your eyelids as you came with so much force, you couldn’t breathe. Your pussy ached and throbbed, thighs shaking against Terry’s face as he teased you throughout the whole ride. 

He slowed down as he sensed that you were coming down, drawing out his teasing licks and kisses to your pussy. He pulled back and your essence dripped from his face. He looked like he went swimming in your pussy. His entire jaw was covered, shiny and wet. You wish you could take a picture of him like this.

A long spit chain connected you to him and he moaned, ending on a hiss. “That’s a good fuckin’ pussy,” he huffed as he regained his own breathing. “Turn that ass over.”

Terry lowered you to the bed while he hopped off. He made quick work of his clothes, his huffs and puffs the only indication of how badly he was rushing. You were just a noodle, watching him reveal inches of his bronze skin, the veins in his biceps, the tattoos on his arms.

You traced the tattoos more times than you could count, lips twitching with the urge to do so now. His thighs were equally delicious. As big as tree trunks, a light dusting of hair. And that ass. He turned to the side briefly so he could free his long legs from his underwear and sweats. 

“You are so damn pretty,” you mumbled. 

Terry chuckled. You didn’t think he heard you. “That’s my line,” he said. “And I’m pretty sure I told you what you need to be doing.” 

You couldn’t flip over fast enough, giggling. He’d just bent you over and ate you so well, your leg was still wobbly and shaky. Yet you yearned for more. Yearned for his body surrounding you, protecting you, caging you in his embrace. You were greedy. Needing, wanting, craving more. 

Terry descended onto the bed, roughly grabbing your hips and sliding inside with a savage thrust. 

“Oueeee, SHIT, Daddy!” You screamed. He slid out and then slid back in, coating his long dick with your essence. 

“Cream this shit,” he moaned, sliding inside faster. His massive hands gripped your hips and pulled you onto his punishing dick, ramming into you. “Made for me. You were made for me, weren’t you?” He asked.

“Yes, Daddy, I was made for you,” you moaned. He stretched you beautifully, slamming into you just as rough as you wanted. As you needed. 

“Just a pretty, tight hole for me to abuse whenever I want?” He asked.

You sobbed, tears gathering in your eyes once more. He hit that magical spot inside of you, the spot only he could reach. No other man, not even your toys, could hit that spot with such precision. With accuracy. He was just as much made for you. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned, voice muffled by the covers. The bed dipped as Terry leaned over, planting a fist beside your head to hold up his weight. He used his other hand to grab a handful of braids and yank, baring your throat to him. 

“I wish you could see how creamy you are. Pretty little ring on my dick. So nice and wet,” he cooed into your ear. He pulled your head back so that he could kiss you. His face smelled like you. You moaned and clenched around his dick. He hissed and then growled in your ear. 

“Filling me so deep, Daddy,” you moaned. “So fuckin’ deep, ohmygoood.”

Terry chuckled. He shifted his hips and drove in deeper, possibly down to his base, as he fucked you into the mattress. Your hands stretched out in front of you, gripping onto the covers just trying to meet his thrusts. 

“Untie me, Daddy. Let me feel you,” you begged. 

Terry responded by kissing you, tongue licking your lips. You opened your mouth and played with his tongue. His beautiful, amazing tongue that was capable of the sweetest words and the filthiest things. 

“You don’t know how to behave when you’re free,” he said against your cheek. 

“I’ll behave, I promise,” you whispered. 

Terry moaned, dick throbbing inside you. “I want to believe you,” he said. 

He kept up his brutal, savage thrusts, digging into you and making your belly clench. “Pleasse, Daddy. I want to feel you,” you moaned. 

“All you need to do is feel this dick, baby. Feel how much you mean to me. How much I want to take care of you,” he said.

Each thrust felt like it was going straight to your heart. There was no way you were still flooding his dick. Still making it easier for him to glide and thrust and stroke so far inside you, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. 

“Fuck me so good. So well,” you moaned. 

Terry gripped your hips and then pulled you down harder, faster, rougher. You yelped and squealed, stretched out on the bed, trying to escape. Terry yanked you back, fingers digging into your skin harder. 

“Shit, shit, shit, shit,” you moaned. Your thighs trembled from trying to hold yourself up from his hold. He kept you in place, filling you, fucking you good and deep. Your eyes rolled back into your head. But still, your body propelled you forward. Both because of his thrusts and because you just couldn’t take any more. All the edging from earlier had you spent. 

“Sit that ass up,” he panted, breaths falling across your damp back. 

“C-Can’t,” you stuttered. 

Terry grunted and pulled you by the hair until you were on your knees. He sat on his haunches, continuing to pound inside you. 

“You keep telling me what you can’t do. But all this time you been takin’ this dick and doing what Daddy tell you to. Do you know how proud I am of you? So pretty when you listen,” he moaned. 

“Fuck, Daddy, please,” you moaned. 

Terry grabbed your arms and pulled it until the cuffs went over his head. It made you thrust out your chest and he grabbed your titties, playing with your sensitive nipples. He pinched and plucked as he fucked you, kissing your neck and biting your shoulder. 

Your pussy made smacking noises on his dick, sounding thick and creamy. You moans mingled in the room, mixing with the pound of the headboard against the wall. You were constantly getting little dents in it from the force of your lovemaking. It was too much. You tried to sit on his lap but he grunted.  “Mhm,” he said, pulling you into a kneeling position one more time. 

“If I gotta stand you up one more time, you ain’t gon’ like it,” he snapped. 

You whimpered and whined but concentrated on holding yourself up. His dick slammed into your walls while he kissed your neck. One hand gripped your titty and squeezed while his other hand searched lower, rubbing two fingers against your pussy. 

You screamed out, unable to hold off this one. It gobbled you up with the force of it. Tearing you down to your roots, breaking you down to your center, to the very last atom that makes you you. You cried out, shaking, twitching. 

Your vision turned black and your right ear rung with a tinny bell as you came and came in rolling waves. One triggered another for an extended orgasm, body jerking uncontrollably. 

“Cum so pretty,” he said. “You ready for this nut?” 

You could only manage a nod as he rolled his shoulders and moaned in your ear while he came, unloading a thick load of cum inside of you. 

There was no more air in your lungs enough to moan. You could only sigh as he warmed you up from the inside, soaking your walls with his cum. Nothing leaked out as he continued to stroke into you.

Your body arched as he stilled, buried to the hilt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your jaw. He brought the fingers he used to play with your clit up to your mouth and bid you to suck. 

“Taste that?” He asked.

You nodded. Too spent, too tired, to fucked out to do anything else but yawn. Terry chuckled, and slipped out. His cum leaked out with him, sliding down your leg and dripping onto the bed. 

