#me and mari decided he would live and damn it he is

[vis3rys]

vis ending in dorn.e for me is so poetic because we are told he would've crossed the narrow sea in a heartbeat had he known of ariann.e and the wedding pact. viser.ys having someone like arianne around who is both ambitious yes, but also rational at times would ease him into settling. viserys not dying and actually getting an arc to heal from his abusive childhood and trauma during the war to making his sister endure some of that trauma by then, repenting by being there at the end.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Hey so like many of you, I saw that article about how people are going into college having read no classic books. And believe it or not, I've been pissed about this for years. Like the article revealed, a good chunk of American Schools don't require students to actually read books, rather they just give them an excerpt and tell them how to feel about it. Which is bullshit.

So like. As a positivity post, let's use this time to recommend actually good classic books that you've actually enjoyed reading! I know that Dracula Daily and Epic the Musical have wonderfully tricked y'all into reading Dracula and The Odyssey, and I've seen a resurgence of Picture of Dorian Gray readership out of spite for N-tflix, so let's keep the ball rolling!

My absolute favorite books of all time are The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Classic psychological horror books about unhinged women.

I adore The Bad Seed by William March. It's widely considered to be the first "creepy child" book in American literature, so reading it now you're like "wow that's kinda cliche- oh my god this is what started it. This was ground zero."

I remember the feelings of validation I got when people realized Dracula wasn't actually a love story. For further feelings of validation, please read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There's a lot the more popular adaptations missed out on.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is an absolute gem of a book. It's a slow-build psychological study so it may not be for everyone, but damn do the plot twists hit. It's a really good book to go into blind, but I will say that its handling of abuse victims is actually insanely good for the time period it was written in.

Moving on from horror, you know people who say "I loved this book so much I couldn't put it down"? That was me as a kid reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Picked it up while bored at the library and was glued to it until I finished it.

Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie was also a childhood favorite of mine. Next time someone bitches about Woke Casting, tell them that the original 1911 Peter Pan novel had canon nonbinary fairies.

Watership Down by Richard Adams is my sister Cori's favorite book period. If you were a Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole or Wings of Fire kid, you owe a metric fuckton to Watership Down and its "little animals on a big adventure" setup.

A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry was a play and not a book first, but damn if it isn't a good fucking read. It was also named after a Langston Hughes poem, who's also an absolutely incredible author.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a book I absolutely adore and will defend until the day I die. It's so friggin good, y'all, I love it more than anything. You like people breaking out of fascist brainwashing? You like reading and value knowledge? You wanna see a guy basically predict the future of television back in 1953? Read Fahrenheit.

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee are considered required reading for a reason: they're both really good books about young white children unlearning the racial biases of their time. Huck Finn specifically has the main character being told that he will go to hell if he frees a slave, and deciding eternal damnation would be worth it.

As a sidenote, another Mark Twain book I was obsessed with as a kid was A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Exactly what it says on the tin, incredibly insane read.

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin is a heartbreaking but powerful book and a look at the racism of the time while still centering the love the two black protagonists feel for each other. Giovanni's Room by the same author is one that focuses on a MLM man struggling with his sexuality, and it's really important to see from the perspective of a queer man living in the 50s– as well as Baldwin's autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain.

Agatha Christie mysteries are all still absolutely iconic, but Murder on the Orient Express is such a good read whether or not you know the end twist.

Maybe-controversial-maybe-not take: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov is a good book if you have reading comprehension. No, you're not supposed to like the main character. He pretty much spells that out for you at the end ffs.

Animal Farm by George Orwell was another favorite of mine; it was written as an obvious metaphor for the rise of fascism in Russia at the time and boy does it hit even now.

And finally, please read Shakespeare plays. As soon as you get used to their way of talking, they're not as hard to understand as people will lead you to believe. My absolute favorite is Twelfth Night- crossdressing, bisexual love triangles, yellow stockings... it's all a joy.

and those are just the ones i thought of off the top of my head! What're your guys' favorite classic books? Let's make everyone a reading list!

[gay-dorito-dust]

I'm curious, how did wade and logan meet isekai gremlin reader? Did reader just fall from the sky and landed beside the two unharmed? We know wade breaks the fourth evrytime because his sentient and logan had seen worse sp if reader just straight up tells the two that they are from another universe the two would just😐👍okay. They woulb be ubothered by it

Wade and Logan first met you when they were having shawarma. It was a nice day, nothing could possibly go wrong until…

‘Ow fuck!’ You groaned as you got up from a seemingly never ending fall through the void, only to realised that you didn’t hurt as badly as you thought you did when you went to run your arm. ‘Don’t know why I said ow fuck when that didn’t actually hurt being with.’ You then murmur to yourself as you looked up to see the portal you fell from close assumably forever.

‘Did god kick you out of heaven little angel? Did you do something naughty? Blasphemous even?’ Wade asked, swallowing his last bit of shawarma, wiping himself down before he let Dogpool run your feet as you smiled down at the cutes dog you’ve ever seen. Some would say she’s ugly, the most ugliest dog they’ve ever met, but to you she’s perfect with her lopsided tongue and scruffy appearance.

‘He fucking wishes but no, I’m not an angel nor did I come from heaven.’ You told Wade as you picked up Dogpool, unbothered by the excessive licking to the face, you’d like to call it her showing you her unconditional love and affection.

‘Then where did you come from?’ Logan asked, completely unfazed by this and the dog licking your face excessively.

You shrug, not caring whether you sounded nuts for saying it. ‘Another dimension.’ You proclaimed.

Wade and Logan looked at each other before looking at you again.

‘Ah! Another overused and abused Isekai trope fanfic, like that’s surprising to anyone reading this.’ Wade then said to no one in particular.

‘The fuck is that supposed to mean scrotum face?’ You replied, holding Dogpool closer in your arms when you noticed that Wade was planing on taking her off your hands, no one was going to take this cute doggy from your hands, you’ve only met this cutie and you’d kill everyone before killing yourself if anything happened to her.

‘Look bub, Wade over here talks out of his ass, so it’s best not to take anything he says seriously.’ Logan answered for you as he got up from his seat groaning. He’s been alive for far too long to act surprised at anything at this point. A pig could sprout wings or suddenly talk and Logan wouldn’t find this out of the ordinary, that or he just was too tired and perpetually annoyed at everything to feel anything outside of that.

‘Now that our meet cute is over and done with, papa is going to need his little Mary Poppins back now.’ Wade reached out to grab Dogpool but you took a step back, still holding her close to your chest.

‘No.’ You told him. ‘She’s my Mary Poppins now.’

Wade gasps ‘are we entering our enemies to friends to lovers, 300k words, slow burn phase?’

You looked to Logan who only shrugs his shoulders. ‘I’ve got not a fucking clue what he just said just now.’ You then looked back to Wade and then little Dogpool, who was still licking your face, before deciding to bolt down the street. ‘YOU’ll never take me alive!’

You could hear Wade and Logan simultaneously cursing as they proceeded to follow after you, and at one point you could’ve sworn you heard Wade yell, ‘MY BABY! PAPA AND PAPA ARE COMING SWEETIE DONT WORRY!’ Before hearing Logan hit him in the back of the head saying, ‘damn it Wade! I ain’t no damn papa!’

You couldn’t help but laugh as you, with Dogpool in your arms, continued to run as far as you could with no real destination in mind, maybe this new dimension wouldn’t be so bad if this is how you got to live everyday. You couldn’t mind it one bit.

[sidemari]

• No other choice •

A Dead by Daylight NSFW One-Shot.

Character included: Danny Johnson (Ghostface) x Fem!Reader

TW: Coercion, fingering (female receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, dirtytalk, swearing, stalking behavior, unhealthy relationship, reader's distorted feelings, death mentions, violence.

Mari's notes: This is a dark content post. Do not read it if you're uncomfortable with those kinds of works. Only 18+ people can interact.

You were so close.

The five generators already built, the exit gate almost completely open.

That was when the game really started.

He decided he was tired of being merciful to his stupid prey.

In a few minutes, the other three survivors had their lives taken, right in front of you, in an obscene and twisted way enough to make you nauseous.

You ran as fast as you could, searching for the hatch somewhere on the map, trying desperately to save your life.

After what seemed like decades, you finally found the hatch, along with a Ghostface already surrounding it.

He had closed the hatch before you could reach it.

The exit gates were not an option, he would easily catch up with you.

All that was left for you was to try to find some key left in a chest by the Entity.

You ran away again, trying to come up with a plan in your mind.

"I'm fucked." You whispered to yourself as you ran. Your legs were exhausted from the excessive effort, your speed decreasing steadily as the trial went on.

Reaching the main building on the map, you looked back for the first time since your sprint. He was on your heels.

"Damn you." you said harshly, preparing to run through a series of windows, thinking that this would give you some advantage in your escape.

"It's useless." He laughed. "You're just postponing your destiny." He followed you through the interior of the building, hunting you like prey, his determination to catch you stronger than ever. "Hey, bunny... You played well, but not well enough to escape."

"Son of a bitch." You cursed, losing speed as you jumped window by window.

"Ouch, that hurt." He pretended to be hurt by your words. "Oh, bunny... When I catch up with you..." He sighed, imagining everything he could do to you.

It was the last window.

And you were exhausted.

"Shit!" Your vision blurred and dizziness took over you. Stepping wrong, you twisted your foot in an extremely painful way, causing a scream of discomfort.

The shock paralyzed you for a few seconds and those seconds were enough for him to reach you.

Your eyes widened and you limped towards the window, but it was in vain. The pain was excruciating and you wouldn't be able to jump to the floor below as easily as you wanted.

"Gotcha!"

Ah, the fear.

The most primal instinct for survival.

The despair and hopelessness.

He could feel these feelings exuding from your exhausted body.

His hands gripped your waist tightly, stopping your ridiculous idea of ​​jumping through the last window towards the floor below as your last available resort.

"I told you it was useless." He grunted, pulling your body closer. "Look at you... You only hurt yourself." His head tilted to the side in false concern. "You're the last survivor of the trial, you should cooperate with me if you want to get out of here alive."

"Please..." You whimpered. "Let me go! You've already killed all three of them..."

"And you think you're more deserving of staying alive than they were, love?" You cringed at the pet name.

"No... It's just..." Tears formed in the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall at any moment. "We were so close..."

You wiped your tears away furiously, cursing yourself internally for showing weakness in front of a killer.

"Oh, bunny, I don't want to see you cry." He squeezed your waist with his hands as a vile way of reassuring you. "Not because you were unlucky, at least."

You accepted that there was no way out. Would he use his Memento Mori on you? Or would he let you bleed on the hook until the Entity took your soul?

Your gaze was lost.

Completely empty, lifeless.

The adrenaline already absent made you wish it would end as soon as possible.

"Kill me already." You whispered. "Please." Your tone of voice made his heart flutter in pleasure.

"No, bunny, you misunderstood. If you cooperate with me, I'll let you go. All you have to do is tell me whether or not you accept this proposal."

"What do you want from me?"

"I don't want something from you, I want you. All of you." He whispered against your ear, pulling your body impossibly close to his so you could feel his erection poking at your back.

Your eyebrows furrowed in disgust.

"No... I... I've never done that." You mumbled, shaking your head no.

"You'd rather bleed to death, I see." The sharp blade of his knife scraped against the skin of your neck, causing a small cut yet deep enough to bleed. "What a shame. You were a fun survivor to chase." He was about to plunge the blade into your neck when you whimpered an extremely pathetic "Wait."

"Hmm?" He chuckled. "What's wrong, bunny? Changed your mind?"

You examined his mask before whispering that you were willing to cooperate with him.

"Good choice, bunny. You're smarter than you look." He pulled you into one of the rooms in the building, causing you to hiss in discomfort due to your foot.

It was a bedroom.

Ruined, but it was a bedroom.

A working generator caused a constant noise in the ambience.

You looked at it sadly.

All that effort... And for what?

"Take off your clothes." He ordered, swinging the knife in his hand.

You stood still, not having the courage to start undressing.

"Did you fucking hear me?" He growled, venom dripping from his words.

Your trembling hands went towards the buttons of your shirt, unbuttoning them one by one with difficulty. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, so with the last button undone, the shirt slid to the floor, exposing your breasts to him.

Underneath the mask, his pupils dilated with lust. He was so ready to fuck you right there, but he waited patiently for you to undo your pants and boots.

"Your panties come off too." He murmured with pleasure when you hesitated, stepping closer.

You removed the last piece of clothing, a sinister shiver running down your spine.

"What are you going to do to me?" You asked him, anxiety written all over your voice.

His hands pulled your body against his, making your breasts press against his torso and you whimpered at the sensation.

"Oh, my little bunny..." He breathed against your ear. "I'm going to fuck you so hard... I'm going to fuck you until you lose all your remaining strength." You shivered in anticipation.

"Lay down." He gestured to the king-sized bed behind you and you obeyed him without resistance.

He removed the glove from his dominant hand, using his thumb to tease your clit before his middle and ring fingers collected the essence dripping from your sex.

"Fuck, you're so wet." He sneered. "You were fighting for your life just now and you're this wet? What a slut"

"Ghostface..." You whispered.

"Danny. Call me Danny"

"Danny..."

He removed his characteristic mask, revealing an extremely handsome face underneath it. You became absorbed in him, your gaze getting lost in his dark brown eyes. How could such a handsome man be so vile?

His fingers penetrated you, stretching you and preparing you to receive him soon. You could barely stand him masturbating you with both fingers, the burning sensation was present and very real.

"It hurts..." You whimpered, trying to close your legs only to have them forcefully opened.

"You're so tight, bunny... Fuck, I wonder how you'll be able to handle me fucking you good" His movements became faster and your thoughts more confused.

"Danny..." You whispered, catching the man's attention.

"Yes, my love?" Again, that pet name.

"Fuck me already"

How those two little words had unleashed something dark inside him.

You, a naively pure survivor, asking a guy like him to fuck you?

"Hmm, I don't think I heard you right." He pulled his fingers from your sex, licking them to taste you. "Fuck, you taste so good." He practically whimpered, before pulling you into a kiss, allowing you to taste a trace of your own essence on his tongue. He then sucked your tongue with his lips before moving his kiss down to your neck.

