#ok but the story behind this is that i came up with a short comic about a scene between them 3 years ago.

[karvviie]

when the crack ship starts getting so serious you start making a comic for it

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 9)

DESCRIPTION: During you're time in the safe house you experience an event that'll likely cause your whole life to change.

WORD COUNT: 3110

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: pregnancy, giving birth, swearing, really bad writing to be honest

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

You'd been living in the safe house for a little under 2 months now. Celebrated Christmas and the New Year inside of it. You saw the man who delivered you new food every week on a Sunday. Edward his name was. Asking him to buy some specific things for your sisters so they could still have a somewhat normal Christmas, given the circumstances. It was quite nice being the three of you though. Over the winter you spent the short days reading, the long nights playing cards.

It was mid January, like any other Sunday. You sat in the living room. Reading a book. Only a few days left before February came around. Which you were greatful for. This month always seemed to last ages and summer would always seem so far away. A knock at the door. Elizabeth calls out.

"I'll get it" she says cheerfully. You stand up. A weird pain going through you as you stand. Letting out a small huff of air as you rub your stomach. Paying it no mind before walking over to the door. You see Edward outside. Brown paper bag with various bits in as he talks to Liz. Who keeps playing with her hair. You half smile at the scene before waddling over. He sees you, a smile on his face. Different to the one he gave your sister but you pay it no mind.

"You life saver" you say. Holding your hand out for the bag. He shakes his head.

"I don't think you should be carrying anything unnecessarily in your condition" he motions at your rather huge stomach.

"Is it really obvious that I'm pregnant?" he laughs as you comically push your stomach out. Motioning for him to come in. He goes to the kitchen. He'd been here plenty of times before so knew where to go. Placing the bag down onto the side.

"I even managed to get you-" he reaches into the bag. Pulling out two oranges.

"Oh my god yes" you hold a hand out, him passing it to you as he starts to empty the bag. That's when you feel it. The same sharp pain going through your side. You brace your hands on the counter. Furrowing your brow before the pain stops just as suddenly as it had started. Edward watches you

"You ok Mrs Shelby?" you nod. Standing back up again, rubbing your stomach.

"Yeah just peachy. Or should I say-" you hold the orange up again "Orangey". He rolls his eyes.

"I thought the dad was meant to say the bad jokes?" you laugh, starting to peel the fruit. Going to say something but the pain comes back. Harder this time. Ed stops what hes doing. Coming over to you as he steadies you. You bend forward. Grabbing his hand and clinging onto it as if your life depended on it. "Liz call the midwife" you see her running off.

"No" you call out. A small plea in your voice "please don't.... fuck!" you say. Hearing her speaking on the phone.

"Lets get you sat down" he says. Pulling out a dining chair as Liz runs back in, shortly followed by Mary.

"Midwife is on the way"

"Good. Flo just breath"

"What the fuck do you think I'm doing?" you shut your eyes. Rubbing your stomach as you speak in a low whisper. "Please get them out of this room" you say, almost as a sob. He nods. Motioning for your sisters to leave. SHhtting the door behind them to the kitchen. He comes and sits next to you. You dig your nails into the wood of the table.

"We- We should contact my husband"

"I can't do that" you look at him. Focusing on your breathing as you give him a questioning look. "Mr Shelby was very clear on his instructions. We do not contact him no matter what. To keep you, your child, and your sister safe". You chuckle slightly. A shaky breath out as you look away from him. Another contraction hitting you. You bend over slightly. Hand going to your stomach as your nails scratching the table before balling it into fists. Feeling the pain of your nails into the flesh of your palm.

Letting out a crying laugh as the pain subsides. Shaking your head slightly. "I'm having his baby and hes to fucking busy to come and see me"

"Its for your safety Mrs Shelby" you run a hand over your face. Pushing yourself up from your chair. Starting to pace. Ed stands too, hands outstretched like your a stray dog hes trying to tame. "I think you should remain sat down" you shake your head. Swaying on your feet side to side. Hearing the front door knock. Ed stands up. You shut your eyes as you hear the door open. The familiar voice of your midwife being heard.

She walks into the kitchen. Smiling at you as she places a medical bag onto the dining room table. "Its nice to see you again Mrs Shelby" you nod. Breathing deeply through your nose as she continues to speak. "Why don't we go to the bedroom for a little more privacy, hmm?" you nod.

Letting her take your arm as she leads you to the bedroom. You stay standing as she goes and and moves your pillows around for you.You stand as she does so, swaying softly as you shut your eyes. Ed following with the medical kit. She looks at him, taking the kit from him.

"Thank you" she smiles at him. He stands, hands placed neatly in front of him as he watches. She coughs slightly, causing him to look at her "I'm going to have to ask you to leave sir. There's no men allowed in the delivery room"

"I can't do that. I'm sorry ma'am" she turns to face him fully.

"I understand your concern. But my only aim for this visit is to deliver the baby safely. Your men have already checked my person. I am unarmed. Now I need you to leave so that I can do my job" he looks at her.

"I'll be just outside the door. If I hear anything unusual I will make no hesitation to come in here" she nods. Him turning tail and heading out the door. Shutting it behind him as your midwife faces you. A smile back on her face. "Why don't you come and lie down on the bed Mrs Shelby?"

"I don't want to lie down"

"I'll be able to help you a lot better if you lie down and let me have a look at whats happening".

"Is it to late to not have it?" she half smiles.

"Unfortunately so. Come on" she gently takes your shoulders. Leading you to the bed. Helping you up and lie down. Going between your thighs as she examines you. You shut your eyes as you breath.

"You're 4cm dilated"

"6 to go, right?" she nods. You shake your head. Turning your legs to go back over the bed. Standing up and pacing again. Gripping the end of the bed frame as another contraction hits. Screaming out. Dorothy (the midwife) coming over and comforting you. Rubbing firm yet gentle circles onto your lower back. She continues to rub onto your back. Massaging the pain away as best as she could.

"I want my husband" you say in a choked sob. "Please..."

"I can't do that Mrs Shelby. I'm sorry. What you need to focus on is getting this baby out. Do you think you can do that?" you shake your head.

"No. No I cant do it. I cant do this" you grip the bed frame tighter. Crying out again. "I need my husband... Please..." She waits for this contraction to pass before helping you to lie down onto the bed.. Dorothy checks how dilated you are.

"You're at 10cm my lovely"

"What the fuck does that mean?" you say. Hand coming up and covering your eyes.

"It means that you can start pushing for me. Count to 3 and give a really big push. 1, 2, 3 - that's it. Good girl. Do that one more time for me ok? 1, 2, 3 and push. Well done my lovely. The head is out. Hold it there. You're doing so well. Ok. Now do it one more time. Do you think you can do it? Come on. 1. 2. 3. Push. Keep pushing. Keep going. Well done. You did so well"

You pant. Eyes opening as you look. Dorothy clamping the two ends of the umbilical cord. Cutting it. Your eyes follow her as she holds your baby. Her rubbing its back. Unable to hear its cries a fear washes over you. "Is my baby ok?". As if on cue you start to hear its crying. A sigh of relief as she wraps the small human up in a blanket.

"Congratulations Mrs Shelby. You have a beautiful baby boy". You get handed him. A smile on your face as you look at the child you had made.

"Oh my god" you say in a soft whisper. Gently stroking the babes features. You feel Dorothy help clean everything up. Covering your lower regions before opening the door. You cant see it but Edward, Elizabeth, and Mary all wait outside the door. They come in. Edward checking to make sure everything seems well as Elizabeth and Mary rush to your side. Looking at your baby. A smile on your features as you look at the child.

"Have you thought of any names?"

"Yes. We were going to see if it was a boy or a girl first" you look up at her. "We're going to call him Charles" looking back down at the baby. "Charles Shelby" you whisper the name. Closing your eyes as you kiss his forehead.

-

5 months had passed. You were still in the safe house. Your midwife had stopped coming regularly around 4 months ago. Although she did tell you that if you had any further questions to contact the doctors. Edward was still coming every Sunday. Delivering you all food as you remained on lock down. Liz and Mary outside in the garden. Happy to be in the summer sun.

You were sat on the living room floor. Holding a toy that Edward had brought you as a gift for Charles. You play with it. Booping it onto the childs nose causing him to giggle. That's when you hear the front door open. Turning to look at the hallway. Edward wasn't meant to come round for another 3 days and the men patrolling your house never came in. You stand up. Picking up your child as you hold him close to you.

Rubbing his back as you make your way to the living room door. Poking your head round you see someone you weren't expecting.

"Thomas..." you whisper his name. Him examining the pictures on the wall. Turning to face you at hearing his name. He smiles at you. His cold stare growing warm as they meet yours. "I- I wasn't expecting you today" he nods.

"I told you I'd come and get you once the threat had been dealt with. So here I am".

"So we're safe to come back home?" he nods. You smile. Hugging the child you were holding close to you. Shutting your eyes as you rest your head against Charlie. "We can go home" you whisper. "We can go home". Kissing the side of his head. You open your eyes. Seeing your husbands eyes on the child your holding.

"Shit" you look between the two of them "shit yes. Tom meet your son. Charles" he comes over fully. The baby staring at him as he gently strokes the babes cheeks. This close proximity you get the scent of whiskey and cigarettes from your husband. The familiarity of it causing you to relax as he smiles at his child. The baby smiling back at him. Mimicking his dads expression.

"I've come to take you, your mum, and your aunties home. What do you say about that, ey?". You kiss your childs cheek before stroking his hair. Turning to Tommy.

"Could you hold him whilst I get the girls and our stuff please?". He nods without hesitation. Hands coming out as he takes your child. A genuine smile on his face as he takes him in his hold. The child looks at you, reaching a hand out. You take it. Kissing the back of his fingers.

"I will be back soon my love" kissing his fingers again. "You stay here with your dad, ok? I'll only be a minute" Stroking his cheek. He looks at his father. The hand you were holding goes to his dads cheek. An unsure but small smile comes over the youngers face. You stroke his hair again. Kissing the top of his head. "I'll be quick".

You're husband drives you all back home. Pulling up outside your house. The back doors open as your sisters get out. You grab the handle to open the car door. Stepping out as you hold your son. Liz and Mary grab your bags as well as their own as the start going into the house. You smile as you look at the familiar building.

Thomas comes over to you. A hand going gently to your upper arm as he looks at you. You turn your head. Meeting his ocean eyes. "I have a present for you". Your brow knits together as you look at him.

"What for?"

"Many reasons. To celebrate our one year anniversary, the birth of our son, Christmas, plus the fact that the threat that separated us is now gone for good" he pauses for a moment. Letting the words hit your ears

"What is it then?"

"That defeats the point of a present if I tell you, ey? All I ask is that you and Charlie get into the car and I'll take you to it" you don't move. Instead just watching him. Trying to read him. It had been a while so you were a little rusty. "Trust me, Florence". You nod slightly.

"I trust you Mr Shelby" he smiles. You move to the side as he reaches behind you. Grabbing the car door, opening it for you as you get in. Shutting it behind you before getting into the drivers seat. Charlie watches your husband as he loosens his tie. Pulling it up and over his head. Turning to face you as he holds it in his palms.

"You still trust me Mrs Shelby?". You look at the tie. Then looking at his eyes. His soft, pulling you in as they scan your features. "Do you?". He repeats. You bite the inside of your lip. Looking at the tie again before nodding. Looking back at his eyes he smiles. You wrap and arm around your son. Holding him close to you as Tommy brings the tie up. Wrapping it around your head and tying it in the back. You reach a hand out. Gently touching his shoulder "Is that comfortable?". You nod. Feeling him shift. The car engine starting. A rumble going through you and the vehicle as you feel it starting to move.

"Where are we going Mr Shelby?"

"You're going to have to wait and see". You feel his hand go to your leg. Squeezing it softly before moving back again. Your hand remaining on his shoulder as a form of security for you.

You're unsure of how much time goes by before the car comes to a stop. He removes your hand from his shoulder. Placing it to join the other one wrapped around Charles. Hearing the door beside you opening. You feel him remove the child from your lap before a hand comes out and takes yours. Helping you step out the car.

"You know, making your blindfolded wife get out of a car whilst she wears heels may not be the best idea you've ever had". A chuckle escapes him. Causing you to smile "Well I'm glad you're enjoying yourself at this image"

"Very much so" he says. You can hear the smirk in his voice as you successfully get out the car. He turns you. Bringing your arms up as he places Charlie back into your arms. Not letting him go fully until he knows you have a good hold on him. Feeling him move behind you. You move your head, tilting it so you can hear him better when he speaks. "Are you ready?". You nod. Feeling his hands come up. Untying the tie around your eyes. Taking it and placing the material in his pocket.

You blink a few times. Eyes becoming re-accustomed to the light. Feeling his hands gently rest onto your upper arms. You hold Charlie as you manage to focus on a house standing before you. No. Better described as a mansion. He leans near your ear. Speaking into it. "Welcome to our new home - Arrow House"

"Our- Did you just say our home?" he nods. His hands still resting on your arms. Holding you as you whisper "This is ours...?" Scared if you speak any louder you might break the magical atmosphere. A smile on his face as drops your arms. He comes round to the front of you. Outstretching a hand, to which you take. Holding Charlie still.

Awestruck as he goes up to the front door. Leading you with him. Opening it you go inside the beautiful entrance way. "Your fucking kidding me" you say. Adjusting Charlie on your hip. Looking up at the grand staircase. He watches you. His hands placed comfortably in front of him. "This is a joke right? This is a friends house that you've borrowed or something"

"I had some spare money left over that I needed to spend. Given the circumstances of your pregnancy I thought it only made sense to buy us a house. One that could accommodate for us"

"Fuck me..." you whisper. He takes out a cigarette. Rolling it over his lips. Taking out a lighter and lighting the end. Drawing a drag from it before removing it from his lips. Placing the lighter back into his pocket.

"We have room for a few maids which should be starting at the end of the week. I've got a few cars to come by to deliver your personal items. They should be arriving later today" he places it back in his mouth.

"You've really set a high bar for presents. You realise that Mr Shelby?" he smiles. Watching as you bring a hand up. Feeling joyfully overwhelmed.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @frozenhuntress67

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 4/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers..

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited. This was another hard chapter to edit/rewrite, but I did it ^^ I hope you guys like fighting/sparring scenes ^^" Ok, let's feed that hunger, shall we? ;)

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 4/8

Word Count: 9.9K / 60K+ for now

In the days that followed their meeting in the library, E kept their distance from Logan. They must have been tangled up with all the contract adjustments and whatever else came with their mysterious agenda, or at least that’s what he assumed. Logan couldn’t say he minded their absence; if anything, the tension between his shoulders had finally started to ease, and his routine felt a little less invaded.

He hardly saw them around the mansion. E would appear in passing, usually on their way to Charles’s office or briefly dipping into the library, but they seemed to vanish as quickly as they appeared. They never crossed paths otherwise. Not in the gym, where he’d half-expected to catch them training, nor in the kitchen, where they always managed to get there before him and leave behind only faint traces—a mug in the sink, an empty coffee pot. Even Ororo, who spent most of her time outside tending to the gardens, mentioned she hadn’t seen them lingering around the grounds. And as the days dragged on, Logan felt the empty space they’d left lingering.

A part of him was curious now, his wariness easing as he'd learned more about them. He’d gotten a glimpse of them beneath that composed exterior, enough to see that they weren’t the threat he’d originally thought, maybe even enough to say they weren't so different from each other—if he squinted. Their goals didn’t seem so far from his, and neither did their need for freedom. He found himself wondering, almost against his will, what they were doing when they weren’t working. It didn’t sit right, not knowing.

And soon enough, he realized he’d started keeping an eye out for them. Them, the person who’d been in his face day in and day out for weeks, was now barely a shadow in the mansion’s daily rhythm. It was… odd, and the feeling only grew with each day they didn’t cross paths.

But then, on the fifth day after their meeting, Logan’s curiosity finally got a break when Charles called the team to his office. He could sense something was coming—the air in the room was thick with it. The team gathered, shifting uneasily, the only absentees being the three younger members. Logan leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze as sharp as ever as he watched each person in the room. His eyes kept circling back to E, who stood slightly off to the side, their expression a wall of carefully constructed calm. They didn’t look at him or anyone else, a clear signal they weren’t here to play nice.