“Sleepy,” you mumbled.

“I know, baby. But let’s run you a bath first and I’ll change these sheets,” he said. He lowered your arms from his neck and then laid you on your side. He gave you a kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t let me catch you without your bracelets again,” he said.

“Yes, Big Daddy,” you yawned, stretching out onto the bed to await his tender, loving aftercare.

WHEW. If you need more like I do, here ya gooo! The Secret Terry Richmond Files

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[rosemariiaa]

~All Eyes on You~

pairing: Paige x Oc

a/n: ooookay so this is my attempt at writing paige x oc, i don’t do it often or at all so take it easy on me! other than that happy reading lovelies 💌

warnings: language, teasing, sexual innuendo

Enjoy!!!

Victoria Collazo had never been one to be easily impressed—growing up as a competitive gymnast and a proud Colombiana, she knew her worth. Her caramel skin and sharp features, accompanied by her fierce attitude, made sure of that. However, the minute she walked into that sports dinner with her boyfriend Jason, she immediately knew one thing—Paige Bueckers was going to be a problem.

Jason had already made a point of telling Victoria that he knew Paige, the UConn basketball star who was sitting at the bar, loud and obnoxious. And drunk. She could still remember the way Jason’s arm tightened around her waist as he leaned in, whispering, “That’s Paige. Met her during some sports camp, thinks she’s the shit now.”

Victoria just rolled her eyes. “She doesn’t seem all that,” she had muttered, watching Paige as she laughed way too loud, knocking over someone’s drink in the process.

Jason had wanted to introduce them, and as soon as they approached, Paige glanced up at Victoria—her blue eyes heavy-lidded, and a cocky smirk tugging at her lips. It was like Paige didn’t even acknowledge Jason as he said something she didn’t care to remember. She just stared at Victoria, too long, and too direct.

“So this is your girl?” Paige had slurred, half leaning over the bar, her eyes dragging up and down Victoria’s body in her mini red dress. “Not bad.”

Victoria had felt Jason stiffen next to her. She could tell he was about to say something, his possessiveness already creeping in. She stepped forward, beating him to it.

“I’m right here, you know,” Victoria had snapped, fixing Paige with a cold stare.

“Oh, trust me,” Paige had replied, not breaking eye contact, “I noticed.”

Jason had scowled at Paige’s words, his jaw tightening as he pulled Victoria closer. “You good, Bueckers? Maybe lay off the shots for a second, yeah?”

Paige raised an eyebrow, seemingly unfazed by Jason’s growing temper. Instead, she grinned wider, and glanced at Victoria, completely ignoring him again. “You know,” she said lazily, “You don’t seem like the type to let your boyfriend do all the talking for you.”

Victoria had rolled her eyes, annoyed. She could handle herself; she didn’t need Jason swooping in like some kind of protective shield. But Jason being Jason, always jumped in whenever another guy—or girl—so much as looked her way.

“Maybe you should mind your business,” Jason had snapped, stepping forward, but Victoria could feel the simmering tension rising between them. Paige’s smirk was unwavering.

“Don’t get mad just because I’ve got more game than you,” Paige shot back. “Maybe if you stopped acting like her fucking bodyguard for two seconds, she’d actually enjoy herself.”

Victoria snickered at that one, despite herself, catching Jason off guard. He whipped his head towards her, eyes flashing with disbelief.

“You gonna back me up, or what?”

“Can you stop?” Victoria had sighed, giving Jason a pointed look. “I don’t need you defending me like I’m some damsel in distress. I can handle Paige.”

“Can you now?” Paige’s voice dripped with amusement, her eyes never leaving Victoria’s. That lingering stare was making Victoria’s skin warm in a way she hadn’t anticipated. But she wasn’t about to let Paige know that.

Jason had been fuming by this point, practically shaking as he clenched his fists. “You think this shit is funny?” he snapped at Paige, trying to get in her face now.

Paige just raised her hands, feigning innocence. “Whoa, relax, man. I’m just saying…if you’re gonna get all territorial every time someone talks to her, you’re gonna scare her away.”

“Fuck you, Bueckers,” Jason growled.

Paige laughed, looking over at Victoria again, her expression knowing. “Well, at least someone here has a sense of humor.” She tilted her head towards Jason. “Good luck with that, by the way.”

Victoria shook her head, already over the night. Jason could be so possessive, acting like she was his property whenever anyone even glanced her way. It pissed her off to no end, especially when she could handle herself.

“Let’s just go,” she said, tugging Jason’s arm. But she couldn’t help glancing back at Paige one more time—only to find Paige already staring, lips curved into another smirk.

And for reasons Victoria couldn’t explain at the time, that look stuck with her the entire night.

The dinner dragged on, with Jason chatting loudly to some sports executive about his “future opportunities,” completely unaware of how ridiculous he sounded. Meanwhile, Victoria could barely focus on anything he was saying. Mostly because she kept catching Paige staring at her from across the room.

At first, she’d thought maybe it was the alcohol messing with Paige’s head, but after the fourth or fifth time their eyes met, Victoria knew exactly what Paige was doing.

The first time it happened, Victoria had been trying to pay attention to the conversation at their table, only to feel someone’s gaze burning into her skin. She glanced up and—there was Paige, standing by the bar, casually sipping her drink. Their eyes met for a split second, and then Paige’s lips curled into a smirk before she turned back to her group of friends.

Victoria quickly looked away, biting back an annoyed sigh. She didn’t need this right now.

But it kept happening. Every time she looked in Paige’s direction, the basketball star was watching her, eyes raking over her with that same irritating smirk on her face. It was like Paige knew something that Victoria didn’t, and it was driving her insane.

She crossed her arms, trying to ignore it. Jason was still going on about something—probably trying to impress the guy sitting next to him—but Victoria couldn’t care less. Every time she looked up, there was Paige, still staring.

At one point, Victoria rolled her eyes dramatically, hoping Paige would get the message and stop. But of course, Paige didn’t. Instead, she lifted her drink in a mock toast and winked at her from across the room.

Are you fucking kidding me? Victoria thought, her annoyance bubbling up. The audacity of this girl.

Paige was drunk. She had to be. There was no other explanation for why she was acting so damn cocky. That, or she was just an asshole, which, honestly, didn’t seem too far off. Paige had been a thorn in her side ever since they met, and tonight wasn’t any different.

“Hey, you okay?” Jason’s voice snapped her back to reality. Victoria blinked and turned to him, her face neutral. “I’m fine. Just tired of being here.”

Jason sighed, nodding as he reached for her hand, his grip a little too tight. “I get it. We can head out soon.”