"Even after a trial, you still smell so good..." His tongue abused the sensitive spot below your ear, marking the skin with a painful hickey. "Repeat what you said moments ago, bunny." He kissed your breasts before sucking them urgently.

"I asked you to fuck me." You whispered, your hands caressing his dark hair as he busied himself with your breasts. "I want to feel you inside me, marking me as yours, making others know that I belong to you."

"Fuck, bunny... I didn't know you were that dirty." He laughed. "Asking to be fucked by a serial killer? That's sexy as hell. But if this is just manipulation, ah... I'll make you bitterly regret deceiving me." He threatened, his hand now squeezing your neck strong enough to make you loose your breath for some seconds.

It wasn't manipulation.

You just had no other choice.

Either you got into his twisted ideas and tried to take advantage of that bizarre and disgusting situation so you could save your life or you would just wait for it all to end miserably.

His teeth bit your nipple gently, making your body shudder beneath him and moans of pleasure leave your mouth.

"Ready?" He asked, tilting his head to the side in curiosity. You hummed, watching him remove his tunic, his cock freeing itself from the prison of fabrics. You nodded, allowing him to crawl between your legs, his cock lining up with the entrance of your vagina.

He penetrated you in one go, reaching as deep inside you as he could.

You whimpered, your legs wrapping around his waist instinctively and your nails digging into the skin of his back, scratching him so deliciously that he almost came on the spot.

A few tears of discomfort wet your cheeks, but he wiped them away carefully, reassuring you.

"Hey, it's okay... You did it." Your eyebrows furrowed in pain and your breathing was labored.

"Danny..." You were feeling so sensory overloaded that it hurt. "It hurts so much..."

"Shh... I know, my bunny, I know." He kissed your lips gently. "Still, I'm going to start moving." And with that, the thrusts began. During the very first moments they were slow, but then they became violent.

You wished he would be more gentle since it was your first time, but you could barely say anything other than his name, much less formulate a sentence about how all of this was too much for you to handle.

"Fuck, squeeze me with your pussy, go on." He grunted between the thrusts, your cunt involuntarily contracting around him hard enough to make him see heaven. "That's it, just like that... You're so good for me, bunny." He groaned, his thumb stimulating your clit with just the right amount of pressure to make you melt beneath him.

"Danny!" You moaned as he stimulated that exact sensitive spot inside you in the most delicious way yet. "Fuck, that feels so good..."

"Oh really? My bunny likes to be fucked by her owner?" His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks. "Tell me, bunny, you've always wanted someone to fuck you as good as I do, haven't you?" He teased you, a cruelly malicious smile plastered on his face.

"Yes, it's t-true." You whimpered, your orgasm so close it hurt. "Faster." You begged, your nails leaving marks on his broad back. He obeyed your request, the pace of his thrusts getting viciously faster, fast enough to bring you both absurdly close to your climax.

"You're so fucking hot" He sighed, his hips moving erratically. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum."

"Me too..." You cried back.

"Cum with me, bunny. Cum good around my cock like the good little slut you are." Your vision blurred as the first wave of pleasure hit you. After that, many more came, your walls contracting around his cock in a wonderful way.

You felt something warm invade your insides without warning, earning a sigh from your lips. Your hands held his face gently, your eyes meeting his.

He smiled at you before pulling you into a tender kiss, unlike the previous ones that were full of need and lust. He ended the kiss with a few pecks, his hand tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear.

"You were so good, my bunny." He pulled out of you, making you mewl at his absence. He closed your legs gently, not wanting a single drop of his cum to go to waste. "I should have proposed this silly game sooner, shouldn't I? I've had my eye on you for quite some time now."

"Danny..." You murmured, your hand caressing his cheek, soon combing his brown hair with your fingers in devotion.

Why were you feeling so complete?

This guy is a serial killer and yet you had never felt so safe and so... Desired?

"Here, a morning-after pill." He offered you the medicine that was inside the pocket of his tunic. "You're in your fertile period, as far as I remember. We can't risk having a child now, can we?"

"H-How do you know?"

"I know a lot about you, bunny. Unimaginable things."

You shivered.

Why did his obsession in you feel terrifying yet so oddly interesting?

"Get dressed, I'll guide you to the hatch. There was a key in a chest that a survivor left open on the map." He rummaged through the same pocket he had gotten the medicine. "Think fast!" He said before throwing the key in your direction, which you caught easily, looking at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

"Really?" You asked uncertainly. "I thought you were going to get rid of me right after we had sex."

"I made a deal with you, remember? I said that if you cooperated, you would get out of here alive. And besides, I'm not going to get rid of you so soon, not after I marked you as mine."

You got dressed at the same time as his words repeatead in your mind. The mask was back on, but he didn't look as scary as before.

"Come on, the hatch is to the south. Lean on me so you don't put too much strain on your twisted foot."

How thoughtful.

Once there, you used the key to open your way out of that trial.

"Thanks, Danny." You whispered.

"Always, bunny." He squeezed your hand one last time. "See you next time."

[icarusredwings]

Howling

A sfw puppy Logan fic

pt 1 Bad boy

pt 2 Howling

pt 3 Good boy

Cw: Abandonment, Separation Anxiety, Anger, Throwing up, Feelings of Betrayal, Grounding, Self soothing, Happy ending. Cursing.

Hearing the door click, Logan brings his head up again, somberly coming to the window, watching as Wade left, taking Mary with him. And how here he was... Alone.... again.

A soft whine comes from his throat, putting a hand on the window, touching the figure of the man until he couldn't see him anymore.

The small whine turns into a whimper, and then a cry before morphing into a growl.

Where to begin? Oh, let's pretend we never met

So I can disappear a moment.

Hoping off the couch, he grumbles, huffing with a spit of spite. Glancing at the counter, his nose catches a whiff of the chicken. Snarling, he jumps up onto the counter, taking the bag between his teeth before throwing it on the floor.

I've been tryna swim with both my hands behind my back

My dear, I always feared the ocean.

Jumping down, he shakes his head, ripping the bag into shreds, popping open the lid of the chicken parm. Wade had told him not to eat it, but who cares. He was bad, right? And this was bad. If he wanted him to be bad, then he would be bad. He chose this. He left him here, abandoned him here. So why shouldn't he? Wade said he wasn't allowed to eat Puppin's food either, so fuck it, he'll eat his.

And somehow, this one word in my mouth

Was left unspoken.

Scarfing down the entire meal within only a minute, He grumbles, leaving the trash and mess here, licking his hands of the tomato sauce. Moving onto the bread, Logan devours the entire basket, struggling to swallow that last one. Gagging, his stomach was tight and still felt so empty, his chest, once warm, now cold. Tears fell from his eyes, a growl in his throat.

Breathing, he shifts to sit, chest heaving as he groans. He hasn't eaten this fast in so long.. the preasure in his throat made him shake his head, growling as if his body would obey. Gagging again, he has no choice but to puke up the bread, only half digested, if at all.

And I won't admit my parents split when I got sick

But I refuse to be a burden..

Whimpering, he wipes his mouth, lowering his head, leaving the kitchen to the livingroom. Glancing at the pink pet bed, he snarls, huffing as he jerked himself away. Entering the bed room, Logan can smell Wade. He can smell him so greatly in here. Jumping up on the freshly made bed, he sniffs at the folded clothes. The laundry soap hurt his nose. The cheap stuff was always too strong.

Shoving them off, he manages to find a pile that smelled just like him. Burrying his face into them, Logan wiped his tears on the clothes, nuzzling against them, scenting Wade's clothes to smell like him. Shifting around, he digs, burries, moves, packs, and hides in the linens.

And I said

"Is there something keeping me here for the minute, darling?

Burrowing under them all, he stays in this nest of smells, cotton and polyester keeping him warm, the artificial kind that one could try their best to replicate .. but it would never be the same. It would never live up to Wade's hot skin against his on rainy mornings. His warm smile and laugh that made his stomach feel like he just ate a harty homecooked meal.

Growling, he takes his pillow into his mouth, shaking his head a bit with more bark to his bite only to whine, pouting some as he lays his head down, the smell of him being too much to actually shred the pillow. If this pillow smelt like Wade.. and He hurt it.. that was like hurting Wade.

But he didn't want to hurt wade.. not at all. Letting out a big sigh, he holds the pillow close, whining softly as singleton tears decide to vacation to his cheeks. He can't help it. It frustrates him. He didn't want to cry. Bad boys were angry. Mean. Disobedient. But how was he supposed to be disobedient when he was so god damn loyal? How was he supposed to be mean when he was so fucking loved? And how was he suppsoed to feel angry and alone if Wade's stuffies were warm and in his den with him?

Did you find the key and what is the meaning of it? 'Cause honey, sometimes I feel this

emptiness, howling out.."

The deep pain of being abandoned in his stomach was something he was used too. The loneliness was commonplace. But the emptiness in his chest from lack of touch was something he would never get used too. He remembered when he was young. When the fur of his candid siblings would keep him warm even if it was snowing a blizzard out. Logan whimpers, remembering how he would call for them. How they would call for him, his mother wolf telling him to come back to the den. When he got lost from the pack and needed someone to lead him back..

You're not alone, the world is small

And I am sick of all the talk of finding purpose

The first one is small. Barley a noise. The second one holds for about 3 seconds. By the 4th one his head goes back, a more natural sound coming from him. It's low, it's loud. It's home.

He waited a few seconds between them, about 30 before doing it again, some higher pitched then others. Some with more vibration. Others straight out of a yellowstone documentary.

Logan doesn't understand why he doesn't answer him. Why he won't come to save him. Whimpering, he snuggles deeper into the den made of blankets, pillows, clothing, and stuffed animals. The howls get quieter. Less frequent. And he dreams.

Dreams of the sweet gentle touches he was now used to compared to the harsh whips across his back and cold chains around his neck. He was always alone. Traveling through the north like a lone wolf who was only ever a shadow. Trying to be barely noticed but always spotted. Always hated. Told to get out, scram, shoo. Always greeted with the cock of a shotgun.

But the click of Wade's pistol was far more welcoming. Far gentler. He didn't tell him to shoo. In fact, he wanted him close. He held him close. In his arms. Each and ever night. Like the tiny pup he once was.

Love comes and goes but the big black dog, he trails along

Am I the only one who knows him now?

He's reminded when he was part of a tribe. His own pack. He remembers feeling bad because he had ripped yet another blanket that they worked so hard on making for him. It's vivid in his mind, sitting close to him, defeated and ashamed. His hand came to his shoulder in such a kindness. A way that made not even the jumpiest of men calm.

He said, "A fight is going on inside me," he told the man, "A fight between two wolves."

"Wolves, huh?" He asks, quiet as he cletched his fists, unclenching them to try to loosen up the bone in his forearm.

"The Dark one is evil - he is anger, envy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego." He continued, "The Light Wolf is good - he is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion, and faith. The same fight is going on inside you…."

Logan stops, looking up at him with a skeptical brow. They had found him with the wolves, it was true, but how much could he possibly know about him? He always hated people like this.. that just knew.. and somehow, they brought him a great comfort. It meant he had to speak less. His claws retract into his skin.

"And inside of every other person on the face of this earth.”

The outside man ponders this for a moment and then asks, "....which wolf will win?"

The old Cherokee smiled and simply said, "The one you feed".

His head tilts the other way, going quiet before speaking. "... You want me to feed both of them.. don't you?"

He smiles, nodding with a soft chuckle. "You fit well here, You should stay."

"No..I don't want to be a bother."

"You aren't a bother to us, wayiga.. We would let you know." The elderly man chuckles again.

Logan shakes his head while looking at his lap. He's already stayed here too long. "What does that mean?"

"Wolverine."

But he's scared. Terrified that Wade will meet that big black dog and decide he doesn't want an old mutt, but a young pup who obeyed. He was afraid that one day Wade would become fed up with him. Unable to handle that black dog's tantrums and teeth that bite the hand that fed him. The one that snarled and snapped.. afraid Wade much preferred the obedient pet that everyone so desperately wanted from him..

Either way.. he best savor this warm, comfortable bed while he still had the chance. Before Wade kicked him to the curb and a cardboard box became his home. How far were the woods from here? Miles of solidarity sounded nice right about now.. but he still wanted Wade's hugs. Early in the morning.. late at night.

He dreams about them, head tucked deep under the pile of warmth. Let's hope Wade wasn't angry with him when he returned.. let's hope Wade adored the big wolf inside of him and not just the pup who so desperately wanted to be held..

_____

"Wilson! Did you get another dog!?"

The man jumps, holding the bags and large dog bed over his shoulder "Uh..... noo..?"

"Then what is that!?" The nosey woman from down the hall points to his back.

"Ooohh! This? Nooo I just- they're for Mary! You know Mary right? My BLIND room mate's seeing eye dog?"

She crosses her arms, raising a brow. "Then why isn't she with her?"

Wade gives an offended look. "Whaat? Are you implying that service dogs don't get any downtime? Are you saying they should work 24/7?? How insensitive!! Ugh! Im SOO reporting this to the building manager!" He complains, making the woman flick her cigarette.

"Hmph... fine. But just so you know, your 'not new dog' has been howling since you left."

"He's been.." For a split second, Wade is confused. Howling...? Logan. The scarred man gasps loudly, his eyes brightening and smile widening across his cheeks ear to ear. "He has!?? Oh thats wonderful! Oi- but I still don't have another dog... don't snitch, bitch." He says, giving her the 'im watching you' gesture as she rolls her eyes, shutting her apartment door.

Honestly, he's not sure why he came in through the hallway instead of the back. He didn't think about nosey neighbors, obviously.

Coming to the door he struggles with the keys, rambling to himself with an excited giggle. "Wolvie? Loagie don't worry, baby I'm comin! Daddy's comin, Peanut!" He says, opening the door with a big smile, putting the stuff down on the couch, opening his arms expecting Logan to greet him only to be greeted with a mess.

"Logan! I bought you a- oh what did you do?" Again, a simple blink, and he got it. He gasps. "Oooh, my poor puppy! You got upset - Omg! Mary, don't eat that! I know you're gross princess, but I draw the line at eating daddy's vomit."

