#there are a few of them that volunteered as well

[quadradaz]

So set the way back machine to 1989. I am a junior in high school and got roped into being an extra in the school production of The Sound of Music by my girlfriend. This quickie expanded into me doing about three or four different roles in the play. Fast forward a few weeks to actual performances and I find out about the tradition of the cast and crew going to see RHPS after the Saturday performance. I tell my folks about it and after our show wraps up we all caravan to where the midnight showing is at. We all get there to find out that most of the Rocky cast hasn't shown up and they are thinking about cancelling the show that night. Well you can guess what happened, our group volunteers to fill in for the missing cast members except for one. No one fits the right profile for Rocky, well there is one person but he's never seen the movie and has no idea of what to do. He is quickly assured that he can be coached so he agrees to do it. The show goes on and people say that the Rocky performer was great because he made everyone believe that everything was brand new to him. He is asked if he would be willing to do this on a weekly basis but he states he does not have reliable transportation. They tell him that if that changes to let them know.

And that is how I ended up performing as Rocky the very first time I ever saw it.

Have I ever told the story here about how I accidentally saw Rocky Horror Picture Show for the first time while knowing absolutely nothing about the movie at all at 8:10 AM in a literal room filled with theater students who absolutely DID know about it.

[manasurge]

I just wanted to do a bunch of snippets of Mourynn and Wynne during the time when Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker after she awakened (this was orignally meant to just be lineart, but it is easy to mistaken Wynne for Caithe here, so I added the flatcolour version to remedy that)

I figured I may as well include some lore stuff under the cut (mostly Wynne related stuff, but other Firstborn era stuff from around this time as well. Sorry that this is so long lskjdflk):

(Sorry this is all in point form, it’s just easier for me to write stuff out and digest it this way. Suffer with me and my ADHD way of synopsis writing)

After Mourynn (or whoever she was originally meant to be) finally emerged from her pod a year late, she was frail and unstable due to her “unique condition”. It was a miracle she was alive at all, due to her extremely late arrival that was accelerated after her pod died for a short while (due to Vallotash accidentally killing her and trying to reverse her mistake, affectively taking over her body instead and erasing her own memories and replacing it with what remained of the Firstborn’s. More here in the origins link: EPILOGUE)

(The first few pics up top portray Wynne helping Mourynn after Awakening, where her head is hurting terribly and she has no strength to stand on her own yet).

Since there were no Menders at this time (as none of the Secondborn would even exist for another year or so), and their “Late-bloomer” was in need of urgent care or she was bound to perish yet again, Wynne volunteered to be her Caretaker while she was under quarantine for a number of reasons, not all of them made apparent due to sensitive matters.

In addition, Mourynn was originally supposed to be part of the Dawn trio of Firstborn, but due to the uh, situation, she awoke during the cusp at midnight, effectively making her a Nightbloom instead (well, she insists anyways), which was another obligatory reason why Wynne felt compelled to help look after her (with Wynne being the oldest in the cycle, and Mourynn being the youngest).

However, what Wynne never spoke about was the secret she learned about their origins with Mordremoth, a secret she kept with the Pale Tree, and where this gut feeling of unease loomed over in her mind with the consistent unusual things that kept happening with this final pod.

She could sense that something felt very off and she didn’t know what, but she didn’t want to take the risk in case her suspicions were correct. The fact she couldn’t sense Mourynn’s Dream connection or sense her at all was alarming enough, but she didn’t want her worries to be true or to have doubt that one of their own was a danger to them, especially one whom she was greatful to be alive at all. But in the worst case scenario where she was right, she needed to be the one to do what had to be done for all their sakes, even if she really didn’t want to. To protect the secret as long as possible, and to keep the rest of the Sylvari safe, if it had to come to that.

By becoming Mourynn’s Caretaker, she would be able to monitor her at all times and keep watch of her condition. While she hated how horrible it felt having to watch their youngest with a metaphorical knife behind her back, she still did genuinely want to help her get better, trying her hardest to not bond too deep of a connection in case she had to sever it.

But Wynne being Wynne, she was hospitable and kind-hearted by nature. She felt guilty having to watch Mourynn with this ulterior motive and having put doubt in someone who barely had the chance to exist, but she made up for it by working tirelessly to figure out what it was that was causing her constant declining health.

And that, she did!! While Wynne wouldn’t admit that she was avoiding this last approach (after many other various trials) due to what it might entail (dragon connection), Wynne was able to discover Mourynn’s magic deficiency, and had to muster up creative ways to get some magic into her system (with some help of the other Firstborn finding different sources of magic for her to use).

Once Mourynn’s physical status started to recover, she wasn’t uncomfortably bored and bedridden for long hours of the day anymore. Her head hurt way less, she had energy, and was visibly less wilted too. Now Wynne, despite the potential risk of increasing the potential Dragon-link threat by giving it a source of magic, was still relieved that she was able to discover the cause of her problems, and now she just had to help her find a way to maintain it (which is where Mourynn started practicing both Artificing and Cooking TOGETHER to make herself magically enhanced food, as well as potions for on-the-go, but food seemed to be the most effective and long-lasting).

Now that Mourynn was able to actually thrive and be more independent, the two of them could finally converse more thoroughly and do other things. At this point, Mourynn’s entire existence was being connected to Wynne and having her around (even though she desperately wanted to see and know Caithe more after she rescued her from the Dream, she was often out and about elsewhere with Faolain, leaving her with Wynne, who seemed to be the only person who insisted in keeping her around. Something she became reliant on, being her only true comfort and familiarity).

At this point in time, Wynne was the person she was closest with, the two of them spent a lot of time doing other things. Walks around the Grove, Wynne told her stories, Mourynn TRIED to tell her anything, but her memory was nearly void save for the last few moments, which Wynne reassured her was alright (despite it being one of the many signs that worried her).

They would prepare food together, nap together, cloud watch/stargaze, play with Fern Hound pups, Mourynn would show her some of the shaping she had been practicing (exceptionally well too. Potentially concerning) but was too self-conscious to show anyone else (especially Kahedins, who she was forming a one-sided rivalry against). They shared a lot of fond memories and experiences in this short time, and even though Wynne was wary of bonding at all (in case of the worst), she reluctantly cast all her doubts aside as she didn’t see her as a threat anymore, despite the quiet little voice in her head that was still left uncertain, which she chose to ignore.

Now with Mourynn more independent, Wynne could continue pursuing some things she had on hold or could only partially work on during her caretaker role. She would leave the Grove for a while, and would encourage Mourynn to get to know her fellow Firstborn while she went to attend other matters. Mourynn, of course, was TERRIFIED at this thought and avoided them isntead. While she enjoyed the new freedom she had, she hadn’t realized how dependant she had grown to Wynne’s presence, choosing to quietly watch the others in the background (or just go elsewhere to be alone instead).

It took a bit of effort, but Wynne basically had to properly re-introduce her to the others (how embarrassing!), despite the fact that they had all been living under the same canopy all this time. Wynne couldn’t get too upset since this was kind of her fault for making her this way due to her obsessive guardianship, which hindered proper socialization. Mourynn’s Nightbloom-ness was extremely apparent as well, earning her the cheeky little “Wallflower” nickname from the others (primarily Faolain) due to how little she connected with them, and her overall avoidance and quietness (not to mention she was a little weird and off-putting, but no one was going to say that to her face. Except for Faolain, of course).

Mourynn did eventually start to interact with the others more (albeit a bit cautiously). The Pale Tree helped nudge her in the right direction and break the ice. Mourynn could sense something wasn’t quite right about herself and that was influencing her skittishness, but the Pale Tree brought her comfort when Wynne was away (which made it obvious how depressed and lonely this made Mourynn feel, but it was necessary. This also lead to Mourynn spending a lot of time in the Omphalos Chamber).

While she didn’t connect with everyone (as not everyone was there anymore, such as Riannoc being dead before her awakening, and the others that left the Grove during this time whom she only got to briefly meet beforehand), she did finally get to see more of both Caithe and Faolain (the Toxic Throuple stuff will be for another post >:3), and would eventually be tutored by Faolain in fine tuning her Mesmer skills as her nightmarish illusions/hallucinations were getting out of hand and causing havoc as Wynne was away longer and longer, and how her teleportation abuse was becoming a bit of a nuisance as well (and Faolain of course, would love to take this offer to be her mentor. I’ll save this for another post later too).

Aife also became one of the other Firstborn she bonded a bit more with (as Mourynn was meant to be a Dawnbloom initially, so Aife was a bit saddened to see her fellow pod-mate separate from them), but she did offer Mourynn a place of respite whenever she needed somewhere quiet and peaceful (the Garden of Dawn secret area, which also has the waterfalls which Mourynn felt very comfortable in, of which she will discover her affinity for water later as well).