She nodded, half-listening as she discreetly glanced back at Paige one more time. Of course, Paige was still looking—this time, leaning against the wall, her eyes trailing over Victoria’s body like she had all the time in the world. That stupid smirk was still plastered on her face, and it made Victoria want to throw her drink at her.

But instead, she just glared, pursing her lips. Paige raised an eyebrow, almost daring her to say something.

Not worth it, Victoria told herself, turning back to her table.

But even as the night dragged on, she couldn’t fully escape Paige’s gaze. It was like Paige was everywhere—no matter where Victoria went or who she talked to, Paige always seemed to be watching. And the worst part? It wasn’t just annoying anymore. It was getting under her skin in a way she couldn’t quite explain.

———-

Later That Night - Paige’s Apartment

Paige collapsed onto her couch, her head still spinning from the night’s chaos. She should’ve been asleep by now, but instead, her phone was in her hand. The first thing she did—like clockwork—was open up Instagram. Her fingers moved automatically, typing in Victoria Collazo’s name before she even thought about it. The page loaded, and there she was—her profile picture, her name, all those posts she’d stalked a thousand times but pretended like she didn’t.

She scrolled through her feed lazily, pausing at a photo of Victoria on a beach, wearing a bikini that showed off her toned body. Paige’s lips twitched in amusement as she remembered the way Victoria had kept rolling her eyes at her all night. The girl was so easily irritated, it was almost too fun to fuck with her.

But damn if she didn’t look good.

Paige’s thumb hovered over the picture of Victoria and Jason at some event, and she rolled her eyes immediately. Jason was always hanging all over Victoria like she was his fucking trophy or something. Paige had seen enough tonight to know how possessive that asshole could be.

She doesn’t even look like she likes him, Paige thought, zooming in slightly on Victoria’s face in the photo. Her smile looked forced, her body language stiff next to Jason’s overbearing grip.

Tossing her phone onto the couch, Paige shook her head and muttered, “You can do so much better, Collazo.”

She shut her eyes for a moment, but the image of Victoria kept popping into her mind—those sharp brown eyes, that caramel skin that had glistened under the lights, her curves barely hidden in that tight dress. Paige’s lips parted as she exhaled, a frustrated sigh escaping her.

Whatever. Not my problem, she thought, though it didn’t stop her mind from wandering.

———-

Jason slammed the car door shut, his jaw clenched as he started the engine. Victoria knew that look all too well—he was pissed, and she was going to hear about it.

The silence was deafening as they pulled out of the parking lot, Jason gripping the wheel like it had personally offended him. Victoria leaned back in her seat, already bracing herself for whatever was coming next.

“Seriously?” Jason finally snapped, his voice tight with anger. “What the fuck was that back there?”

Victoria closed her eyes and sighed. “What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about!” he barked, his eyes flashing as he glanced at her. “You were practically laughing with that bitch Paige all night. And when she started talking shit, you just sat there!”

“I didn’t need to ‘back you up,’ Jason,” Victoria said, her tone clipped. “I can handle myself. I didn’t need you jumping in like you always do.”

Jason’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles white. “Yeah, well, it didn’t look like you were handling it. Looked like you were letting her walk all over you.”

Victoria rolled her eyes, already done with this conversation. “I didn’t let her do anything. She was drunk, Jason. Who cares?”

“Who cares? You care enough to keep looking at her all night!”

“I wasn’t—” Victoria stopped herself, realizing she was about to lie. She had looked. Multiple times. But it wasn’t because she wanted to. It was because Paige had been staring her down like some kind of challenge all fucking night, and it had gotten under her skin more than she wanted to admit.

“Look,” Jason continued, his voice rising in frustration, “you didn’t even defend me when she was talking shit. What, are you mad because she’s pretty or something?”

Victoria turned her head to the side and stared out the window. “Oh my God, Jason. You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am I? Because it sure seemed like you were letting her get in your head. And now you’re gonna pretend like nothing happened.”

Victoria didn’t answer. She wasn’t in the mood for this argument, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to feed into his possessiveness anymore. All she could think about was how Paige had smirked at her, winked at her, and how she’d spent the night staring back like some kind of idiot.

Jason kept ranting, but Victoria tuned him out, her mind wandering back to Paige. Why the hell do I keep thinking about her?

———-

A few weeks later..

The UConn team arrived at the charity gala, a week before the ESPYs, buzzing with excitement. The venue was lavishly decorated, shimmering with soft lights that danced off the elegant attire worn by the players. Victoria stepped through the entrance alongside her teammates, her simple yet striking dress hugging her curves just right. She felt a mix of nerves and excitement; these events were always a bit overwhelming.

Across the room, Paige stood confidently, dressed in a sleek suit that accentuated her athletic figure. She exuded an air of casual elegance, drink in hand, and was already scanning the crowd. When her gaze landed on Victoria, her lips curved into a smirk.

Paige watched as Victoria mingled with her teammates, laughter mingling with the soft music playing in the background. She admired the way the dress moved with Victoria, effortlessly drawing attention. When Victoria finally caught her gaze, Paige leaned back against the wall, a playful glint in her eyes.

Victoria felt the heat of Paige’s stare, a mix of irritation and something else she couldn’t quite place. She rolled her eyes but found herself glancing back, her heart racing slightly at the undeniable tension.

As Victoria continued to chat with her teammates, she noticed the lack of Jason by her side. It wasn’t unusual for him to show up late, but Paige noticed immediately. With a sly grin, she sauntered over, making her presence known.

“No shadow tonight?” Paige asked, her voice laced with mock innocence. “I was starting to think he’d never leave your side.”

Victoria crossed her arms, suppressing a smirk. “Funny, I didn’t realize you paid so much attention to my personal life.”

Paige shrugged, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “I wouldn’t call it paying attention. More like… noticing what’s worth noticing.”

The annoyance bubbled up within Victoria, but so did an undeniable pull towards Paige, which frustrated her even more. She turned to grab a drink, hoping to shake off the tension, but Paige followed her, stepping up beside her at the bar.

“What’s it like being his babysitter, by the way? You must be exhausted,” Paige teased, raising an eyebrow. Victoria shot her a pointed look, her patience wearing thin. “You’ve got some nerve, Bueckers. Maybe you should focus on your own life instead of running your mouth about mine.”

Paige’s grin widened, unfazed by Victoria’s sharp words. “I can’t help it. Watching you is a lot more fun.”

Feeling a sudden rush of mischief, Victoria decided to turn the tables. She leaned in slightly, her lips almost brushing Paige’s ear as she whispered, “You know, if you want a real challenge, you could always try to keep up with me in a game of one-on-one. I promise I won’t go easy on you.”

Paige froze for a moment, a flush creeping up her neck. She was taken aback by Victoria’s boldness, her heart racing at the proximity. “Is that a challenge, Collazo?” she managed to say, her voice slightly breathless.