There was a soft, whimper of a howl.

"You hear that, honey? Come on. Let's help daddy. Say Ahwwooooo!"

Though mary's howl sounded more like a chihuahua version of "Arwooowoowoo!"

Another, fuller, more confident howl comes from the bedroom as Wade giggles, coming in with a big gasp, opening his arms again, ready to be jumped on.

"Hiii big boy! Are you comfy in your big bed?"

With an embaressed blush, Logan huffs, whining at him and burrying deeper into the pile, so much that his feet stick out the other side.

"Look at all this? You made a big mess, didn't you? And ate all Papa's chicken? Yeah? Oh, you, Naughty boy!" But it was playful. "Was it good? Tch, better have been for 15$..."

From the fearful and submissive licklipping coward, to a big whining oversized puppy, coming out of the den with a wiggle. Wade was magic like that.. the worst of shadows turned bright without a moments notice.

Yawning, Logan bows, streaching, a final show of respect and submission in hopes to be forgiven for all the naughty behavior. Besides.. he wasn't used to being in a house. Still, even after an entire year and a half, he still felt new here. At least this version of Logan did.

"Yeah? Oh, biiiiig streach. Just needed a nap, did ya? Yeah? Well- Fuck all that laundry I guess. Oh well. Clean enough." He places a hand on the bed next to Logan, testing the boundaries of closeness.

When Logan didn't try to bite his hand off and sat here with that guilty look on his face but such innocent eyes, he sat down. "So.. I saw you threw up.. are you feeling okay?" He asks, dropping the puppy talk, instead being serious.

Swallowing, logan shifts to back away, lowering his head, looking at him as if Wade was about to call him a bad boy again.

"I..." Wade thought having a feeling that perhaps leaving him here wasn't the best thing.. but he knew Logan would kill someone if they looked at him wrong at the pet shop. "Look... Logan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have... well, actually, Im sorry for two things. One, I'm sorry for calling you bad. You're such a good boy. You were just.. frustrated. And that's probably why you ate all that food. Im assuming - from past experiences that you scarfed it down without chewing properly because you were mad at me. And im sorry for making you so upset that you threw up. An-and im sorry for lea-"

The look on Logan's face and the tilt of his head made Wade smile. It said 'I know. Now shut up and give me the stuff you bought me'

Laughing a bit, He shakes his head. "How are you so expressive??"

Logan tilts his head the other way, as if hearing 'Blahblahblah good boy blahblahblah'

He sighs. "No- don't look at me like that. Put those big eyes away. Jesus- you need contacts or something. How hasn't anyone tried to take them yet? Anyway- Im sorry.. for leaving you when you needed me. I just.. I guess I've never really knew how to handle stuff like this. I'm new to this, y'know? So.. I'll try harder. And if you howl, ill awnser. Promise." He puts his pinky out with a half smile.

Leaning forward, Logan sniffs the finger, licking it and then put it in his mouth, giving it a soft chew only to pull away, putting his hand, fingers curled in, on top of his hand with a proud smile. The type that said 'is this what you want? Am I a good boy?'

Laughing, Wade shakes his head. "You are just too cute. How could anyone not want you, hm? You're just precious. I might just die from it...Well, here lemme show you your new bed."

He gets up, starting to walk back to the couch, Logan sits, unsure if he should follow.

"And Daddy bought you a bone and your own bowl, so no more taking puppins food, okay? After this, ill clean up and feed you your own special food, mkay? What are you feeling? Cereal for dinner? Since you ate what I was planning to have..."

Logan frowns, becoming a bit nervous, watching him from the edge of the bed, acting like he was too afraid to jump off. Why was Wade going to the door? Was he kicking him out? What was all those words? He said he was a good boy, so why was he kicking him out of the pack? Was he that bad?

Whimpering loudly, he flattens himself on the bed, dead weighting. If Wade wanted to take him from his pack, he'd have to drag him.

"Oh, Logan come're sweetie! Come on. Comere!" He pats his legs and instantly Logan perks up. Oh man.. he wanted to come. He wanted to follow Wade until the end of the world. But he was scared.. what if he had saw his dark wolf?

Throwing his head back, he howls, a very whiney, pup like call.

In the livingroom, Wade giggles, glancing at puppin's. "I think you have competition for the cutest puppy in the universe, Princess. Comin' Peanut!" He calls, Howling loudly back as he came. "What's wrong, pup?"

Very gently, he crouches down, hands on the bed, letting Logan sniff his face before rolling over, showing him he was sorry, softly licking his forehead. "Awwhooowhoo.."

"Awwhooo!" Wade says, hand coming to his cheek. "Don't worry baby..I'm not mad at you....but you should probably stop howling. The bitch across the hall is gonna call the building manager."

Smiling widely, Logan howls again, louder and more realistic, confident. "Arroooowh!"

"Hey I just- aw what the hell. Arroooo!"

The giggles that followed and the nuzzling of noses were everything that Logan had ever wanted.

Wade had seen his dark wolf. And he loved him just as much as the light furred pup under all that tough skin.

He fed both wolves.

Even if one's teeth were sharper than the others.

[zepskies]

Wake Me Up - Part 4

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Summary: A few weeks after you and Ben celebrate your first Christmas together, Ben is returning from another mission with the Supe Affairs team. When he discovers that you’ve been taken, he’ll do whatever it takes to find you. And then, to help you heal.

AN: The moment we've all been waiting for...

Song Inspo: “I Can Read Your Mind” by the Doobie Brothers.

Word Count: 4.6K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! PTSD, medical trauma, angst, hurt/comfort, smut and feels (and "herb" smoking lol).

💚 Wake Me Up Masterlist || Break Me Down Masterlist

Part 4: “The Power in You”

In the morning, you woke before the man sleeping beside you. The longer you stared at his peaceful face, the more you wanted to remember why your heart ached just looking at him. And after last night, you couldn’t doubt him anymore. 

Ben cared about you. Your heart could even hope to believe that he loved you, even if that hope surprised you.

He made you feel comfortable and warm. He made you feel safe.

So with these thoughts on your mind, you carefully slipped out of bed and got freshened up for the day. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and when you padded out into the living room on bare feet, you found the rest of the apartment empty.

Marie must’ve gone to work already, you realized, as it was nearly 10:00 a.m. Instead of going into the kitchen for your usual ritual of coffee and rummaging for breakfast, you found yourself all too curious about the man still snoring down the hall.

You decided to venture into the office you apparently shared with him. There was a big crate of vinyl records, a few of which featured Ben on them with various artists of the 70s and 80s. The cheesy album covers made you smile in amusement.

You moved on to the books on the shelves. Most of these seemed to be from your collection, as you recognized your favorites. Your fingers brushed over their dusty spines.

The pads of your fingers paused over something binder-like, not book-like. You pulled it out and realized it was a photo album. So, bringing it over to Ben’s large leather chair, you sat down and flipped it open.

The first pictures were in black and white. You didn’t recognize the young woman in one of them. Not until you saw her again next to a tall, stoic looking man, who had Ben’s facial structure and broad frame. You saw the young and cocky versions of Ben distilled in sepia tones, and it made a smirk pull at your lips.

The further you flipped through the album, the more your attention got sucked in. There was an old-school polaroid of you with Frenchie and Kimiko, sharing milkshakes. Then you and Annie, clinking cocktails together. Followed by you and M.M. trying to beat Butcher at Backgammon. 

And then one of you, your friend Yvette, and her son Devon in Central Park. Another beside it, on that same day, where Ben had an arm raised high and parallel to the ground, and Devon clung onto his arm with a wide smile.

You brushed your fingers over that picture in wonder. You didn’t remember that day, even though you were sure you must have been there…

It was so odd to see so much of your life in pictures, yet it was all still so fuzzy, or entirely blank in your mind.

You paused, blushing once again when you saw the picture of you getting out of the shower with the towel barely wrapped around you. Why the hell would this be in a photo album?

You quickly moved on. Though you stopped next at a picture of you and Ben in what looked like a dark nightclub. The way he was holding you, looking at you like he was ready to devour you, and the way you were looking up at him, with a smile that said he’d better damn well try…

It made a sharp pain lance behind your eyes.

You gasped and held a hand to your temple, flinching at the sudden sensation. You’d taken your medication. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

But your vision altered. In your mind’s eye, you saw a dark club where people were dancing to Latin pop. You were clothed in black leather and flashing lights, and someone was spinning you across the dance floor.

As the scenes began to change in flashes, the pain in your head intensified. You whimpered and gripped your head with both hands. The photo album slid off your lap and to the floor.

You remembered being tied to a chair, staring up at Ben’s stoic face. And there were so many other faces you knew that you knew: Hughie and Annie, M.M., Butcher, Kimiko, Frenchie, Frank, Loco, Saul, your mother and sister, Grace, Stan Edgar, your father, Jon…

And Ben. He was standing over you, with worried eyes. You were pinned to the ground this time—a sharp pain in your shoulder.  

“Stay awake.” It was both an order and a plea as the walls of a tower fell around you. 

But it mixed with flashes of a knife carving across your flesh. Of demands and questions over and over as you resisted. 

No, no, no, no…

You didn’t realize that you’d screamed loud enough to reverberate on the walls. You didn’t hear the thundering footsteps that brought Ben tearing into the office. He took one wide-eyed look at you, slumped and huddling on the floor, rocking yourself, holding your head with both hands, and he got down to one knee in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” he demanded, grabbing your shoulders.

You couldn’t speak. And to Ben, it didn’t seem like you were even hearing him as tears slipped down your face.

“Hey!” he barked, startling you with a flinch, but you blinked faster and looked up at him. Part of him felt a measure of relief at that small victory.

“Tell me what's happening,” he said, with deeply furrowed brows.

He held your face in his hands, and he could feel you shaking under his grasp. You uttered an agonized sound and grabbed onto his wrists, shutting your eyes tight.

“It hurts!” you managed to grit out. “Hurts bad this time.”

For the second time in his long life, Ben felt helpless. That feeling clawed through his stomach and up into his throat. It was like he was watching you fall apart, and he couldn’t do anything to stop it.

…No. His jaw locked as he ground his teeth. No. He wasn’t going to let you break.

“Wait here,” he said. He didn't want to move you, in case that made it worse.

He left you briefly just to grab his cell phone, but he was calling Dr. Jeong on his way back to you. There he kneeled on the ground and pulled you close while he waited for the damn doctor to answer. You clung to his shirt, pressed your face into his chest and wept hot tears.

Ben dropped the phone when you cringed, with a pained cry. He called your name and tried to pry you off him just enough so that he could see your face.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he muttered, pressing a hand to your cheek. “Hey! Look at me!”

There was a long moment where you couldn’t answer him.

Then, slowly, slowly…the pulsing behind your eyes and at the back of your head began to recede. Not all the way, but enough to blink your eyes open and release a breath. You were trembling, with your fingers wound tightly in Ben’s shirt. You were able to let go.

You blinked certain shadows out of the corners of your eyes while you caught your breath. When you next looked up at Ben, you saw that his face was tight with apprehension. It confused you.

“Ben?” you prompted. He took your hand, whether to steady you or himself, he’d never tell.

“What the fuck was that?” he said, his voice edged.

You blinked in shock for a moment as you caught your breath. Then, your lips twitched at a smile.

Ah, you recognized his polite way of asking if you were okay.

“Wow. That’s my caring boyfriend,” you said wryly.

Ben’s expression slackened. You became even more confused, and a little concerned, especially by the fact that you were sitting in his lap, but you both were on the ground. 

“What?” you asked him. Why was he looking at you like that? What was happening here? 

Ben quirked his head at you in wonder.

“How long have we lived here?” he asked. 

Your brows furrowed. Why was he asking you that? But he looked dead serious, like this was a test of some kind.

“Almost a year. What, is your memory fading already?” You joked weakly, despite the way your head was still aching, just much less intense than before.

You realized then that the photo album you made for him for Christmas was on the floor, a couple of pictures displaced. 

“What’s this doing on the floor?” You bent over to pick it up, even though just that small movement made your head swim. “Whoa…”

Ben grasped your arms and righted you. He stared into your eyes. 

“Do you remember what happened two months ago?” he asked. 

He was so damn serious, he was starting to scare you. When you contemplated his question, you realized the fog that had claimed your mind for so long was beginning to lift.

Piece by piece, it returned to you.

You remembered waking up in the hospital, everyone coming to see you, the doctor telling you…

“Something happened to me,” you said slowly, rubbing your aching forehead. Your brows furrowed, and you clung to Ben’s arm. “Am I…am I okay?”

That’s what the fuck I’m trying to figure out, Ben thought. 

He reminded you that you were taken by Jackson Rawlins and his brother Tom. Ben, Butcher, and the rest of the team found you, but you’d been hurt. Along with your other injuries, your skull was fractured. It affected your memory, among other things. 

“My memory,” you repeated. “Ben, did I…?”

You looked up at him with a small gasp. His face remained stoic, but you saw through it as his gaze veered away from you.

You remembered that he’d been taking care of you with your mother for weeks now. You remembered that you’d forgotten him.

You took his face in your trembling hands. Both sorrow and apology showed in your eyes, along with brimming tears.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry,” you said, through choked emotion. “I can’t believe I…”

Ben didn’t speak, but he met your gaze while trying to stamp down the full force of his relief. He swallowed past an unfamiliar tightening in his throat.

“What do you remember?” he asked. 

“That you saved me, as usual,” you laughed through your tears. “And that I owe you this.”

Your thumbs brushed his bearded cheeks in a tender caress, and you brought him down to kiss you. His lips met yours in kind as his eyes closed. He let out a breath through his nose and held you a bit tighter against him. Part of him was still wary of hurting you further, and reluctant to even accept this as real. 

After a moment longer, you paused, pulling back a little. 

“I guess I’m back,” you said, in the small space between his face and yours. 

Ben sighed. He brushed the back of his hand against your cheek, and he claimed your lips again. 

Dr. Jeong arrived within the hour to check you over, and to confirm that most of your memories had returned. Meanwhile, her team of nurses checked your vitals and prepped you for a blood transfusion from Ben. In your bedroom, you sat up on your side of the bed while a bag of his O-positive circulated into your bloodstream.