Of course, everything leads to the end where we all know what happens to Wynne in the Point of No Return chapter, but unfortunately Mourynn does not. She won’t find out Wynne’s fate until much later, and will only be left with the ongoing worry and sadness that Wynne left for Dry Top and was never seen again, only leaving her with some uneasy parting words that felt like a potential final goodbye (as Wynne was already aware that Faolain might take things too far, considering how much she was hounding her already, and knew the secret she was carrying was heavy and dangerous). (Also to note, Mourynn isn’t meant to be portrayed as like, a shy quiet uwu softie. She’s not. She’s just a bit avoidant and quiet (and yes shy), but in a more wary/cautious/antisocial-esq kind of way. She has a dry sense of humour, is quite blunt, and is a bit of a menace who talks a bit weird and misunderstands things a lot (because I think it’s hilarious), but is a very good listener and will keep many secrets. She’s trying hard to act normally, but her dragon-brain wiring is also making this very difficult. Also with technically being a parasite (as that’s what Vallotash is), it’s partially in her nature to latch onto someone and be a bit co-dependent (as seen above), even though she contradictorily wants to be completely independent as well, causing a lot of internal conflicts in her mind and emotions)

[striveattemptfail]

maybe it's a little too early (to know if this is gonna work) | Logan Howlett/Wade Wilson, 5.2k, M

@poolverine-week: Day 6 – Sharing Clothes

Summary: Five times Wade steals wears Logan's clothes, and one time Logan wears Wade's suit. Rated for allusions to sex, but nothing explicit. Takes place some time after the movie’s events; assume Logan and Wade are back-up X-Men. Read on Ao3

A/N: Thank you to B @broosepayne for helping out with random details + thank you to @fuckselfloveihatemyself for suggesting "impersonation" for the final scene. Shout out to the Manga Hoes server for listening to me bitch about finishing this fic lol. Un-beta'd and I apologize /o\ Title from You Look Good In My Shirt by Keith Urban—just be grateful I didn't give this fic the exact same name lmaooo

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Nothing / Wearing Wade’s Clothes ]

The first morning he wakes up in Wade’s timeline—his new universe—Logan has on nothing but a t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of highlighter pink Hello Kitty boxers. He desperately needs something to wear aside from what are basically undergarments because he came into this world with nothing but his X-Men suit.

Or what’s left of it anyway.

Which is why, once he finally gets up from the pull-out bed, he sees Wade trying on the jacket that the TVA gave him after they destroyed the Time Ripper. Wade is in front of the only full-size mirror in the apartment, twisting his body every which way to inspect the jacket.

Then, he catches Logan’s reflection in the mirror.

“Morning, peanut!” he greets, turning around to face him with a smile. “I’m trying this on to see how it fits on me.”

“Uh, yeah. I see that,” Logan says with brows furrowed. “Why?”

“I was thinking about grabbing you some clothes but need a reference for your size.”

“Bub, that jacket is too big even for me.”

“...okay, yeah,” Wade eventually concedes, “but it’s the only thing you own that isn’t shredded to pieces from the Time Ripper.”

Unfortunately, the moron has a point. As it is, the boxers Wade loaned him are a bit tight on his waist, and the collar of the shirt is snug on his neck, but it’s not like Logan’s in any position to complain.

“I have to swing by Target to grab supplies for Dogpool anyway,” Wade continues before making kissy faces at the dog in question. “We need to get you some treats, huh, little missy? Yeah! And then we’ll get honey badger some clothes that actually fit him!”

And, well, it’s not like Logan is keen on stepping outside of this apartment in the brightest colour he’s ever worn in his over 200-year existence. It’s also not like he even has the funds to buy himself a hotdog from the street vendor around the corner, much less purchase anything for a new wardrobe. So if Wade wants to go out and buy some clothes for him, Logan isn’t going to stop him.

He grunts his assent as he makes his way to the kitchen, muttering a gruff Fine as he starts on a cup of coffee.

Later, when Wade leaves for Target, Logan grabs the now tossed aside TVA jacket.

If he happens to take a sniff of it once Wade’s out the door (inhaling the scent of cloyingly sweet body wash, hot sauce, and something Logan is fast recognizing as Wade), it’s simply because he wants to know whether it already stinks after yesterday’s events.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: One Load of Staples ]

Luckily for Logan, Peter and Dopinder volunteered to help Wade clothes shop when he went to Target. Apparently, Wade wanted to buy all sorts of brightly coloured cutesy shit—like much of his own clothing, allegedly so the two of them could match—but Peter and Dopinder manage to rein him in and grab a few staples. T-shirts, jeans, sweatpants, boxers, socks, and a pair of shoes that’ll fall apart in about a month if Logan has to guess.

It’s enough for him to survive on until he can buy more clothes, and enough to produce a load of laundry once the day arrives. Luckily, the apartment has a washer-dryer combo in the unit, so he finishes the single, meagre load of clothes he owns in no time. He’s bringing them to the bedroom to put away when he finds Wade already inside, standing there in nothing but the smallest pair of tighty-whities Logan’s ever seen on a man.

“What the fuck,” is all he can say.

“Hey, honey badger!” Wade greets, normal as ever, as if he’s not exposing miles of skin and taut muscle that Logan would love to—

He messily dumps his clothes onto the bed, scowling at Wade.

“Why the fuck are you naked?” he demands.

“Oh, please, I’m hiding all the goods,” Wade brushes him off. He turns back to the heap of clothes on the hamper, presumably to find something that doesn’t smell like wet dog or weeks old nastiness.

Shit. The damn briefs aren’t even large enough to completely cover Wade’s ass, and Logan can see a hint of cheeks peeking through.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Logan rolls his eyes, hoping that his frown hides the conflict inside him.

With a smirk that can only spell trouble, Wade faces him again to thumb at the waistband of his underwear. “Would you rather I take them off?”

Logan snarls, averting his gaze to the small mound of clothes he has to put away. He angrily starts folding things, breath coming out in huffs that he hopes convey annoyance.

“Jeez, who pissed in your coffee this morning, kitty cat?” Wade complains, letting go of the waistband. “It’s not like I’m rubbing one out in front of you.”

“Shut the fuck up, bub,” Logan spits, throwing down another folded shirt.

The problem—like most things—is because of Wade.

It’s hard enough to share any amount of space with him, much less sleep in the same bed together every night, and Logan’s only a man. He might be too proud to admit it out loud (especially to a blabber mouth like Wade), but god fucking damnit somehow the fucker’s gotten under his skin. He makes Logan crave for more than innocently spooning in the early hours of the morning, want more than stolen glances when he thinks Wade isn’t looking.

It doesn’t help that Wade flirts with him constantly. People used to chastise Logan for how aggressively he pursued Jean back in the day. Now, he knows it’s nothing compared to the constant boner Wade has towards anything that speaks to him.

Logan needs to stop this train of thought—thinking about Wade’s boner is only going encourage his own.

“So, why are you naked?” he asks, probably angrier than acceptable for a conversation like this but, fuck, does Wade bring out the asshole in him.

“Technically, I’m not—”

“Fine, almost naked, you annoying prick.”

He looks up to find Wade with narrowed eyes, shooting him a dubious look that can only say, Are you serious?

“Obviooouslyyy,” he drawls out, rifling through the hamper again, “I thought I had more clothes left.”

Logan looks at the mountain Wade’s digging through. “Wait, you’re completely out of clean clothes? How the fuck did that happen?”

“I don’t know!” Wade throws his hands up in exasperation. “Ask the author!”

“I have no idea what that means,” he admits. “Anyway, why are you only in underwear?”

“What? You want me to steal some of Blind Al’s shit?” Wade pauses then, clearly mulling it over. “Actually, now that I think about it, her tracksuits would look great on me. They’d fit like baby clothes on a high schooler but it could be like a Y2K revival. Juicy Couture à la Wade. I’d smell like mothballs and old lady all day but it’d be worth it, I think!” He ends the rambling with a toothy grin.

Logan doesn’t dignify that with a response. He scrubs a hand over his face with a sigh.

“Just... put on some damn clothes, bub.”

“Fine.”

Wade—probably in an attempt to piss him the fuck off, as usual—stares at him with a piercing gaze, maintaining eye contact with Logan as he grabs a white t-shirt from the folded pile and slides it on.

Logan just glares at him, jaw clenching tight.

The worst part is that he’s not even mad that Wade’s grabbing shit that he just folded. For some fucking reason, there’s a small but very loud part of Logan deeply satisfied to see Wade in his clothes again. He hasn’t worn anything of Logan’s since trying on the TVA jacket that first day home, but seeing him in one of Logan’s tees is apparently doing something for him.