Charles cleared his throat, drawing their attention as he settled behind his desk. “I’ve called you all here to discuss an important matter regarding the security of the school.”

Logan’s gaze narrowed, his instincts already piecing together that this had to do with E. Sure enough, Charles’ steady look swept across the team, his voice carrying a calm authority. “It has been decided that E will be training with you all from now on. They won’t be part of the team, but as they work here at the school and have the right to defend it, it’s important for everyone to understand their abilities. In case of an attack, we all need to be on the same page.”

The discomfort in the room was tangible. Everyone shifted, casting skeptical glances at E, who remained silent, almost impassive. Their appearance looked more severe today—dull skin and eyes, their horns lacking their usual shine, and their hair pulled back in a tight bun. They wore mostly black, save for a few touches of dark red, with no jewelry and only the barest hint of makeup. Jean watched them closely, brows furrowing as she tried to read their thoughts, but E’s sharp glare in her direction made it clear that wall wasn’t coming down.

Scott was the first to voice his hesitation, clearing his throat as he looked between Charles and E. “Is that really necessary? We’ve never had any outsiders train with us before.”

Logan couldn’t help the low chuckle that slipped out. “Forgot about me, Summers? I was an outsider once, too.” The words hung in the air for a heartbeat before he cast a quick glance at E. Just as he expected, their attention—once fixed on their perfectly manicured red nails—flickered to his, briefly meeting his gaze before quickly looking away, the moment slipping by as quickly as it had come.

If they weren’t friends, Scott would’ve probably fried him with his visor for that comment, but Charles remained patient as he waited for the room to settle. “E works alongside us here,” he said, voice steady but unyielding. “They have every right to protect the students, just as we do.” His gaze swept over each person, settling on them a moment longer than necessary. “It’s important we trust one another in times of crisis.”

Logan’s gaze drifted back to E. They stood rigid, a subtle tension in their posture that hadn’t been there before. If he was reading them right, they didn’t want to be here any more than the team wanted them here. It wasn’t just distance, it was a quiet wariness, like they were on guard against everyone, Charles being the only exception. Even Jean’s curiosity only earned another glare from E, a silent warning to stay out of their head.

As the murmurs of agreement wrapped up the meeting, Logan lingered, eyes settling on E. He wasn’t wary of them anymore, not exactly, but something about them made him curious. He’d seen a glimpse of who they were under that mask. He wasn’t sure he trusted them yet, but he respected them—at least enough to want to see more of what they were capable of. And there was that other thing, too; he’d noticed it in the faint shadows under their eyes and the worn edges of their aura. Whatever was keeping them going seemed to be running thin.

“Hey,” he called out before they could leave. They turned slowly, an eyebrow raised, the only indication they’d heard him.

“When d’you have time to spar?” he asked, trying to read their reaction.

Their face barely shifted, but he could see a glint of amusement behind their guarded look. “Right now, actually,” they replied, their voice steady and even. “Unless you’re busy.”

Logan pushed off the wall, straightening his posture. “I’ve got time.”

They nodded, excusing themselves to change and, twenty minutes later, they met him at the bottom of the staircase. They were both now dressed in gear more suitable for what lay ahead, and Logan couldn’t help but notice the way their presence had shifted from the last time they spoke—the carefully polished exterior was there, but the energy behind it was dimmed, like they were holding something back. As they stepped outside, Logan led them to a secluded corner of the grounds, far from prying eyes. The shaded glade lay far from the main paths, ensuring no students or teachers would wander by, a quiet space with plenty of room to move freely.

As they reached the clearing, he rolled his shoulders, flexing his arms and testing his range of motion with a low, almost eager hum in his throat. “Alright,” he said, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

E’s lips curved into a faint smile, tight at the edges, as they removed their shoes, grounding themselves in the cool grass. Logan studied them, and it seemed like even the glint in their eyes was dimmer than he remembered; they looked tired, worn.

“You sure you’re feelin’ up for this?” he taunted. “Look a little beat.”

At those words, a faint smirk tugged at their lips, a dangerous spark lighting in their eyes—not quite playful, but charged with a hint of anticipation as they settled a few feet from him, their toes curling slightly in the green blades. “Looks can be deceiving,” they stated, their eyes narrowing with a brief, steely flash. “So don’t hold back.”

Logan chuckled, a low growl under his breath . “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

They shifted into their stances, circling each other slowly, and Logan took a moment to assess them, noting their balance and posture, looking for signs of fatigue or hesitation. E looked drained, their skin and eyes lacking the usual intensity, their expression guarded but when they lunged forward, it was with a speed and grace that took him off guard. They were light on their feet, with an economy of motion that spoke of years of training. Even so, they lacked their usual edge. He’d felt their agility before—those brief, charged touches when they went after him over the past couple of weeks. But now, with their first steps, he saw a whole new side to them.

As Logan moved in, he blocked their strike, and the force behind it surprised him. They were damn quick, and strong enough to make him realize he couldn’t take this lightly. He dodged a swift kick, aiming a punch in return, but they twisted smoothly out of his reach, moving with a precision that was… stunning.

A flicker of respect—maybe even awe—stirred in him, and he noticed the shift almost immediately. E’s movements, initially strong, suddenly sharpened, a faint glow sparking in their eyes as they draw strength from his reaction. Each impressed thought, every ounce of admiration, pulse under their skin like fuel, strengthening them further.

Their smile widened, feeling the strength coursing through them now, a flash of teeth as they spun around him, arms a flurry of open-palmed strikes and swift fists. Logan blocked most of them, dodging the rest. They weren’t just good—they were damn good. And as his recognition grew, he felt an odd, almost tangible energy radiating off them, a surge that seemed to seep from the esteem they stirred in him.

“Not bad,” he grunted, his breath steady despite the exertion. The thrill of a real challenge was humming through his veins, the kind that made his blood come alive. But he couldn’t ignore that other feeling creeping in, like something slipping just beyond his control, something wild and powerful in E that his respect seemed to unlock.

They closed in again, and as their bodies met, Logan realized just how agile they were. It wasn’t only that they were fast; it was the precision of each movement, the way they slipped around his strikes like water weaving through rock. He found himself pushed harder, each dodge and block requiring his full attention.

Their style was unlike anything he’d seen before: smooth, swift, each movement flowing into the next like a performer weaving between shadows. There was a seamlessness to their steps, an exotic grace laced with foreign influences he couldn’t quite place—Arabic, maybe, or something even older. As they exchanged blow after blow, it felt like choreography, mesmerizing—E’s motions were fluid and graceful, carrying a rhythm and elegance that Logan could respect, even as he fought to keep up. This wasn’t just skill; it was... Art. And the more he admired it, the stronger they became, each spark of his interest feeding into their movements like an unseen force binding them.

Realization struck him like a blow—yes, they were good, but their power was intensifying, fueled by him.

He’d heard of mutants who could channel the emotions of others, drawing strength from positive thoughts like attention and interest. But feeling it now—feeling their strength mirror his thoughts… it was unlike anything he’d experienced.

They were more than a match for him, and his respect for their skill, their grit, surged. The moment that thought crossed his mind, E’s strikes grew even faster, their focus intensifying, and he was almost sure of it now. His every impressed reaction were seeping into them, fueling their intensity.

Their strikes picked up speed, and Logan found himself on the defensive more than he’d anticipated. They were fucking sharp. For every hit he blocked, two more came at him from new angles, as if they were testing him, pushing him to see just how far they could go. And with each strike, with every dodge, their energy grew, their fatigue seemed to melt away. The fire in their eyes reignited, and their form tightened, honed into something intense and unyielding.

He went in close, using his instincts to counter their movements, but with each passing moment, he witnessed how his respect only made them stronger. It was mesmerizing—and unsettling. The bond felt tangible, like an invisible current between them, and it was taking on a life of its own.

Logan ducked under a high kick, his instincts leading the way, and countered with a low sweep that nearly knocked them off-balance. E rolled out of reach, landing on their feet with a fluid twist that made Logan pause, even for just a fraction of a second. The way they moved was intoxicating—a mix of elegance and deadly purpose that sparked something inside him. He couldn’t help it; for a split moment, he was simply watching them, almost spellbound.

But there was no time to linger. E closed the distance with a burst of energy, a flurry of controlled, powerful strikes, fists and open palms, that had Logan moving on impulse alone. Each hit was controlled, precise, but damn, the force behind them kept him on his toes, like they were trying to push him to his limits. And maybe, deep down, he wanted them to. He blocked, deflected, and when he caught their wrist mid-swing, he allowed a small, knowing smirk to flicker across his face. That’s when he saw it—the glint of mischief in their eyes, quick and bold. E twisted out of his grasp with a move so smooth it felt like he’d tried to catch water.

Logan tightened his grip as they shifted, pulling them back to him, but the moment their faces were mere inches apart, time seemed to pause. Their eyes were locked onto his, unflinching and intense. There was something fierce there, a silent challenge that pulled at something deeper inside him, stoking the embers in his guts. It was like they were daring him, testing him not just as an opponent but as someone who understood the fire behind their eyes.

E must have seen the battle between reason and desire flicker in his gaze because they seized the moment, breaking free in a swift motion. Logan let them go, both impressed and curious, wanting to see what they’d do next. They didn’t waste a second, attacking with renewed vigor, moving like a force of nature, their body a seamless weapon of precision and raw determination. Logan could feel the shift—a resolve in them, the power that had been lying dormant now fully awakened. They weren’t holding back anymore, weren’t playing it safe. The series of blows they threw with rapid precision drew him into that primal place where his instincts ruled, and he was forced to meet them there, letting the feral part in him slip closer to the surface. The thrill of it sparked through his veins like wildfire.

“Alright,” he growled under his breath, almost laughing as he absorbed another blow and stepped back, chest heaving. “So you’re not playin’ around.”

Their eyes glimmered, never breaking eye contact, that confident grin tugging at their lips. They let out a breathy laugh, low and challenging. “You finally noticed?” they teased, their voice smooth with the thrill of the fight. There was something almost predatory in the way they held his gaze, the way they readied themselves for the next round. The air between them was tight, charged, every breath a shared battle. They circled each other once more, both panting heavily now, both intent, and Logan shifted his stance, ready for whatever came next.

He braced himself as they lunged, and this time, he met them head-on, gripping their fist mid-swing. The impact sent a shock through them both, a raw electricity that stilled the moment. E didn’t pull back, and neither did he. The space between them buzzed with an unspoken understanding—a recognition of equals, of opponents who respected each other enough to give everything.

Logan’s gaze drifted over their features, taking in the fierce focus, the glint in their eyes that had come alive in the heat of combat. He could feel his own pulse thundering in his chest, the thrill of the challenge, the sheer admiration for their skill. Whoever they were, whatever their story, they were damn impressive.

Their faces stayed close, eyes locked in a dance of silent words and wild, racing thoughts. He realized then, amidst the push and pull, that they weren’t just sparring. They were testing each other, challenging what they thought they knew.

When they finally broke apart, their breath heavy, Logan took in the slight rise and fall of their chest, the gleam of sweat on their neck. He let out a slow, impressed hum. “You weren’t holdin’ back, were ya?” His voice was low, rough with something more than exertion.

“Not my style.” E’s sly smile was full of restrained satisfaction. “But I thought you’d be a little faster, Wolverine,” they taunted, breathing hard, a mischievous edge to their tone.

Logan chuckled, the sound more rumble than laugh. He rolled his shoulders, a smirk playing on his lips as he nodded. “And you’re better than I thought. Maybe I misjudged ya.” The admission came with its own weight, but it felt right. “Wasn’t expectin’ you to get that fired up.”

And there it was again, that pull in the air between them, a flash of mutual acknowledgment that only seemed to heighten E’s energy. It hung in the air like an invisible thread, binding them to something that was no longer just a sparring match.

“Guess you bring out the best in me,” E added, their voice softer now but no less charged as they straightened, wiping a sheen of sweat from their brow.

This fight, this moment, was more than just a test of strength; it felt like a line had been crossed, an unspoken understanding forged in the heat of battle. Logan’s heart skipped a beat in his chest, and for once, he didn’t bother suppressing the feeling. He’d had his fair share of fights, of sparring matches, but this had felt different—charged, almost like a trial, a test that had changed something between them.

He let a smirk tug at the corner of his lips. “Seems like we both do, huh?”

Their gaze glinted, a hint of mischief mixed with something he couldn’t quite place. “Careful,” they said, voice low, “You might actually start liking me.”

He shook his head, though a glint of something warmer shone in his eyes. “Don’t go gettin’ ideas. I still don’t trust ya,” he said, though there was a reluctant admiration in his tone. “But I can’t deny you’ve got skills.”

They both stood there in the quiet clearing, the tension between them heavy and electric. It wasn’t just the fight that left him on edge—it was that undeniable force that surged through them, the energy that seemed to bloom under his attention, his respect.

They held his gaze a moment longer, something unspoken passing between them. And finally, E’s expression softened, the intensity in their eyes dimming as they nodded slightly. “You ever want another round, you know where to find me,” they said before turning on their heels, the tension between them lingering like the echo of a battle not quite over.

As they walked away, carrying their shoes in one hand, Logan felt a strange pull, something magnetic urging him forward, a reflexive need to know more. Before he could think better of it, he called out after them, half-jogging to close the distance. E paused, glancing back with a raised eyebrow and a hint of amusement in their eyes.

They were checking their phone, frowning at a few missed calls, their thumb hovering over the screen to call back. But before they could hit the button, Logan spoke up, his voice steady despite the racing of his heart. “When d’you reckon we could do this again?”

They looked up, and for a second, there was a gleam of something mischievous in their eyes, a playful spark that was hard to miss. Their lips curved, and that teasing smile tugged at him in a way that caught him off guard. “Oh, can’t get enough of me now, huh, pretty boy?”

Logan felt a tingle in his gut, the playful edge in their voice threw him for a second, that casual nickname landing unexpectedly. They made him feel like he was fifteen again, trying to play it cool in front of someone who seemed way out of his league—a completely new feeling for him. A part of him wanted to fire something back, maybe a quip about how he wasn’t in it for them, but for their skills. But he deflected instead, maintaining his composure. “I want to know more about your style. It’d be good for the team. Could give us an edge, y’know?”

“Good for the team,” E echoed, amusement flashing in their gaze as they cocked their head, weighing him. “If you say so.”

They turned their phone over in their hand, clearly tempted to tease him further, but before they could say anything, he cut them off, “Remember the training sessions Charles mentioned in the meeting? Did he told you about the Danger Room?”

E raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at their lips. “I might have heard of it… but maybe you could tell me a little more?”

Logan nodded, sensing an opportunity. “Well, it’s…let’s just say it’s our own personal, high-stakes training ground. If you want, I can walk you through it sometime.”

E considered him for a moment, their posture straightening as they regained their composure. “Alright. How about we meet back here tonight, after dinner, for some sparring again, and then you can tell me more about this danger room you’re talking about.”

“Tonight, huh?” he said, a hint of a smirk returning. “Yeah, I can make that work.”

“Good,” they murmured, their hand brushing his arm as they stepped past him, a fleeting, electrifying touch that sent a shiver through his skin. It was nothing—a casual touch—but it was enough to spark that strange charge between them again, something he could feel deep in his gut.

“See you tonight, then,” E said with a half-smile, their voice low, almost intimate. They turned, heading back toward the mansion with that damn sway in their step, every move as deliberate as their fighting style, leaving him there, watching and feeling just a bit off-balance. He couldn’t shake the feeling that, tonight, he was in for more than just another spar.

Logan was no stranger to being haunted by his thoughts, and most of the time, it was his past. But this was different—it wasn’t memories lingering in his head, it was someone alive and present, shifting through his thoughts like they had every right to be there. He’d spent the better part of the day moving from task to task, hoping that the routine would get his head on straight. He’d given three history lectures to classes who looked mostly bored out of their minds, walked the mansion perimeter twice, and even joined Hank in the lab for a solid hour before irritation got the best of him.

And still, every damn time he tried to clear his head, they were there. E. A quiet thrill snuck through him at the memory of their last spar, at the way they’d moved with that sharpened focus, picking up on his admiration like they could feel it.