A couple of hours of bed rest later, your body was completely healed, and even free of scars. The powerful ache in your head that had become commonplace had vanished. And afterward, the doctors took up their supplies and left.

You were finally able to take in your familiar surroundings. Your fingertips passed over picture frames on your dresser, the ornate perfume bottle Ben had gotten you for Christmas, your favorite throw blanket you’d tossed carelessly onto the floor this morning. You paused for a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

It was odd to see yourself dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, slightly frizzy hair around your shoulders, your skin free of any scars. You touched your cheek tentatively, marveling at the way you didn’t feel any pain.

Ben’s frame appeared behind you, as did his hands on your hips. You turned in his arms and pulled him into an embrace. You smiled at the warmth you felt through his shirt. Your own portable heater.

“What’re you thinking?” he asked. He had to wonder at how easily you’d slipped yourself into his arms just now. Yet another small reminder that you were his again.

In answer to his question, you gave a hum of contemplation, all while your hands moved down his back. You looked up at him, your lips curving into a smile.

“I think you can guess this time,” you replied.

Ben’s eyes roamed over you, over your face, your body held in his arms, and back up to your lips.

One more added perk of your “medical treatment” had you pulling him down to you by his shirt for a heated kiss. His strength coursed through your veins, making you more solid and energized than when you were once on V24.

Ben heeded your demanding kiss with a near growl as he took you into his arms and walked you back towards the bed. A warning triggered in his mind, however. It had him cupping the back of your head and laying you down with more gentleness than he usually had with you in times like these.

Not to say that he was overly rough with you, but as he positioned himself above you and began to undress you, tank top and pants flung to the floor, you noticed how careful he was being. After you helped him get rid of his own shirt and pants, you slowed things down for a moment, once again caressing his cheek. It encouraged him to meet your eyes.

“Hey,” you said quietly. “You know I’m pretty much as strong as you right now, right? You won’t hurt me. I’m not in pain anymore.”

Ben nodded, releasing a sharp breath. “Right.”

He knew that, of course. He’d just had to get used to treating you like fragile glass over the past two months. Every time he’d helped you, touched you, cared for you, he’d had to use every ounce of his self-control to temper his strength even more so than usual. It was hard to turn that off.

You smiled. An idea sparked in your head, and you pushed at his chest to let you sit up. There you encouraged him to roll over and switch positions, so that he was lying on his back and you were straddling his hips. You slid your hands up his toned stomach and chest and you bent down to kiss his neck.

He closed his eyes as you burned a wet path across his skin. Your lips traveled down his chest, where he slid his fingers into your hair. It prompted you to look up at him with a smile. Seeing him watching you with half-lidded eyes made a small flood of heat pool between your legs.

You couldn’t help but move back up and guide his face up to yours for a kiss. He deepened it pretty much immediately, his tongue hungrily demanding entrance to your mouth as you began rocking your hips against his.

His hands tightened on your waist, but they soon slid up your sides to unclip your bra. He slid down the panties next, and you broke away for a moment to shimmy them down your thighs. You helped him do the same with his underwear.

He gripped at your thighs and ass hard enough to leave serious bruises, if you were normal. Right now though, your bones, your skin, your touch was just as strong as his. Now, his iron grip just made you smile.

The feeling of your smooth, warm skin under his hands, your wet folds brushing against his straining cock, the promise between your thighs, it all made him groan into your mouth. He sat up and held you to him, skin against flushed skin, your breasts pressing against his chest. He grinded his thick, hard length against your core, earning a breathy moan from you.

“Fuck, I’ve fucking missed you,” he admitted. He fisted a hand into your hair and bared your neck for him. He trailed wet kisses that occasionally grazed with teeth. You shuddered against him as your hands splayed against his back.

“Ben, I’m so sorry,” you whispered in his ear. You held him tighter for a different reason.

“Enough,” he said. His words were gruff, but he soothed a hand over your hair. “It’s over. We’re here now.”

You nodded, biting your lip and blinking against the sting of tears.

What you didn’t know was, the last thing he wanted was for you to apologize to him. He couldn’t fucking tolerate it.

Instead, he reached a hand between you and slid a hand down the inside of your thigh, and then two fingers between your folds, and into your wet heat. He wasted no more time in working you open.

He drew a hot moan from you, one that echoed in his ear while his thumb found your clit, and the rest of his fingers toyed with your pussy. You ached to be filled, and your core was already throbbing around his fingers.

You gripped his hair tight. Your hips began to undulate with the tempo of his pulsing fingers.

“Ben,” you implored and whined at the same time. Your inner walls were squeezing his hand tight as his fingers brushed with purpose over that sensitive place, deep inside you.

“That’s right. Fucking squeeze the shit out of me,” he demanded. “Want you gushing all over my hand.”

“You’re about to get what you want,” you panted. “Fuck…”

He didn’t care that your iron grip was threatening to rip a chunk out of his hair. He was stroking you with single-minded precision, until you finally clamped down that much harder on his hand and gasped in his ear. To him, that sound was his own personal symphony. He never got tired of making you come apart, and making you sing just for him.

And you…well, you certainly never got tired of letting him. This time though, you’d wanted to be on top so you could be the one to make him feel good—and give him a little care after everything that had happened. But you couldn’t even argue when Ben rolled you onto your back again. Still, you slid your hands over his chest.

“I wanted to give you some star treatment,” you said breathlessly. You began to sit up again. “Here, let me—”

“You’re gonna let me fuck you deep into this fucking mattress ‘til we break a few springs,” he said. “That sound good for you?”

He bent down and sucked hard at your neck. Meanwhile, he grabbed your thighs and hooked your legs around his waist.

“O-Okay,” you agreed, your eyes closing. You gasped as he bit down just under your ear, marking you as his, and earning another gasp of pleasure from you as your body pressed against his.

Then he lined his cock up to your entrance. Once he breached your folds, your squeezing grip on his arms encouraged him to sheathe himself inside you, sliding all the way home.

You shuddered at the delicious feeling of being filled. Your heels pressed into his back, urging him to keep moving. He still took the time to brush his hand against your cheek, a tender caress.

You blinked up at him with a smile. He gave you one back, albeit more reserved. In turn, you swept his hair away from his eyes, like you were wont to do. He secretly reveled in the feeling of it, the familiarity of you. He turned his head and laid a kiss against your wrist.

But after that brief flash of tenderness, Ben pushed forward, quite literally, to steal your breath away. Each new stroke of his cock deep inside you made the coil of warmth and pleasure tighten, for both of you. The sound of mingled breaths and flesh against flesh filled the room as you two moved together. And in this, you two had always been in sync.

His hand moved between you to circle roughly at your clit.

“Come on, baby. At least one more for me.”

You nodded, panting for breath. You moved the angle of his hand to just right, and his last pounding strokes finally drove you over the edge. You came shortly before he did, spilling into you with hot abandon and a ragged sound in his throat.

You two recovered there for a moment. He rested his forehead against yours, and again, you swept your fingers through his sweaty hair.

Eventually, he pulled back and opened his eyes to meet yours. He grasped your free hand off his shoulder and pressed a kiss into your palm. Then he smirked down at you.

“Welcome home,” he said.

Long afterwards, your body felt like warm molasses. You’d both gotten cleaned up and now shared the bed properly in rest. You were half-dozing while you laid warm, comfortable, and naked in his arms.

You’d called your mom earlier to let her know what had happened today, and that you’d recovered fully following the blood transfusion…and if she wanted to grab dinner with Louisa tonight before coming home, then that would give you and Ben some time to “catch up.”

Thankfully, Marie had enough tact to read between the lines. She told you that she’d be back later this evening, and Louisa would come to visit you again tomorrow. 

You were at peace as you trailed lazy patterns across Ben’s chest while he smoked a blunt. 

He deserves it, you thought with a smile. That led you to shift onto your side and rest your weight on your elbow, above his shoulder.

“You know something?” you said. “Thank you for being so gentle with me throughout all this. I know I didn’t always give you an easy time of it.”

Ben shook his head, smiling slightly before he blew out a puff.

“What else is fucking new?” he said. You smiled too, but you still grabbed his chin, so he’d look at you. 

“I’m serious,” you said. “Thank you.”

He sobered, letting out another coil of smoke through his nose. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. 

Your head quirked. You released him to caress his cheek instead. 

“Yeah, babe. I’m all healed up now,” you reassured.

“Not entirely what I meant,” he said. He hesitated, his gaze dropping, before it met yours again. “…It took us three days to find you.”

That made you dim with more sobering consideration, when you realized what he meant. You had finally remembered what you went through with the Rawlins brothers, held captive in that dark, disgusting cave. A shudder ran down your spine. 

Those memories had only just returned to you a few hours ago, and you’d immediately shut them away in the “don’t file this into your core memories” pile. You really hadn’t had too much time to reflect on that, or even process it all really. 

Tears stung at your eyes, and your lower lip trembled, but you tried to breathe past it, closing your eyes. 

“I’m okay now. It’s in the past,” you said. 

In other words, denial of the purest form.

Ben shook his head with a sigh. He put out his blunt on the ashtray on his nightstand, setting it aside. He slid a hand up your back and gathered you closer against his chest. You rested your head there.

You sucked in a tremulous breath, and your tears finally fell. You sniffed and tried to bat them away, but you let the sound of his heartbeat steady you. 

What you’d been through was…beyond words. It was more than you’d ever been through, even with your father. Even though you were grateful to be you again, there were also things you wished you could forget again. Things that were etched into your psyche, and you were certain you’d see them again when you next closed your eyes.

“It shouldn’t have fucking happened,” Ben said. "This one's on me."

His voice dislodged you from your spiraling thoughts, if for the moment. It drew your eyes back up to his as your mouth parted. You knew that was his way of apologizing.

“Ben, it wasn't your fault,” you said, laying a hand on his chest.

He gave you a measured look. 

“We both know that’s not true,” he said. Always to the point. 

“And…” he began to add, but he cut himself off. You tilted your head at him.

“And?” you prompted.

Ben’s lips pressed together in hesitation. He almost wished he hadn’t set down his blunt. Instead, he looked you in the eyes like a man.

“Your family doesn’t know who’s really responsible for this,” he said. The admission was a small weight off his heart, even though he didn’t want to acknowledge that bit. “All they know is that it was…retaliation.”

You looked up at him then, with a frown.

“You mean Mom and Louisa? You didn’t tell them it was the Rawlins brothers,” you clarified.

After a moment, Ben nodded. "Yeah."

You could thought you could also read between the lines of what he wasn’t saying.

Who’s really responsible for this…

You took in a deep breath, then you released it. You had a feeling your mother would understand if you told her the truth, but Louisa, on the other hand?

“Okay,” you said. “That’s probably for the best, anyway.”

He tacitly agreed, even if the well-hidden depths of his guilt remained. You saw all that too.

Before he reached for his blunt again, you took his hand. You laced your fingers with his, and raised your joined hands to your lips, pressing a kiss over his knuckles.

“Look, I knew what I was getting into when we decided to be together,” you said. “I don’t regret it, because…I love you.”

Ben’s gaze began to drift away, but you turned his face back to you with a finger.

“I love you,” you repeated, with emotion making your eyes sting. “I know we’ll get past this. Probably with copious amounts of therapy on my end, but we will.” 

Ben considered that with a shallow nod. He couldn’t help but reach for you, cupping your cheek. He bent down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. He stayed there for a moment, just thinking.

You gave him the time he needed, and in the meantime, you let yourself be comforted by his warmth and closeness. You also wiped away your remaining tears, sniffling.

“Okay,” he said, at last. 

“Okay?” you echoed. “What does that mean?”

“This,” he said, and guided your face to his for another kiss. He claimed you slowly, but with purpose. And, after a slight pause, he allowed himself to speak an ultimate truth. 

“I love you,” Ben said. His face wasn’t stoic, or reluctant. It was honest. 

“I may not say it enough,” he continued, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “But it's you and me. Like Sonny and Cher. When they were good, before the ugly divorce. Or like Bonnie and Clyde. Just, you know, without the grisly end bit."

You laughed and shook your head incredulously. Sign this man up for Hallmark cards.

Ben made a dismissive gesture with his hand.

"Whatever. The point is, you’re mine, understand?" he said. "That’s just how it is.”

“Is that right?” you teased. A smile tugged at Ben’s lips as well.

“That’s right,” he affirmed, squeezing your waist. You laughed a little more and settled back into resting against his chest.

“Okay,” you replied. 

And for now, it really was.

AN: Ahh, the end of a series is always bittersweet, no? I had a lot of fun with this BMD mini series, and I hope you did too! I'm sure I'll come back to these two eventually (there are still BMD requests in my inbox), but let me know what you thought of how we wrapped up here with Wake Me Up. 💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, we have a pivotal part of the BMD story:

Summary: After you accidentally break through a solid wood table, you know there’s something wrong with you. You begin to have your suspicions, but can you keep it from Ben long enough to find out?  (In other words: This is the story of how you and Ben discover that you’re pregnant.)

▶️ Next Story: Strong as Blood

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD/Series Tag List (Part 1):

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

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@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[enbyfvcker]

"Come back home."

𝙒𝙖𝙙𝙚 𝙒𝙞𝙡𝙨𝙤𝙣 𝙭 𝙇𝙤𝙜𝙖𝙣 (𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙨𝙩!𝙬𝙤𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚)

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 2k

𝙎𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮/𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙩: a part two continuation from this from @psychohoneywhiskey because it rented a whole fucking condo in my head.

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙨: Hurt/comfort, angst, fighting, fluff, kissing, happy ending, Wade needs a hug, Logan needs a hug.

Wade only got home when the sun was already rising. His suit was all torn up, and some wounds still healed from the fight he just had with some stubborn criminals.

He expected to see Logan sleeping on the couch, but he didn't.

Well, maybe he decided to sleep in his bed?

He walks to his bedroom with expectation but also finds it empty.

Actually, not entirely empty.

In his bed layed all the clothes Wade bought Logan folded. All the little thoughtful gifts he gave him. Everything that Wade got him to say through actions that he's wanted.

Looks like the message didn't land.