Wade spins in place, and Logan notices that the hem of the t-shirt barely covers Wade’s crotch, skims the peak of Wade’s pert ass. Once he faces Logan again, he pinches the sides of the shirt like he’s holding a skirt, dipping into a small curtsy.

“Is that better, oh, prudent majesty?” he taunts.

Logan finally snaps.

Before he’s even conscious of it, he’s striding over to where Wade is still staring at him, his expression turning confused though still playful.

“Woah, big boy, I didn’t think you’d be that pissed—”

Logan grabs his face and cuts him off with a kiss, Wade making a surprised noise against his mouth before finally kissing back. Even though Logan is leading, Wade still gives as good as gets, his tongue darting into the cavern of Logan’s mouth when he gasps for air. He’s not sure how long they suck face for, but when Logan finally pulls away, a satisfied noise rumbles through his chest at Wade’s stunned but amused face.

“Finally got you to shut up,” Logan teases, words coming out shallow and thin.

“Oh, it’ll take a lot more than that, old man,” Wade quips back, and another purr builds in Logan’s chest when he hears the gravel in Wade’s voice. Wade throws his arms over Logan’s shoulders and crashes their lips together again.

Neither of their laundry gets finished for a long while after that, both of them too caught up in seeking pleasure from each other. Most of Logan’s freshly laundered clothes lie wrinkled on the bed for hours until he remembers to put them away. Wade doesn’t even start on his own laundry until Logan tells him that Althea would definitely kick his ass if he wore her stuff.

But he continues wearing Logan’s shirt until his own clothes are finally clean, so Logan can’t complain at all.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Half Complete + A New Suit ]

They’re suiting up for an X-Men mission when Wade snatches the Wolverine cowl before Logan can put it on. He’s still in the middle of zipping up when he spots Wade grabbing it out of the corner of his eye, and he doesn’t even need to turn around to know that the dipshit’s already wearing it.

“Give it back,” he says absentmindedly, buckling in the last straps of his suit.

He turns around and shoots Wade a flat look, correct in his assumption that Wade put it on. Typical Wade, he’s wearing his Deadpool mask underneath the Wolverine cowl.

“How do I look?” Wade asks, voice lilting with anticipation.

He looks like someone threw up primary colours on his head and decided to call it a mask.

“You look like someone threw up primary colours on your head and decided to call it a mask.”

Wade gasps, clearly offended. “Rude!”

Logan rolls his eyes. “Just hand me my fuckin’ cowl, bub.”

“Mmmmm, no.”

He never makes shit easy. Logan can only sigh.

“Wade, we gotta leave for the mission brief,” Logan reminds him. They’re about to leave on time for once, and that never happens. “Gimme my goddamn cowl.”

Wade ignores him, as he often does, sauntering over to Logan with a sway in his hips, and Logan quirks a brow at him. He knows what that walk means, and suddenly heading to the X-Mansion for a mission is becoming the last thing on his mind.

Wade drapes his arms over Logan’s shoulders, and Logan automatically places his hands on Wade’s hips. Even beneath both masks, Logan can tell that Wade is waggling his non-existent eyebrows at him once they’re pressed close together. “Wanna inspect the wind resistance on these blowjob handles yourself, peanut?”

Logan snorts. “No, because I don’t wanna see my own mask sucking my dick.”

“Aww,” Wade whines, and Logan can hear the pout in his voice even if he can’t see it, “you’re no fun!”

“‘Sides,” Logan murmurs in his ear, low and sultry, as he pulls Wade closer, “I like seeing your face when we’re together, bub.”

He moves a hand from Wade’s waist to slightly lift his Deadpool mask at the collar. He then ducks his face into the curve where Wade’s neck meets shoulder, mouthing at the now exposed skin there. He smirks when he feels the catch in Wade’s throat.

“I thought we had to leave for the mission brief?” Wade mocks, but it comes out breathy and very pleased by the turn of events.

Logan hums mischievously, nipping at Wade’s neck. “Don’t give a shit anymore.”

“Cool cool cool,” Wade babbles, body pressing against Logan’s, all hot and eager. “I just—oh, fuck, honey badger—I was just thinking—”

“If yer thinking, then I ain’t doin’ this right,” he grumbles, words starting to slur together because there’s something else he’d much rather be doing with his mouth. The hand he still has on Wade’s waist travels to his crotch. Wade bucks his hips into Logan’s open palm with a husky groan, already half-hard.

“You’re doing everything so, so right,” Wade gasps, hips rutting into his grip. “It’s just—ngh—you better be the one taking off this suit, because I did not spend five whole minutes and half a thing of baby powder squeezing my ass into it just to—oh, shit!—strip it off again.”

With a final lick to his pulse point, Logan pulls away just enough to look at Wade. He smirks at the way Wade is panting, puffs of breath hitting his face in needy bursts despite the fabric covering Wade’s mouth.

“I gotta take off your clothes?” he confirms. Wade nods jerkily. “S’not a problem with me.”

And he drops to his knees, unbuckling Wade’s utility belt to do just that.

They do eventually get to the X-Mansion—just 30 minutes late, and they completely miss the briefing. Colossus looks at both of them in disappointment when he relays the abridged version of the mission objectives while they fly to their destination on the X-Jet. Frankly, Logan only half listens to the giant, completely unapologetic in his lack of focus. Being distracted is well worth it as he mulls over the events of the past hour.

Because Logan discovers that, while he might not get off on seeing his own cowl blowing him, he doesn’t mind when he’s on his knees looking up to see it thrown back in pleasure.

At least as long as Wade’s the one wearing it.

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[ Wardrobe Status: Signature Items Acquired ]

The next time they leave together, it’s to meet Vanessa and Dermot for bowling. Logan’s ready before Wade is, waiting in the living room because apparently how long it takes Wade to decide on an outfit completely depends on how he’s feeling.

Thankfully, today isn’t too awful. He’d only worn the Deadpool mask in the morning because he, quote, “felt like skewered chicken intestines,” and nearly cancelled on bowling altogether. But after an orgasm from Logan and cuddling from Mary Puppins, his mood had turned around.

All of which means that Wade is now in a mad dash pulling an outfit together. Logan knows better than to try and help him or force him to hurry up, so he’s left on the couch quietly grumbling to Mary about how he thinks Wade looks good in basically everything he wears.

He’s proven absolutely right when Wade finally steps out of the bedroom. Logan barely registers the full outfit because he’s completely focused on one item.

“How do I look?” Wade asks with a sly grin, walking over to the mirror to inspect himself. He twirls in front of his reflection while smoothing down the leather of the jacket he’s wearing.

Logan’s jacket.

He’s unable to put words together with the way his brain is currently short-circuiting. He grunts in response anyway, knowing that Wade will keep talking even if he doesn’t reply verbally.

He’s proven right yet again because Wade continues without missing a beat. “You think I should switch styles? Give yours back and get my own? Jackets aren’t really my thing though... Oh! What if I got a cape instead? It’d help for ‘no capes’ AUs to actually shed a cape, huh? Has there ever been a DP with a cape? I don’t remember seeing one when we fought the Corps.”

He hums a contemplative sound as Logan stands up from the couch, making his way over to Wade.

“Maybe I need to test trial this,” he continues to ramble, “maybe I can borrow Cable’s shawl-cape thing!”

Even Logan is surprised when he immediately interrupts Wade’s babbling with a stern: “No.”

Wade’s eyes snap to his, confused by the sudden harshness and increased volume in his tone. He makes a questioning noise and shoots Logan a displeased look.

Remembering that Wade will only ramp up how annoying he is if Logan bosses him around, he shakes his head and tries again. “I mean, just—you can, uh, keep mine.”

He clears his throat, eyes darting away to take in how the jacket fits on Wade. It’s a little loose on him, a little too broad because Logan’s chest is a bit wider than his, but it sits well on his frame nonetheless. After awkwardly patting Wade on the shoulder, Logan’s hand slides to Wade’s bicep, then down to cuff where Logan thumbs at the leather there. His fingers bump Wade’s hand and he feels electrified by the touch.

When their eyes meet again, Logan’s relieved to find Wade’s face as red as his own cheeks feel. He’s not entirely sure who leans in first but their lips meet halfway. The kiss isn’t demanding or dirty, neither of them trying to turn it into something that would lead to sex for once. It’s different from when they usually make out, just soft and lingering, and Wade gasps when Logan’s tongue gently licks at the seam of his lips.

At some point, they wrap their arms around each other, because when they finally part for air Wade’s cupping Logan’s jaw and his hands are on the small of Wade’s back.

He eventually grumbles out, “Keep it, it suits you.”

“Oh.”