Which they probably could. If his suspicions were right, E could sense admiration the way he could sense a lie—and that alone was a reason to keep his distance. But he hadn’t, not really. He’d leaned into it, watching the way they seemed to glow under his attention. That look in their eyes when they caught his gaze? Couldn’t shake it.

Damn it, it was making him question everything.

You’re not some lovesick puppy, bub, he thought, dragging his hand through his hair, frustrated. Get your head on straight.

E wasn’t his responsibility, not in the usual sense. He wasn’t there to watch over them or protect them. That wasn’t his job. Not that they needed him to, anyway. But the pull they had on him—some strange mix of curiosity and something else—wasn’t something he could easily shake off. He wasn’t sure if it was admiration, attraction, or something more dangerous, but it gnawed at him all the same.

Things never ended well when he got close, especially with someone like them. It was better, safer, to keep his instincts in check.

But still, when he thought about seeing them again, it felt like a twist in his gut, like he was waiting for something he couldn’t name, something primal. It was maddening, intoxicating—a feeling he hated as much as he longed for. And he couldn’t help himself.

His thoughts braught him back to them again, as he remembered the way E’s strikes had picked up speed, their movements sharpening with every surge of his admiration. The memory sent a chill down his spine. His jaw clenched as his mind raced. The urge to spar again—to see how far he could push them, what more they could become—tugged at him. But damn it, he had to remind himself to focus. He was here, not in the damn glade.

“Get ahold of yourself, damn it,” he muttered, hoping the sound of his voice might help break the spell. “You’ve got enough ghosts followin’ you around, don’t go invitin’ another.”

But E wasn’t a ghost. They were sharp, present, and so fucking alive. He didn’t want to admit it, but that made all the difference. This wasn’t some lingering regret or phantom from his past. It was real. And that made everything harder.

It wasn’t just his admiration—it was the way they challenged him, the way they made him feel. That pull, that instinctive response—it was there, simmering under the surface. And maybe that was what scared him the most.

Because even now, he couldn’t decide if it was them or their powers making him feel this way. The pull was real, but was it them? Or just some side effect of them feeding off his admiration?

Damn it. Logan clenched his fists, trying to shake it off. But no matter how much he fought it, E’s presence lingered, just out of reach, but never really gone. They weren’t his responsibility, not really—but hell if his instincts weren’t practically begging to make them his.

Hours dragged on, the sun dipping lower in the sky, but Logan found himself waiting for night to come. Waiting for the next sparring session. His body was wound tight, focus frayed, and he knew damn well it was because of them. No matter how hard he tried to pull himself back, some part of him was already leaning forward, eager to step into that clearing again, to see how much further they could go, how much more they could push each other.

His reason fought to resist, but he honestly wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep fighting it.

Logan settled into his seat in the dining room, but he wasn’t really there. He’d forced himself to join the others for dinner, hoping that the casual chatter would ground him, help shake E from his mind. But as plates clattered and conversations flowed, he found his thoughts still circling back to them—and to the way their strength had fed off his admiration. It gnawed at him, that feeling he’d fueled them somehow, that his respect had made them stronger, sharper. A part of him didn’t want to go down that road, but damn if he wasn’t already obsessing about the next sparring session, counting down the minutes.

He tried to focus on the idle talk around the table, but most of it only seemed to make his hackles rise. People were talking about E—debating whether they’d be joining the team in the future or if this was just a one-off thing. To them, it felt like E was edging their way in, and they didn’t like it. He could see the unease in Bobby’s frown, the way Marie’s gaze flitted to him, clearly feeling out where he stood on all this.

Eventually, the young woman turned to him, her brow raised in question. “So, Logan… what d’you make of her?” she asked, misgendering E without a second thought. “You’ve spent more time with her than the rest of us. ”

His reaction was swift and sharp, his tone a bit harsher than intended. “Them,” he corrected, voice edged. He took a steadying breath, reigning himself back. “They prefer ‘them.’”

Marie and Kitty exchanged a glance at that, a silent conversation that didn’t escape his notice. He forced himself to ignore it, though the sting of irritation remained, mingling with a faint, unexpected defensiveness. He wasn’t the type to stand on ceremony or correct people just to be polite. Still, he wasn’t going to stand by and let them talk about E without a damn bit of respect. But again, why the hell did he feel like he needed to stick up for them?

He tried to keep his tone casual as he shrugged, downplaying it like he didn’t care one way or another. “They’re alright. They’ve helped me out with some legal work, actually. Seems like they know what they’re doing. We sparred too… they’ve got a style that’s different. Pretty sharp. Could be good for you all to pick up some of that.”

The more he spoke, the harder it became to keep the admiration out of his voice. It wasn’t just that they were capable—there was something in the way they moved, the way they fought. Respect had never come easily to him, but with E, it was there, raw and undeniable.

Kitty raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and Logan felt a small spark of irritation as she leaned in. “What’s so special about it?”

He tried to keep it casual but the words flew out of him before he could stop them. “It’s… fast, strong, fluid… almost like watching something crafted. Like art.” Damn it. He hadn’t meant to let so much appreciation slip through, but it was hard to ignore how their moves had lingered in his mind all day.

His comment hung in the air, and he could see the others’ gazes shift toward him, noting how his tone had softened. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, feeling a bit exposed under their scrutiny.

“What’s their power, though?” Bobby asked, curiosity written across his face.

Before Logan could even think of a response, a smooth voice coming from the doorway cut him off. “Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady about their powers?”

Logan turned, catching sight of E leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed over their chest, a teasing smirk on their lips. They looked different than they had after sparring earlier—not as radiant, but still damn good, with that casual confidence that could set anyone on edge. They had changed again, now in some kind of foreign traditional outfit, somehow looking both beautiful and dangerous as their gaze shifted over each face at the table.

Bobby’s cheeks flushed pink at E’s words, and he fumbled for a response, while Marie shot them a half-hearted glare. Logan didn’t miss the slight flicker in E’s expression—a hint of something softer, like a crack in their armor, but it was gone in an instant, too quick for anyone else to catch.

Ororo was the first to break the silence. “What brings you here, E?”

E straightened, sauntering into the room with an air of nonchalance, though their smirk said otherwise, metal chiming on their ankles and wrists. “Sorry to interrupt,” they said, though the smirk made it clear they weren’t sorry at all. “I’m just here for Logan,” they added when reaching him, their hand finding his shoulder and resting there, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Logan’s frown deepened at their words and actions—like they owned him, like he’d just been summoned. Something primal flared within him at the look in their eyes, and he fought to keep his own expression in check, unwilling to let that part of himself show.

“We had another sparring session planned,” he explained quickly, shrugging off their hand, his tone a bit too abrupt. He didn’t want them getting any strange ideas about what this was.

E gave a small nod, a glint of mischief in their eyes. “Yes, a sparring session,” they repeated, voice low and almost playful. Their gaze lingered on him for just a beat too long, that glint sending his instincts flaring.

They turned with a casual wave of their hand, bracelets chiming with the motion, before glancing back at him over their shoulder as they sauntered back toward the hallway. “I’ll be outside. Don’t take too long,” they tossed back with a wink, disappearing around the corner.

The room went quiet as E left, the tension hanging thick in the air. Logan forced himself to finish his meal, trying to ignore the eyes on him. He could practically feel the questions lingering unsaid, the looks exchanged behind his back. But he kept his focus on his plate, forcing himself to eat slowly even as impatience thrummed beneath his skin. Finally, he excused himself, heading into the kitchen to put his dishes in the dishwasher before slipping out the back.

When Logan reached the clearing, he found E sitting cross-legged in the grass, the deep black of their tunic blending with the shadows, disturbed only by the dark red sash at their waist. When they shifted, the golden and crimson bracelets at their wrists and ankles chimed softly, each note cutting through the quiet night. Even their hair and makeup, immaculately done, added an edge to their poised, lethal beauty—a sharp contrast to the rawness of their last sparring session.

They looked like they were dressed to perform and, for a few heartbeats, he was mesmerized. They were utterly still, chest rising and falling so slowly that they could almost pass for a statue, something sculpted by a master, with an eye for each curve and line. The moonlight washed over them, casting an ethereal glow that only added to the aura around them, one part mystery, one part raw strength.

They had felt him, of course. He didn’t have to make a sound; the energy rolling off him was enough. A faint, knowing smile blossomed on their red-painted lips, soft at first, then sharper as it settled. Eyes still closed, they spoke, their voice smooth as silk in the quiet night. “I’m glad we’re doing this again, Logan.” They paused, savoring the weight of his gaze. “I couldn’t focus all day. You… lingered.”

Logan felt his pulse kick up a notch, his mind flicking back to his own restless day—the way he’d had to force himself to push through the usual motions, when all he really wanted was to get back here, back to them. He tried to keep his expression steady, giving a small shrug as he stepped closer. “Your style’s… intriguing,” he said, hoping it sounded casual, unaffected. But he knew better, and they did too; the spark of warmth they felt from him seemed to seep into their own energy, feeding them.

They savored it, and now he could tell. He watched as something in them shifted, as if they were becoming more than they had been a moment earlier, like his presence and attention added a new depth to their form. Finally, they opened their golden-hooded eyes, meeting his gaze head-on. The shimmer of the powder accentuated the sharpness of their stare, turning it into something almost regal.

Rising to their feet with the delicate chime of metal, they moved with an effortless grace, stretching in a way that was deliberate, flexing their muscles as though reminding him of what he was about to face. “It’s called kalaripayattu,” E said, their voice steady. “It was my foundation. But… it changed, especially in Turkey.” Their gaze darkened momentarily, a flicker of something painful passing through their expression before it settled into a smirk, masking the past. “Not all evolutions come from the best places.”

Logan's jaw tightened at the admission, a familiar pang settling low in his chest. He’d seen that look before—the one that spoke of scars hidden under skin, memories too heavy to carry yet impossible to drop. The urge to say something, to tell them he understood that kind of burden, nearly surfaced, but he bit it back. This wasn’t the moment for words; they both knew that. Instead, he nodded, letting the unspoken understanding hang between them as he rolled his shoulders, cracking his neck as he watched them, that low hum of anticipation lighting up in him again.

E grounded themselves, digging their toes into the grass like they did before their last fight, finding their balance in a way that was both practiced and primal. Their stance shifted, flowing into something new—a crouched position, one leg stretched back and the other supporting them low to the ground, arms raised toward the sky, palms pressed together, like a warrior in prayer. The pose was unexpected, striking, and undeniably dangerous.

“You ready for round two, pretty boy?” They smirked, mischief dancing across their face, challenging him in a way that was hard to ignore.

Logan felt his pulse spike at the nickname, an involuntary reaction he stubbornly refused to acknowledge. It got under his skin in a way that was both infuriating and exhilarating, making his chest tighten with something unspoken. He cracked his knuckles, returning their smirk with one of his own. “You think you got it in you to keep up?” His tone was thick with confidence, with that hint of wild pride that only emerged when he faced someone capable of pushing him to his limits.

“Oh, I know I do, sugar.” They let the word roll off their tongue with a teasing lilt, eyes gleaming with challenge.

They shared a look, two rivals who’d found a rare equal, sizing each other up, caught between the thrill of the fight and the satisfaction of knowing that tonight, there was no one else who could possibly match them.

And then, as the tension reached its peak, both held taut in that breathless moment, they launched at each other. Their bodies collided, a clash of motion and control, every inch a dance of precision—not with brute force, but with a dynamic grace, a synergy that felt almost primal. E moved first, sliding low to the ground, almost flowing, their actions fluid and deliberate, bracelets and anklets chiming with every shift. Each touch, each brush of their hand along his arm, shoulder, and side was deceptively soft, like a caress meant to lure rather than harm. But Logan wasn’t fooled. He felt the energy coiled in every motion, understood just how deadly each one could be if they chose it to be. He knew the strength they were capable of. Those strikes—gentle as they were—carried a restrained power, and he sensed it, a whisper of the damage they could inflict if they changed their mind and decided to hurt him.

They circled each other in a rhythm that came as naturally as breathing, bodies weaving in and out, almost as if bound by a magnetic pull. E struck out with an open palm, a grazing motion that skimmed across his ribs, a warning rather than a blow. Logan responded, ducking low and twisting around, countering with a restrained swing that they sidestepped with ease, pivoting on one leg, the other extended gracefully behind them. Their fighting style was a thing of beauty—each move sharp, controlled, yet inherently lethal. It was all in the restraint, the elegance in the way they flowed around him, closing the distance only to slip away, like waves ebbing back from the shore.

The touches, brief as they were, left lingering warmth against his skin, almost delicate in contrast to the fierce intent that lay beneath them. Logan could sense it with every shift in their stance, every breath they took—if E wanted to, they could bring him to his knees. It was a tantalizing threat, one that made his blood sing with the thrill of the fight.

In return, he matched their intensity with his own. He countered with his own practiced moves, his ferocity meeting their grace—rougher, rawer, like fire pushing against wind. He didn’t back down, wasn’t about to let them get too close without a response. He dodged, weaved, barely avoiding some of their strikes, slipping by with mere inches to spare. When they made contact—a calculated strike to his shoulder—he could feel the charged intent behind it, even as they held back, making him stagger back just enough to shake it off, smirking, before charging in again. They danced around him, a perfect, untamed rhythm building between them, and he found himself moving faster, sharper, like every step forward fueled the energy between them, both testing the other without any intent to truly harm. He could feel it in the air between them—something feral, almost like a mating ritual, the way their movements mirrored, challenged, and matched.

They struck again, this time low, forcing him to leap back and adjust, his grin widening with every movement. It was as if they were bound not by competition but by an unspoken connection—a bond that thrived on the intensity, the way they pushed each other without ever holding back. They were not opponents, nor allies in the typical sense. There was no give, no yield. Neither wanted to win or lose. They just wanted to keep moving, to stay in that almost sacred moment, as if time could stretch itself around them, infinite, like two forces swirling endlessly into one another, an ouroboros that neither began nor ended.

E’s presence seemed to shift, to pulse with each strike and dodge, a captivating intensity building under the lights as if drawing energy from the exhilaration in Logan’s gaze. The more he felt—admiration, awe, the raw thrill of the dance—the more vivid they seemed, their form almost transcending reality in the moonlight. Their eyes gleamed with pure, unfiltered joy, and he saw it, saw the way they thrived under his gaze, every ounce of respect and challenge he sent their way amplifying their allure, making them seem more vivid with each passing second. They absorbed his fire, his strength, and reflected it back, their entire being moving with an entrancing grace that felt more alive than the world around them, their movements turning quicker, sharper, a need to show him more, to perform for him, to be seen. It was like they wanted him to witness the full extent of who they were, to understand how much he fueled them, empowered them.

And still, they did not relent. They wove through their attacks with such artful grace, arms sweeping in wide, lethal arcs that never quite struck him, but came close enough to make his heart race. Logan could feel the tension build in every swipe and brush of their hands, a coil wound tight within him, a primal urge to keep going, to fight like this until the stars themselves faded from the sky.

In a final sweep, they pivoted and leapt into the air, their body twisting mid-flight as they spun over his head, landing with barely a sound, crouched low, their gaze burning as they looked up at him, alive with energy, skin aglow. They seemed transformed, radiating something almost otherworldly, as if their exchange had unlocked something deep within them.

They rose slowly, never breaking eye contact, a faint smirk tugging at the edges of their lips, and Logan felt a surge of awe and something deeper, something inexplicable. This hadn’t just been a fight—it was communion, the give-and-take of two forces that could spend eternity bound in this endless, exhilarating cycle. In that timeless, breathless exchange, Logan felt the truth of it. He’d found someone who matched him, who fed off the same fire, who thrived under the heat of his gaze just as he could under theirs. And as he steadied himself, breath ragged, he knew one thing for certain—he didn’t want this moment to end.

But then, unexpectedly, E burst out laughing—an honest, unrestrained, melodic laugh that broke free as if from a place long hidden. They threw their head back toward the sky, eyes closed, arms open, an untamed joy that caught Logan completely off-guard. That sound—it wasn’t mocking, nor was it triumphant. It was raw, genuine happiness and it sent a ripple through him, something deep and visceral. His chest tightened at the sight, at the way E’s expression softened for just a breath, letting the mask slip enough to reveal the humanity underneath all that skill and bravado.