His heart tightens, tears welling in his eyes as he realizes that Logan left him.

Left after being willing to sacrifice himself for Wade. Left after making this crack house he lived in into a home. Left after letting Wade convince him to stay sober after decades. Left after stealing his way into Wade's heart, his life, his family.

And just like that, 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘴. Without nothing with him but his suit.

Honestly, Wade doesn't think he should be surprised for this. He knew it was going to happen. He knew Logan was just waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Who would ever put up with him? God, if he could escape from himself sometimes, he would. He tried many times, too.

So could he even blame him, really?

In that moment, all the words Logan spat at him in that Honda Odyssey at the middle of a god forsaken void came back into his mind. They have been constantly in the past weeks.

He did feel like a ridiculous sad joke. He wanted nothing more than to be able to die alone because at least it meant he would just 𝘧𝘶𝘤���𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺. That his attempts wouldn't just be self-harm anymore and that when he tried blowing himself up, he wouldn't just regenerate back.

He couldn't keep his job. Couldn't keep Vanessa. Couldn't keep Logan. If it weren't for Logan, he wouldn't be able to keep his fucking universe.

He'd never be an anchor being. He'd never make a difference or matter, so why would anyone stay?

He sobbed as he held one of Logan's shirts, burying his face into it and desperately trying to smell any remaining scent of him.

Mary Puppins walks in, her tongue out as she turns her head to the side, looking up at Wade with sad eyes.

"What's all that damn noise? Did you stub your toe again?" Al walks in wearing a sleeping robe and her sunglasses, apparently having awakened from Wade's ugly crying.

"Hey, Al..." Wade just sniffles, his voice broken as he just chooses to ignore her question.

"What happened?"

"Logan left..."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Guess I'm that insufferable that he couldn't stand spending another minute with me."

"He spent whole months with you, Wade."

"Sure, but did he even have a choice? I basically kidnapped him and threw him in a fucking new universe. I'm like an old creepy guy in a van. He was just waiting for a chance to run off. And he did."

"Come here, let's get you some tea." Al gestures for Wade to follow her to the kitchen, and he does, taking the shirt in his hands with him.

"Actually, I could use some cocaine right now. And you could use the cure for blindness to see how heartbroken I am for tea." He remarks, following behind her, dogpool following Wade. "Try not to break any cups this time."

Al puts sets a kettle in the stove and turns it on as Wade sits on a chair, all droopy and his eyes red.

"Did he take anything with him? Any money? Clothes? How do you know he won't just come back?"

"No, nothing. He must be wandering the streets like a lost puppy right now. And I just know."

"I think you boys are just too stupid to communicate properly. If you talked about this shit-"

"Oh, he talked plenty, believe me. He ran his mouth about how much of a joke I am."

"Oh, cut the self-loathing crap. That was before then. You two have been acting like an old married gay couple for the last months, don't give me that. You don't see the way he looks at you."

"Oh, and you do?!"

"I don't have to see it to know that guy would throw himself in the fire for you. If he ran off, then it's probably because the idiot read your sad little kitten act like a sign he's not welcomed."

"What-"

"Shut up. Now, if you don't grow a pair of balls for once and try to find him, I sweat to god-"

"I wouldn't even know where to look. And I doubt it he'd even want me to."

"So you better start right away. Go."

"What about my tea-"

"Go."

...

The last few days were rough. And that's saying something, considering all Logan went through in his universe.

He didn't have a place to stay anymore, so he just wandered around and got from bar to bar. He didn't have any cash on him, so he would flash his claws out to the barman as a threat when he was asked about his bill.

He felt like a goddamn monster, so why not act like it. He's not proud of it, but it's been months he didn't have a drink, and all he wanted was to drown the overwhelming feelings eating at him.

He got banned from multiple bars, always hopping to the next one. Getting drunk, getting in some fights, wandering around...

He felt like he was back in his universe. He felt so fucking stupid to think maybe he could change. That maybe here he could turn the page, start a new life with Wade.

Turns out the place it's not the problem, he's the fucking problem. He's a disease that destroys everything he touches, and he should know better than to try and have any connection with anyone.

He failed everyone. He failed the X-men by not being there. He failed Charles by going into a murderous spree. He failed Laura by not being the right guy. He failed Wade by being the complete jerk he is.

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he left. He's smelling bad, and his hair is mess, but all he cares right now is finishing one more bottle. Then, one more, and one more, and...

He feels something - someone - poking him. Logan thinks it may be the barman or the manager, so he pulls his claws out. "Look, bub, I-"

"Heya, Peanut. Gosh, I'm getting deja-vu. Ain't ya?" Logan's eyes focus to see Wade standing next to him wearing his suit and mask, and his heart races quickly. "You're a hard one to find, honey badger. And I'm a mercenary, so-"

"The fuck are you doing here?"

"You know the answer to that."

"Save it, bub. I gave you an easy way out. You should have taken it."

"Come on, let's just talk-"

"Not in the fucking mood." Logan grumbles, suddenly feeling his chest too tight and like the walls were closing on him. He stumbles while getting off the chair and heading outside with heavy steps, hearing an angry voice behind the counter as he leaves without paying.

He walks out of the bar, rushing somewhere through the empty street, nightly darkness everywhere. Where? Where the fuck was he rushing to?

He hears a bell noise and other footsteps behind him.

"Fine! I get it, alright?! I'm the worst damn piece of crap that you could possibly be stuck with! You were right, ok? I'm everything you said I am. I'd run off, too." Wade shouts, his broken voice making Logan halt in his steps. "But at least let me return the favor of you saving my universe. Let me try and find you somewhere where you don't have to deal with me-"

"It was never about that." Logan grunts, his heart aching like it was about to break.

How could Wade possibly think it was about that?

"What?"

"I'm poison, bub." Logan sighs, finally turning around. "I destroy everything I touch. I hurt everyone around me, I hurt you. I don't deserve you taking me in. I don't deserve your affection or your family. I shouldn't have thought that there was more to my life than being the miserable monster I am and living with the consequences of my own actions. You got the worst you could possibly have, Wade. I'm just doing you the favor of retracting myself before I fuck everything up beyonde repair." Logan could feel his throat tight like a knot as he fought back stubborn tears.

Wade was stunned, silent for a few seconds before he took off his mask and gave Logan the most puppy dog eyes he ever saw, his eyes glossy with tears matching his own.

"You're an fucking idiot." Wade simply stated, a sad smile in his lips. "You're not a monster. And you're far from the worst I could have. I owe my whole world to you. I know you think I'm a joke, but I couldn't ask for a better-"

"I don't think you're a joke." He interrupted.

"But... in the Honda Odyssey, back at the void..." Wade replies, hearing a chuckle that held nothing but sadness.

Fuck. It never came to Logan's mind that what he said that day actually stuck to Wade. He is an idiot. Those words felt so distant, so different from what he felt now for the merc. After all those months they lived together, getting all domestic and shit. Wade crawled into his heart that had felt dead for years and got a space there.

"That was before, bub. I didn't even really know you, of course now I don't think that shit I said."

"But you did... Back then." Wade looks down, his voice low.

"I'm sorry..." Logan says, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. "You didn't deserve that. I was a jerk. I still am, but... You make me want to be better, bub. It's stupid, but... You kidnapping me was probably the best thing that ever happened to me in years, and I was just... so scared I fucked it up too, like everything else."

Wade chuckles, and his eyes brighten as he looks at Logan, his heart feels lighter at hearing those words.

"You didn't." Wade gets closer, his hand resting at Logan's shoulder. "You're wanted. Loved."

The care and gentleness in Wade's touch melts Logan, he leans closer too.

"Come back home."

Those words alone broke him.

For so long, he didn't have a home. How could he have ever taken this one for granted?

"Alright, bub."

It was like clockwork when their lips met in a soft, gentle kiss, them holding each other closely as if they both feared the other would disappear into thin air any second. It felt so natural. Their hearts were calm and frantic at the same time.

Suddenly, there were fireworks sounds and colorful lights surrounding them, and they could hear people chanting happily in the background.

𝘖𝘩.

So it was New Year's already.

They kept their lips together for a few seconds as fireworks popped and formed colorful patterns in the sky. When they pulled away, their eyes were filled with longing and pure affection.

"You're stinky." Wade comments with a smile even though he keeps Logan close. Logan chuckles.

"Yeah, sorry."

"Come on. Let's get you home and make you a nice warm bath, peanut. Blind Al and Mary Puppins are missing you." Wade says while putting his arms around Logan's waist as he guides him their way home.

"Just them?"

"No." Wade replies. "Not just them."

[letarasstuff]

Female Rage

(A/N): Initially, I wanted to end this one on a hopeful note. But fighting the war of equality and equity can be pretty hopeless. I tried to be as inclusive as possible, but it's came out in a very binary way. I'm sorry for that and I'm readyto change anything.

Summary: Spencer learns from his daughter how much the patriarchy really sucks.

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: the utter feeling of hopelessness in today's patriarchy, unwanted advances, some men suck

✨Masterlist✨

_________________________

“Hey, what’s with you today?” Spencer asks after hearing his daughter slamming the front door shut.

Her stomping feet bring her towards the living room, where he sits on the couch with a book in his hands, deciding whether or not he’ll include it in his next class. Looking up from the written words, he instantly spots all the emotion running over (Y/N)’s face.

Now, being a father to a 16 year old teenager wasn’t always easy and especially since puberty started it’s becoming increasingly difficult to decipher his child, but Spencer knows right away what kind of emotional cocktail is playing here: Anger, hurt, a pinch of shock and layered under all of this is a certain type of fear. Which one is up to (Y/N) telling him.

“What’s with me today?” She asks him in an incredulous tone. “With me? What about you? Or your entire gender. No, seriously. How can you men go around, trumpeting how you are the stronger, the smarter, the better, the most superior gender? And mean that? Even going as far as to believe that bullshit”

(Y/N) stops, taking in a deep breath. Her father looks at her with waiting eyes, thinking that she now will calmly explain to him what her whole tirade is about. But it seems that this was just the prologue. Because she continues with even more vigour in her voice than she started with.

“For real, what makes you even think that? Stronger than a person, who was assigned female at birth? Just because you are able to build muscles faster than we? Or lose weight faster than us? You know what I call that? An evolutionary problem, because while I got emergency fat to feed off in the case of, I don’t know, an apocalypse, you will freeze to death.

“Our bodies are, for the most part, able to grow an entire functioning human being. We literally take a breakfast bar and build fingers with that energy.

“And for the smarter part? No, absolutely not. So many findings in history have been stolen from women by men, who greedily put their name on it and call it a day of science. Without women, cars probably would still drive around with windshield wipers. Mary Anderson has been laughed at for that idea, despite being one of the first women to hold a patent. And as soon as it expired, suddenly wipers were installed in all cars. Out of nowhere, it stopped being a dumb idea? Just because you weren’t able to attribute it to a woman?!

“But what more to expect from a gender that made protective gear for their testicles in hockey mandatory a hundred years before doing the same thing with a helmet. Who would have thought that brain cells need protection, too? A woman definitely.

I don’t wanna say one gender is better than the other or that there should be a particular fight between any gender at all, but men make it out like that. Damn it, they make women compete with each other to garner their attention. All those “pick me” girls you make fun of? They are the product of internalised misogyny.

“The baseline is wanting to be different from the “typical girl”, right? Well, what is a typical girl, who defined her and why is it so bad to be typical. Who do I want to be different for? Who is mad that I’m dressing up, putting makeup on or having good friendships with other girls?

“Men apparently, because they don’t want a different girl. They don’t want a well dressed, put together woman for the sake of love or so. They want someone easy. Nothing complicated, not someone, who asks them if these pants do look better with that shirt or this blouse. They don’t want to be confronted with problems. That’s why they made up a narrative of how a woman is supposed to be, solely for their own interest.

“And this whole thing eradicates the beautiful experiences you can have as a woman. I don’t talk about these silly and partly belittling things like girl dinner or girl maths. I’m talking about hyping each other up. Bathrooms in a club are fun, because there are a bunch of strangers, talking another stranger up to shoot their shot. Or down from texting their ex. There is unity.

“So where do men get their audacity?!”

Ending her whole rant with this question, (Y/N) stands in front of her father, seething and looking like she is about to overthrow the patriarchy with her own two hands. Right here, right now.

Meanwhile Spencer has started to shrink into the sofa and looks as physically small as possible.

“Uhm, the audacity for what, Sweetheart?” He asks hesitantly, scared for her reaction, but also knowing that this is something his daughter needs to get out of her system.

“TO WALK UP TO ME AND TRYING TO GET SOMETHING ON WITH ME WHILE HE CLEARLY HAS BEEN TRYING TO DESTROY MY WHOLE PRESENTATION! TO FLIRT WITH A MINOR WHILE HE CLEAR AS DAY IS IN HIS MID TO LATE TWENTIES!”

(Y/N) falls down on the sofa face first, next to her father. He rubs her arm up and down in a soothing manner, trying to take the fall after her burst of warranted female rage.

“I apologise. I know, there is nothing I can do against all of what you just said. I also know, like you, that we are talking about a structural problem. It’s nothing that can be solved by a few words. It sucks, knowing that your right to vote is younger than the patent on the first motorised vehicle. It’s not right that you always have to stick up for your rights, while mine will never be threatened.

“Nothing about all of this is fair. That I have to raise you in a way to remind you that any man out there could hurt you. It’s not fair that you have to go tell other men making advances at you about an imaginary boyfriend, because they rather believe in the legitimation of a fake male than your no. That you have to say no more than once, just because someone wants to “make sure you really mean it”.

“I can’t do anything right now that will satisfy you.

“But I can promise you that I will always listen to you. Listen to what makes you mad about this system. I will listen to other people, telling me how the patriarchy failed them. I promise to uplift the women in my life, give credit where it’s due and try to be the best feminist I can be.

But you need to promise me to tell me how I can support you the best in a world that wants to diminish your opinion, your rights and you. Can we do that?”

A short moment of silence gives Spencer the opportunity to think about instances, where he had to endure how (Y/N) being born female made her life more difficult. May it be boys pulling your hair on the playground and the teacher saying that they show love in this abusive way. May it be being called emotional or being told to stop being dramatic while talking about her problems. May it be in simply enjoying stereotypical girly things and being called basic because of that.