It takes a moment for Wade to shake the dazed look off his face, but he recovers by flashing Logan a knowing grin. Logan rolls his eyes fondly.

Of course, the little shit did it on purpose. He should’ve known the moment Wade stepped out with that giant smile.

Afterwards, when they finally meet with Vanessa and Dermot at the bowling alley, Vanessa’s smirk and raised eyebrow are well worth it because Wade keeps the jacket on.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Full Closet ]

Logan’s been gone for almost a month because of an extended X-Men mission. Between stakeouts, recon, strategizing, and actually nabbing the bad guy, it’s the longest he’s been away since Wade and Althea’s apartment became his home.

He walks in and unceremoniously dumps his duffle bag and the rest of shit by his shoes, throwing his keys on the sidetable by the door. Despite it being well into the afternoon, the apartment is surprisingly quiet. He figures Althea is out for “bingo” (likely a coke exchange) but Wade and Mary Puppins’ lack of noise makes him suspicious.

Until he hears the snoring.

He pads over to the pull-out bed to find Wade and Mary napping together. Wade’s curled around her, snoring with his face buried in her very sparse amount of fur, and Mary’s tongue sticks out as she huffs out quiet, little snuffles of her own.

But what catches Logan’s attention is Wade wearing one of his flannels.

It’s one of the thickest he owns, made for colder weather and blistery autumn breezes, a dusty yellow and blue with snap buttons. It’s large on him—like everything else Logan owns whenever Wade wears his clothes—but this particular flannel is loose on Logan, so the fabric almost drowns Wade in a pattern of faded checks.

And like every time the moron steals his crap to wear, Logan’s stomach flips in a way he can no longer ignore.

He’s not sure if they’re exclusive or not. They fall into bed together as easily as they fight side-by-side on missions. But it’s impossible for Logan to tell if Wade is serious about half the flirtations streaming out of his mouth when the idiot’s easy affection gets directed at anyone that looks at him twice.

And as much as he’s loathe to admit it, Logan wants so much more than that. He wants Wade’s lingering looks to mean something other than platonic nothings. He wants the softer kisses they share to be more than a break from sex. He wants Wade to need him the way Logan needs him. Hell, he wants Wade to annoy him in ways that Wade would never bother anyone else, because at least then Logan would know that he means something different to the motherfucker, something more than a roommate he hooks up with.

He wants just Wade, all of him, full stop.

He gingerly sits on the mattress, trying not to jostle the two napping Deadpools too much with his weight, and he reaches over to gently stroke Wade’s cheek with a thumb. Feeling emboldened when Wade doesn’t stir, he leans down to press his lips onto Wade’s forehead.

“Well, g’morning to y’too, honey badger,” Wade slurs at him, voice thick with sleep.

Logan abruptly jerks away, eyes wide, and the movement is enough to jostle Mary Puppins from her slumber. She hops off to nap in her own bed after a grumpy growl, leaving Wade alone on the mattress. He attempts to swallow the sudden lump in his throat before clearing it with a cough.

“S’four in the afternoon,” Logan mumbles. Pinching his lips into a flat line, he awkwardly sits next to Wade rustling around in the sheets. His eyes catch the flannel falling open to reveal that Wade is also wearing one of his tank tops.

Logan takes a deep, stuttering breath.

Eyes still closed, Wade blindly flaps his hand around until finding purchase on Logan’s shirt. He tugs Logan back down, and Logan curls over to kiss him softly.

“Welcome home, peanut,” Wade breathes onto his lips. “Missed you.”

He touches his nose to Wade’s. “Missed ya too, bub.”

Wade’s face splits into a slow, easy grin, pulling Logan into laying down. Logan follows him without a thought, gathering Wade into his arms.

“You’re wearin’ my clothes again,” he whispers.

Wade hums, nuzzling into his chest. “S’cold, and it smells like you.”

A pleased purr escapes Logan before he has a chance to stop it, and Wade giggles at him, kissing his collarbone before falling right back to sleep.

They don’t talk about what they are after that, but it’s at that moment when Logan finally realizes that maybe, somehow, Wade feels the same way about him too.

❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛❤️💛

[ Wardrobe Status: Wearing Wade’s Clothes (Again) ]

The TVA brings them in because they need help with some lady going after Deadpool variants. It would be a fruitless endeavour since Deadpools can’t die (well, except Nicepool) if it weren’t for the fact that the fucker apparently stole a weapon that disintegrates things to oblivion.

“Shouldn’t the law of physics stop that from happening?” Wade asks, gesturing at the screen when B-15 presents the mission to them. “‘Matter can’t be created or destroyed’ or something like that?”

“That’s energy, idiot,” Logan corrects him.

Wade just shrugs. “Hey, don’t blame me for failing physics twice!”

He turns to Wade with a confused grimace. “Who else would I blame then?”

“The teachers, duh!”

“Anyway,” B-15 interrupts, hitting a button to show another slide, “this variant’s got a fascination for destroying the indestructible, but she’s going after Deadpools because she has tritanopia, or blue-yellow colour blindness. She can see shades of red the easiest, hence, sticking with Deadpools as her target.”

“That’s so stupid,” Wade says and Logan can only agree. “There are, like, dozens immortal superheroes in red and she chooses li’l ole me? Seems like the writer copping out of coming up with a better plot, I-M-O.”

“We also believe Mary was double-crossed by the Deadpool in her timeline, giving further motive to go after his variants.”

“Hmph! Now isn’t that just convenient?” He crosses his arms. “Wait, ‘Mary’?”

“Yes.” B-15 shows another slide, this one a close-up of the woman—Mary’s—face. “She’s a Typhoid Mary variant. Have either of you encountered her before?”

“Not in my world,” Logan answers.

“I admittedly did not keep up with Netflix’s Daredevil long enough to meet Bloody Mary, no,” Wade says.

B-15 presents them with further details: Typhoid Mary’s known abilities and weaknesses; how she has dissociative identity disorder on top of her colour blindness; how she managed to acquire the worst weapon available from the arms dealers she was supposed to take down; how her alter apparently took over and decided to go after invincible mutants until she finally got even with her world’s Deadpool. The TVA did try to intervene, but she ended up killing every agent that went after her before stealing one of their TemPads and consequently going on her multiversal manhunt. B-15 makes it absolutely clear how imperative it is that they do not kill Mary or destroy the weapon so the TVA can keep them both under tabs.

Then, she reveals the TVA’s plan to capture her: They want Logan to pose as a Deadpool variant in the timeline they believe she’s going to strike next. Typhoid Mary’s current M.O. doesn’t account for superstrength so he should be able to break out of anything she traps him in. Meanwhile, Wade will be in the shadows, using a tranquillizer gun to incapacitate her once she’s busy with Logan.

Logan groans internally while Wade claps his hands in delight.

“Ooh!” he practically squeals, patting Logan on the shoulder with unrestrained excitement. “Finally, it’s my turn on the other side of this trope!”

B-15 shakes her head and sends them on their way.

The suit the TVA provides him fits perfectly, and he notes Wade’s heated, lingering gaze on him once he steps out of the dressing room. Luckily, another agent gets them through a portal before Wade starts on a tirade that would no doubt be filled with inappropriate innuendoes about Logan.

The mission is executed almost laughably easy. Typhoid Mary’s telekinetic and telepathic abilities are so low-level Logan’s shocked that the others she went after were able to be taken down so quickly.

(“Plot armour, peanut,” Wade said when Logan had asked B-15 about this. “She needed to last long enough to meet us!” As usual, Logan had chosen to ignore him.)

Like the TVA discovered, she lures Deadpools by spreading rumours he can’t ignore, adding a honeypot stash filled with weapons he loves. Geared up in Wade’s suit, Logan “falls” for her trap: entering an abandoned warehouse meant to shelter an upcoming gang targeting Deadpool, but secretly only houses her. Once Logan finds the crate of weapons meant to entice Wade, Typhoid Mary wastes no time in capturing him. She points a giant ray-gun of sorts at his face after wrapping him in the warehouse’s chains with her telekinesis.

He feels the faintest compulsion to stay still, which is probably her telepathy trying to subdue him. But she’s nowhere near the level of other telepaths Logan’s encountered, like Jean or Cassandra Nova, and the compulsion is easy to ignore. The chains are slightly harder to deal with in comparison, but he’s certain he can get out of them without too much trouble. Out of the corner of his eye, he catches Wade moving into place.

During Logan’s silent assessment of the situation, Typhoid Mary apparently began monologuing. He doesn’t let her get a chance to finish though, breaking out of the bonds around his torso with sheer force and grunting at the exertion. He slices the chains around his ankles with his claws, the metal cutting like butter against the adamantium.

“What?!” she screams. “A Wolverine-Deadpool variant? How?!”