It lasted only a few heartbeats, but in that space, Logan felt a shift. The air between them crackled differently, heavier, as if the laughter had broken down an invisible barrier neither had admitted was there. E’s eyes met his, searching, almost daring him to react, to see beyond the sparring and the guarded quips. For once, there was no battle in their gaze, only an invitation.

Logan’s eyes lingered on them as he tried to steady his breathing. A slow grin creeped across his lips, a rare thing that made the edges of his face soften, the soft, unguarded joy in E’s laugh still echoing in his mind. “Enjoying yourself, huh?” he said, voice rougher than he intended, a mix of exertion and something deeper. He’d seen them as fierce, elusive, hidden behind layers that only cracked in quick, playful smirks. But tonight, they’d shown him something true, almost sacred, and he couldn’t look away .

E’s smile didn’t fade as they stepped closer, their chest rising and falling in time with their breaths. “More than you know,” they replied, voice low and charged, carrying a promise unspoken yet understood. They stood close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from their skin, the space between them almost humming with potential.

Logan’s gaze couldn't leave them, their bare sincerity, their easy grace, the way they stood under the stars as though they belonged there more than any place he’d ever seen. For once, he was stripped of any clever response, any guard. He didn’t look away, either, though something in him warned he probably should. He could feel it—how much more they seemed to want to show him. How much closer he wanted to be.

They could feel the fire burning in his gut, feeding their hunger in a way that made the ache to stoke it grow stronger. Under his curious eyes, they began moving in slow, hypnotic turns, delicate and precise, metallic chimes echoing from their wrists and ankles. They were dancing—an ancient and untamed choreography, meant only for the night air, the moon, the stars, and him. Logan could almost feel the pulse of their energy in his bones, awakening that place deep inside him that almost never stirred, except in moments like this—moments fleeting and rare. His reason urged him to keep his guard up, but his defenses were slipping, worn down by the rhythm of their dance and the raw humanity of their movements. He found himself stilling, breathing slow, caught in the silent music only they could hear.

Then, they stopped, releasing a deep, contented sigh, like someone freed after being bound for far too long. They looked at him, an unfiltered calm in their gaze, and the sight of it drew something close to an ache in him.

“Thank you, Logan,” they said, their voice holding a warmth he rarely heard from anyone.

He gave a short nod, gruff as always, but inside, her words struck him with a strange weight. “Didn’t do much,” he muttered quietly, shrugging it off.

“Oh, but you did.” E’s lips curved up, but there was no teasing, no facade, only quiet gratitude. They extended their hands, twisting their fingers and wrists slowly in delicate, almost playful movements, while their bracelets chimed softly against their skin, as though savoring the freedom, the lightness they’d reclaimed. “Since you gifted me peace, tonight, I’m gonna give you a gift of my own,” they whispered, stepping forward. They reached out, their fingers brushing his forearm, a casual touch that set his nerves on fire. "You’re leaving yourself open here," they murmured, their skin grazing his, their voice close enough to send a shiver down his spine.

A current shot through him, sharp and electric, but he rolled his shoulders, masking his reaction behind a rough mutter. “Ain’t used to sparrin’ against dancers.”

“You’ll learn,” they replied, their smirk tugging back into place, the hint of that earlier mischief glinting in their gaze again.

For a moment, they both fell silent, the night air cooling around them. E’s eyes shifted upward, to the expanse of stars overhead, and Logan felt the pull too. The sky was scattered with pinpricks of light, stretching endlessly into the dark. It reminded him of how vast everything was, how small he was within it, how his years—his long, battle-hardened years—were just a blink in the vastness above. And yet here, with them, under this open sky, he felt strangely anchored.

Beside him, E’s voice softened, thoughtful. “You ever feel like you don’t belong anywhere?”

Their words hit him, catching him off guard, reaching into places he usually kept sealed. It gnawed at him, the way they stood there looking like a piece of the sky had touched down, that soft glow in their eyes, one of peace, of gratitude, maybe even of kinship. There were few people who’d ever asked him something like that, fewer still who might actually understand the answer.

“More often than you’d think,” he muttered, the words escaping before he could second-guess them. He kept his eyes trained on the stars, the expansive sky above, as if it could ease the ache that always lingered somewhere in his chest. “Don’t matter where I go, or who I’m with—there’s always this… hole. Even when I’ve got a good thing goin’ on.”

They stayed quiet, listening, and somehow that silence gave him the space to keep talking.

“I got a family here, I know that. Hell, got more people than I ever thought I’d get who actually care if I stick around or not,” he said, his voice gruff, but his words open. “But sometimes… feels like I’m just borrowin’ time. Waitin’ till somethin’ pulls me back out there.” He motioned vaguely to the woods, to the wild that always seemed to call his name when he lingered too long within four walls.

E shifted, their eyes softening, and that glow in them brightened almost imperceptibly, as if his words, raw as they were, had stirred something in them. They looked at him in a way that felt like understanding, a wordless acceptance of the parts he rarely let anyone see. He felt his pulse stir again, just under his skin, something vulnerable and hungry for connection clawing its way out.

“Maybe you’re meant to belong somewhere that’s not on a map, you know?” They tilted their head thoughtfully, a gentle shrug in their shoulders. “I know that sounds… vague, but some of us are a little too wild, even for this world. Doesn’t mean you’re without a place, Logan. Maybe it’s just somewhere different.”

Logan let the words sink in, feeling the honesty in them settle like warmth into his chest. He wasn’t used to anyone framing it like that. Usually, the mansion’s residents treated his absences like quirks, a fact of his nature, but it was different with E. They seemed to see through his wanderlust, to recognize something in it that went deeper than just the need to roam.

“Hell, maybe,” he murmured, running a hand through his hair as he tried to shrug off the sudden vulnerability that gripped him. “Dunno if anyone ever told me it was all right to be that way.”

“Guess I just did,” they said, that teasing gleam returning, but softer this time. “Wherever you belong, Logan… you’re welcome in my orbit.”

He raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at his lips. “What happened to ‘I don’t need anyone, especially not you’?” His voice was rough, but there was an unmistakable spark of curiosity in his eyes.

E’s expression faltered for a moment, a flicker of defensiveness tightening their features before they smoothed it out. “I don’t need anyone,” they repeated, but the words held a different tone now—less sharp, more open. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t offer a place to someone who needs it… if they want it.”

The words hung between them, suspended in the night air. Logan felt himself drawn to them again, a subtle battle between reason and instinct churning inside him once more. The reasonable part of him couldn’t fathom giving in to that unspoken need, but another part of him, primal, wanted to reach out, to take up their offer without a second thought. So against his better judgment, he let himself step closer, studying the way they seemed to radiate with a quiet strength, a calm that fed into his own unrest in a way he couldn’t quite grasp.

E met his gaze, eyes steady and searching. “Who knows, maybe it could calm the need to wander for a time.”

A flicker of something softened Logan’s expression as he watched them, the words settling deep. “Not a lotta people see me,” he admitted, his voice gruff but his gaze locked onto theirs. “Not like this.”

E smiled, soft but sure. “Maybe because most people aren’t looking in the right places.”

They reached out, their hand brushing his forearm lightly once again, this time lingering—grounding him as much as it startled him. The tension between them was palpable, gnawing at his insides, at that hollow void that filled him. It felt like their connection was solidifying, and it was dangerous. It made his pulse race, his mind screaming at him to pull back, even as every fiber of him longed to stay close. He felt the warmth of their fingers as they pulled away, leaving a faint tingle in their wake. And suddenly, he wanted to know more about them—where they came from, what scars they hid beneath their words and allure, where they honed their fighting skills, what their true power was. So many questions burned on his lips, but he settled for something less intrusive instead.

“What about you… you ever stick around long enough to feel like you could belong somewhere?” he asked, voice low. He didn’t know where the question came from, only that it was out there now, drawn out by a need to connect, another piece of himself he rarely showed.

E paused, searching his eyes. “Once, maybe,” they murmured, and for a moment, a flicker of something deeply personal passed over their face. “But not for a long time.”

The weight of their words hung between them. They shifted again, the lingering sorrow barely visible before it was replaced by their usual confidence. But Logan caught it, the faint sadness, the echo of a familiar ache that mirrored his own. For just a heartbeat, they weren’t his rival, his partner in combat—they were something else, something fragile and human, someone who understood, and it awakened his protective instincts, making his claws itch under his skin.

“Guess we both got a little lost along the way,” he said softly.

They nodded, still holding his gaze, that warm glow growing just a touch brighter. “Then maybe we don’t need a map tonight. Just… a moment to be here.” Their eyes softened, catching his, and the way they looked at him, as if he was the only other soul in the universe, chipped away at some wall he hadn’t even known was still there.

Logan managed a rough smile, a smirk that barely covered the pull he felt toward them. “Guess I could live with that.”

E’s smile spread, almost in relief, as the two of them stood there—not fighters, not strangers, but two people sharing the same quiet space under the stars, filling the empty places between them, if only for a little while. Before he could stop himself, his thumb found its way to their cheek. The pull between them felt almost tangible, a lifeline connecting two drifting souls lost in the unending current of life.

Their face relaxed instantly under his touch, their eyes closing as a deep sigh escaped their lungs. They sensed his desire before he even realized what he was about to do. The world around them seemed to fade, the rustle of leaves and distant hum of crickets dissolving into the quiet thrum of their hearts. He leaned in, his lips so close they could feel the warmth of his breath, the space between them charged with anticipation.

And then they felt it—a subtle, almost magnetic pull as the energy began to flow, unbidden, from him to them. It was faint, like the first tremor of a storm. Panic flickered behind their eyes as they opened, the realization sharp and immediate. With a graceful tilt of their head, E shifted just enough for his lips to brush their cheek instead, the warmth there a bittersweet reminder of what could have been.

Logan froze for a moment, surprise flickering across his expression before he blinked, as if shaking off a spell broken by the soft press of his lips against their cheek. He pulled back, eyes searching theirs for answers, confusion and something deeper swirling in their depths. The space between them thickened, heavy with the unspoken.

“I—” E’s voice wavered, a soft, apologetic smile tugging at their lips as their fingers drifted to the necklace at their throat, the cool pearl grounding them. “It’s late,” they said, each word layered with unexpressed longing.

Logan’s brows knit together, confusion still etched across his face as he took in their expression, the unguarded look that spoke of things they couldn’t voice. E took a long, steady look at him, memorizing the rough kindness in his eyes and the silent question he wouldn’t push. The pull between them ached with what they had to refuse.

With a deep breath, E took a step back. “Goodnight, Logan.”

The silence lingered as he watched them walk away, their silhouette fading into the night. Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted—something deeper than he’d anticipated. And for the first time since they’d met, he wondered just how much control he truly had over the pull that tethered him to them, an unknown force that defied the walls he’d spent a lifetime building.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don't forget to follow the tags "Devilish Desires" and "xpressit writings" to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

[personwithatophat]

Living Theory

as much as i want to say this is a crack theory, I do believe it ill take the loss if I'm wrong but the proof is here Generation loss theory I don't think the cast is dead. in fact I don't think there were any deaths in TSE Ep 2 This theory that the cast is still alive has a few roots that range from really easy to stupid complex we can start easy. Easy: The idea that showfall media can revive the dead needs to be questioned more. This run-down, abandoned mall with some camera equipment and brainwashed streamers having the power to raise the dead so easily that they will kill off characters, off-screen, legitimately. just in order to bring them back, doesn't make sense. if we find out that showfall mall is some TADC rebuilt reality, fine. but so long as we're working with real-world logic this is taking a step in a direction that's way too far from the rest of the story. "well hetch talked about reviving the cast, Hetch said it was all real" Hetch is an unreliable narrator. in generation loss, it's a very important (and horribly confusing) constant, that we have no reliable narrators.

Medium: All the deaths in Ep. 2 are comedic and nonsensical. it's in a way that's clearly portrayed to us as fake, and portrayed to the characters as real. while there's definitely some wiggle room for improvised show and trying to decipher what's supposed to be real or what is a prop, this is something that they do multiple times through the show where they aren't trying to convince US what's on screen is real, they just have to convince the CAST its real to get the proper reaction. An example of this could be the wall in Ep 1 that was obviously fake but was treated as realistic until the right piece of dialogue came through before sneeg comments on how obviously fake it is. In Ep 2 nikki dies with a comically long pistol, vinny gets crushed by a loony tunes anvil, ethan goes off screen with a rotating wall, the wall-crushing scene is powered by two rats slightly pushing sneeg and austin against a mostly empty room, and puzzler blows up leaving his shoes and slightly torn up chair wizard of oz style. all these deaths are silly, goofy, comedic not just that but since we know sneeg comes back to be in part of ep 3, it implies that austin and likely all the other equally goofy deaths weren't real either. Hard: ok for this just hear me out. at TFC - 20:40 and TSE 49:18 for Ep 1 ranboo picks up a cinderblock in order to slam it against sneegs cage lock. as ranboo hits it against the lock, it doesn't work, and the block warps in his hand. this is because the block is made out of foam, later on, sneeg actually throws the brick at ranboo during the evil snag fight. both ranboo and sneeg comment on the block being real to them. In TFC this scene of the block warping in ranboos hand is actually changed to have a different, debatably worse camera angle just looking behind ranboo and hiding the obvious prop behavior. if the founder's cut is acknowledged by the founder and this is an imperfection that was corrected, then that in its own way is an acknowledgement in canon that the block is made out of foam. Stick With Me If the block is made of foam and sneeg throws the block at ranboo, causing ranboo to reel back, then that means that showfall can simulate the feeling of pain. at what point other than this, would it be relevant that pain can be realistically but heavily simulated? The Surgery Scene. So let's swap the script. Let's say that during the surgery scene, charlie really was just there with a tub full of goop. in this case, it would be *much easier* and *much more effective* to fake the gore instead of the slime by having a short, few-second-long period that charlie feels like he's being cut open and reacts appropriately then find a way to do it real. and if the surgery is fake and its on screen its hardly a challenge to fake an off screen character death or 4. I wont speak for all the deaths but I have my eye on Ep 2 -Tophat

[juvinadelgreko]

imagine you’re coming into school on your first day of third grade, and you’re bummed out because you have to share pencils with your older brother instead of getting your own pack because your family didn’t have enough money for two packs this year. you watch him walk down the hall towards fifth grade, and you’re so focused on waving to him that you don’t realize you forgot to ask him for pencils on the way here. the train was really crowded this morning and the guy next to you smelled like old cheese, so it wasn’t your fault you forgot about it until now.

it’s too late, though, your brother is lost in a jumble of really tall fifth graders. you don’t have time go find him now! you hope that one of your new classmates has an extra. you walk into your new classroom. none of these people look familiar and they’ve already split off into their little friend groups, that you still can’t figure out how to break into.

lucky for you, there’s one kid sitting alone—but he looks kinda scary. he’s got spiky black hair and smudges of dirt on his face and a nasty bruise on his arm that you know came from a fight. he might punch your lights out. it’s a weird saying, you think, but you knew what it meant because your big sister had said it to your dad just last night:

i catch you stealin’ their lunch money again, i’ll punch your fuckin’ lights out!

your big sister’s been using that word more and more lately. she still never lets you use it.

it had sounded serious, and you know you don’t want your lights punched out, whatever it means. but you can’t do the first day of school without a pencil!

you sit down behind the scary boy quietly. you peek over his shoulder carefully. you did this to your brother last night and he’d called you nosy. you’d responded back that no, actually, you’re curious, because you’d studied your vocabulary words every night last year and you knew that curious was the grown up word for nosy.

his drawing is a fire breathing snake of some kind, maybe a dragon. it’s really good. you’ve never seen another third grader draw that good. you wish you could draw that good. you think of your favorite book in the school library from last year. it had a dragon on the cover. maybe you could write a story like that to go with his picture.

but if you’re going to do that, you need a pencil. you hope he has an extra in his worn out backpack. his older brothers probably handed it down to him the same way as yours. maybe they know your older brother. you’ll have to ask him later if there are any kids in his class that also have spiky black hair and are kinda scary looking.

you take a deep breath. he’s just a classmate. classmates are supposed to share with each other. you’re not a second grader anymore. you’re not afraid of him. you’re a big bad third grader, you’re not afraid of anything!

can I—can I borrow a pencil?

the boy whips around and you jump back. you hadn’t meant to scare him.

you ever talk to me again, i’ll fuckin’ kill you.

something clatters on to your desk. you look down. the eraser’s almost gone, the end is all chewed up, and it’s barely sharpened. but it’s a pencil.

you don’t say anything else to him. he’d told you not to. you get it now, why he’s sitting alone. it makes you sad.

you turn the pencil over in your hands. it’s short. lots of other kids have used it. you wonder which one chewed on it. you definitely won’t, because you know it hurts the pencil. also, it just tastes bad.

you stand up and walk to the pencil sharper. you know this is going to take a minute, but it’s ok. class hasn’t even started yet, and you know it’ll write beautifully if you just give it some love.