“Yes, I promise, I’ll keep you in check. And if you start rambling about how men are superior, I’ll ship you off to the worst retirement home I can find,” (Y/N) says, voice a bit muffled by the couch pillows.

The family continues sitting in silence, the feeling of deep and utter unfairness seeping into their bones.

If you have come this far, please consider a reblog or a comment. Not holding you at gunpoint or anything, but it would be pretty neat.

All works:

@venomsvl @kneelforloki @ssa-uglywhore27 @bibissparkles

Criminal Minds:

@averyhotchner @herecomesthewriterwitch @ash19871962 @ellyhotchner

General Spencer Reid:

@mayoanddelight (sunny, you seriously need to tell me when you change your url, this list had such an old one in it)

[leosficlist]

Post S3 Getting Together

Here for your reading pleasure are the fics I had bookmarked that take place after Series 3 or diverge from canon somewhere in there. Post-Mary, some acknowledging the wedding, a few with Rosie.

Lines Written In Kensington Gardens by CaitlinFairchild 6.1k words

Thirty-five was the established boundary, Sherlock decided after extensive calculations. He would be dead by thirty-five. That was the kind of man he was. That was the kind of life he lived.

At thirty-four, a year before his appointed rendezvous with oblivion, Sherlock met a man. Nobody special, or so he thought, an ordinary man--who soon proved extraordinary, a man who killed without hesitation to protect a life Sherlock cared nothing about.

This is the story of how Sherlock Holmes lived long enough to grow old.

Vena Cava by SilentAuror 27.4k

Sherlock has been shot in the chest; John has been shot in the heart. Though everything is broken, they do their best to heal the wounds that Mary left on them both.

All Wrapped Up by ThorntonsHeart 4.9k words

“John is back in Baker Street where he belongs but the Christmas present wrapping isn't going well! Of course, it's just another one of Sherlock's amazing gifts that he can wrap anything. John challenges him to prove it. Silliness ensues, chances are taken and the boys finally get everything they ever wanted for Christmas.”

notes: slight pwp, but romantic and lovely getting together

Nobody, Not Even the Rain, has Such Small Hands by miss_frankenstein 3.6k

“Will you need fresh socks?”

Sherlock’s voice immediately brings John back to the present. “What?”

Sherlock gestures irritably to the wet socks clutched in John’s hand. “Socks,” he says again sharply because he hates repeating himself, “Will you need fresh socks?”

notes: set somewhere in S3, John finally seizes his chance with Sherlock, Mary be damned. kinda arguing pre-confession

Your Daughter by agirlsname 9.3k words

Five times Sherlock held John's baby and one time he held John.

John didn't forgive Mary for shooting Sherlock, so the end of HLV didn't happen. When the baby comes John lives with Sherlock at Baker Street, and they take care of the newborn together. Sherlock adores her more than he's prepared for. Oh, and he might have something important to confess to John...

notes: absolutely beautiful devotional from Sherlock to the babygirl, who has no name mentioned.

Right Hand Man by SilentAuror 42k words

When John's left arm becomes paralysed after a car accident, Mary asks Sherlock to take him back to Baker Street to recuperate, as she's about to give birth. Despite the fact that the search for Moriarty is ongoing, Sherlock takes John in and takes responsibility for overseeing his rehabilitation as he adjusts to the loss of his arm.

notes: loved their slow paced getting together, heart clenching intimacy. post s3 in that it acknowledges that Mary shot Sherlock.

Are you happy? by amateurwriter 2.9k words

"The only option is, that you have some sort of a plan. Some crazy, brilliant plan that requires me living with her. So please, Sherlock. Tell me. I won't even be mad that you're keeping such essential things from me again. I promise. Just tell me. Tell me it's not much longer and I can come back here and just be with you like we were before. Tell me, Sherlock."

notes: porn with plot

Inked in Memory by 221b_hound 9.7k words

John has been back at Baker Street for a year, following the debacle that ended in Mary's death. Things are good. Back almost to what they used to be. Sherlock might wish they were something else, now, but he only has himself to blame, he thinks. It's too late, now, for the things he first denied before he'd ruined any chances he might have had.

Sherlock also thinks that people who get tattoos are idiots. But perhaps he's about to learn a thing or two, not least of which might be it's not as late as he thinks it is.

Many Happy Returns by sussexbound  5.5k

One did not surprise Sherlock Holmes on his birthday. It was not his ‘thing’. It was rarely appreciated. John knows this. He knows, but… [] But John can’t forget. [] All those things only made John love him more, but therein lies the problem, and the source of all his current turmoil. John loves Sherlock.

The Romance Was There by apliddell 4k words

In which Sherlock reveals his merits as a housekeeper, and a few other things, too.

notes: christmastime, domestic fluffy, harry over for the holidays, sharing a bed, sherlock writes a love letter

Eggs and Toast and Love Confessions by allonsys_girl 10.3k words

These two really are such idiots, but they figure it out in the end.

notes: loved their characterizations and their chemistry, realistic first time after getting together, john's bad at talking about his feelings

State of Flux by Atiki 24.6k

John’s marriage is over and he is finally back home (i.e. at Baker Street, where he belongs). Sherlock is awfully insecure and John is awfully hesitant, and they're both awkward idiots, of course, but they figure it out. Many First Times happen.

notes: love how they talk about their feelings, slowburn that doesn't drag

The Date (reprise) by distantstarlight 1.9k words

Sherlock Holmes is feeling low and blue but John is having none of it. It's Christmas Eve, and things to do.

notes: fluffy christmas getting together, mentions of mary so putting it in post s3

The Dread Pirate Roberts by loveanddeathandartandtaxes  1.2k words

"We first need to know if this new Moriarty is as… zealous as the last.” “I bet your boyfriend wasn’t secretly a lying assassin who tried to kill your best friend, though,” I can’t resist grumbling. Ever the drama queen, he throws his hands in the air and sighs loudly. “Can we please - just - focus, John?” Putting my hand to my face, I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I just thought having boyfriends wasn’t a thing you did.”

notes: if you like john leaving mary for sherlock

[alkhemeya]

The Magnus Archives — Character List for me because I'm stupid. And for theories.

Will update depending on where I am in the series :)

Jonathan/Johnathan Sims, or Sims — Main Character. Called Head Archivist. Skeptic, theatre kid? Albino, and I will die on this hill. Gets no bitches. CORRECTION, HE HAS ONE AND ITS MARTIN.

Tim Stoker — suspicious? Assistant. Has to be an alien. Might actually be a vampire. He may have been risen as a human and doesn't know it.

Sacha James — Seems smart, and clealy as insane as the rest considering she followed a damned spiral guy. Techperson.

Martin Blackwood — hated by Sims, for some reason. Might be the oldest of the group? I've decided he is Scottish. For no reason at all. Knows Polish and possibly some Latin. Personally, I have nothing on him but I decided he had black hair. I love him, he's definitely the 'soft but very violent' archtype.

Elias — I forgot his last name. I immediately hate him. His name is bad and he is an alien in my eyes. Killed Gertrude for like, cult shit. HE KILLED GERTUDE I SWEAR DOWN. HEA EVEIL.

Gertrude Robinson — Previous Archivist, died by Elias For a ritual. Definitely knew something. Bet you she knew some evil stuff about Elias and he killed her because she tried to stop him.

Antonio Blake — Death Clairvoyant, not his real name. Prophet???

Gerard Keay — hunter??? Hunts the supernatural? Hunted his mom for some reason.

Mary Keay — Alien. How is she alive??? Pod person, that's how! Monster.

Michael Crew — ??? Lightning scars, and also seemingly... uh... forgotten word with the book Ex Altoira.

Breekon and Hope — Delivery Company?? Put here for refrence when names come up.

Jurgen Leitner — spooky librarian? Collected spooky books/magic books. Definitely important. Mag be the reason all this is happening??? Who knows.

Leitners — Magic books, apparently. What the fuck.

The Piper — eldritch war god??? Was in the Piper. Seems to foretell death with its bagpipes. Can make people into like... vessels. People who become its vessels cannot survive without war? Violence? Something. Also keeps Ghosts of soldiers. Weird.

The People's Church of The Divine Host — worships a eldritch God. Clearly one that lives in shadows. Wants human sacrifices?? Clearly holds its followers' family hostages for sacrifices, possibly.

Michael/Dream Demon: currently named Dream Demon as an entity. A eldritch being to do with insanity from teh looks of it. Has its own agendas but targets people vulnerable to mental stuff. (HE ATE A GIYS HUSBAND)

The Lukases — Cult family. Has to be. They are fucking weird and probably tried to sacrifice Naomi. Cult for... an eldritch God of fog? Death? There's also a teleporting graveyard.

The Lightless Flame/Asag — Fire people? Not sure. Maybe one entity that also has vessels like the eldritch God in the Divine Host Church?? Definitely. Calling it the Destruction/Asag for now. Destroys all with fire and its worshipers are living fire.

The Beholding/Hunting — mentioned once, but also may be apart of these 'gods'. The name makes the God out to be one of seeing. Watching? Knowledge, perhaps. Added Hunt to it since they seem the same to me. Likes to hunt and watch? Might be why werewolves exist.

Meat/Cannibalism — don't have a name, but it clearly is an entity to do with meat, and most definitely Cannibalism. I just have a hunch.

Rot — Bug/Rot based Eldritch being. Attacks what would be considered unsanitary, like hospices, probably hospitals, bugs and spiders and filth. Probably used Prentiss as a incubator for its worm children. Probably. Thank fuck Prentiss died though.

[prodigal-explorer]

why i hate sunflower (sunny x basil) - a rather unprofessional essay

spoilers for omori below

and also i'm not gonna tag this as hate because it's literally just the truth. cry about it.

respectfully, it's a horrible ship. i might just be saying that because i hate basil, but i just cannot see it ever being healthy. basil destroyed everybody's lives with what he did, and even if they decide to forgive him, what happened to them won't just be reversed. not to mention the codepedent/abusive aspect of the whole situation.

basil expects sunny to dedicate his entire life to him and his emotional well-being. you shouldn't be responsible for anyone's emotional well-being when you're fifteen years old except for your own.

even in the game, there is evidence of something codependent. basil can't function like a decent human being when sunny explains that he's going away. basil literally HURTS SUNNY to the point where he needs to be hospitalized in an attempt to make him stay. and you think that would work romantically? heck no.

yeah, they smile at each other at the end, but does that really mean anything? forgiveness is great, but it doesn't take back what happened and the effects it had. sunny will always remember when he tried to leave and got his eye taken out.

and the fact that sunny is so heavily traumatized because of what basil decided to do to his dead sister is just insane to me. he's always going to see that image. i get that basil had good intentions or whatever but intention doesn't equal effect. if i ran you over with my car, it doesn't matter that i was twelve or that it was an accident. you would still have to go to the hospital.

and when people say "but he was just a kid he didn't know any better!". if basil had the cognitive ability to think of doing that, he had to cognitive ability to stop, or AT LEAST to admit what he did. if he did, then hero wouldn't blame himself for years and years, aubrey wouldn't have been abandoned, and mari would have been respected after she died. what basil did was extreme disrespect to the dead and it gives me chills just thinking about it.

and he did it to sunny's SISTER.

i just don't see why you guys don't care more about that? that's a bit more than a little red flag that is like a red ocean.

end of story, sunflower is a horrible ship and i don't get why the fandom is so obsessed with it. it makes me sick just seeing it.

especially when this is such a beautiful story when you look at it from a friendship pov! why does everything have to be about romance and uwu little gay boys? i know damn well if basil was a girl nobody would be shipping him with sunny, you guys just want a gay male relationship to fixate on and infantilize because that's what toxic fandom people DO. but that's a digression.

anyway if you like sunflower you're a threat to society. womp womp go cry. or better yet stop shipping it that would be lovely.

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (14)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, post break-up, daddy Dean

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (13)

“Fuck, get off,” you curse under your breath. Hours after you leave Mary’s house you try to get the engagement ring off your finger. It doesn’t move. Almost as if the golden band wants to mock you or force you to keep it on. “Get off!!”

“Y/N, is everything alright?” Dean calls from outside the bathroom at his place. He offered you his guestroom for the night. You were too tired and emotionally drained to find a hotel room. “Do you need anything? I can go and buy whatever you forgot.”

“It won’t get off!” You huff and slam your hands onto the sink. “It’s stuck. I can’t get it off.” Choking out a sob you stare at your reflection in the mirror. So many years of independence and peace down the drain because the cocky asshole outside the bathroom couldn’t stay away from you.

“What? Wait! I’m coming!” Dean exclaims before opening the door. He covers his eyes and stumbles inside the room. “What did you say? Do you need help? Is your toe stuck in the faucet?”

You half laugh, half snort. “What? Why do you think my toe got stuck in the faucet? I didn’t take a bath, and would never stick my toe inside the faucet.”

Dean nervously chuckles. He rubs the back of his neck as he finally looks at you. “Well, accidents happen, sweetheart. A faucet can be damn dangerous.”

You snicker. “Your toe got stuck in the faucet, right? How did you do it, Dean?” He pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

“I’m not telling you.”

“Well, at least your dick didn’t get stuck inside the faucet.” You grin from ear to ear. Teasing Dean is fun.

“Y/N!” He gapes at you. “I’m not some pervert putting his dick into the faucet!” Dean narrows his eyes to give you the stinky eye. “You know that my dick would never fit into a faucet.”

“You only didn’t put it inside because it would not fit,” you accuse, earning a huff. “I wasn’t talking about my toe, Dean.” You finally lift your hand to show him the ring. “It won’t get off.”

Dean hums. He steps closer to grab your hand to look at the ring. “Then, don’t take it off. It’s right where it belongs.”

You breathe his name and shake your head. “You know I can’t keep it. The ring never belonged to me, Dean. Whatever we had back then is long gone. We can’t just go back in time and make things right. I raised our son on my own and started a new life without you.”

Dean drops his gaze. He nods because there is no denying that he fucked things up. Even though Mary played a huge part in your breakup, it was his fault that he didn’t stay with you that day. Dean knows there is nothing he can do to make things up to you.