“Depends,” Victoria smirked, pulling back just enough to look Paige in the eye. “Can you handle a girl like me?”

The air crackled with tension, both girls sizing each other up. Victoria could see the way Paige’s gaze dropped to her lips before she caught herself, a hint of amusement dancing in her eyes.

“Pretty sure I can handle anything you throw at me,” Paige shot back, her tone teasing but laced with a hint of seriousness. “You might want to watch yourself, though. I play to win.”

Victoria chuckled, appreciating the way the banter shifted to a flirtatious edge. “Oh, I’m counting on it,” she replied, her voice low, sending a thrill through the space between them.

As the evening wore on, Victoria found herself glancing at Paige more often than she intended. Each time she caught Paige’s smirk, irritation flared within her, but there was also an undeniable attraction that frustrated her to no end. Every time their eyes met, it felt like a challenge, and Victoria wasn’t one to back down.

“Just ignore her,” her friend whispered, noticing the way Victoria’s attention was drawn to Paige. “She’s just trying to get under your skin.”

“I know,” Victoria muttered, her gaze flicking back to Paige, who was now laughing with a group of her teammates. “It’s just… annoying.” Yeah right.

————-

tags: @thaatdigitaldiary @patscorner

[lowkeyrobin]

Could I request, what dating sparrow!ben hargreeves would be living a peaceful life possible after season 4 (let’s pretend like it never happened) preference or one shot (you decide)

Peaceful life- like the plans he said to Jennifer in the car, moving away, etcetera

P.s I loveeeeeee your tua and descendants writing keep up the amazing work 🫶🏻🫶🏻



aweee stop this is so cute 💔💔💔 ; also yes went for hc cause no way am I figuring out how to oneshot that shit ; also thank you 🫶🫶 I appreciate it lol ; also if there's supposed to be an anon emoji down there I can't see it 💀💀 it's just an [obj] box, prob cause I have an android and we don't have the same emojis as iphones n shit lmao ; thanks for requesting, hope you enjoy! ; ps idk why I couldn't find that scene so I just kinda made some shit up lmfao

SPARROW! BEN ; runaways

summary ; your perfect life after running away with Ben except it doesn't end the world

warnings ; language

disclaimers ; no jail time for Ben / no s4 at all ig, reader isn't a brellie but refers to them as siblings + as kind of like an add on to them like lila

word count ; 363

masterlist

you and ben, after falling in love during the s3 era, decided you should just run away together

he'd taken a fond liking of you considering you were both so oddly peaceful when it came to just the two of you

the wedding at the end of the world really solidified it

and then you made out!

but after resetting the timeline and losing your powers, there was nothing to really stick around for

considering you wiped out all the marigold and sloane had disappeared (considering she would've never been born or was erased somehow) and your siblings had all gone off to live their lives, it was time you did too

you only knew Ben for like two weeks before you actually fell for each other so learning about one another was really fun

you packed up your bags (or what remained of them) and headed to wherever the back roads could take you

in the car you learned about each other's music taste and your hobbies, and all the sights you wanted to see around the world

the road took you to south carolina

you stayed on the beach for a week and it was honestly really nice

thank god you were able to steal thousands from sparrow-reggies secret stash lol

there you discovered Ben's hatred for water...

but after a week or so you packed up again and headed west

you drove around the country for about three years just sightseeing and living the most you could considering the two of you never really saw anything outside of home

but after a while, you had to settle down somewhere and make a proper life for yourselves

you both craved to be normal people, to pay bills and taxes and hold down jobs, maybe even make a family, as fucked as it was

I mean, trillionaires son moves to the middle of nowhere to live like a normal person? kinda crazy

you built a house on some old farmland on the outskirts of a little town, surrounded by forest and acres of empty land

you call around the family every once in a while, wanting to know how they're doing and what they're up to

ben couldn't really care tho, he only rlly cares for you, the others weirded him out

you couldn't blame him tho since he barely knew them and they knew a different version of him

when you're on the phone, head tilted as both hands are occupied by biscuit mix that you were mixing up, he stands by you with a soft smile on his face, helping you morph them into balls and put them on the tray

think a 90s type of house, very brown, window seats, etc

you live such a sweet ass life man

you sit on the front porch swing and drink coffee while you watch the sunrise

and in winter you cuddle up by the fireplace and watch shitty hallmark movies

you even started a YouTube channel for shits and giggles where you watch awful movies on cable TV and commentate over them because it's funny

you have a calico cat named sorbet

you have a strawberry garden in the backyard that surrounds the porch

and you go out to eat every friday

so many hugs from behind from the other when one is cooking

sweet kisses on the temple as well

so cavity causing sweet

[dannystheone]

more lee deadpool!!!!! i love how u write him and wolverine sm<3

aww thank you so much! It took me a second to think about what I wanted to write lol but here it is!

this is just a little somethin somethin nothing special lel

and sorry this took so long to come out I haven't been feeling motivated to write and I've been taking dress to impress on roblox very seriously LMAO

WARNINGS: SPOILERS FROM THE MOVIE/ Cursing, shenanigans, fourth wall breaks, nastiness, mentions of alcohol, mentions of BDSM

MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE!!

A Who Dun' It Mystery! (Lee Deadpool/Ler Wolverine)

Logan wakes up to find all his beer gone from the refrigerator without knowing who took it! Can Logan withstand all of Wade's antics to get a straight answer?

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

"RAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"

Birds flew out of their nesting places and whole houses shook on their foundations from the roar uttered on this peaceful morning. Squirrels, bugs, birds, pretty much the whole cast of Bambi ran for the hills to escape the terrifying beast.

Aside from one simple sleeping man and his adorable companion. That simple sleeping man was none other than Wade Wilson, otherwise known as the Merc with the Mouth, Marvel Jesus, People's Sexiest Man Alive in 2010- although in my opinion he was snubbed for 2008- and his adorable companion was Dogpool, of course.

Now, sleeping soundly, dreaming of Vanessa, Thor, and a certain web-slinger- Deadpool snored contently while the angry footsteps of the terrifying creature stalked to his bedroom. The angry creature better watch where he steps because Wade turned his room into a snow globe last night! And no, not the kind from the gift shop, although I'm sure if you ask politely, the gift shop worker would be more than happy to help you make this kind of snowglobe with a crisp 20 dollar bill-

The door was thrown open with a slam; the terrifying creature was revealed to be The Wolverine! Now is this story the one where the boy gets the monster at the end? Maybe an intermission of some kind-

"Shut the fuck up." Logan stalked toward Wade on his bed, careful not to step in a certain spot of something on the ground, and grabbed the papers Wade was reading aloud. Logan flipped the papers around to see the cover page, 'A Who 'Dun It Mystery!' Written by dannystheone''. Logan growled and threw the papers to the side of the room. Wade put his hands up innocently and looked at Logan.