@psychicskulldamage your comic bit me…

[please-let-me-be-horny]

The Good, The Bad, The Neutral: The Intern.

(Just a short SFW story as requested by @peaches-and-gore, she does some great artwork of these guys, go give her blog some love. This story isn't gonna be very horny at all so this is more for the fiction readers than the erotica fans)

The warehouse had been Neutrals Idea. Hidden in plain site in the industrial part of town, little to no civilian presence, and no reason to question a work van pulling in and out of the area. Even now as he crossed the train tracks and pulled up to the large metal shutter, he was confident to the point of arrogance that this was a safe location for him, Good and Bad to conduct their business.

"ok, so this is where we do our work. This is where you will be expected to be when we aren't here. Stay off my computer, don't go into Bad's room, and for the love of god, do NOT mention comic books In front of Good, I don't need another headache."

The girl sat in the passengers seat had responded to job opening Neutral had posted online. According to the ad, it was for a house and pet sitting with generous pay for the employees discretion. "So...you guys live here then? In a warehouse?" She couldn't hide the small tone of surprised excitement in her voice. She loved her creepy, dark buildings. Neutral didn't respond, holding a hand out of a window as they pulled up to the shutter of the warehouse, signalling for them to be let inside.

The interior of the warehouse was massive and sparce. At some point it had been used as a hangar, but over the years had been repurposed and altered for factory and industrial use, before falling into a condemned state. It was clear this wasn't a home at all, but a command center. Small desks set up around the open space, various computers and monitored showing a live CCTV feed to the surrounding area, and a couple of temporary office cubicles that appeared to have been repurposed into comfort facilities.

"ooooh you guys have your own bat cave, huh?! This is rad!" Neutral shot her a glare, hoping Good hadn't heard that comment, before reaching into his pocket and producing a small medical mask. "Here. This is your uniform." The mask wasn't the same as his, featuring a design baring a "3" shaped mouth and some blush marks on the cheeks.

"really? I mean...cute but like...you don't have like a cool gasmask or creepier...." She was cut off as Neutral leaned foreward and looped the straps of the mask over her ears, pulling the cloth covering of the mask back and letting the elastic of the straps snap it back into her face. "Details are my business. Not yours. Come on." He opened the door to the van and stepped out the drivers seat, moving to the front of the vehicle and waited for her to join him as he leant against the grill.

"everything you see here after today is strictly confidential. You talk about it anywhere, we bring you back here and you never leave again. Understood?" The girl swallowed hard, hesitating in her response, before another, friendlier voice came from further inside the compound. "Awe, Neutral finally brought a girl home to meet the family, we were starting to worry about you, mate."

Good poked his head out from behind a fridge, smirking behind his mask in response to Neutrals subtle embarrassment. He may have been wearing a mask, but Good knew his brother well enough to know when he was getting under his skin.

"This is our newest employee. She's here for work, not pleasure. She's gonna be keeping an eye on the place whilst we're out on business." Neutrals hand made it's way back up towards his temples, rubbing the annoyance out of his mind at Goods idiocy. "That's Good. He's our...well he doesn't do much but he does his best." Good responded with a friendly wave, before ducking his head back into the fridge. "I'm guessing Bad is....well Bad will be in his room..." Neutral pointed towards a door, seperating a large portion of the warehouse away from the open space. The door was marked with a lot of caution signs and black and yellow tape, as well as a few blood stains. The room itself didn't have its own ceiling, revealing that a variety of ropes and chains had been hung from the rafters and had been lowered into the seperate space.

"That's the room I avoid, I'm guessing? Any particular reason why?" The question was innocent enough, but before neutral could properly formulate an answer that didn't make the job sound dangerous, the door swung open, as Bad stepped out, wearing a plastic, blood stained apron and large, rubber gloves that came up to his elbows. He was holding a claw hammer in one hand and a cassette tape recording device in the other. Bad froze in the door way, cocking his head to one side in curiosity as he spotted the masked stranger stood with Neutral. Through the door way behind him, the new comer could just make out the silhouette of someone strung up by their wrists, hanging limply, head bowed and hair concealing their features.

"Bad, this is the new Intern. She works for us. Play nice." At this point, Bad closed the door behind him and began to approach the pair of them. Leaning down, neutral whispererd under his breath into the interns shoulder. "There'll be a spray bottle full of high concentrated Ammonia in your desk. If he gets a little...handsy, give him two blasts to the face and he'll back off." Offering her a not so reassuring nod, he turned to face Bad as he drew closer to them, stepping a little closer to the intern for her safety. Bad approached her specifically, looming over her and looking down into her face, eyes flicking erratically between her eyes and the cat mask she was wearing. He lowered his face a little further towards her own, inspecting her mask more closely, before straightening back up and offering an approving nod. He then offered her the cassette recorder, pushing the play button. She was met with the sound of struggling, grunting, strained breath and whimpers, as well as what sounded like wet, hard skin on skin impact.

"o-oh! Th-thank you? It's uh...it's lovely, Bad...." She tried her hardest to hide the obvious concern in her tone, her small voice slightly muffled by the mask. Bad simply nodded again, reaching up to ruffle her hair a little bit, before taking the recorder back, and heading back towards his room. Neutral waited until the door slammed shut again before placing a hand in her shoulder and guiding her further into the warehouse towards one of the smaller desks. "And that's why you wear the mask at all times...on the plus side, I've never seen him respond so fondly to someone else before. He must like you." Neutral shrugged, before gently knocking on the wood of her new desk. "This is you. Your computer is all hooked up. There is a VPN installed. Use it. Good made the mistake of ordering pizza to the last place we were in, so we really would much rather not have to go through the process of burning this place to the ground and finding another suitable location..." Goods voice echoed from his place near the fridge, retorting to Neutrals blame throwing "hey, it's not my fault none of the hostages wanted to eat your marmite sandwiches. Was I just supposed to let them go hungry or something?"

"yes, Good. You were. That's the point of stress based interrogations...and you didn't tell me you tried giving away my fucking sandwiches." Once again, neutrals hands moved up to his temples. By now the intern had gotten a chance to observe neutral a little closer, and was begining to notice just how tired his eyes were. "Right....any questions? Because I'm not gonna hold your hand through this, I'm too busy keeping the other two in check to baby sit you too."

"uh...well....lots, actually...." She was begining to feel gratful for the mask, swaying back and forth anxiously as she blushed looking up at Neutral. "so uh....are those headphones noise cancelling? Are you in charge of the other two or do they just do what you say? Are you the brains of the operation? Why-" she continued to to prattle off multiple questions, yapping like an excited child.

Neutral simply sighed, turning his back on her and making his way towards his own desk opposite hers, slumping into his office chair, and booting up his computer.

[bishopony]

Hello, I have heard that you wanted your followers to show their MLP/other collections, so here is mine! It's not much, but that was all I could find right now.

Here is my collection of MLP figures/plushies. Some of the figures have been messed up a bit...You can see some red marker on Fluttershy's hooves (it ain't blood, ya nutso!) and even one of the wings is missing on Starsong. I never found it but that's ok because imperfect is ok :) Funko Pops are also in here...Pre-Alicorn Twilight, Trixie, Seapony Twi, and Bluebelle (an exclusive!).

There's also other stuff I put in there like four little unicorns I got at the dentist, a unicorn stress ball (her name is Believe), a LEGO Creator 3-in-1 unicorn set (you can also build it into a peacock or unicorn seahorse), and the unicorn from the Inside Out movie.

Next up, comics and misc! There's the Elements of Harmony official guidebook (covering MLP FiM stuff from seasons 1-3 from the show), lots of comics bunched up, and even a signed comic from Brenda Hickey (to the left of the first-ever MLP comic, if you look closely)! The story behind that is that in 2015 my city held its very own comic-con called "Starfish Con" and Brenda just happened to be there. I also came home with the first FIENDship is Magic comic and a big poster featuring the Mane 6 and the Starfish Con mascot drawn by Brenda. Unfortunately, the con was short lived and ended around 2016-ish :(

And here's something else...a G3.5 sticker sheet from a coloring book with all the stickers still intact! (fun fact I started MLP from this generation)

And finally, some pins and buttons! I am a sucker for these things...anyway, some of these I found lying around at middle/high school (the LGBTQ equal-sign button, a button of some anime girl I really don't know about but looked cool, and the "love who you love" pin) while others come from places I went to in the past or given to me as gifts. The MLP buttons I have are Rainbow Dash, Derpy's Cutie Mark, and (new to the collection) a hilarious face of baby Flurry Heart and Misty Brightdawn from the G5 comics. I got them at my first-ever HarmonyCon back in February.

That's all for my MLP-related collection! Hope you like it :)

very nice collection! found stuff is always cool, and I've always liked the mlp funkos

[megaawkwardhuman]

finally explaining the bunny thing!

ok I'm currently really board and stumbled upon an old sketch book and I've decided hey let's FINALLY explain why tf I draw wwdits characters as bunnies (cuz I know it's random as shit and I personally find the story behind my bunny art intresting)

so strap in cuz I'm going to write a lot for something I could probably sum up in two sentences

also small heads up a lot of drawn cartoon violence and blood ahead sooooooo :|

if you just want a short answer I draw these goofy looking bunnies cuz 1 it's fun 2 it's kinda a way to release stress and just a way to overall put myself in a better mood. at first I was drawing the same bunny getting kill/injured over and over again and now I draw characters I like as cute bunnies cuz it cheers me up and it's fun!

ok so I know that last part came out of nowhere but to explain a bit of how tf we got from point a to point b that let's go to the long answer

OK SO (wow I say ok so a lot sorry idk how else to start shit lol) THIS ALL STARTS SOMETIME AROUND EARLY 2022

well if you really get technical it all starts like late 2019 early 2020 when I first read a little comic called johnny the homicidal maniac then picks up in early 2022

in the comic there's a character called nail bunny which as the name kinda suggests is a dead bunny with a nail in it and I wanted to draw this character for whatever reason (I think I might have re read the comic? or I was just bored at the time idfk)

shortly after starting I gave up and instead doodled this:

why yes that was a heart and yes I did scribble all over it and stabbed it with a pencil for some reason? I kinda learned not to question past me at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

so later that night I couldn't for the life of me sleep and idk why but I couldn't forget this bunny I drew so I pulled out my sketch book at the time and drew this:

(btw the little virgo simbol in the corner of some of these drawings was my signature at the time cuz it's my zodiac sign and I thought it looked neat)

and as the next day came and I talked to my friends over discord I STILL couldn't get this bunny out of my head so we gave her a name

this plush (yes despite bleeding this bunny and any bunny I draw is intended to be a plush bunny which is why I draw them with twinkies for arms and legs) bunny over here is named alexis (named after a friend who wanted the bunny to be named after her) and from that day onwards it was my goal to needlessly kill/injured her over and over in ridiculous ways

the story I created for this character to kinda justify it is that she gets killed/injured in ridiculous ways often (which is why I draw her with X eyes) cause her luck is just REALLY shitty and she just kinda accepts it all at this point ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

some of my favs from this time:

as times goes by I draw her less and less (cuz I shit you not I ran out of ideas) to the point where I kinda stopped drawing bunny art

jump to later in 2022 and after creating a pixel art shitpost which led to me learning pixel art (but that's another story for another time) I realized wait a minute I actually really like this but idfk what to draw

then I remembered alexis existed! so while chatting with a good friend of mine I asked how should I kill her this time (yes that's exactly what I asked he knew about the bunny thing tho) he said "dying peacefully in a hospital"

so like the great friend I am I decided to be a dick and drew this

this led to the creation of a new bunny character alexis's friend/roommate/idfk what they are anymore courtney!

courtney's little shory is she knows alexis, she has witnessed her die far too many times, and in later drawings she would gain the stare of a victorian child

no joke she looks like she saw her parents die of the plague

after asking the same friend what else to draw alexis doing I also created a zombie bunny but I didn't really draw them much

all of this sparked another wave of bunny art with like a few digital drawings but after a bit it went back to traditional but now with color!

some faves from this wave:

now ngl this next point is a blur but soon I would draw something that would change the course of history bunny art where bunnies AREN'T killed *gasp*

so apparently this happened earlier this year but it feels like it happened last year ngl

at this point I wasn't drawing bunnies AS much but I would doodle them every so often and for whatever reason I decided to draw stede and ed as bunnies (it might have to do with the fact that I'm not the greatest at drawing humans but idk)

and for a while it sat in a notebook with the only people I've shown it to being my irl friends

that is until the one year anniversary of this show when I decided to open up that pixel art website again and turn it into pixel art! (here's a link to the post tho I lowkey wanna redraw this since I don't like the way I drew the ears) and originally it was going to be the only bunny pixel art I was gonna do since it took a while and idk how I felt about the results

but then wwdits brainrot set in and I decided since I suck at drawing humans why not draw my boy guillermo as a bunny and the rest was history

ngl when my bunny art first for attention whenever I saw someone calling it cute in the back of my mind I would think hehehe this only exists cuz I would stop killing the same bunny over and over again

so now you know the history behind the art

yay but why?

weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeell

at the beginning it was just a fun little thing I did and I never gave it much thought. It wasn't until recently as I started to post it onto tumblr I ACTUALLY thought about my bunny art and to say it's just a fun thing to do doesn't really describe it as well as it used to. To me it grew to be MORE than that! it's a simple thing I could draw to mess with new mediums, it's a thing a can draw over and over again and not have to worry about how it turns out since even if I post it on here at the end of the day I'm mainly drawing it for myself, if I need to let off some steam I can draw alexis getting killed in a goofy way, and if I don't wanna draw alexis I can't just draw wwdits bunny stuff since that always cheers me up since it's hard to be upset while drawing plush bunnies (and trust me I've tried)

yeah I know this whole thing is kinda silly and honestly random as shit but this bunny art has a special place in my heart despite me only really doing it for a year

hell it's gotten to the point where I have a small list of rules I stick by whenever creating something bunny related and I have fucking bases I use whenever I'm drawing pixel art of a character as a bunny for the first time

why yes I am taking pastel bunnies far too seriously

I think the funniest thing is (and I think I've stated this before in the tags of a bunny drawing but I'll say it again) bunnies aren't even my favorite animal

that honor goes to frogs (bunnies are in the top five tho)

so this whole thing makes LESS sense if you take that into consideration but idk it's just fun

and at the end of the day that's really all I had to say but I wanted an excuse to talk about the history of this bunny bs lol

thanks for coming to another one of my TED talks and remember I swear I'm not crazy

[engagemachine]

How do you feel about the Joker in your story? Do you hate this character?

@ferrsryserstonin

Hello! Thank you for your ask. I'm sorry this one took so long to answer. I just wanted to make sure I had set aside an appropriate amount of time to give you a thorough answer.

How do I feel about the Joker in Burn?

Well, I hate him.

But I love to hate him.

I've spoken a lot in the past about my fascination with the character of Joker -- my obsession has been ongoing for almost fifteen years now, since TDK first came out back in 2008 -- but I've been fascinated with the character ever since I was a little kid and saw him in comic books and in the media as I was growing up. I think the Joker was my first exposure to a character who was so openly evil and who loved being evil, and that always intrigued me.