“Stay—” He murmurs, eyes searching yours. “Back then, I was a fool. I was selfish and scared of commitment. But I know now how it feels to live without you, and I’d rather have you and Michael in my life.” Dean raises his hand to stop you from replying. “Don’t answer right now. I know I have no right to beg you to stay, but I do.”

“Dean, I—” Your voice cracks. Right now, you’re not able to respond or even think straight. The past came crashing back into your life, and you cannot handle anything but focus on getting that damn ring off your finger.

He turns to leave the room but glances over his shoulder. “I’ll get some olive oil,” Dean says and points at your hand. “For the ring.”

You watch him leave, feeling bad for him. Dean broke your heart, but you know now, that it wasn’t all his fault. Maybe you should’ve stayed that night. If you hadn’t run away like an angry child, you could’ve talked things out and ruined Mary’s plans.

Dean darts his tongue out, focused on rubbing more olive oil into your skin. He gently massages your finger and tries to move the ring. “Almost there, sweetheart.”

You nod and watch him slowly slide the ring off your finger. It feels good that it’s gone, but at the same time, you feel a sadness you haven’t experienced in years. “Thank you.”

“I’ll put it away,” he says, sounding as sad as you feel. “In case you ever want it back.” Dean gives you a sad smile before walking out of the room. You sigh and grab one of the paper towels to clean your hand.

“Do you want to order takeout?” Dean calls from outside the room. “Michael is still at Sammy’s place, but we could eat together.”

“Sounds good,” you answer. “You can choose. You need to eat something after you refused to eat more of my mince pie.”

“That was not nice of you, Y/N. You know about my weakness for pie and ordered this monstrosity,” Dean huffs as he enters the living room. “A low blow.”

“It was payback for all the times I had to eat fatty burgers or pizza,” you shoot back. “You never invited me to a nice restaurant, Winchester.”

“Sweetheart, that’s a lie! What about the little Italian restaurant,” he bites back. “You almost inhaled their food.”

You purse your lips. Dean is not wrong. Their food was delicious. “I don’t know what you are talking about, Dean.”

He smirks. “How about I order takeout from them, and you can tell me again that I never invited you for dinner to a nice restaurant.”

“Your house is not a restaurant, Winchester,” you argue. “Do not cheat! Ordering takeout is not taking me out on a date.”

“Okay. Let’s go on a date right now,” he hastily says, smirking as you look at him with wide eyes.

“What? That’s not what I meant…I mean…” Stammering you look at Dean, unable to come up with an excuse. You said what you said and now it’s too late.

Part 15

Tags in reblog.

[mrsportgas]

Ghost Ridders Cap.1

#Special Note: Not my pics, all them will be tag to its actual owner. Also not my characters. Please be patient, it´s my first time writing and englihs it´s not my first language. Feel free to interact!!!!

#Summary: Eight years ago, you were taken against your Will to Mary Goise to become the new slave of Saint Roswald, or rather, to living a hell on earth. One day, while you go with  him on a visit to a New World´s  island in the New World, but a familiar face appears. This creates the perfect opportunity for you to escape, join the Whitebeard Pirates, and discover more about your past, your abilities, and who you really are. All  while you try to endure your new crewmate, Portgas D. Ace, who is incredibly annoying... or perhaps incredibly irresistible? You haven't decided yet.

This story is based in the world of One Piece, with the same characters and timeline. Of course, this story is fiction created by me. Some of the timelines, names, and characters might be the same, also some names, characters, stories, or even personalities may be altered. The story is happening pre-time skip, while strawhats are in sabondy for the first time.

The first chapter is an introduction to the current story, which begins with Ace as your central romance. (This romance may shift to other characters as the story progresses, but don't worry, there's still plenty of Ace to come.) The story is written in first person. Female gender, Y/N, but feel free to change the gender, name, or anything else that makes you more comfortable.♡

YOUR POV:

You are walking. Or at least you think so. You don’t remember exactly how long it’s been, but it’s been long time since you’ve been practically going on autopilot. Walking, eating, and just going through the motions.

You just land in an island in the middle of the New World. All because Sand Roswald your lord and celestial dragon wanted to "buy" a jewel for his daughter that was now being sold in one of the best jewelry stores of the Red Line. I say "buy" because, of course, he would take whatever he wanted without caring what the store owner thought, and anyone who got in his way would be the one to lose. Just like what happened to me, but that’s another story.

All I could see were the yellow, worn cobblestones of the main street in the capital. I heard the screams and whimpers of people as they knelt, trying to avoid his gaze, and I could even hear footsteps as people ran, trying to hide somewhere else, trying to stay as far as possible. Mean while, in my head words repeated over and over: “Walk, look down, and everything will be fine.”

After so many years, the Sea Rock shackles hanging in my wrist where like part of my own body; I had learned to live with that weight. With that pain.

MARCO’S POV:

“All this will cost you 200 berris,” said the owner at the medicine shop.

“Alright, give me a second. Ace, hand me the bag.” The silence made me look back; Ace wasn’t there, and somehow I wasn’t surprised. The damn idiot had gotten lost again. I can’t take it anymore. Now I have to go look for him, and to top it all off he took all the money with him.”

The Whitebeard pirates had just landed that day, looking for supplies, and they had to set sail again quickly to complete an important mission. So they had just enough time to grab what they needed and leave.

“My friend has gone with the money; hold this for me, and I’ll be back for it.” Just as the owner was about to respond, a wave of people running and screaming in desperation rushed past the store. “What happened? What’s wrong with the people?”

“From what I understand, a celestial dragon is coming to the city today. If I were you, I’d stay inside until it’s gone. As far as I know, it’s Saint Rosward. They’re one of the cruelest families out there… if any of them could be considered merciful,” the man explained with kindess.

“I don’t have time for that. I need to find my berries and leave as soon as possible. Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” I replied with a friendly smile.

I stepped out into the deserted street. There was no one left; people were either already hiding or kneeling in the main street.

This could be dangerous. I need to be careful. I thought, and that’s when it hit me… If I were Ace, ¿Where would I have gone?… ¡THE MARKET! Which, of course, is on the main street…

Hidden under my cloak and trying not to draw too much attention, I made my way to the main street and knelt down with the rest of the citizens. Moving quickly, I tried to get to the front rows so I could take a better look at the market area. As I got closer, I saw three armed men and a girl in the middle, all at the entrance of a jewelry store. Through the window, Saint Rosward with a jewel on his hands. I looked around and suddenly, I SAW HIM. The idiot was on the roof of that same building, gesturing at me while laughing and eating an apple.

“What an idiot…” I thought as I signaled for him to come down. At that very moment, the atmosphere changed, and the entire scene around the street shifted. A single element was enough to send a chill down my spine. Something was about to happen, and that made me look towards the store’s door. The girl was looking up, at me to be more specific, straight into my eyes, and that’s when I realized.

I looked her up and down, inch by inch, for seconds that felt like hours. The girl was young, practically a child to me, though it was hard to tell since not a single inch of her body was visible. An old, tattered cloak, almost like a sack of potatoes, covered every part of her body, except her bare feet, covered in blood and mud, and her hands, which were bound by sea stone handcuffs. Her long, tangled brown hair and dark brown eyes were the only visible parts. I scanned her nose, cheekbones, mouth… eyes… those eyes.... so familiar, and then an image came to mind: my mother, and this girl was the spitting image of her.

“Y/N…” I sighed. But it was impossible; my sister was dead. Or so they told me, I think. I don’t know. It’s impossible, what are the odds anyway? Exactly… None.

The girl looked at me, freeze, staring deeply without breaking eye contact, and then her expression changed, as if she had seen a ghost. The truth is, my face must look similar right now.

Her facial expression changed yet again and her tear-filled eyes brought back memories, memories of my childhood, which I’d rather forget.

A blow. A weapon struck her head, and blood began to flow.

“What’s wrong with you? Stop crying. Shut up,” one of the guards shouted. “If Saint Rosward sees you… ¿You won’t want to spend another week in the box, eh, slut?”

She didn’t take her eyes off me, and then a voice echoed in my head, saying, “Now.” I don’t know where it came from, perhaps from within me, from the deepest part, but I listened to it because next thing i know is that I stood up and ran, ran as fast as I could towards one of the guards, ready to hit him and steal his weapon. At the same time, almost as if she knew what I was going to do, the girl stood up, dodging the guard’s blows with ease, kicking him several times, and stealing his weapon. Without using her hands.

“Right!” she shouted, and tossed the wepon to me. I turn right and the weapon falls into my hands. I manage to shoot the guard in front of me.

Another guard falls behind me from a bullet entering his forehead. As I turn around, I spot Izou looking at me with an alarmed expression, probably thinking that I’m crazy.

Meanwhile, Saint Rosward and the rest of his guards and slaves come out of the store due to the commotion at the entrance. They find three guards on the ground, and me standing right in front of him.

“Damn bitch, if I didn’t need you, I’d kill you right here. Come on, grab her and kill the others,” Saint Rosward shouted furiously. I swear, at that moment, it seemed like he could have erupted into flames all over his body; his expression was one of pure rage. In fact his clothes began to catch fire, flames rising from the bottom of his tunic. ¿Does he have that power?¿ Has he eaten a Devil Fruit?¿ Which one? But then it hits me: !!!ACE¡¡¡¡

Saint Rosward begins to scream and jump around like a madman while his guards try to put out the fire now spreading across his clothes.

“¡Run! I´ll see you guys on the ship,” Ace says as a grin formed his lips.

Without thinking it much, I look at Izou; we both nod. I quickly head towards the girl and take her hand. The three of us run towards the port amidst the commotion of the people; no one does a thing, no one moves except us.

Y/N POV:

I’m still on autopilot. ¿What just happened?

Run. It’s the only thing I can think of; my whole body is trembling, numb from so many years of being unable to move, and though my feet, my legs are doing their best, the sea stone cuffs are hard to ignore now. The broken and unstable cobblestone ground makes me trip, and fall to the ground, unable to catch myself as my hands are bound.

Everything around me is shaking; I was so close to escaping, a glimmer of hope in my heart, and now I’ve lost it so quickly.

“¡She’s my sister!” I hear footsteps ahead. Strong, big arms lift me up. A silouette in a pink and purple kimono lifts me onto one of its shoulders and starts running without saying a word.

I let myself be carried, and for the first time in eight years, I feel safe enough to close my eyes and let my body relax. So much that I even passed out.

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

I open my eyes. My whole body hurts; my muscles and bones ache so much that I let out a small groan when I try to move. My eyes slowly adjust to the light. I’m in a room, an infirmary, and although the room is small, it has the basics: a bed, a sink, and cabinets with countless shelves and various potions. Next to me, a blond boy in a lilac shirt sleeps in a chair. He slowly begins to open his eyes.

“Y/N ¡You’re awake!” he shouts, not realizing the volume of his words. "I mean… well…¿ Are you Y/N? ¿Who are you?”

“Marco… I…”

A deathly silence filled the room. Just for a few seconds, before voices behind the door interrupted the conversation.

“Ace, stop it. You can’t go in there, get lost idiot.” An unfamiliar voice spoke behind the door.

“Come on, Thatch, I’ll give Marco the food, don’t worry. We’re a very close crew and need to help each other out, so let me help by delivering this food to Marco.” This time the voice was more familiar, though I didn’t know why it seemed so familiar…

“All you want is eat that food yourself. Give it back to me…”

Suddenly, the door bursts open with a loud bang, a reven hair boy with a very peculiar hat enters the room. Behind him, a man in a chef’s jacket follows and you could tell that he wants to kill the young man in front of him.

“¡MARCO’S SISTER IS AWAKE! ¿Are you hungry? Here. I brought you food,” he said with a cocky smile.

“Ace, get out of here, I need to talk to her,” Marco replied with a frown, pushing the boy out of the room and closing the door with a bang. “I’ll bring you some food later.¿ Are you hungry?”

“It’s okay, it doesn’t matter. I’m not hungry,” I replied, looking down. The truth is you were straving. But thats a feeling you long ago abandon.

“¿Are you really Y/N?”

“Yes,” I replied timidly.

“If you really are, prove it. Show me the mark.”

"Never say who you are, never show them…" those words came to mind forcefully, too forcefully. But it was Marco, I was sure. It had been 15 years since I’d seen him, and although we were children, I knew it was him, that face, that hair… unmistakable. Besides, it was my only chance to dont go back, to never go back.

I turned around, giving my back to Marco, who looked dubious at the girl in front of him. I lowered the cloak, letting him see my completely bare back. Marco let out a gasp. There it was. Right on the neck, that symbol, which identified me unmistakably. Below it, another mark: the mark of the celestial dragons slaves.

A shiver ran down Marco’s spine, and terror invaded his body. Immobilized, unable to make a sound. I turned around: “Now show me yours.”

Marco turned around quickly, lowering his shirt to show me his.

“Bathe and dress, in a few hours we’ll arrive at the Moby Dick,” he said, tossing a towel into my arms. And before I could utter another word, he opened the door and left.

The idea of a bath sounded good; I can’t even remember the last time I bathed… in a pleasant bath of cause, since the cold water hoses of Marie Geoise... I wouldn’t know if they could be considered a bath.

With some reluctance and embarrassment, I opened the door, ready to find the bathroom… ¿How could Marco leave me alone? ¿Couldn’t he have shown me where the bathroom was?. I walked down the hallway, looking for something indicating to be a bathroom, and suddenly, the sound of running water reached my ears. “There it is.” At the end of the hallway, a large open door led to long and large bathtubs, the air condensed with all the steam from the hot water. “¡Hot water, finally!” I couldn’t believe it, nor could I wait to immerse myself in it. I quickly entered, touching the water with my foot, and suddenly I felt my whole body tremble, all the energy, the little I had, vanished. The sea stone cuffs. I had completely forgotten about them, they had become part of me, so much that I didn’t notice them. “I should better wash at the sink.”

I headed to the sink, and at that moment, behind me, a lot of water started to flow upwards, and with a great crash of water against the walls, a tall, muscular figure emerged from the bathtub.