Logan doesn’t even open his mouth for a reply because Wade shoots a tranq dart in her neck. She falls to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

“Wooh! No scope oneshot K/O, baby!” he hollers, skipping over to pick up the weapon Typhoid Mary dropped. “God, I’d love to take this home with us,” he bemoans as he assesses it, “I can finally stick it to Cable and show off my own badass, futuristic gun!”

“That won’t be necessary,” B-15 announces, suddenly next to them. A group of armed TVA agents begin to file in from the portal behind her, a few of them attempting to grab the weapon from Wade while others lift Typhoid Mary away for custody.

The aftermath of the mission would be just as easy if isn’t for Wade bitching about giving up the gun. After B-15 debriefs them, she and Logan spend entirely too long demanding that Wade hand it to her.

“I’ll give it back if we can keep this suit for pookie here,” Wade eventually offers, pointing at Logan.

“What?” Logan asks. The suit’s not bad but he has no reason to wear it again once he takes it off. “Why—?”

“Deal,” B-15 immediately agrees.

Wade begrudgingly relinquishes the gun, giving it a flying kiss goodbye before taking Logan’s hand. B-15 opens a portal to their apartment and guides them through. “Thanks for the help, gentlemen!” she says, waving a hand at them. They both wave back, and the portal closes.

Logan looks down at the Deadpool suit he’s still wearing. “Why the hell did you want—mmph!”

His lips are suddenly bombarded with hot kisses, and he growls when Wade opens his mouth his tongue. He didn’t even notice that Wade took off his mask.

“God, you look so fucking good in my colours,” Wade moans, hands roaming all over Logan’s body. “Is this how you feel whenever I wear your things?” Logan makes a noise of assent, too busy mouthing at Wade’s jaw to give a proper answer. “Fuck, that’s hot.”

Logan starts moving them towards the bed—Christ, he hopes Althea is gone because there’s no way he’s stopping what Wade’s started. His cock is already taking interest, and only gets harder when Logan bumps his hips into Wade’s. They tumble onto the pull-out in a feverish heat with Logan straddling Wade’s thighs.

He’s licking at Wade’s pulse when the dumbass gasps, “Oh my god, I’m gonna fuck a variant of myself.”

Used to Wade’s non-stop yammering even during sex, Logan mindlessly replies, “‘S still me, bub, I ain’t a variant of you.” Foolishly, he adds, “Besides, that’d be weird.”

“What? Why?”

With Wade groping his ass, Logan actually has to pause getting his hands under Wade’s suit to think about an answer.

He finally lands on: “It’d be like fucking your own clone.”

Wade actually stops everything he’s doing—hands no longer kneading his cheeks, mouth pulling away from him. Logan groans, knowing his brought this on himself, and dips his forehead to rest on Wade’s shoulder.

“What? You wouldn’t?”

“No, because that’s weird.”

“I’d fuck my clone.”

“Course you would.”

“T-B-H, I’m so pro-clone fucking I’d just have an orgy with all of them. Who’d be better to fuck me than me, right?”

This, by far, is one of—if not the—stupidest conversation Logan’s ever had with a person. Somehow, his dick doesn’t flag, and he’s still irrevocably fond of Wade’s random chatter. He kisses Wade before he can start on another tangent, cupping his perfect idiot’s face softly.

“Shut the fuck up,” he says, but knowing the smile he’s got on, Wade isn’t going to listen to him.

Wade’s answering smirk is a challenge. “Make me, peanut.”

——————————————

(More notes on Ao3.)

[princessniquane]

HIM (Yunho's POV)

Yunho/reader

Tags: librarian!Yunho, pining, bad flirting, mention of stalker!Seonghwa, supportive friend Mingi, a bit of angst

There she is again

“Gosh she’s so pretty,” Yunho says as he watches you walk inside the library. 

“Why don’t you ask them out?” Mingi suggests.

“I can’t,” he says.

“Why not?”

“I don’t know. What if I’m not their type?”

Mingi laughs at his best friend. “Are you crazy! Of course you’re their type! You’re everybody’s type Yunho! Come on man.”

Yunho sighs. Grabbing the overdue books and taking them to the back. He contemplates on how he should ask them out. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous to ask you out but he is.

He knows how kind and caring you are from the little interactions you both had. He goes to your coffee shop every morning for breakfast and he knows you volunteer from one of his friends, who also volunteers at the same hospital.

He can’t really describe it, but he just likes you and wants to get to know you. He doesn’t want to be weird about it, but he’s also freaking out! He’s never felt like this before, always so confident in making friends. Is it because he wants to be more than just friends? 

He pouts. As he goes outside to get some fresh air, he sees you outside helping someone who is rubbing their nose. Yea he must have hit his nose on the glass door, he wouldn’t be the first or last person to do it. Actually it was Yunho himself that was the first to hit their nose on the shiny glass door of the library.

Just thinking about it makes him rub his nose at the memory. Yunho looks at the guy’s face and gives him a knowing but sympathetic smile as he walks in, face all red. Yunho turns to walk outside to you but you’re already gone. Damnit, next time.

It’s been a few weeks since you last came into the library and Yunho was getting antsy. Yes of course he still saw you in the morning but you’re always swamped with customers. He didn’t want to make you uncomfortable or pressured to answer him when you weren’t really thinking about it.

He would never do that to you. People who do that should be ashamed of themselves to do that to another person. Yunho wants to be a gentleman and give you a chance to well, think about it and give him a chance.

His best friend, Mingi, has been really there for him when he feels like just giving up. He’s seen you come in one time but he couldn’t get a chance to talk with you and that just put him in an even sulkier mood. 

One morning, Yunho wakes up late and couldn’t get breakfast or, most importantly, see your face. It was just a terrible feeling but Yunho just sucked it up and put a smile on his face. Once it’s time for a break, he gets a surprise. Not from his best friend Mingi nor his other friends but you.

You smile that beautiful smile at him and it just takes away the horrible morning he had away. His day is so much better, even more so, you brought him lunch.

“Um hi Yunho. I didn’t see you during the morning rush and wondered if you had any time to eat. Sorry if this is weird, I just.”

“Oh no no! Not weird at all! I really appreciate this. I haven’t eaten this morning so, thank you, you’re an angel for this. I mean not that you’re not always angel I just mean…..thank you,” he smiles looking away and rubbing the back of his head.

You chuckle quietly. “Cute.”

“What?” He asks shocked.

“Um…I-It’s nothing sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Thank you again for this I um….ok so….I’ve been meaning to tell you, well ask you for weeks but would you like to go on a date with me?”

“Oh um…”

“This is not because you brought me food, I’m very grateful for it but, I always wanted to ask you out but I wasn’t sure….if you would say yes.”

“Yes.”

“Like it’s totally fine if you say- wait what?”

“I said yes. I would like to go on a date with you,” you smile up at him.

Yunho can’t believe it. His eyes widen in excitement before his brain can comprehend what is happening. While Yunho gapes at you, you grab a piece of paper and write your name and phone number, handing it to him. He takes it and does the same giving you his number. 

“I’ll be waiting for you call,” you say to him and leave the library. He just nods his head in disbelief. Yunho looks around him because he can’t believe he just asked you out, finally.

He laughs and starts to go to the office to tell Mingi but something catches his eye. It was the same guy from before but he’s….glaring at Yunho. If looks could kill, Yunho would be in a pool of his own blood right now. A shiver goes down his spine but he ignores it and goes tell Mingi the good news.

A/N: Might make this a lil series idk, let me knwo if yall want more, likes and reblogs are appreciated!

Part 1

[holyparadisenightmare]

I'll be honest. I had no ulterior motive. I just wanted to get bigger. To feel my body slowly grow, getting heavier and heavier every day. Here's my picture before this all started, just so you can see where i began.

I'd say I was pretty average. Most girls might have looked at a body like mine and wished they were smaller. But god, not me. Not at all. I wanted to feel every part of me grow.

So i joined this student IVF study at my university. They were looking for volunteers who were willing to be implanted in different ways, and the researchers would watch how your body reacts.

Needless to say, I was first in line. Didn't expect much to happen. But it wasn't long before i saw big results.

I blew up fast. 1 month in, and my belly was already hard to hide. My shirt was always riding, and every time I felt its tightness against my belly, I got more turned on that i'd ever been before. Sometimes, I would leave it. See how high it would ride up. See how long it took for someone to say something.

During a regular check-up, I was seen to by a very beautiful woman, Dr Wells. She was tall, with a slender build and legs that seemed to go on for days. Before any words were shared, she approached me and pulled my shirt down. Her nails ran softly against my bulbous belly. It took everything I had not to fall to my knees and beg her to fill me more.