Good and evil was so black and white to me when I was little, strictly in the sense that I was taught that being evil was bad and wrong it made you into a miserable person... so to be faced with this character who swung so assuredly in one direction -- and who had so much fun doing it -- was just so crazy to me. While growing up, I'd been exposed to a lot of villains who could be categorized as being more "tortured souls", or who openly struggled with good and evil (Darth Vader, for instance, is a great example of that) or even villains who were burdened by some other "greater" purpose, whether it was greed (a desire for power/money) or this sense of misplaced justice, or perhaps revenge. But the Joker isn't motivated by these things. And his total lack of a conscience means he doesn't struggle with being evil. He loves it. He is constantly looking for ways to be even more evil, to push the boundaries of what he is capable of. He fully embraces what he is. He loves the reign of terror and chaos he's brought down onto Gotham.

As I've gotten older, what constitutes as "good" and what constitutes as "evil" has obviously become less black and white, and there are far more gray areas to take into consideration, but that's kind of where the fun in writing him comes into play. I do think the Joker is evil to his core, but I have also enjoyed sprinkling in little bits of humanity here and there. It's never not thrilling to see the man behind the mask. I also like that, throughout the story, there are moments peppered throughout that really make you question whether he's just done something for his own pleasure and enjoyment, or if it's because he actually cares for Taylor. I think for the most part, the answer is usually fairly obvious, but there are instances that kind of make you wonder.

So do I hate his character? In a word, yes. I think he's evil, conniving, selfish, beyond redemption (this is important) and, if I believed in the death penalty, that he should probably/definitely be put to the electric chair. I base these opinions off my beliefs that a) the Joker is not mentally ill (like some interpretations would like to claim) and b) the Joker does not want to be redeemed. He is perfectly content with being the evil little shit that he is.

I'm going to link you to this post that I hope will shed some more light. I feel like people tend to ask if I "like" the Joker because they want to suss out whether there could possibly be any redeeming qualities to his character, and whether it's OK to want to see Taylor and him end up together (and correct me if I my assumption is wrong, but I'm also basing my reply around the questions you posed to me in the private message you sent).

The short answer is: of course it's okay to want to see them be together, and it's important for you, the reader (and for any other readers out there) to know that it doesn't make me upset if that is how you feel. I mean, that's the whole driving fascination with the story, right? This crazy, obsessive, and toxic dynamic they share... we can't get enough. They're polarized magnets, always inextricably drawn to each other no matter the distance.

But this is also a work of fiction, and therefore is a safe space in which to desire wanting to see these sorts of evil things play out. It goes without saying that I do not condone any of these behaviors in real life, and I am sure none of my readers do, either. If Taylor were a real person, I would scoop her up into my arms and hide her away from the Joker forever. She's been so deeply manipulated, groomed, and traumatized by him that she can barely differentiate up from down. He is her whole world but only by his design. Has has quashed -- at every single turn -- any hopes of Taylor ever having a normal life, because he's a selfish, manipulative bastard who only wants her for himself.

I think a lot of the fascination I have with this particular dynamic is that I love to see evil men be brought to their knees (or, at least, a close approximation to it) by the most unsuspecting person -- who in this case happens to be a seventeen year-old girl. There is no denying that their energy is borderline explosive when they're together. And I am here to tell you that that is okay to want to see that play out, to want to see their co-dependent relationship turn even more obsessive and dark than it already is. I don't think any of us would be here, reading this story, if we didn't enjoy -- at least a little bit -- the toxic dynamic that has slowly been unfolding for the past twelve chapters of Burn.

Anyway, I hope this adequately answers your questions. I love talking about the Joker and I'm happy to do so any time! Thank you for reading.

[danhoemei]

@carmine-sunlight <33

ok firstly tyk

10. tyk - double wkx

saw this post that some peeple didn't know that wkx is the valley master in woh although his face was shown early, and someone thought that maybe it's an evil twin situation lmao. So I had an idea to write a short thing with two wkx's, the evil valley master and the wkx we know, ofc both into zzs and fighting over him while zzs is ?? Kind of like the bingge vs bingmei extra in svsss lmao

11. tyk - reincarnation au

my fic that i have Big Plans for but somehow got blocked and it's on hold for now. It's an au where wenzhou die and enter reincarnation cycle but keep missing each other (or meet, but too late) due to different reasons, until we arrive in modern times and I finally let them meet properly and fall in love and uncover their past 👀 the main story happens in modern times but there are flashbacks to the past. I also had ideas for extras with their other reincarnations, so I could have fun with fem!wenzhou or enby!wkx x transmasc!zzs or some tragedies like mafia wenzhou that killed each other or they missed their ages completely and grandpa wkx dies just after meeting a kid zzs after searching for him half his life :')

I started writing it inspired by art, so each chapter has art attached (with permission) <3 it's also a mishmash of tropes because it was just a fun project where I kept throwing ideas and writing whatever came to my mind. Some chapters are posted on ao3 here, some more content is here under tag #tyk reincarnation au. I think I got stumped at the point where I need to sit down and actually plan some things instead of writing whatever, and wanted to discuss with someone but didn't want to push myself onto others, so here I am xd

12. tyk - scorpion encounter recreation

so uh 💦 it's um. an explicit fic 😳 where. what if wenzhou actually recreated the stick-porn that zzs drew for the scorpion king lmao

i remembered that i posted some first bits here and here, it's just a comedic slice of life with chengling who needs to bear with wenzhou's bickering. Later parts would go into the hot territory

have a snippet:

Wen Kexing was silent. More like, had been silent for a long time already, while usually his nagging voice seemed to never shut up for more than 5 minutes.

Zhou Zishu’s eyes narrowed, and he turned his head slightly to the side to evaluate the situation. Wen Kexing seemed completely lost in thoughts, his eyes looking straight ahead with a distant look to them. The only movement was his hand which repeatedly rose with Zhou Zishu’s silky hair being run through his fingers until the strands slipped and fell softly onto his lap. Almost without stopping, the hand reached down again to grab a handful of hair and twirl it between the fingers as the slow combing ascend began all over again.

Could he have fallen back into bad memories or unnecessary thoughts all on his own after being left alone for a mere hour or so? Zhou Zishu sighed and decided to magnanimously pull him out from them.

“Lao-“

“Do you ever think about that porn you drew for the Scorpion King?”

Zhou Zishu’s concern died on the spot, and he closed the book with a loud bang.

“No.”

They're idiots but they deserve each other 😌

13. tyk - walnut comic (both writing and comic)

Basically this, i wanted to either make a small comic or write it properly but both are still just sketches, so only the meme conversation stayed xd

2. gentlebeard

just their reunion haha

"I wish I could say I never left. But I did. I admit it because I don’t want to hold anything back anymore."

with a note at the top of the doc file: "when you think it's already only fluff i'm waiting behind you to slap you with angst" buahahahaha

3. tgcf - pick up gege (comic)

this LMAO (hua cheng with a shirt "your son calls me daddy too" comes to pick up gege from jun wu)

Reveal your WIP folder

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous

let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it.

Tagged by @punk-weiwuxian THIS IS SUCH A COOL TAG THANK YOU also it made me revisit all the wips I have and I'm partly 😭 but also partly 💚

Writing:

dream - demons

gentlebeard

Hannigram's fall

nandermo - turning

prisoner - a dream

prompts - Minor villain

rpgs - kraken lmfao

shen yuan transmigrates into lbh’s body

tgcf - fengqing

tyk - double wkx

tyk - reincarnation au

tyk - scorpion encounter recreation

tyk - walnut comic

text note 14/05

text note 23/04

text note 07/04

text note 18/02

there're more, scattered in different apps as drafts but I won't dig further xd

Comics/art:

leili training

open the door

tgcf - pick up gege

trzęsawisko doodles

tyk - walnut comic

Tagging @evugh-draws @blackwatervial @snarkspawn @crisdrawsandcries @ohohsomething @thediktatortot @theyilinglaozus @antique-forvalaka @lenateliier

[astaroth1357]

"Hi kinda new. I don't know if this is where requests go, but if you haven't done it yet can I request an MC sneaking into the boys beds?" ~irenethehotdog

The MC Sneaks Into the Brothers' Beds While They're Asleep

@irenethehotdog don’t worry, I found ya anyway. 😁 Sooo there was a kind of tender way I could have played this… but then there was a funny way. I hope you're alright that I went with the funny way. 😅 I got two bed requests that are kind of similar-ish but how I’m interpreting them makes them just different enough to warrant two different asks. Here's the first one!

Check out my Masterlist for more!

Warning: Comical nudity? Is that NSFW-ish?

Intro:

Sometimes everybody needs a little comfort, especially in the middle of the night. Any number of things could have drawn the MC out of their bed: bad dreams, nagging thoughts, just general fear of the darkness of Hell that surrounded them, but they decided to try to soothe their unease with the company of their demonic housemates! Wonder how that turned out for them..?

Lucifer

I mean, if you’re feeling a little alone at night, maybe a little scared, it would only be natural to want to seek solace with the strongest person in the nearest vicinity, right? ...Right?

To say it was maybe ill-advised to just climb into bed with Lucifer would be an understatement… Frankly, if the enchantments he had on his door weren’t specifically meant for Mammon then they might have ended up in a very compromised position. But somehow, they managed to infiltrate the demon’s private sanctuary and get right up to his bed.

Now, Lucifer is not a heavy sleeper. Not at all. He’s grown pretty accustomed to waking up at all hours of the night because of his brother’s antics, so he felt the shifting weight on his mattress almost instantly.

They probably weren’t expecting him to suddenly jerk upright and spin towards them, fireball in hand ready to lob at their face... but that’s what they got.

After realizing that it was just the human and not Mammon coming in to take his stuff again, he made them sit down in front of his fireplace while he gave them a looong lecture about personal boundaries and how it’s really not smart to sneak up on demons like that… 

But he was still sympathetic to their sleep-deprived state so he offered them some tea and Devildom sleep remedies in hopes of getting them back to bed. ...Just not his. Back to your bed with you, MC.

Mammon

Mammon was their “babysitter.” Their protector. Their guardian. So why wouldn’t they want to go to him on a difficult night?

Getting into Mammon’s bed was hardly a challenge, sure they had to tiptoe through the garbage heap that made up his bedroom floor but it wasn’t Mission Impossible or anything…

What did catch them off guard was just how… not clothed he felt after they slid in under his covers. Like, pretty much wearing nothing at all. Not even a pair of courtesy boxers. 😓

It was their squeal as they flung themselves out of the bed that actually woke Mammon up. They had him ripping the covers off, ready to leap into action and everything, which definitely didn’t help matters. (Or maybe it did, depending on your point of view 🤷‍♀️).

Both parties pretty much turned into a cursing/blushing mess as he shot them embarrassed, rapid-fire questions while desperately trying to pull on some sweats. Meanwhile the MC stayed plastered up against the wall of his bedroom, answering him in equally defensive shouts.

Eventually, their fuss woke up Lucifer who was quick to send both of them back to their respective beds. The House teased them mercilessly for weeks… How were they supposed to know Mammon slept naked??

Leviathan

Levi might be a… strange choice for bedmate at first glance (he doesn’t really even sleep in bed, but a tub hardly meant for two people). However, there’s a certain level of approachability to him, isn’t there? Considering his own struggles with anxiety, maybe they thought he could relate…?

They tried knocking on his door first, thinking he might have been gaming, but there was no answer. When they walked in and found the otaku actually asleep for once, it seemed like their wishes might have actually been granted!

...But then came the actual trouble of trying to get into bed with Levi to start with. There wasn’t really an easy way to squeeze their body in past his because the tub was so dang narrow…

Any rational person might have just given up on the venture, but not MC. Whatever's possessed them to want to sleep with this awkward shut-in has a pretty good hold on them yet.

Lack of sleep might have been what gave them the bright idea to just try and lay on top of Levi veeerrry sooooftlllly…. Which is how the poor demon woke up to them halfway straddling his waist in the middle of the night.

His remarkably high-pitched scream woke up the whole dang House and the sheer amount of force he used when trying to jerk out of the tub toppled it over… Even after many apologies (and a trip to go buy a new tub), Levi still double locks his door at night to this day… 😓

Satan

Really an odd choice there, not going to lie. They’re well aware of the possibility that they could accidentally wake him and he maaaay not be the best waker (what being Wrath and all) but if it’s irrational worries that got you down, why not go to the most rational person in the House? Sounds like a perfectly logical decision, right?

That might have been what their half-baked disillusions were telling them on the way to Satan's bedroom but actually standing in front of the sleeping man was a whole other story. They felt crazy, genuinely crazy… But they still slipped in under the covers anyway.

Satan stirred almost immediately and turned to face them… but his eyes could hardly keep focus and the look of dopey confusion on his face could have honestly made the perfect screen background. "Huuuuuh…? MC…? What're you doin' 'ere…?"

They kind of had to hold in a laugh while they explained that they just wanted to sleep next to him that night. Satan beamed them an oddly serene smile and just nodded. "Okaaay…" With that he seemed to roll over to go back to sleep… but his mind caught back up with him before his drowsiness did.

"Wait a minute..." Ah shit….

 Like Lucifer, Satan ended up giving them a pretty good lecture on boundaries and the like when he finally snapped out of his stupor. Thankfully he wasn't mad, just a little embarrassed that they had seen him like that. He offered them a good book or two to pass the time if they couldn't sleep, but sent them back to bed all the same.

Asmodeus

Asmo probably doesn’t get people coming into his bed with completely chaste intentions very often, but he’s by far the most emotionally in-tuned demon in the House. If they're after a little sympathy, best just go to Asmo right?

They weren't really sure what to expect when they walked into his room... Does Asmo sleep like a Disney Princess, hair and makeup done perfectly in defiance of all laws of beauty?

Does he sleep like a '60s housewife, with curlers in his hair and leftover chips of mud mask on his face?

Does he sleep like the god of all sex that he is, sculpted chest for the eyes to see and everything underneath laid bare like a honeypot of temptation??

The MC doesn't really get to know, because when they pulled back the covers to climb inside they were met by the sight of someone else's very naked ass taking up the spot where they thought Asmo should be.

They go back to their room willingly, dejected and maybe a little scarred... Apparently they were just too late to the party...

Beelzebub

Okay, everything about Beel screams “Hello! I’m a warm comforting teddy bear!”...aside from the hungry parts. It’s really not hard to see why they’d want to go to him if they’re feeling a little vulnerable.

They didn't worry too much about being quiet when they walked into the twins' room. Belphie could sleep through a rock concert and Beel wasn't too far behind him (as long as he wasn't hungry).

They figured that the tall twin wouldn't mind too much if they just crawled into bed with him… He had make a similar request of them before, it was only fair right?

As they were preparing their tired body for a good night's sleep, they gently pulled the covers back next to Beel but they probably weren't expecting to find so many food wrappers surrounding him… or bags of chips… or packages of cookies… or-

Apparently Beel had yet another sleep-eating run and this time he seemed to have brought the whole kitchen back with him. There was hardly enough room left for Beel anymore, let alone the MC!

Considering their options were to either wedge themselves between a havoc roast and a bag of jerky or just brave one more night on their own, they cut their losses early and went back to their own bed...

Belphegor

They didn’t have to know Belphie since Day One of being there to pick up on how hard he slept. The man was pretty much in a coma for most of the day and that included his nightly rests too. Would he even notice if they… per say… slipped into bed with him to get a little comfort from their nightmares? Surely, he’d stay asleep, right?

When they didn't see his sleeping form in the room he shared with Beel, the MC eventually found Belphie up in the attic room. His little hideaway with a plush-ass bed to boot.

They didn’t bother being quiet at all. They figured that Belphie could have stayed under for anything short of banging pots and pans in his ears so why try to mask their footsteps?

They never expected him to be awake. 😰

The moment they lifted the covers, Belphie struck like some kind of blanket crocodile! He grabbed them by the waist and dragged them into the spot of the bed right under him with a impish grin on his face.