A stifled scream escaped my throat; I managed to stop it by covering my mouth with my hands and instinctively hid under one of the sinks. The figure slowly emerged from the water; it seemed to be difficult for him too… It was the boy who entered the infirmary with the food. I started to scan his muscular tan body, naked… :¿¿¡NAKED??!! At that very moment, I woke from my trance. I better get out of here immediately. Crawling, I managed to reach the door and leave the bathroom, running down the hallway back to the infirmary, locking the door and hiding there. SHIT.

NEXT CHAPTER

[creedslove]

Oh, Mari, help! I need a living heater in the form of Joel. It's been damn cold in my country, it's 11 degrees (it was 27 a week ago). And my furnace broke down (so my radiators are cold) and the repair guy won't come until Saturday 😭

Also, this song gave me "Heartless" vibes today: Stephen Sanchez - Until I Found You

Post outbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

A/N: aww baby, I know this ask is a few months old now but I hope things are alright for you! We are also dealing with drastic temperature change, I mean a week ago it was more than 30° but today the max temperature is like 17° so I could definitely use Joel to keep me warm too 😭🫦

• Winters during the outbreak are possibly one of the worst and most depressing things mankind had ever faced, lacking sources of heat, electricity and basic things such as warm clothes, decent blankets and hot water, surviving that weather became one of the many other things someone would need to survive in that world

• no matter if you lived in a QZ, or if you were on the run over the long abandoned roads, winter was hard and that was the time people usually drank the most in order to keep themselves warm and numb to how bad things were

• and even if everything was terrible, you were still so lucky you had Joel, because that man would do anything he could in order to protect you from any danger and of course, from the cold weather as well

• if we are talking about the time you live in the QZ, he would use his smuggling skills in order to offer you the best he can find: jackets, coats, sweaters, blankets, booze, anything really

• and of course you will both snuggle so close in bed, it's funny how Joel is the little spoon even if he's bigger, but he can switch positions whenever you need his body sheltering you

• fucking to keep warm is also a possibility you both really enjoy

• when you guys escape the QZ, he knows nights out in the open are also cold, even if it isn't the winter, and you can't take space in your backpack to carry big, thick blankets, so you will both have to handle sleeping bags

• Joel would always make sure to find shelter and start a fire, so you can spend some time as warm and cozy as possible and of course you would both cuddle so you wouldn't lose heat

• when you get to Jackson, you can barely believe there is such a place, where you can actually have lights on, warm baths and decent, comfortable beds

• while you are both in awe, after eating a proper meal for the first time in months, you decide to share a hot shower together; you could've done it separately, but you are doing it together, because you want to have feeling of running your hands through Joel's skin, the warm water pouring over the two of you, as you both soap and shampoo each other

• then, after changing into new, clean and warm clothes, you go to bed; now there's a heating system in the house that actually works, you won't have to feel that excruciating, painful cold wind that seems to reach your bones, but you will still both hold each other at night, as if your lives depended on it, because deep inside, you know it's not just to keep warm you slept like that

• Joel buries his face into the crook of your neck and pulls you closer, his hand holding your hips and stroking your skin up and down, he's able to sleep peacefully, knowing he can finally offer you the protection you need and that you'll be safe in his arms

____

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 47

chapter 72:

1. “The day of Marlene's memorial is the first time Dorcas decides she's going to kill herself.” oh shit, oh fuck wait

2. bro dorcas is unwell. like holy shit. i forget that the war started because of dorcas’ love for marlene. like. this is just as much of a dorlene fic too

3. dear god i wanna help dorcas so badly

4. call it instinct, but i knew dorcas’ hair would be a crucial part of her healing journey 💃🏼💃🏼

5. i love well rounded female characters but at what cost. dorcas is well rounded but at what cost? she’s suffering and it hurts to read

6. god damn. finding out that dorcas’ mom was in charge of a quarterly quell is fucking insane. considering that dorcas all but ran the resistance

7. “”You said it first, didn't you? There are no good people in war. I lived by those words, did you know that? All that you were wrong about, but that…" She gives a brittle laugh. "You were right about that."”

foaming at the mouth oh my god. i wanna chomp glass

8. DORCAS NO! (she started drinking fyi)

9. dear god dorcas, you aren’t the only one who knew the “real” marlene. people other than you loved her.

10. dorcas finally admitting that if she could choose someone other than dorcas it would be lily hurts. especially since lily has mary.

11. “Marlene was the love of her life, and that's it. Simple as that. She'll never love another.” OWWWWW

12. “She will make sure Lily never knows that Dorcas looks at her now and thinks before this life, it could have been us; maybe in some other life, it is. And that's more than enough.”

DNDNSMMSJSKEJNS AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

13. brb i’m sobbing

okay i’m back. dorcas just found out marlene was gonna propose and now i’m a sniveling mess

14. so much thanks to bizzarestars making the effort to learn about the way war vets healed and dealt with ptsd

chapter 73:

1. sirius having an emotional support dog >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

2. also imma make predictions now: this is the chapter where sirius goes home. it’s time

3. YES YES YES YES THEYRE GOING HOME FUCK YEAH

4. “A homely little home with a porch-swing under the stars. Sirius is homesick for that, too.”

this is my dream too. like it’s been my dream for so long. i can’t even fathom how sirius isn’t bawling like a baby over this. IM bawling like a baby over THEIR porch swing

5. regulus saw sirius and was willing to risk it all just to hug him omg

6. “Barty was the sort of person who needed no outside guidance into being a bit insane.” LMAOOOOOO

7. they’re running a business together and they’re gonna do it forever and now i want to gnaw on wood and glass and plastic and anything i can get my hands on

8. lmao not sirius sitting like a spoiled puppy dog as james and regulus argue over him for the wedding

9. “"Oh, please," James scoffs, rolling his eyes. "One, I'm not stealing your brother away from you, and you know it. Two, who the fuck else would be my best man, hm? Who? Go on."

"Oh, you want to go there?!" Regulus shouts. "What about me? Yeah, didn't think about that, did you? My best friend is dead. Oh, and so is Barty. Who do I have, James? Hm?"”

FUCKING CACKLING

10. awwwww sirius’ compromise is so sweet omg. i’d literally cry if i was james and regulus

11. ugh gay people are so confusing. like you’re allowed to be freinds with the same people and freinds with any gender. so like, it makes wedding planning so hard. who goes on who’s side? what if i said that when i found out about gay people, my biggest hold up wasn’t religion or anything like that, but instead wedding side logistics

12. canonical genderqueer tonks!!!!!!!!!

13. regulus went to aberforth to cause a scene, and damn if he didn’t succeed

14. damn they’re both stubborn. and both got their way jfc

15. full circle. dorcas is designing their wedding clothes. i’m losing my mind, actually

16. the bookshelf. the fucking bookshelf from the first arena. i’m losing my mind oh my god

17. CACKLING OMG. REGULUS WAS WORRIED THAT JAMES WOULD BE SCARED OF THE DAGGERS, BUT INSTEAD HE GOT SO FUCKING TURNED ON OMG

18. STILL FUCKING CACKLING OMG

19. i didn’t know i needed insecure james, but oh i did

20. i get to read the crimson rivers jegulus wedding and oh my fucking god i’m losing it. i am so unbelievably happy

21. “For him, it's easiest to show love when it's a tragedy.”

dksjdjjsjdjsmdjske holy shit

22. “You're hesitating, love."”

AHDHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

23. “You might wish to know a lot of things about their wedding, and their love, but frankly, it's no one's business but theirs.” so feral over this. that’s literally one of the biggest themes of the story omg i love this

24. hi, anyways, i am so unwell

25. the authors notes about the wedding are golden

[kissorkill16]

Mary: A Hello Neighbor Fanfic

By JJ

Summary: Mary Inky moves in with her uncle, Theodore Peterson. At first, she doesn't really mind, but that's because she doesn't realize the monster her uncle is underneath that "lonely old widow" facade.

(P.S., for @inky-mary414 , I was inspired by her OC.)

My first day in Raven Brooks

When my mom told me that I was going to be staying with Uncle Ted for a while until she gets out of therapy, my heart could've stopped beating at that moment.

It's not that I didn't like Uncle Ted, and it's not that my mom doesn't trust him, it's just that we haven't seen each other in a while. The last time I ever saw him was when he and my mom had a huge argument, and he kicked us out of the house without thinking twice.

So to hear that I would be staying with him, I just didn't know how to process it.

"It would be a great way for you two to catch up.", she said.

She wasn't wrong. We haven't seen each other in a while, so I thought that maybe this stay would be a great way for me and my uncle to catch up after so much lost time.

But how she managed to convince him after years since that argument, it will forever remain a mystery to me.

She parked at the front of his house, and it could've been my imagination, but I could've sworn that I saw a kid climb out of his chimney.

Then he slid down the drain pipe and hopped into the bushes next door.

I didn't know if my mom saw it too, or if Uncle Ted saw it from inside the house somewhere, but I didn't even have time to ask Mom before she just got out of the car and went to the back trunk.

I got out too, since she was carrying my bags, and I thought I'd help her since I don't have anything better to do.

When she got to the front door, I stood behind her, a couple of suitcases in my hands, she knocked on the door.

No one came to answer.

She knocked again. Still nothing.

When she was about to knock for a third time, the door opened slightly, then all the way.

I forgot how tall and how muscular Uncle Ted was, and I had also forgotten how scary he was. Maybe that was just me.

"Teddy, so nice to see you!", said my mom. "Anyway, here's Mary, you probably don't remember her after so long, but here she is."

Mom grabbed my shoulders and pushed me in front of her, and I stared at Uncle Ted in fear. He just looked down at me with those weird, intimidating, dull green eyes that I swear could see straight through me.

I bet he can see what I had for breakfast today. Not for long though, because I'm about to lose it.

Mom bent down and gave me a kiss on my forehead before waving me goodbye. "Bye, sweetie. Be a good girl for your Uncle Ted, and call me if you two need anything.", she said. Then she turned on her heel and went back to the car, and I waved her goodbye as she drove off.

Uncle Ted closed the door. I looked at him again, and I didn't feel as intimidated as I did the first time I looked up at him.

"I need to go to the store. You'll be okay by yourself, right?", he asked.

My eyes widened. So he could talk. Mom told me that he became a selective mute after Aunt Diane died and Aaron and Mya went missing. I wouldn't blame him if he couldn't talk, when you lose someone you love, you pretty much lose your will to live.

But I nodded, and he went to the kitchen to the kitchen and got the car keys.

After he left, I decided to just take my bags to the living room.

I couldn't believe what a mess it was in this house. Everything was all over the damn place, things scattered all over the floor.

Seriously, was Uncle Ted so depressed he couldn't clean up after himself anymore?

With nothing else to do, I couldn't unpack since I didn't know whose room I'd be staying in, I thought I should clean up a bit.

I started with the living room. Picking up all of the things that were on the floor, sweeping up anything broken and throwing it away, and fixing any crooked pictures on the wall.

Then I moved onto the kitchen, then the hallway, and then I wondered if it was as messy upstairs as it was downstairs.

I wish I hadn't wondered that.

But anyway, I swept the entire upstairs hallway. But as I tried to go into Uncle Ted's office or his bedroom, I noticed that they were locked shut.

I'm not one to judge people for doing the most weirdest things, but this was so weird.

Almost every single one of the upstairs rooms were locked.

And that's not even the weirdest thing. When I went to check the bathroom, the bathtub was filled with some type of gunk. I didn't dare touch whatever the hell that was.

I was lost in thought as I was putting all of the stuff back, then the front door opened again. I jumped, then I saw that it was just Uncle Ted.

He looked at me.

I noticed that I was still holding the broom.

"I decided to clean up a bit.", I said. I didn't know why I was explaining myself, but I guess I just wanted to get his intimidating stare off of me.

He didn't say anything, he just walked over to me and took the broom. Then he patted my head.

"Thank you, Mary.", he said.

He sat the broom down next to a cabinet in the hallway, then went to the living room and took my bags.

"You'll be sleeping in Aaron's room tonight.", he said. I nodded. Then I remembered something.

"Oh, Uncle Ted. There's actually something I need to know about that.", I said. "Almost all of the upstairs rooms are locked. I don't know if that was on purpose or on accident or something, but -"

"I'll take care of it."

He continued to walk upstairs and take my bags to Aaron's room.

We didn't talk to each other for the rest of the day. I just stayed in Aaron's room while he did whatever, I kept myself busy by reading some of the books I had brought with me.

I read books while I wait for my phone to charge.

At dinner, I noticed that he took a plate full of food to the basement. Why would he do that? Did he have something down there that I didn't know about?

Was it a pet? Because at least having a pet would make this stay a little less awkward.

"Uncle Ted.", I said to him as he walked back into the kitchen, "Why did you take food down there?"

"Where?", he asked.

Oh. He was playing dumb. For sure, he was playing dumb.

"The basement. Why were you taking food to the basement?", I asked.

He didn't answer. He just looked at me, and that stare was beginning to make me feel uncomfortable. He put his plate in the sink, "Don't worry about it, Mary.", he said.

Then he left the kitchen.

I washed my own plate, then I went back to Aaron's room.

That night, I laid awake in bed, thinking about my uncle. What was he hiding? Because as far as I know, he's got more secrets than locks. He proved that to me when he took an entire plate of food to the basement.

I got up, sick of the insomnia and decided I just needed to tire myself out. Then I noticed a light from across the street.

I looked out my window to see a girl through her window, and she looked rather down.

Why was she so sad?

I decided I needed to cheer her up.

I turned on my phone's flashlight and waved it around a little at her, trying to get her to notice it. When she saw the light, she looked across the street at me, and I waved at her.

She looked nervous, but she waved back.

I gave her a little dorky thumbs up, and nodded at her. I was trying to signal her "You good?", just to check on her.

She gave me a thumbs up back.

Then she smiled at me.

I smiled back at her.

I gestured another wave at her, signaling to her "Come over tomorrow?"

She nodded again.

Then she closed her curtains.

I laid back on my bed and decided I'd just play on my phone until I felt sleepy.

I felt happy that night as I played myself to sleep. Not even one day in Raven Brooks, and I'm already making friends.

I just couldn't wait to meet her for real.