Every day became an adventure in seeing how far I would go. Less clothes, tighter clothes, bigger belly.

By the time I was a 4 months in, I had stopped trying. Shirts weren't for bellies. They were for tits. These days, that's all they covered.

Once more, I ran into that beautiful woman. Stumbling into each other at a cafe, she was shocked at how big I had gotten so fast. She invited me to sit beside her. I sank comfortably into the leather sofa seat while she sat along the arm.

As we spoke, we got to know each other better. She explained how her parents owned the cafe and she came in to help. Normal things: life, lost love, and how important it is to take an opportunity when you see it.

I enthusiastically agreed, explaining the story behind my belly, the study, and how there was no one else involved. I blushed when I said how much I liked growing and how I wanted to be as big as possible.

It quickly became obvious that she was not here for friendly banter, and as her fingernails once again traced the edge of my bloated belly, her intentions became clear. What do you say in that situation? All she wanted was me.

With the clap of her hands, she demanded everyone but us leave the store. A few disgruntled patrons shuffled their way out before she locked the door and drew the blinds.

"How big would you like to be?"

3 month later, I was bigger than I could ever believe. As a high-ranking researcher, she found a way to implant more babies into me. What's more, our relationship became more personal, and our checkups were conducted in my home.

She would watch me squirm as the babies grew, stretching me out as far as I could go. The feeling of my belly sitting softly on the bed between my legs was so new, so extatic, so electrifying, i never wanted to stand again. But when I was forced to my feet, my waddle made me wet.

I was lucky that she was happy to oblige. As I grew larger, it became harder and harder to please myself. One day, Dr. Wells came over and I moaned about my issues. Quickly she left, returning with her collection of toys.

I bent over, ready for her. Slowly, she introduced me to them. One at a time. I laid, heavy and burdensome, as she treated me to pleasure I could only imagine. I hadn't had sex since before the study, and I now could feel how heavy I was.

"You look so big, baby," she teased. "You've just given yourself over to it. Not every girl can get this big for me."

I struggled to think clearly through her words.

"Your tits too. Like massive udders, full of milk. My little pregnant cow."

My arms started to jiggle. After turning myself around I watched as she fucked me, pleasure filling her eyes as she watched me writh.

"That's my girl. When this is over, I'm going to fill you up again. We'll make you even bigger. The fattest pregnant cow anyone's ever seen. Everyone will stare as you walk down the street, your belly heavy with my babies."

I came hard against her toy, grabbing my huge belly. I saw the pleasure in her eyes as she saw it in mine, demanding she not stop.

I sank into my bed. I'd never felt heavier than in that moment, my body weak and my belly huge. Slowly, she helped me to my feet.

Eventually, I did give birth. Dr. Wells helped me through all of it. My body isn't the same as it used to be, and it probably won't ever be the same again. My tits are huge, and my belly sags. But I dont mind. My body is stretched out and ready to get even bigger next time.

[sondheim-girly]

Sorry if this has been asked but do you have any cherrycola headcanons?

ok you have asked this before but I just couldn’t think of anything but I FINALLY THOUGHT OF STUFF SO IM ACTUALLY GONNA ANSWER THIS AFTER LIKE TWO MONTHS

-firm believer in them having childhood crushes on each other

-but that’s like… well established fanon

-but how do they reconnect is the question

-a few months after canon Cherry’s car breaks down while in the east side driving home from volunteering at the hospital, so she goes to the dx

-that’s how they first reconnect- they end up talking for a really long time while Steve fixes the car

-then coincidentally a week later her and Marcia are in the area and need more gas so they go again, and Cherry talks to soda some more and he works up the courage to ask for her number

-she’s really hesitant cuz she’s very much not ready for a new relationship so soda clarifies that it’s “as friends”

-and she’s like, ok :)

-they start talking on the phone a lot, and she starts ‘coincidentally’ coming around the dx a ton

-soda immediately has a resurgence of his huuuuge crush on her and is yapping about it to two bit constantly

-meanwhile Cherry tries to kinda avoid her feelings for a little bit, but eventually she realizes that she can’t anymore

-u know that one post where this person is saying how when they have a crush they’re like a detective pacing around at 3am trying to solve a murder? That’s Cherry

-meanwhile sodas out here giggling and kicking his feet over her

-Marcia realizes something is up with Cherry, and is like “ok girl u gotta tell me everything”

-Cherry finally admits that she has a crush on soda, but insists that she’s not ready for a relationship so she wants them to stay as just friends

-marbit are the ultimate cherrycola shippers omg

-eventually cherrys like oh fuck I can’t take this anymore I really really like soda what do I do

-and Marcia’s like… uhhh just flirt with him? Make it clear u want him to ask you out?

-and Cherry actually has no clue how to flirt due to the fact that Bob (and Chet) were both wrapped around her little finger since day one

-so she’s like soooo awkward

-and soda is used to girls flirting with him, right? But not girls he actually likes. So when Cherry flirts with him my man is an absolute mess

-I headcanon all the Curtis brothers to be the worst blushers on earth like when they blush their entire face goes bright red it’s terrible

-anyways sodas really hesitant to ask her out cuz he knows about her… failed relationships

-anyways eventually two bit convinces him to, and he does, and Cherry is over the moon!!

-they’re sooooo cute tho I’m sick

[niall-hcran]

I could wait until the time spring rolls around, but who knows what my schedule will look like then. I may not have the time, so I might as well do it while I can. I’m definitely nowhere near the level of Hoarders knocking on my door and barging into my place. Just a few closets and maybe a couple drawers and cabinets in the kitchen could use some clearing out. Pretty sure that’s about accurate for just about everyone though. Would you end up in tears if she judged you harshly? Because probably same. I have had a few volunteers, actually. Care to be another one of them?

that's a valid defence. and i guess it's better to do it late, than never. would hate for you to end up on an episode of world's worst hoarders. i'm sure there's a reason behind it. personally, i don't get it. it's spring, man. get out and enjoy the sun, who wants to spend that time tidying !? she sure would. i don't know if i'd survive being judged by marie kondo, to be honest. and has that worked for you ? have you had any volunteers ?

[blvcklizard]

Given that Servamp is almost over I doubt it'll happen, but I'd sort of like to learn more about subclasses. Like, apart from the Melancholies, Lily's and the few "major" character subclasses we barely saw how each Servamp treats theirs and how they feel about it. Kuro had the right idea ngl-

Like, imagine you die and get revived as greed subclass, and now you're stuck with cleaning up the mess of a chaotic overly emotional 18-year-old for the rest of your basically never ending life. The fact that they have costumes implies that they've been keeping up with the shit he does. Guil, okay, he's been his caretaker since they were humans and pretty much volunteered to watch over him, but what about the others. Were they just like "okay this is my life now I guess"

[autistic-katara]

are u even queer if u havent pounced on an opportunity to get beat up by ur crush?

[louisaland]

Just a little ( well, quite big, really!) piece I wrote as I wanted more to this episode.

Missing Scenes from Sophomore Jinx

Just after Maureen sneaks down to help with dinner prep

« Lizzie, honey, can you go get Maureen for dinner, please? » Elliot asked his youngest child, as Kathy began dishing up the steak and fries they were having.

« I can do it, Dad! », Kathleen volunteered, as Lizzie scampered upstairs.

« Sweetheart, if I wanted to call Maureen down by standing at the bottom of the stairs, I’d do it myself. » Elliot replied, musing that Lizzie was the only member of the family that Maureen was currently speaking to and therefore the one with the highest chance of getting her to come down for dinner.

« Come on, Maureen, it’s steak and fries! If you don’t hurry Daddy will steal your fries! » Lizzie pleaded, knowing full well that Maureen always complained when their dad did that.

« OK, fine, I’m coming » Maureen grumbled.

« How about you sit next to Daddy for meals now? » Maureen suggested as they made their way downstairs to the kitchen, knowing that her place at the table was sought after, nay, coveted, by all her siblings, and when she agreed to swap with them, it was a big deal. 

« Yeah, Mo! Thank you! But does that mean you don’t love Daddy anymore? «  Lizzie questioned, eyes wide with surprise at her good fortune, but her tone was worried, as the tension between her big sister and their father was palpable.

«  He’s just being a total douch… uh, dope! » she corrected herself, not wanting to get in even more trouble for using «  bad language » in front of her younger siblings. And was it really bad language is it was the truth, she mused.

When she and Lizzie reached the table, Maureen grabbed her plate and  her sister’s, swapping them around before either of her parents could scold her. She banged her plate down loudly and proceeded to keep her eyes on it as much as possible throughout the meal. 

« Lizzie, please ask the man sitting next to you for the salt » she asked, stabbing her fork into her steak as if she were trying to kill the cow it came from. 