Turns out they weren't the only ones having sleeping problems that night and as they felt the full weight of his worn out body settle in nicely up against theirs they knew that maybe, finally, they'd get a good night's sleep… 🤭

[its-me-im-coraline]

Consequenses // Thomas Raggi

words // 1590

warnings // smut ahead hehe and not even a full smut, just a snippet honestly

pairing // Thomas Raggi x F!Reader

author's note // if you want to be on the tag list let me know. ok please let me know on the taglist link if you have asked me to tag you and i havent right now... I lost some of the user names so yeah im so sorry 🥺

request // yes

summary // Reader has been breaking Thomas’ rules by teasing him for days. Thomas eventually is fed up and shows Reader what happens when you disobey.

tag list: @bieberhoodforever @tabi-toast @ginny-lily @moriro-da-regina @the-killer-queenie @makapaka11 @bidet-and-legolas @atremendousstrawberrycollection @otaculo @selenophiliaxx

Music, throbbing lights and booze was the way Thomas and his partner decided to spend his weekend off. An average gathering made to feel like a party amongst the closest friends of the band and everyone’s partners. Of course the guitarist couldn’t resist bringing his lover along. He had not seen her in a while, traveling around and working on new music had made the relationship hard for the two of them, things only becoming harder when they started being unsatisfied with their more intimate relationship. The longing did not help much, instead it brought anger and anxiety, both resulting in ruining both of their moods.

The suggestion came from Y/N in the afternoon after Thomas took a break. They were sitting on the couch watching some tv show neither cared for, slowly trying to relax and potentially do more than sitting on the couch. The thought had occurred a few days ago, while the man was still not there, when his lover was maybe watching a bit of an erotic movie. “Maybe we should… switch,” was all she said. No explanation, no details, nothing.

Not much convincing was needed so here they were. Y/N being dominant was finding it a little hard to just sit there and listen. Thus the dom turned into a brat, choosing to tease the man during their first night together.

It was rather simple to get Thomas all riled up this fine night. They happened to have a small fight before the party (a disagreement over minimal things truly) so they were both in a very tense mood while at the party. Thomas was on the one side of the yard, talking with some of his friends, while Y/N was on the other, revealing clothing and lingerie (with certain movements it was visible to the man - and anyone else that paid attention, but not many did). The man was unable to take his eyes off his partner. See, she knew that the result would be pretty good.

“Keep this up and the result will not be very nice for you, amore,” he whispered in her ear when he finally approached her. His hand right above her ass, face too close for comfort.

“I am not sure I want to stop,” said Y/N, an evil smirk decorating her face. Her hips moved side to side, making sure the man could see. Back on her plotting she was.

At first things went smoothly: a bit of seductive dancing, a bit of drinking… The casual. But soon that would change as well. Ethan was sitting on a pool chair, joking about Y/N’s dancing, having a playful back and forth with each other until Y/N sat on his lap. It was nothing unusual for the two, it had happened plenty of times before, but both Thomas and her knew that this time was different.

By now Thomas is fuming. If he was in a cartoon his face would have gone comically red, smoke coming out his face in an exaggerated way. The cigarette and drink in his hand did little to help restrain him. For that, he downed the rest of his drink in an instant, smashing his cigarette on an ashtray and moving to his friends and partner. “Sorry to cut your fun short,” he smiled, trying to keep it together, “but me and Y/N need to go. Honestly, I’m feeling very tired,” he finished, taking Y/N’s hand in his and pulling her up and towards him.

Their friends did not say much, but rather voiced their goodbyes allowing the pair to leave the party.

Getting in the car was now the easy task, but one of them was dreading it. She knew that this would be so fun, but she was undeniably afraid of what could potentially happen that night. “What do you think you have been doing, dolcezza?” He all but growled, roughly turning her face towards his with his hand.

“Me? Nothing. I was just trying to have fun with my friends.” Oh, the innocent act. If Thomas wasn’t hot and bothered (more of the later) already, he certainly was now.

“I don't think so, baby. I think you have been very very naughty. I think you need a punishment.” His tone was playful but his eyes told a different story. Y/N was in for a long night, and they were still in the car. Thomas’ hands had already begun to travel all around his lover, faces dangerously close. And like that the vigorous kissing started.

“You shouldn't have acted like that tonight, amore,” he commented before he started driving back to their shared apartment. The ride was quiet but the tension and anticipation was loud as hell.

Patience was out the window the moment Y/N opened the door to their home. Thomas pushed her to the wall, attacking her neck with kisses. “I warned you enough times, my love, now it’s time for actions,” he commented, hand slowly traveling up to her neck, lightly squeezing, blocking the blood flow lightly making her lightheaded but so much more desperate for him. “Turn around and put your hands on the wall - just like that, good girl! Now, ass perked up.”

She was very well aware of what was about to happen and saying that she did not want it would be a lie. She was rather used to serving spankings to the man whenever he disrespected her - rather lenient - rules, taking such an adrenaline rush every time, but oh did she get a rush now, too. Thomas was getting more and more confident by the minute, Y/N getting rather aroused from it.

Thus she obeyed his demands, pushing her ass back, all there for him to do what he wanted. Thomas quickly got to work moving up her tiny little skirt to have her exposed to his will. Her ass looked amazing in that white lace thong she wore, making the man undeniably hard. “You know what you’re doing, don’t you? You planned for this to happen-” slap, “you knew I would not be able to hold back, didn’t you, puppy?” slap. “Answer me!”

“Yes, daddy,” Y/N responded very timidly, slightly flinching every time he struck her cheeks.

“Good, good. Now count for me, and you will thank me for each slap.”

“One. Thank you, daddy,” she began with his rhythm getting quicker and his force bigger by each slap of his palm. They reached around twenty five before Thomas decided on his next move. He said nothing but roughly turned Y/N around, pulling her towards their shared bedroom, lightly. After closing the door behind him - more out of habit than any actual practical reason- he pushed her to the bed, legs automatically falling open as he stared with lust in his eyes.

“Just sit there and do nothing,” he ordered, “no touching, or there will be consequences.” He did not go far after that, he only undressed and picked up the condoms and the lube, just making sure that she was entirely ready (not that he truly needed it at the moment - just a safety precaution) and knelt in front of his lover.

“Mhm,” he moaned, “you are looking delicious, but I’m not sure you can handle it. Maybe we should do this anoth-”

“No, no! Please, I can handle it! I can handle anything! Please, please!” she exclaimed, or more so whined, making Thomas smirk like a cheshire cat and proceeding with his actions.

“Anything, you say? Hm, we’ll see about that.” Oh boy was she about to regret those words.

His tongue started to tease her immediately as he finished his sentence. It was small short licks and little pecks on her clit, featherly but was agonizing in this case. The pace was slow, timid, really, all in an attempt to show his love in the most painful way possible. Her eyes were shut tightly, mouth hung open releasing heavenly (or rather sinful) noises - a pleasing confirmation of Thomas’ plan working perfectly. Y/N’s back was arched up as her head hung behind, chest bouncing in the attempt to gain more pleasure by Thomas.

“Thommy, please,” she whined, earning a slap on her thigh.

“You are being ungrateful, amore. I shouldn’t be giving you any pleasure at all. You’ll take what you can.” The lack of contact for the few seconds he spoke was enough to cause another fit of whines, but his breath on her heat made far worse ‘damage’.

He wasted no time moving up and away from his disheveled lover, moving to the dresser. Y/N simply sat there, mouth falling open, but this time due to confusion. It was clear that frustration had already started to pick up. Thomas on the other hand was enjoying the situation fully, finding it rather entertaining how he could make her melt so easily.

“Thommy. Come back,” she uttered in her usual dominating tone. Nothing. “Thomas, come back here-”

“What did you just say to me, puppy?” If he was pissed before, now he was livid, and it was clear as day. If this were some weird cartoon his eyes would’ve glowed red - a thought that did not help Y/N’s pleasurable fear. His hand had swiftly reached Y/N’s neck, not tightening up, yet making his stance threatening. “I think you have forgotten how things are going on around here, my love. You are not on the lead right now. I am. And you will pay for that.”

[thetriggeredhappy]

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

-

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

-

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

-

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently. 
And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

-

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

-

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”

“What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

-

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

[nymphsupremacy]

Ok I need to post this before the next ep comes out, I drew this when I wanted to sketch out some ideas on a comic that I wanted to do. I wrote before on my 1st post about Anapos that I had plans for him because in myth he is one of the people that opposed in kidnapping of Persephone so its about that. Based on my current knowledge, I don't read any of the fast passes so basically don't know anything that's gonna happen. Keep in mind that I came up with this idea for a month or more than a month ago. For context, Anapos and Persephone have an uncle and niece type of relationship. He does care about her and after hearing the news about her arrest gave him mixed feelings. He did try to get some background info on the matter from other people, he came to the conclusion to go to Zeus to strike up a deal. Based on the info I know atm, I don't think anyone is siding with him for some reason aside from maybe Apollo which is a yikes. It kind of gives me the impression that anyone who isn't siding with our MCs are automatically evil and there is no in between when the situation itself is morally gray. Going back to the story, his deal with Zeus is that if he(+his girlfriend Cyane) can convince Persephone to hand herself over to the authorities then Zeus must give her a lighter sentece because she honestly doesn't deserve to get the Prometheus punishment but she definitely deserves to still get consequences. Think of it like a tough love thing, he believes owning up and taking responsibility is an important learning experience plus he also doesn't want her to get a harsh punishment aswell. Zeus is reluctant because people have been going behind his back, the reaction is justified imo. He literally said the problem isn't the AOW itself but the fact that people covered it up. I believe if Demeter and Persephone came forward about this and the addition of why it happened I'm sure he can understand and give her a lighter punishment. We don't have any basis as to how his punishment can be aside from the myth of Prometheus and when he burned Demeter's crops, all of which are directed at him personally.  Zeus agrees to this deal and he gives Anapos and Cyane 3 chances to convince Persephone, if they fail then the original plan will go on accordingly. Long story short, they fail(did base this off from myth) and they got cursed by Hades by turning them into a fountain in the underworld. It was a red flaggy moment for Persephone.

[creechurfoundincheckerboardvoid]

I only started following you because of my salad fingers phase and you had a crossover comic featuring him, but now the lore of dhmis is enticing and I have no clue where to start. Can you- can you pwease explain it to me?

-dysrix anon

ok got it!!! no problem!!!!!

(before i start rambling excessively i just gotta say that's different to hear lol, i think the majority are around for the puppets and just tolerate mr sally's presence)

OK SO. dhmis is a webseries that started in 2011 as a short film made by a couple of college kids who wanted to say something about not imposing rules on how creativity should be expressed, because art school is kinda just Like That. that video was put on youtube and went really super viral and all the Reaction Video People were a "so scawy 😥" whiny baby about it. the creators wanted to make a series but left the idea alone because it was a lot of work and also expensive (puppetry). then in 2014 they were commisioned to make 2, they did, and then tony the talking clock (emphasis on those last three words) became a tumblr sexyman and a bunch of everyone started shipping him with sketchbook (who they called paige) and humanizing them and it was just this whole thing. anyway thanks to them the creators made a kickstarter to fund the rest of the series and it actually worked out, too. so i'd like to thank the clockfuckers we would not be here without you. i hope you fucked your clock. anyway then over the next two years the last four episodes came out and they were epic and gamer and increasingly Kinda Horrifying (three still messes me up a bit but none of the others ever scared me, it's just more weird than anything. in a very good way) and the last one, six, came out june 19th 2016 (which was father's day, and it hasn't been father's day june 19th since yesterday, and it won't be again until 2033), and it was awesome. then september 13th 2018 wakey wakey (thirteen second long trailer) happened and everyone lost their shit and then sundance film festival in january 2019 where they pitched that pilot they made around (and seeing as the pilot as we know it is almost certainly a lost media now, those very low-quality cam leaks on youtube are possibly all that remains). then in july 2020 they started making the show and well you know Plague Was A Thing That Happened so it was pretty quiet for a while and then august 30th 2021 they announced they finished filming and then february 25th there was a clip continuing the pirate joke and saying they were finishing lines and then late may wakey wakey disappeared aND THEN YESTERDAY FLY HAPPENED AND

and the reason i'm finishing that particular tangent very quickly is that i am now realising you were likely asking about the lore of the story itself. and not its process of existence

well

SO NO ONE KNOWS WHAT IT'S ABOUT.

there sure are a lot of ideas out there!! and i have definitely got my own ideas which i don't really talk about ever because they're honestly a bit too rude to the media theory (which i hate - a lot - but also which a lot a lot a lot of other people really like. so it'd be mean)

ANYWAY THE BASIC SUMMARY OF THE WEBSERIES is there are three puppets and they're yellow guy and red guy and duck and they all live in a house together and every episode some object in their house comes alive and sings to them a lesson about an abstract, basic concept like yknow creativity and time. so it's sort of meant to resemble something like sesame street at first. but these sentient objects (who are usually called "teachers") are kinda Really Fucked Up and the lessons go wrong really fast and usually end in uhhhh murder. also their life is a lie and it's like puppet matrix and roy, yellow guy's dad, really does seem to be the guy pulling the strings behind it all. man it's like thirty minutes total on youtube i don't want to spoil it TOO much in case you ever decide to check it out lol. oh wait. oh wait you asked where to start

well you start there!!!!!!

ALSO there's a bunch of lost videos and that one puppet interview and a collection of little things around miss becky's instagram or mr joe's twitter that all just weaves together with the main thing to make A Web of Story and it's awesome. i'd be glad to tell you all about that too if you ask!!!! i'm very normal about all this that's why i have lists and notes and a handful of rambly word document essays about this everywhere

ok i'm done thanks for coming to autism hour with creech

[levi-ish]

Little Talks | 3

Pairing: Bartender!Levi X Reader

Genre: [+18] Slice of life, drama, romance, fluff, smut

Words: 4k

Warnings: Alcohol, cheating mentions, drugs, cussing

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Masterlist

You [18:21PM]: idk what to wear, help!!!

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:21PM]: u dont need to go all fancy, its just us.

Sash [18:22PM]: wdym??? Its my bday bitch, fuck yea go all out. i am wearing my best dress.

Annes [18:23PM]: whats the point if ur gonna throw up all over it

Sash [18:23PM]: im gonna be hot, that’s the point.

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:24PM]: where are we going again?

Sash [18:24PM]: that same bar from ur bday, (y/n) suggested it

Annes [18:24PM]: my friend works there

You [18:25PM]: ur friend? Jean?

Annes [18:25PM]: yea, we had chem together last semester. hes rich.

Sash [18:26PM]: ohhh I remember him hes the hot bartender. didnt (y/n) make out w him?

You [18:26PM]: wtf i did not

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:26PM]: he was kinda cute

Sash [18:27PM]: ok im gonna shower

Annes [18:27PM]: aren’t we gonna meet at 9?

Sash [18:28PM]: it takes long to look this good also nic is bringing my present and I wanna look good for him

You [18:29PM]: aww cute

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:29PM]: just finishing up some work then im getting ready

You [18:30PM]: are we meeting in the front or are we carpooling?

Mikasa-tu-casa [18:30PM]: annie said armin was going to pick us up

Annes [18:31PM]: he is

You [18:31PM]: see you there then

You took a last glance at the mirror, adjusting your hair so not one strand would be out of place. Two sprays of perfume on your neck and inside your tan sweater and you were ready, running your hands through your skirt to eliminate any wrinkles as you sat on the sofa and scrolled through your phone as you waited for your friends to pick you up.

It took longer than usual to get dressed tonight; you wanted to look good. After the drunken rendezvous with Jean and Levi, you felt too ashamed to come back to the bar, but something inside you bubbled in warmth when you thought about how those strong arms held your hazy frame, holding you close and breaths mingling together…

A honk from outside took you away from your thoughts and you shook your head, grabbing your keys and leaving the apartment.

You entered the white car and found Annie and Armin on the front seats, saluting you as you hugged Mikasa that was sitting in the back.

“Where’s Sasha?” you asked and Annie looked over her shoulder.

“She said something about her present taking a little longer, but she’s joining us later” you nodded and hugged your body as you watched the outside run by while Armin drove carefully.

The drive to the bar wasn’t long, but every little second seemed to last ages; heart pounding inside your chest and hands slightly shaking as they hugged your body. Armin and Mikasa were making small talk as you kept on thinking about Levi, and how everything changed the second he touched you. He surely was a handsome man, and you liked how he seemed to care even if it was in his own weird way.