"Someone's delightful this morning. Did you finally catch the bad kitty you chase in your dreams boy, huh? Or did you find my stash of catnip? Do you have more dog energy or cat energy? Let's ask the audience." Wade turned towards the camera, but Logan grabbed Wade's jaw and forced him to look him in the eye.

"Who the fuck, in this godforsaken household, drank the last of my beer?" Logan asked with a deathly calm. Wade lifted an eyebrow at the suggestive hold Logan had him in and spoke with his cheeks squished in his grip.

"If I answer the question, that'll take up one of your three wishes granted by the great and powerful Genie-Pool! And no, we're not using Robin Williams's rights for this one, but we can use Disney's. Would you like to use the wish to answer that question? Remember, one of my rules is I can't make anyone fall in love with you, even me, pretty boy~" Deadpool blew him a smooch as Wolverine snarled and pointed a finger in his face.

"A real. Fucking. Answer. You fucking moron. Who the hell drank my shit? Or I'll get the answer out of you." Logan threatened. Wade giggled like a girl, fanning his cheeks at the suggestive implications. Well, what Wade interpreted as suggestive anyway.

"Oh, you naughty little honey badger! Now I'm starting to think of what you'll do if I don't tell you~ Do we have a Tek Knight-type setup somewhere in the house? I should really invest in something like that-" Wolverine's temper got the better of him as he unsheathed his claws and thrust them forward. Deadpool jumped as he sacrificed a unicorn plushy to take the brunt of Wolverine's claws. The unicorn's fluff puffed out everywhere as Logan's claws stabbed the plushy.

"Nah ah ah! No claws in the house mister! We can't make all the furniture in the house red to cover up the bloodstains that come from claw-related incidents- although that would certainly be on brand. Could you imagine a couch designed by the guys who made the Deadpool X-Box controller? I might need to patent this million-dollar idea." Wolverine stared at him incredulously as he sheathed his claws. Deadpool looked to the broken unicorn plushy with a sigh and tossed it to the side.

"Jesus Christ, you're a yammering idiot. Your ADHD has ADHD, for God's sake. Will ya just tell me who drank my fucking beer already? I'll only hurt them a little bit..." Wolverine was clearly exasperated, but Deadpool had energy for days when it came to messing with his Wolvie-bear.

"Mmmm, I dunnooo... what do I get if I help you? A gratuitous turn-down service, perhaps? Almost as gratuitous as that lovely callback~ I hope you all at home reading this enjoyed that-" Deadpool said lovingly.

"Alright, that's it," Logan said aloud. Wade was cut off as Logan threw his legs over Wade and straddled him damn near on his ribcage with his arms pinned to his sides, effectively trapping him.

"Woah woah woah big boy! Establish the safe word first before you engage! We went through the BDSM guidelines together! You disregarding everything the BDSM subreddit taught us makes you no better than P-Diddy!" Deadpool looks to the camera. "Too soon, you think? I think it's in good taste."

Wolverine rolled his eyes as he begrudgingly started wriggling his fingers in Deadpool's ribs. Deadpool was currently wearing a white t-shirt with cartoon cats all over it and classic white boxers with red hearts all over them. His usual attire that gave him a little protection from Wolvie's tickle attacks was at the dry cleaners after the last job he had.

Logan realized very early in his 'relationship' with Wade that sometimes Wade needed to be tickled to be cooperative. He had no idea why, he had never met someone like Wade before so he assumed the weirdness and the absurdity of it came with the territory.

Additionally, with the no blood rule in the house and an elderly woman as their other roommate, this was the closest thing to 'violence' that Wolverine could use to take his aggression out on Deadpool. Wolverine had to admit, it felt good sometimes to take it all out on him like this. Logan's fingers scribbled and scratched in Wade's ribs, Wade immediately breaking out into peals of laughter.

"L-Lohohogahahan!! Wahahait wahahait wait!" Deadpool was caught by surprise, and thank GOD he was wearing his mask because he was blushing redder than the material his mask was made of. It always caught Deadpool by surprise when Wolverine randomly tickled him like this, only because it was so out of left field for his character. Almost as if this isn't a regular thing that would occur in the MCU and only occurs in the minds of degenerates on the internet.

"I WIHIHISH thahat wehehere the cahahase!! If ihihihit wehehere, I wohohouldn't behehe gehehetting tihihihickled rihihight nohohow!!" Deadpool yelled at no one in particular. Wolverine sneered as his fingers dotted Deadpool's ribs with an accuracy only experience could give. He wasn't feeling playful this time around, he just wanted an answer to where his beer had gone and he feared this was the only way he could get it.

"You wouldn't be getting ti-... be getting this treatment if you would just tell me who drank my damn beer. You always make it hard on yourself." Logan sighed and continued to tickle the merc. Deadpool swished from side to side on his bed as well as he could with a whole hunk of Hugh Jackman and adamantium skeleton on him.

"Awhahahaha!~ Yohohou stihihihill cahahan't sahahay thehe wohohord?! Yohohou're sohohoho cuhuhuhute!~" Wade teased, causing Logan to bristle and dig his fingers in further as retaliation. Even when Wade was in the throes of being tickled, he still managed to fluster his Ler. It was a superpower at that point.

"I got a different word I can say. Who the hell drank my goddamn beer?" Wolverine snarled, Deadpool still twitching and shuffling from side to side as the tickles came from either side of him.

"Nohohohot a wohohord! Thahahat's ahaha sehehentence! Haharvard DOESN'T wahahant yohohour lohohocation!" Deadpool laughed more genuinely now from his own joke than the tickles he was receiving. Logan growled from not having his question answered again and forced his fingers into the small spaces of Wade's armpits and vibrated his fingers into them. Wade shrieked and started belly laughing now.

"How about you tell me the location of my beer, huh? Think you can do that, Bub? Did Al drink it? Did you? Answer me!" Wolverine shouted over Deadpool's loud laughing. Deadpool tried squeezing the spaces that held Wolverine's fingers, but it just made the fingers tighter and closer to the skin, so either way it sucked.

"I dohohon't drihihink beheheer! I ohohonly drihihink thehehe fihihinest Aviahation Gihin!-" Wolverine's hands were lifted from Deadpool as Deadpool turned to the camera with a bottle of Aviation Gin appearing in his hands. -"Which you can now purchase from any local liquor store near you, including the Limited Deadpool Edition. Thank you for choosing Aviation Gin. Sincerely, Ryan Reynolds." Wade put the bottle back from its mysterious spot where it was before and assumed the exact same position he was in before with Wolverine's hands back in his armpit spaces.