« Maureen… » Elliot began, before falling back into silence as Kathy reached over and put her hand on his arm, shooting him a look.

« Here, honey » he continued, handing the salt cellar to the daughter sitting next to him.

« Thank you, Daddy », she replied, before handing it to her eldest sibling.

Dickie and Kathleen glanced at each other, both equally  as uncomfortable with the unusual quietness that had descended upon mealtimes a few days ago.

As soon as Maureen had finished her bowl of chocolate mousse, she got up from the table with her glass, bowl and spoon, pulled open the dishwasher violently, slammed everything in so it clattered loudly against all the other utensils and plates that were in there. She then pushed the door shut with a crash, and stomped all the way upstairs.

There were a few seconds of respite, before her bedroom door banged shut loudly. 

Elliot sighed and met his wife’s gaze again. He knew he’d come down too hard on his daughter, but backing down now would just give her free rein to do whatever she wanted and get into who-knows-what kind of trouble. If only he’d taken 5 minutes to talk to her when he’d caught her sneaking out… 

Later that evening

« I’ll take the other three to school tomorrow, El. Maybe if you’re in an enclosed space together you’ll be able to talk to Maureen » Kathy said, rubbing cream into her hands.

« OK, I’ll try anything at this point, baby. Am I really so much of an ogre that she can’t talk to me? » Elliot sighed, slumping down on their bed.

« Elliot, honey, you’re a cop and she’s a teenager who is growing up and pushing you off the pedestal she’s had you on. You’re not an ogre, but she’s extremely stubborn… Can’t think who she gets that from » Kathy responded, trying to reassure her worried husband.

« Hmm, yeah, me neither, only 3 out of 4 of our kids are… » Elliot mused.

The next morning.

« Maureen! Breakfast! Now! » Kathleen yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

About 30 seconds later, Maureen stomped down the stairs, flung her school bag into the hallway next to the coat and shoe closet and entered the kitchen.

She grabbed her glass from the table, made her way to the fridge to pour herself a glass of juice, which she downed, before putting her glass in the sink. She also took out a yoghurt, which she placed on the table before sitting in what used to be Lizzie’s seat. She grabbed a banana and glowered at the other 5 people who were also eating their breakfast.

« OK, Kathleen, Dickie and Lizzie, we’re going in 10 minutes. That means teeth and hair brushed, coats and shoes on and bags and lunches properly packed, ready to go, alright? » Kathy declared.

A chorus of agreement from the children she had addressed echoed around the table.

« Wait a minute, Mom! What about me? » Maureen exclaimed, mouth and eyes opening widely.

« I have an errand to run after dropping your siblings off at school, so your dad’s taking you » Kathy explained.

Maureen’s eyes narrowed, her free hand formed a fist and she banged it on the table.

« Mom! No! You can take me too, or I can get the subway. I’d rather walk! » she said, frowning deeply and a look that could kill in her eyes.

« Maureen, the high school is in completely the opposite direction to school and the bank, but it’s on the way to the precinct. Your dad’s taking you and that’s the end of this discussion » Kathy replied, trying her best to keep her tone calm and even.

« Fine! » Maureen humphed, shooting daggers with her glare at her mother.Several minutes later, Maureen tidied up after herself, then made her way upstairs to clean her teeth and check her hair and makeup.

When she came back down, she called out « I’m ready! », grabbed the car keys off the hook in the hallway that was marked with a D, picked up her bag and went to sit in the passenger seat of her dad’s car. She would normally have tossed the keys to her dad, and they would have made their way outside together. 

Once she’d got her seatbelt on, her father emerged from the house, holding his briefcase, sunglasses on his nose and house keys in his other hand.

He deftly locked the front door and got into the driver’s seat. As he put on his seatbelt, he glanced at his daughter.

She swiftly turned her head, finding the view out of her window suddenly fascinating.

This would normally be a special father-daughter moment, with Maureen choosing the music and them either both singing along (well, more Maureen teaching him the lyrics, occasionally letting out a « Daddy! Those aren’t the right words! » if it was a song currently in the charts. Or they would just chat, usually teasing each other affectionately. 

The radio remained untouched, and the silence between them was deafening. 

The journey to Maureen’s school seemed to take an eternity, though all the lights were green, which put paid to his plan to try to initiate conversation when the car was not in motion.

When they pulled up to school and she got out of the car without even saying goodbye or even looking at him, Elliot decided he had to take action.

« Maureen! Wait a minute! » he called out.

She stopped in her tracks and looked at him, annoyance written across her face and the look in her eyes as cold and hard as ice.

At the precinct

« Yeah, we’re OK now, baby. I think we covered all the bases of a reconciliation as she said sorry, I told her I loved her, we hugged and had a proper goodbye, so I call that a success. Kathleen has swimming tonight, right? And Dickie’s been really keen to go to that indoor play area with the climbing wall and ball pit. I know I said I’d take him at the weekend, but could you take him and Lizzie there? I’ve missed hanging out with Maureen, I think we could do with a bit of uninterrupted bonding time… We can pick up dinner if we head out somewhere, if that helps? » Elliot said, well aware that this was a big but necessary ask.

« Yeah, sure, El. Lizzie’s got a playdate, so that’s perfect. Maybe Dickie will actually burn off some of his energy and we’ll have a quiet dinner, hmm? » his wife replied.

« Well, miracles can happen! See you at 6 at home, then? And thanks, baby! » Elliot answered, looking forward to having some quality time with his eldest child.

 They exchanged I love yous and hung up.

Outside Maureen’s high school 

The final bell of the day rang out, and, seconds later, a tsunami of chattering students spilled out of the building, flooding the steps and the area in front of the entrance. Elliot stood a little taller next to his car, seeking out his daughter’s golden hair and bright, tinkling laugh. She emerged, arm-in-arm with her two best friends, Hannah and Sophie. They were giggling about something. Hannah looked over in his direction, nudged his daughter, pointed to where he was standing and asked her something. Her face clouded with worry, wiping the smile from her face and dulling the joyous sparkle in her eyes. She exchanged a few words and quick hugs with her friends before dashing over to him.

« Daddy! Hi! Is everyone OK? » she gasped, slightly winded from her sprint.

« Yeah, everyone and everything are fine, honey. I didn’t mean to scare you, sorry. » Elliot explained, gently placing his hands on her shoulders. She squeezed him around his middle and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He smoothed her hair and cupped her face with his hands, just like he had that morning.

« Everyone else is out until dinner time, so how about we do something together? We could even go to the mall if you want! » he told his daughter.

« But Daddy, you hate the mall! You call it a bottomless money pit! And anyway, it’s a school night and I have a ton of homework, so can we just go home, please? » Maureen replied, flashing her father a happy smile.

« As you wish », Elliot declared, opening the passenger side door for his daughter.

She grinned at the quote from one of her favourite movies and got into the vehicle.

Elliot got into the driver’s side and they headed home.

At the Stabler residence.

« Thanks Dad! » Maureen said, as Elliot handed her a plate of apple slices spread with peanut butter and a handful of crackers. She placed the dish next to her glass of chocolate milk and returned her attention to her Latin homework.

Her father finished preparing his coffee and came to sit at the table opposite his daughter and her gigantic pile of books, papers and pens. She certainly hadn’t lied when she’d told him she had a lot of homework, but then again, she was the one who had pushed to be able to take as many AP classes as she could. 

« Ugh! Why did I choose to take Latin as well as French and Spanish? All the languages are getting mixed up in my brain! » she muttered, mostly to herself. 

« Want some help, honey? » Elliot asked, frowning slightly at his daughter who put so much unnecessary pressure on herself to do everything perfectly and for whom a B+ was a disappointing grade. That was all Kathy, she had definitely been the better student between the two of them. If only she could transfer some of it to Kathleen, who was content to do the bare minimum and just scrape a C.

Maureen nodded and handed him her Latin flashcards.

« OK, the verb to love in the present tense. You’ve got this, sweetheart » he said, gently encouraging his daughter. 

Maureen took a deep breath, then looked at him blankly.

She shook her head in despair. 

« Want a clue? » Elliot offered.

« Yeah, thanks » Maureen replied.

« Who are you? » he asked.

« If I am an El, you are a… »

« Amo, right? » Maureen giggled in spite of herself.

She thought for a second, recalling the verb that she had committed to memory perfectly days before.

« Then it’s amas, amat… » she continued, making the shape of a church with her fingers for the first one and pointing at the rug in the hallway for the second.

She finished conjugating the verb perfectly then moved on to her Spanish vocabulary.

She teasingly corrected Elliot’s terrible accent, which was completely justified, in his opinion.

Once she had finished, she read through her English essay. It was only a second  rough draft, and it wasn’t due for another couple of weeks, but she wanted to get it underway.