As you arrived, Sasha was already waiting in the front and with her arms open to hug you three. Armin gave the girl a small hug and kissed Annie’s cheek before leaving you girls to enjoy your night. It was Friday, so the place was bubbling with people from the inside out, some smoking outside and some were at the door, drinking from their bottles as they talked about stuff and laughed loudly.

You were fading away slowly from the conversation as the girls talked about multiple stuff, you didn’t want to be like that, but your whole head was full of anxiety and thoughts about the short man, hoping to see those grey eyes and enjoy his presence from afar. Maybe you would even have the chance to apologize for giving him trouble.

Sasha led the way and found you guys an empty booth, sitting by your side as Annie and Mikasa sat in front of you, and your eyes kept wandering around, trying to spot him. You saw Jean, mixing drinks without any skill and the other person behind the counter, hair up in a ponytail and talking using a lot of hand gestures. You didn’t remember their name though; it was something like Zoey?

You offered to get their drinks and excused yourself to the counter, walking slowly as you kept looking around for just a sight of the man, unsuccessfully. Jean seemed to be busy so the other bartender found you and introduced themselves as Hange, getting excited over how the night was buzzing. You noticed how they exchanged some looks with the busy man, but didn’t make too much of it, ordering the first round of shots and beer for you and Mikasa — plus some hot wings for Sasha because you knew she would be hungry.

Hange handed you the beers and said they would get the other things ready for you at the table, so you went back to your friends.

“Hey, (y/n)” Sasha snapped her fingers in front of you and let out a small chuckle. “What’s up with you?”

“Huh?” You shook your head slightly, gripping the sleeves of your top in your palms. “Uh, nothing, just looking around.”

“More like looking for someone” Annie observed, keeping her hands in front of her mouth as she talked.

“Ohh, is it the hot bartender?” Sasha leaned on the table, watching your face closely.

“Jean or Levi?” Mikasa asked, letting out a small yawn.

Wait, what?

“How do you know Levi?” you frowned as Annie excused herself to go to the bathroom.

“You mean my cousin, Levi?” she crossed her arms over her chest and gave you a curious look. “The one who owns this place?”

Fuck, what?

Levi owns the bar?

Well, he was always the one to close the place.

Wait, fuck.

He’s Mikasa’s cousin?

That kinda made sense, at some point. He looked like Mikasa to some extent, same cheekbones and the same cold stare. God, now that you learned that new piece of information, things started to fit together more and more.

But the real question was, where is Levi?

“So it’s Levi then” Sasha pointed out, seeping on her beer while Hange came with the shots and placed them on the table with an excited screech.

“What are we celebrating?” They clapped happily, looking between you.

[…]

It started playing some Akon song when you guys downed your fifth shot for the night. Sasha was on her third plate of hot wings, stuffing her face while sauce accumulated on the sides of her mouth. Annie had that blush around her cheeks and was playing with a straw she put on her beer mug, twirling it around her fingers and humming to the rhythm of the music. Mikasa didn’t seem drunk at all to the naked eye, but the way she giggled from time to time was a signal that the alcohol was getting through.

You stopped looking a long time ago, knowing that Levi wasn’t around and wallowing in your misery wouldn’t do you any favors — you just hated that you had dressed at the thought of him being there.

The bar was already emptying, the buzz of conversations dissipating as you gulped the rest of your mug, letting out a satisfied sigh.

“Ah, there is my favorite client” you heard a voice approaching, turning right away to see where it was coming from only to find Jean already folding his black apron. “Ohh, Annie, you’re also here. Haven’t seen you since… chem? Still mad I cheated from you?”

The blonde rolled her eyes and sipped on her beer. “You’re lucky I didn’t snitch.”

“Don’t be like that” he smiled as he scooped closer to you, resting an arm around your shoulders. “Aren’t you gonna introduce me to your other friends, (y/n)?”

“That’s Mikasa and that’s Sasha” you pointed at them and they gave small waves.

“It’s my birthday!” The ponytail girl exclaimed, giving him a small full of sauce. “Put some wings on the house!”

“That’s not how it works” Jean smiled shyly, turning his attention on you. “Unless…”

The girls did the same, all staring between you two in confusion.

“Unless what?!” You frowned, pushing the empty mug forward.

“We can put it on lover boy’s tab. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind” the ash blond man gave you a little jab with his elbow and a shake of brows.

You blushed profusely. What?

“Oh! You mean Mikasa’s cousin?” Sasha put a finger under her chin, looking as if she was thinking hard. “What’s his name again?”

“ARE WE TALKING ABOUT LEVI?” you heard a scream coming from the counters and all your heads turned at once.

Hange jumped over the wooden surface and rushed to your table, putting both their hands in front of your group.

“I heard… oof” putting a hand to their chest, they exhaled loudly, rubbing a droplet of sweat from their forehead as they scooted closer to Mikasa’s side, earning a confused look from the girl, “I heard we were talking about Levi.”

“Hey! It’s my birthday!” Sasha cleaned her hands with some napkins and pushed the small, stained bowl in front of the new bartender. “What about some wings on the house?”

Everyone gave the girl a quick glance.

“Oh, oh, oh! Jean!” Hange threw their hands in the air. “Is she the girl?”

“Huh?” You frowned, feeling blush creep onto your cheeks as small chills ran over your body.

“Shouldn’t you guys be working?” Annie asked and they shuddered their shoulders at the same moment it was almost comical. “Hm.”

“What do you mean ‘the girl’”? Mikasa played with the rim of her mug, biting her lip as she seemed to try to understand the situation.

“Jean’s been telling me things” the other bartender wiggled their brows at you teasingly.

“What’s even there to tell?” You now shifted in place, feeling annoyed. “God, he’s been a friend to me lately, what else?”

The ash blond licked his teeth and leaned over you, arm grabbing you closer to his body as he pointed at your nose.

“Makes sense, but at the same time, you’re the only girl Levi has been hanging around since he—”

With a hard slap on the mouth, Hange shut Jean before he could say anything else.

“JEAN!” they screeched, looking distressed. “Not your story to tell.”

With that, they stood from the booth and grabbed the boy by the collar of his shirt, giving you girls a big smile.

“We are closing in 20, I’ll bring another round of beer for you.”

“Wait!” Sasha stopped them and stood from the table; eyes desperate as the remaining people hanging around the bar. “What about the wings on the house?!”

Soon, you were finished celebrating, going over gossip and laughing about nostalgic moments you had spent together earlier in life, and cringing over some other memories, like when you hooked up with Reiner once, or how Mikasa used to fawn over Eren to the point she would even do his homework without asking twice.

After the last round, you split the bill and sang a short ‘happy birthday’ to the brunette that was kind of bummed because she didn’t get her so desired hot wings, and then everyone started to call their rides. Mikasa was sharing an uber with Annie since Armin must’ve been sleeping at the time and Sasha called Niccolo, since they still had to celebrate, she said — you had a feeling that he would have to cook another dish for her to compensate for the wings.

“Are you coming?” Mikasa asked you, tugging on her red scarf as she gathered her stuff from the table.

“No, I gotta go through my tab with Jean” you told them as they were standing, clearly flushed from the drinks. “You guys go, I’ll see you back on Sunday for brunch.”

Annie and Mikasa gave you another look to confirm if you were really staying behind and you just nodded with a small smile while Sasha ran to her boyfriend as he entered the bar, almost dropping him to the floor.

You were sure to stay, now feeling more sober since you didn’t drink as much as usual, still not over the hangover from last time — you became too intimate with your toilet.

“Take care” Annie pointed her chin at you, turning to leave.

Now there were only you and the last two bartenders present. Hange was cleaning some things while Jean yawned, looking half-dead as he threw some old peanuts in the trash. You walked there and sat on the small stool, giving them both a short grin.

“You’re still here? Jesus, woman, just go home” Jean snapped and Hange threw a rag at him.

“Don’t talk to her like that” they grabbed the rag from the floor and washed it on the sink before returning to their chores. “(y/n), is it?”

You nodded and they leaned back on the counter, too close to comfort.

“So, tell me. What’s your secret?” They whispered the last part, covering their mouth with the back of their hand as Jean rolled his eyes.

Leaning back from the fixated stare, you gave them an awkward smile, knowing exactly where the conversation would lead once more. The jukebox now played Bennie and The Jets as you tried to think of something to run away from the interrogatory.

“Are you being paid to work or to harass clients?” A familiar voice came from behind you, making you thank whatever god was above.

Hange and Jean rose their eyes and exchanged the same looks from the beginning of the night, making your whole body flush with the sudden heat. You tried to focus on anything else, too scared to turn away and find those grey eyes that you wanted so much to get lost inside; the same skin you once touched and felt under fingertips; the same hair that would tickle those thin eyebrows and complement the intense stare he always had stamped on his face, the—

“It’s 4AM, why are you still here?” He asked, now you felt the presence of his body behind yours and you were trapped. There was nowhere else to run.

Slowly turning on the stool, you licked your lips and rose your eyes, now gazing back at him, trying hard not to focus too much, knowing there was a possibility of a blush sneaking if you ever so slightly let your guard down.

Levi’s figure always surprised you. He had this big and strong aura going for him, even though he was about the same height as you; still, he was nothing short of muscles. The white shirt he was wearing hugged every inch of his skin so nicely it made your eyes wander around, trying to map out each of his muscles. His hair looked kind of wet, as if he had just gotten out of the shower and the slight scent of his cologne lingered around, and you took in every second of it to enjoy.

“Don’t you get tired of getting drunk?” He asked, raising a brow.

You felt a wave of heat running through your veins, but now with anger. Sure, you were buzzed, but not enough to be considered drunk anymore. You drank enough water for the past hours to be almost completely sober.

“I’m not even drunk right now” you snapped, turning back to the counter as the man scoffed behind you.

Jean threw a rag to the sink right in front of you and leaned between his arms, letting out a big yawn. “Ah! Finally done”

“Same here” Hange noted, taking off their apron and folding it, going to the backroom, Jean following right after.

It became deadly silent after the heavy door closed behind the bartenders. You could only hear yours and Levi’s breaths as he walked to the bar, crossing the counter and you did your best to avoid looking too much.

“You are dressed up” the man made a remark and you looked down at your clothes, adjusting your skirt as you sat.

“It was my friend’s birthday” you replied, tilting your head up just so you could be on eye level.

“What made you want to celebrate it in this shithole?” He furrowed his brows, leaning back onto the liquor shelves.

Levi never hid the fact that he didn’t seem to like the place. It made sense before, since you thought he was only an employee, but now that you learned that he owned the bar, things didn’t quite fit in.

“It’s a nice shithole” you said as you crossed your arms over the counter.

He kept his arms crossed for a while; eyes focused on your figure as if he were challenging you. Without any new expression, the man leaned down to the lower cabinets and grabbed an electric kettle, filling it with the sink water as you watched.

“You never told me you owned the place” you licked your lips as he started to heat the water.

Levi’s hands worked in the cabinet once more, grabbing a tea box and putting it right in front of you, and then searched for two porcelain cups that were just a little chipped around the rim, placing them next to each other and a teabag inside.

“You never asked.”

You watched as he grabbed two silver spoons and filled the cups with the now heated water.

“It’s usually something you don’t miss, you know?” Rolling your sweater sleeves up your elbows, you crossed your arms in front of your chest as the man put the small spoon inside a cup, pushing it towards you. “Normally, people would go like ‘hey, I own the place, drinks on the house.”

“You almost always drink for free” he furrowed his brows as he dabbed the teabag inside the cup a few times.

“That’s not the point.”

Hange’s face appeared from the creek of the backdoor, looking at you both who were now alarmed by the sound of the heavy metal.

“Leviiiii, just letting you know we are leaving” they said and the man just flicked his wrist as a goodbye, shooing them.

The man didn’t turn around, and you thanked profusely, because the look Hange were giving you was too creepy for him to see. They held both thumbs up and smiled before leaving.

Now that you were sure that you two were the only ones present in the whole establishment, you could feel your stomach turn inwards, anxiety taking over and nerves flowing through your bloodline. The man in front of you brought the teacup to his lips, sipping slowly and you noticed the way he held it by the rim. Funny.

“Why are we drinking tea?” You asked, looking at the clock only to see it was 4:43AM, and Levi didn’t look like he had any sleep.

He just stared at you through his hand, lowering the cup just a little for him to speak: “Because I felt like drinking tea.”

The commanding tone of his made chills run down your spine. You knew for sure you were blushing now, so you decided to grab the teacup to hide your face behind it, sipping slowly on the minty taste.

“You look nice” he said, taking you by surprise.

Your fingers suddenly felt numb. Fuck. Before you knew it, it was too late, and the cup was now a splatter of pieces on the counter. The liquid now stained your sweater in a wet spot, the hot tea burning the places where it hit your naked skin.

“Fuck” you let out a hiss. “Fuck, fuck, fuck”

Levi put down his own cup and a little panic showed on his face.

“Take the sweater off” he ordered, grabbing a handkerchief from his pocket and putting it under the sink, drenching it in cold water.

“W-What?” You looked up, skin still aching from the burn and now his choice of words added extra heat to your whole body.

“Jesus, you just fucking burned yourself” he said, jumping to the other side of the counter and showing you the handkerchief.

Not the time to think, you sighed as you took your sweater off, placing it on your side, leaving your dark bra exposed.

You tried covering yourself, knowing the situation was awkward enough already for you to care too much about it. You are an adult, he’s an adult, stop acting like a horny teenager, you thought to yourself as he offered you one of his hands.

Staring for a little longer, he let out a ‘tch’ and rolled his eyes. “Give me your hand.”

You followed his command and slid your fingers into his palm, feeling the warmth envelop you, even if the source was from a small part of your body. He held your hand and brought you closer, analyzing the positions before he could start working on your burns.

“Sit on the counter” he ordered again and once more, you followed.

Adjusting yourself on the cold surface, you gave your arm to him and felt his fingers slide along your skin, warm fingertips touching where the droplets of boiling water hit before, and a little flinch escaped from you whenever he found a new spot. He looked up, as if to see if everything was alright and you gave him a small smile, shaking your head.

“It’s not that bad” you affirmed and he furrowed his brows, lowering his gaze once more.

“That’s because of the alcohol” the man started dabbing the cold fabric carefully, watching every little movement of yours as he did. “Tomorrow, this thing is gonna hurt like a bitch.”

You chuckled at his remark as he held your hand closer to his chest, putting it above your knees in a position where it wouldn’t hurt to stay still. You took a moment to admire his marked features, watching every little move of his and wondering about those eyes, glad that they were focused on you.

Although Levi held this harsh front, he really seemed to care behind those big walls, and that was enough for you to fall.

“Sorry about your cup” you apologized, almost in a mutter, feeling shame crawl under your skin once more.

“It’s a stupid cup” he said, still working on your skin. “I can just get another one.”

“Still, let me pay for it” pursing your lips, you felt his grip on your wrist tighten just a little.

“That’s dumb.”

You sighed, “I keep giving you trouble, I want to make it up for you.”

He stopped the dabbing, looking up to find your piercing gaze already on his. Eyes shining under the dim lighting and silent surrounding you two.

“You’re not paying for the fucking cup” he rose his brow, staring deep into your soul, and now you were scared that he would learn all your secrets.

“I’m serious, Levi” you persisted. “I didn’t even thank you for taking me home the other day.”

“It’s fine” he stuck to his argument, but you also did the same to yours.

“No, it’s not. Must’ve been really annoying.”

“You were annoying, indeed” he let out and you playfully rolled your eyes.

“Sure… but thank you, for… you know—taking me back to my apartment.”

You remember waking up the next morning to a box of Advil sitting on your bedside table, next to a big bottle of water and how warm your chest felt to feel like someone was caringly enough to do that for you. Even for someone who you’d recently just met.

“Stop with this sappy shit and let me work” he rolled his eyes and went back to dabbing the wet cloth on your skin, “you’re gonna get nasty scars if I don’t take care of them.”

Smiling to yourself, you straightened your arm again allowing him the full access to your skin and the man went back to his previous actions. The dawn was beginning to clear and sneak between the blinds, filling the whole place with clarity, and none of you felt tired, engulfing in each other’s company.

TAGLIST 

@zeickv @thirstyforsometea​