"Then who the hell drank it? This can aaaall be over as soon as you tell me who did it!" Wolverine asked again. You would think he was beginning to lose his patience, but Logan was actually calming down from his previous place of anger now that he had an outlet to take it out. Wade was the unfortunate (or fortunate, whatever floats your boat) recipient of that, however.

"I cahahahan't! I wahahahas swohohorn tohoho sehehecrecy! I swehehehear!!" Deadpool sounded genuine this time, but Wolverine wasn't having it. Logan took it a step further and took his fingers to slide them up Wade's signature mask and started fluffing his fingers over his neck and the bottoms of his ears. He knew this was a secret spot that wasn't touched very often and found it by mistake, so it should be doubly effective here.

"Yeah? Well, I've done plenty of interrogating in my day, breaking down my victims and having them submit. S'aaall a matter of time now..." Logan attempted to sound intimidating but to Wade, this was just silly.

"PFFT! Hahahahaha! Ohohokahahay, whahahatever yohohou sahahay, Fihifty Shahades Of Grehey! Ohoho I'll suhuhubmihit ahahalright! Ihihif thahahat's whahahat yohohou wahahant!~" Deadpool couldn't help but laugh at his own hilarity, which just pissed Wolverine off.

Logan took his fingers from Wade's neck and took them down to his collarbones, to which Wade exploded. Wade was weird in the sense that his ticklish spots were never consistent. One spot would barely get him to laugh in one tickle session, and the next session that same spot would break him. Only ever adding to just how bizarre he was.

"You'll submit it you don't want to die first. Looks like you already got one foot in the grave from how hard you're laughing. Who swore you to secrecy huh?" Logan started gently pinching Wade's collarbones, which drove Wade up the wall. His legs started kicking and his head started whipping back and forth (with Willow Smith just out of frame).

"NOHOHO nohoho no! Okahahay okahahay stahahahap!! Ihihihit wahahas DohohohogPool! Wehehe rahahahan ohohohout of wahahater sohohoho I gahahahave hihihihihim the beheheheer!!" Deadpool spilled his secret, causing Wolverine to stop.

"You did what? You gave my beer to the sock puppet?" Wolverine got off of Deadpool, standing up and off to the side to let the merc breathe. Wade held a hand up to his chest while he caught his breath and turned to Logan.

"FIRST OF ALL- the gorgeous munchkin's name is DogPool, or- alternatively, the Messiah, if you'd like."

"Never calling him that-" Logan interjected.

"-Second of all, I only did it to be the best caregiver I could possibly be, without going to the store or getting any sort of grocery delivery service. Have you seen what a DoorDasher will do to your food if you don't tip? It's enough to make a 4-Channer fall to his knees, and that's saying something." Deadpool hauled himself up into a sitting position at the edge of his bed while Wolverine stood with his hands on his hips.

"You're ridiculous, you know that? Why couldn't you give it water from out of the tap?" Wolverine asked, sounding genuine. Deadpool gave him an incredulous look even through the mask.

"What kind of Fantasy/Disney/Fairytale-Land do you live in where we're rich enough to have drinkable tap water or rich enough to own a Brita? You think any of the money from the movie actually made it into our pockets? Ryan, Hugh, and Shawn pooled all the money the movie made together to fundraise Ryan to get back on his feet after the absolute disaster that was 'IF'. Regular tap water isn't good enough for my ray of sunshine, so I chose the next best option." Deadpool picked up DogPool sleeping right next to his bed and offered him to Wolverine to hold.

"Don't you want the best for the little chicken noodle?" Deadpool asked sweetly. Wolverine quirked an eyebrow at the dog with the tongue sticking out of his mouth. Dammit, it was so ugly and pathetic looking it was somewhat... cute. He didn't know how the dog managed to do it, but whatever his tactics were, they were working. Wolverine rolled his eyes and gave the dog's head a pat. Deadpool squealed at the display.

"Yaaay! My kitty and my puppy making up. Oh, we're all happy, aren't we? And yes Wolvie, your next six-pack is on me when I do eventually go to the store. Those 1000 bottles of baby oil aren't going to buy themselves. Two jokes in one fic folks. How we feeling about that? Go ahead and tell Danny in the comments or reblogs below." Deadpool said, putting DogPool back on his oversized bed.

"You're going to the store immediately if you know what's good for you." Wolverine threatened. Deadpool stood up from his bed and looked at Wolverine sympathetically.

"Oh, honey bear... when have I ever known what's good for me?" Deadpool asked in a loving tone.

Wolverine answered with a deadpan expression and merely unsheathed his claws quickly with a loud SNIKT.

Jumping with a loud yelp, Deadpool hurriedly ran out of his bedroom, hopping over the puddle of mysterious liquid on the floor before leaving the house for the grocery store.

[lizclipse]

i’m looking to switch to nix to manage stuff on everything and i’m starting with my mac but i don’t use one of the 2 shells nix-darwin supports so i actually can’t use it after hours to trying to figure out literally anything (how is the documentation for anything nix both good and fucking horrendous at the same time) and now it’s 2 in the fucking morning and i don’t know how it got so late and i’m just pissed man

[askamnesiamoonjumper]

me after editing the aau prologue for the bajillionth time

[camels-pen]

(i haven't read Whole Cake in a while, and i never really watched it, so bear with me)

I'd love to write a fic with Usopp on Whole Cake. it'd be sooo fucking long and i'd need to refresh myself on the entire arc, but god i'd probably be so satisfied when it's done. specifically for having brought a single moment in my head to life, but we'll get to that.

On Zou, he insists to be taken along on the Sanji rescue team and has worked himself up with a whole bunch of very good reasons as to why he should go there instead of helping in Wano, but of course Luffy just immediately accepts with a "yeah sure"

With Whole Cake, I think he'd be flipping between having fun as part of the idiot trio/quartet (Luffy, Chopper, Carrot), and being terrified with Nami. There wouldn't be that many differences in the arc as a whole, though; some things would be easier/better and some things would be worse- I don't necessarily think Usopp's presence would be overall an advantage or disadvantage, just different. Like, major events would stay mostly the same, but little details would change and maybe those little details would build to a far more drastic change-

for example, maybe one of Big Mom's kids considers themself a great sniper and wants a match with Usopp, or is motivated to work harder because Usopp is around and they want to take him out and boast about it. Maybe it means Sunny takes more damage than canon, or maybe Usopp's help means less damage to Sunny. (idk if i'd really do smth like this, but it's just an example)

skjdhf fuck i'm really not equipped to try and figure this out when i don't remember shit from Whole Cake aaaa

I do know that, despite his penchant for talking and rambling, I'd probably have Usopp be dead silent after his initial shock when Sanji fights Luffy. Everything about that is the same, except Usopp is just watching Sanji the whole time- not panicking, not moving, and not speaking. He doesn't say a word the entire time, doesn't even make a sound, and that, along with Luffy's words and Nami's begging, stick with Sanji.