Once she was satisfied with her work, she neatly put all her things away in her bag, which she placed in the hallway.

Then she turned her attention to the kitchen counter and her father, who had started preparing dinner. Elliot silently handed her a red bell pepper with a smile, and she busied herself finding a chopping board and a knife before joining him in the cutting up of vegetables for the pasta sauce they were going to be eating.

They chatted aimiably, Maureen giving him some of the gossip from school, how the football team were doing, explaining why she never wanted to be a cheerleader, that she wanted to do more actual writing for the newspaper, as how was she ever going to be a journalist if she never got any writing experience? 

Suddenly, the doorbell rang. 

« Keep an eye on the pasta, please, Mo? » Elliot asked, as he made his way to the front door. 

If he were a betting man, he would put money on it being his second eldest daughter, who was seemingly trying to not only beat the Olympic record for her butterfly, but also for the number of times house keys were forgotten.

He checked the peep-hole, his suspicions confirmed and opened the door to Kathleen. Mrs Simmons, her friend Ashley’s mom, honked her horn and waved at him from her car, before driving off.

« Kathleen! You know the point of having house keys is that you take them with you, right? » he remonstrated.

She dumped her backpack and her sports bag in the middle of the hall and sighed dramatically.

« Sorry, Daddy, I’ll remember them tomorrow, I promise! » she replied, turning as if to go upstairs.

« Uh-huh, that’s what you told me twice last week and yesterday, honey? One of these days, you’re gonna come home and no-one will be in. What are you gonna do if you don’t have your keys, huh? » he reproached her. 

«  Go to the neighbours’, stay with Ashley and her mom til someone comes home, go see if Mom’s taken Dickie and Lizzie to the park… Or yeah, I could just remember my keys! » she declared, taking note on the disapproving look on her father’s face.

He ceremoniously handed her the keys hanging on the hook marked with a K, jangling the big metal K, the Jets logo and a chunk of moonstone on a chain that were attached to the keychain.

As she rose after crouching down to put the offending item in her school bag, 

Elliot cupped her face gently.

« Let’s try this again, OK? » , he announced.

« Hi, honey », he continued, before kissing her forehead.

« Hi Daddy », she replied, before launching into a recap of her swimming training where the coach had praised her improved technique in butterfly, which she had practised on Saturday morning when they had gone to the pool for their one-on-one Daddy-daughter quality time. 

Elliot grinned at her, gave her a thumbs up and a high-five, before sending her upstairs to shower ( and hopefully put her swimming stuff away, but that was almost certainly wishful thinking on his part).

He returned to the kitchen and resumed his culinary tasks.

Maureen had set the table, and everything was on the stove, where it could be kept warm until everyone was back and ready to eat.

Kathleen arrived from upstairs, hair damp and wearing her checked blue pyjamas. 

She curled up on the couch, and as she picked up the remote, Elliot asked her if her homework was done. She replied in the negative, whining that  all she had to do was reading for tomorrow.

« Well then, Kathleen, I think you can guess what your options are? »  he replied.

He could practically hear his daughter’s eye-roll from across the room. 

«  Ugh, yeah, do the reading or help with dinner. Fine, I’ll do the reading! » she declared, making a big show of getting up and retrieving the novel from her backpack. She theatrically collapsed into the couch and began her assignment. 

The sound of the front door opening was followed by a rush of fast footsteps and an exuberant shout  of « Daddy! » that could only come from his little boy.

He turned the handle of the pan that was full of bubbling pasta sauce just in time to avoid it going all over his son, who he picked up to hug.

Of course Dickie hadn’t taken his coat or shoes off before greeting him. 

His little boy was chattering about how he had « the best day ever, Daddy! » because he’d climbed right up to the top of the climbing wall, had jumped higher than a kangaroo into the ball pit and had run so so fast in the race he’d taken part in at recess. Elliot carried him back to the hallway so he could take off his outerwear and put it away correctly, like his youngest and his wife were doing. Dickie had been peppering his mostly one-sided conversation with kisses to his father’s cheeks. Elliot returned the gesture, before placing him on the floor with precise instructions on what the next steps were. 

Lizzie hugged his legs and he bent to kiss her hair with a « Hi, pumpkin. Good day at the office? » which made her giggle. She nodded and made her way to the living area to do some reading, colouring or quiet playing until dinner time. Dickie followed behind, pretending to be a dinosaur.

He  finally greeted his wife with a kiss.

« Lizzie and her friend, Charlotte,  ended up coming to the soft play too » she explained.

« I’ll let you guess which one of our children did their homework quietly then sat and drew pictures or played in the pretend kitchen area and which one decided they will be retiring at the end of first grade and wanted to show everyone their pterodactyl impression » she continued, as she and her husband made their way into the family room.

Kathleen and Maureen were bickering, Dickie was running around, squawking loudly and Lizzie was carefully placing her rabbit family of Calico Critters in their tastefully decorated home. 

It was noisy, chaotic but full of love and laughter, and Elliot just loved it. He was looking forward to have Maureen back in her usual seat at the table and to hear her talking to everyone again. 

Maureen and her dad

Don't you understand? You're innocent, but the world, it's what I see day in, day out. You want to sneak out in the middle of the night, have a little fun with your friends. I end up picking up your body parts in the middle of Jersey.

SVU 1x06 Sophomore Jinx

[gophergal]

the solution to the "are you normal about X people who turn out to be Y" debate is stop fucking assuming things about people

You wanna know what pronouns to use for an individual? Ask them.

As a general rule, don't make jokes about the identity you perceive of someone. Know your audience

How is that hard? Why do we all think ourselves such experts on the lives of other people??????

[daz4i]

every day on midnight there is a guy who uploads a meme about what day of the war it is (49, currently) and every day there is a guy commenting updates on like if anything changed today. at some point another guy joined by giving fun facts about the number of each day. now the second guy has gotten bored and started adding more things too like fun facts and recipes. beautiful display of what despair can bring out of people (really funny memes. and solidarity ig. and tradition?)

[violetsandshrikes]

I met a girl when I was fresh out of high school in undergrad who frankly, annoyed me quite a bit, but I also had an inkling to continue to be compassionate to her given a few things about her life/background/family

I ran into her two years ago. Last week, her daughter turned 1. This girl, let’s called her “P”, is a really good example of why I never feel comfortable mocking trad wives

Her perfect trad husband, who was a shining young figure in the local religious community, volunteered in all sorts of groups, well loved in his workplace and everything else, beat her up at 1 month post-partum. I reached out to her after seeing her desperately asking for a stroller on a page, confused and slightly concerned knowing both of them came from wealthy backgrounds.

The reality for lots of tradwives living “perfect lives” is this: P was immediately ostracised. All the wealth of her husband and her family meant absolutely nothing if she wasn’t in favour and doing what she was told. Her child and her well-being didn’t matter. P, at 25 years old, was basically deemed an oopsie, and left on her own to figure out how to pay for herself, a baby, find housing, and every other task you can think of.

Having known many of these women (and supported many of these women), another factor most people don’t consider is this: they are intentionally raised to be helpless. When I immediately offered my support to P, she really needed it. This young woman needed to be guided through how to apply for government assistance, how to weigh up rentals and apply for them, how to apply for jobs, how to sign up for childcare. How to sign up for your own power and internet, and how to connect them.

It wasn’t that she was “stupid”, or incapable, or spoiled. While it looks like they’re being sheltered, in reality, these women are practically being held hostage. Sure, they might be allowed to learn things that are expected of them (see: basic cooking, baking, cleaning, child rearing, women’s bible studies, hosting, and so forth) but they are heavily controlled from family life into marriage life, and they are never given the opportunity or the reality of what many of us would consider basic adult tasks.

She’s doing okay now. Her daughter turned 1, is happy and healthy. They live frugally, but they have a roof over their heads and the essentials. I often babysit for her so she can attend counselling, or go to a woman’s support group. She is painfully aware that she has so much to learn about how to live as an adult.

I don’t envy tradwives, but I don’t find any joy in mocking them either. Even when they live the most picturesque lives, they’re also practically living a real life Jenga game. If (and often, when) it comes tumbling down, they’re screwed too, and they often have 0 skills to help themselves or find community (that again, isn’t carefully curated).

[prentissluvr]

four hours straight of dancing difficult choreo then three hours of being bent over painting children's faces then almost an hour of cleaning up the event MY BACK HURTS SO MUCH

[starlight-storytime]

essay in tags :p

[wavernot4love]

oh what do you Mean ag just announced a boom done tour and the first show is in my area. and also i see thursday play war all the time in full in less than a week .... a show which is also the first show of tour ....

big moment for wavernot4love lately