(Usopp is thinking of his own fight with Luffy in Water 7, he's partially wondering if this was what it was like- if it was this painful to watch from the sidelines- and partially knowing he doesn't have to say a word, because he knew, like he knew back then, that it didn't matter what was said. It wasn't quite the same, but he could tell in the way Sanji moved, in the way he spoke and held himself, that he was putting on a front, trying to be brave in all the wrong ways. Usopp didn't say a word to Sanji because there was nothing he could say that Sanji himself didn't already know. Should've known. And his quiet, direct stare, was more than enough.)

the singular moment i really wanna write, is a scene where Sanji is apologizing for dragging them into his mess- either during the big meeting in Bege's castle or some other time- and Usopp's like "I'll do what you can't, you do what I can't, right?" and Sanji pauses, a little confused, until he remembers Enies Lobby and a stupid mask and cape and-

and tears are gathering in his eyes now, fuck, but he laughs a little. It sounds wet and his face is itchy and they're surrounded by tentative allies, but he- he laughs again and he says, "Fuck, you remembered that?"

Usopp shrugs, a little smile on his face. "They were some wise words from a wise man."

Sanji laughs a third time. "You think I'm wise?"

And they banter a little more before Bege tells them to quit it since they're on a time constraint or something. Quietly, Usopp will ask, "It-it helps. On bad days. And I figured, 'what's a worse day than this?' Ah, not that you getting married would ever be bad per se-"

"Usopp," Sanji says, looking more relaxed and settled. He smiles fondly and grabs his friend in a one armed hug, crushing him to his side. "Thanks."

And yeah, don't remember much beyond that, except the whole "hiding and then busting out of the cake" bit, which would mean Usopp in a cute little tuxedo or smth- maybe with a fedora aaaaaa <- loves fedoras- helping out with the fighting and eventually sailing with everyone to Wano.

He would be so distressed about fixing up Sunny now that the whole thing with Whole Cake is over. Maybe there'd be a gag about him promising Franky to take good care of Sunny while they were gone and being confident, after being Franky's tinkering partner and learning from him over time, that he could handle minor repair work much better than he did the first time around with Merry. And so when he finally takes in all the very-not-minor repairs he has to do, he's certain Franky is gonna strangle him for not keeping his promise. Probably also try to write in some nostalgic 'repairman Usopp' vibes from pre-Water 7.

Also something something, Sanji, wanting to do more for the crew bc he still feels guilty about Whole Cake, decides to take it upon himself to help Usopp not fall into a whole anxiety spiral about the ship. In turn, Usopp ends up helping Sanji not feel so guilty- usually by handing his own words back to him on a silver platter. And, yknow, having the two of them bonding and being buddies again like they so rarely get to be in canon nowadays qwq

[icewindandboringhorror]

[thedevotionaltour]

man. thinking about how my insurance is out of network i feel so fucked i have so much money owed in therapy bills. literally over 1k bc of my weird insurance happenings and also bc idk if insurance was even doing its thing before i dont know and just other various things im sure i've forgotten. man.

[afniel]

AH I REMEMBERED WHAT I WAS GONNA SAY EARLIER but it's kind of stupid, lmao.

So my partner is getting into brewing beer and I got them a Tilt, which is a Bluetooth hydrometer. It measures specific gravity and temperature, which are things you want to know so that you don't kill your yeast or whatever. Except the sensor's Bluetooth range is super short, and it basically runs via a phone app, and the temperature we're logging currently is the crawlspace, accessible via the staircase closet. So they were like, wait, what do we do about this, because I can't leave my phone in the closet, that's my alarm clock.

In a kind of ridiculous turn of life imitating art, I was like, hold up, I got just the thing right at my desk. Bam. Old phone. We just needed to scrounge up a charger because the battery is so dead that after charging just enough to power on it claimed it was at 53% (to be fair to it, there is a very real chance that it's correct, and it just holds no charge at this point so the capacity is just THAT low) and now it lives in the closet logging sensor data.

And I was like, you know...didn't I just solve a major story detail with a much larger version of this...yeah, no, this is all vaguely familiar somehow, power supply issues and all. Kind of cool that the concept works though. Kind of weird that it came up at all?

We are not gonna talk about the fact that I still have at least two more ancient-ass phones in a drawer where that came from because look, man, sometimes you just need a camera/mic/mini computer with Bluetooth and wifi that fits in a pocket, and people just get rid of these things, but not me. I actually could build a shitty security system out of them if I was reaaaally inclined. I mean. I'm not. But it's technically possible.

For real though, If I pick up any stupid maker projects I still high-key am thinking about slapping Bluetooth into a necomimi headset and running that through an Arduino and learning to code just enough to let me skip songs/change the volume on Spotify with my brain, because it's entirely doable, and I mean yeah I could do that on my phone remotely too, but that's not funny, now, is it. I'm just not sure it's $350+ of parts funny. Kind of a big investment just to prove the point that haha look I am the extremely ADHD type of lazy where I would rather solve a problem via the most convoluted and complicated Rube-Goldberg type ass machine way possible rather than just perform a single simple action.

YEAH I'VE BEEN THIS SCATTERED ALL DAY AND I REALLY SHOULD GO TO BED SHOULDN'T I. I started playing Satisfactory. Mistakes were made. I'm going to dream about conveyor belts again and I did it to myself...

[terryfuckingturniptruck]

Okay someone is going to be offended but whatever like fine if you find yourself as a lesbian thinking someone is hot and find out later they're a man and not a butch but like the way y'all are openly just pushing the idea that lesbians like men sometimes as if that's totally fine and that the man you thought was a butch is still okay to fuck knowing they're a man.

[bredforloyalty]

i don't think we do luv i don't think we do

[seilon]

god I wish I could rip Instagram apart with my teeth I hate it I hate it I hate it

[arsonamiright]

Ok yeah maybe melatonin DOES give you weird ass dreams

[ariaste]

listen ok so i made some good jokes yesterday about Lestat having an onlyfans but i am back today with a new essay and this one is entitled

Why The Invention Of Social Media Is Going to Permanently Save Loustat's Fucking Marriage

come on this journey with me.

ok so on one hand we have Louis, who does not like to leave the house except when he absolutely fucking has to and even then he resents it. my man wants to be at home with a book 100% of the time and he's so fucking valid for that. When he leaves the house, bad things happen to him. He has learned this and honestly i can't fault his evidence. it sucks out there. it truly incredibly sucks out there.

the problem is that sometimes he is married to lestat, who starts clawing at the walls if people aren't paying attention to him for 12 consecutive seconds, and being Out Of The House is the best place for him to go foraging for People To Pay Attention To Him. my man once had a rock star career the way that some people get addicted to meth brewed in a trashcan in someone's garage. Louis, through no fault of his own, is simply not capable of filling this psychological need no matter how hard he tries, except he should not even HAVE to try like that, because no one can do it, because Lestat is fucked up and like wasn't hugged enough as a child or something

this imbalance in their relationship is the core source of all their marital problems since day 1: THIS man's idea of a good time is chilling on the sofa in silence and maybe staring contemplatively at the wall for a while, and THIS man starts self-destructing at a truly astonishing rate if no one is making eye contact with him. If you make Louis go outside and socialize with people, he's miserable and sulking and whining about "are we done can we go home". If you make Lestat sit in silence in a chair for five minutes he starts crying and claiming that No One Has Ever Loved Him, Ever, Ever, And No One Understands Him, And He Hates Everyone In This House and He Is Being Actively Neglected And Cruelly Mistreated Right Now And No One Even Bothers To Feel Sorry For Him, This Is BASICALLY Domestic Violence Against Him Personally, If Only Anyone Knew About The Quiet Hidden Tragedies Of An Unhappy Marriage, and then he breaks some furniture and a window and isn't seen again for six weeks and comes back like "you will not believe what just happened, i [checks notes] met Merlin and also a dragon who gave me three wishes, brb i'm going to write another book about it :))))"

all you fucking have to do to fix their problems is to hand Lestat a cellphone and say the words "do you know about social media? you can say whatever shit you want and there's always someone awake in some time zone to talk to you." Suddenly Lestat is now very interested in sitting quietly on the couch, Lounging Alluringly and posting thirst traps on instagram and finally getting emotional fulfillment from all the likes and comments of "omg???? omg this is the hottest man alive". he does not have to leave the house anymore to get his attention meth. His yawning abyss of neediness is being fulfilled by having parasocial relationships with millions of strangers online who all think he's sexy and don't have to experience how fucking awful he is up close. he can flirt pointlessly with 200 people at once which is FINALLY ENOUGH FLIRTATIONS FOR HIM TO SATISFACTORILY JUGGLE

Meanwhile Louis is 3 feet away, vaguely reflecting to himself that HE is feeling all emotionally fulfilled because they're spending this great Quality Time together in perfect silence while he reads his book and Lestat plays on his cellular telephone and only OCCASIONALLY giggles to himself or says "louis which of these photos do you think is sexier, the one with four buttons undone or the one with five buttons undone" Louis is feeling like his Opinion is being Valued, Louis feels like he is being Consulted on Matters that are Important To Lestat. He has opinions about the photographs. It is not that much trouble to be interrupted from staring philosophically at the wall to spend five seconds looking at a photograph and then saying "that one". Finally he is experiencing Cozy Domesticity. he is so horny about it. lestat is surprised and bewildered about the sudden sharp increase in the amount of sex he is now getting but before he can make any vaguely mean comments about it (bc he's confused and vaguely defensive and worried that it's going to stop out of nowhere and he doesn't know any other interpersonal skills for expressing a thought) his phone pings about how he's just broken 5 million followers on instagram and he totally forgets to even mention the sex thing, which means that he continues getting the sex instead of inciting an argument about the sex and going through his 800th divorce from Louis

all their friends are extremely confused when a whole month, and then six months, and then a year goes by without another Loud Divorce happening and no one crashing through their front door like "I HAVE TO SLEEP IN YOUR GUEST COFFIN FOR THE NEXT MONTH, HE IS INTOLERABLE". They are worried. they are concerned. what is going on over there. are they both dead. no, they can't both be dead, Lestat just posted another tiktok of him sucking on his own fingers, which he would not be doing if Louis were dead. there is an ecosystem collapse happening in the groupchat and it's because the main Drama Vectors have been neutralized

[smollsmule]

Ok ok but you wanna know the real tea?? I've read several beach fics at this point (which are all awesome btw, y'all are amazing writers) and it's a beloved staple to have Edwin be somehwat scandalised at everyone's beach outfits not to mention all flustered from seeing Charles in swim wear. Which is a Good Trope, don't get me wrong, I love that just as much as the next person

HOWEVER

I think actually it's Charles who should be more shooketh about Edwin in his funky lil edwardian two piece!!

Picture this. The year is 1916. You are 16 year old Edwin Payne with a bunch of repressed gay thoughts. Much unpleasantness happens, you die and get dragged to hell, even more unpleasantness happens, 70 years later you finally manage to claw your way up and suddenly women are allowed to vote. There's been not one but two world wars, several countries you grew up reading about in the news don't exist anymore and mini skirts are a thing now.

All I'm saying is, for all the teasing Edwin gets for "What is a handjob?" and "Crystal's internet", this kid was essentially thrust into a scifi world full of weird shit and gets mostly by via an attitude which can only be paraphrases as "fuck it, this might as well be a thing (maybe ask Charles about it later)". King of adaption, master of radical acceptance.

Charles on the other hand, and I say this with only love in my heart, is at his core a boomer. He was there for every tiny gradual shift from '89 to modern day. Sure, he was dead for most of that time, but that's not really relevant. All I'm saying is, seeing the bbc announce marriage equality was probably a bigger shock to Charles than it was to Edwin. That's a guy who already had to accept he will never fully wrap his head around home television.

Also consider the states of undress they've been exposed to seeing the other in. Edwin was stripped to his underwear in hell and still had his knees and elbows covered. And that was probably a more exposing outfit than he'd ever be comfortable with. His usual casual get up features a sweater vest for crying out loud! Meanwhile you have Charles going full 'ceps out in his undershirt first chance he gets. Edwin either got real cool with a lot of shit real fast or he would have combusted several times over those 30 years.

And yes yes, we've all seen Edwin "Haunted By Gay Thoughts" Payne's mental slideshow of abs n hips close ups after getting one (1) glance at the Cat King's stomach. But to his credit, the man was going through a full blown sexuality crisis at that and has since emerged victorious.

So all I'm saying is. Edwin seeing Charles shirtless at the beach? Probably not even the first time this is happening, a lil flustering for sure but just last week he saw two people making out nasty on the tube so hell if he knows. Charles seeing Edwin's kneecaps and upper arms for the first time? Incredible, show stopping, pride and predjudice 2005 hand flex level of suppressed horniness.

Anyway. I'm writing this fic now and none of y'all can stop me.