#they just want me to shut the fuck up and I'm not ok with it

[noellez-best-life23]

“Someone named Logan,” Sam answers after a quick glance down at the paperwork in front of him. “Do you know him?” Ok so obviously I knew he was in this because the it says it but the way I giggling so school girlish when a crush is mentioned is not right so excited to be reading this now

A life with me isn't a life that you want for yourself. I wish you could see that I'm doing this because I care about you. I'll never be able to give you a fraction of what you deserve.” Ok but what is it with these hurt characters who won't let someone love them because they think we deserve better like let us love you

Ok so I love the whole part where they all meet Logan calling Bucky bub Bucky staring and the reader being the keep them on task and they way Bucky was like we go this way you go that way it has me giggling so much

“It's what HYDRA is using to conduct breeding experiments with the mutants,” Bucky answers in a strained voice. “And now we've all three been infected with it.” Uh oh oh no what could possibly happen 😉😉

Ok so the spicy smuty part after is so hot like why can't I just have both forever and Logan's sweet little talk about how Bucky loves her

“Bucky,” you attempt to interrupt him gently. He ignores it, needing to get this off of his chest before it eats him alive. Not me wanting to scream shut up Bucky and listen

“I did love Logan,” you cut him off. “I'll always care about him, and I'm thankful for what he and I had. Without it, I wouldn't have found you.”

“I do,” you grin at him. “I'm sorry it took me so long to see it. I was so scared of getting hurt again that I let it blind me.” You stroke your thumb over his cheek and he can't help but melt into your touch. He thinks he's fucking dreaming. What why am I tearing up

Ok I loved this it was so good with they spicy and that fluffy ending of the reader and Bucky this was amazing

no one does it better

bucky barnes x reader, past logan howlett x reader

bucky barnes x reader x logan howlett {SEX POLLEN}

word count: 8.8k

summary: sent on a mission with the man you never intended to fall for, you run into someone from your past who your heart has never been able to fully let go of.

a/n: couldn't decide who i wanted to write my next one-shot for so i thought, why not both? these men are both my weakness and this trope is my weakness so this was bound to happen at some point. also big shout-out to @embbarnes for her encouragement with this and assuring me that it isn't complete trash 🫶🏻💕

warnings/tags: 18+ mdni, smut, sex pollen therefore dubcon, fuck or die situation, mmf threesome, unprotected p in v, oral (m&f receiving), definitely some angst, love triangle elements, mainly reader's pov but there's some pov switches for bucky and logan too, dirty talk, reader is afab, no use of y/n, multiple orgasms, hints of praise kink and overstimulation, reader has telekinetic abilities but i don't focus on that much

my masterlist

The shrill, repetitive beeping of an alarm clock startles you awake and causes you to bolt upright in the bed you'd fallen asleep in.

Not your bed, you realize as you clutch Bucky's satin sheets to your naked chest. You'd accidentally passed out in his room after your time together last night.

“Shit,” you breathe as you glance over to the digital display of the alarm clock on the bedside table, next to where Bucky begins to stir from his sleep. It's seven thirty in the morning, and you're going to be late for a meeting on an upcoming mission if you don't get back to your room and get ready ASAP.

“I'm so sorry,” you mumble as he hits the snooze button of the outdated alarm with the side of his metal hand. “I didn't mean to fall asleep.”

You withdraw from the covers, throwing your legs over the side of the mattress as you start to reach down to gather your clothes that are flung precariously on the floor next to you, when you feel his flesh hand wrap around your forearm.

You glance back at him to find him smirking up at you, sleep still written across his face.

It shouldn't be possible for anyone to look so beautiful first thing in the morning, you think.

He pulls you back down to him by your arm, only letting go when your face is close enough for him to seal his lips around yours. He kisses you slowly, lazily - not at all like the hurried, heated mess of tongue and teeth from last night.

“I'm not sorry. You're really cute when you snore, actually,” he murmurs when he pulls away.

You roll your eyes, proceeding to pick your clothes up from his floor. “I do not snore,” you retort in mock defense. You yank yesterday's tank top over your head before standing to tug on your underwear and sweatpants. “But we are both going to be late for this meeting if we don't get our asses out of bed.”

You turn to face him, your eyes raking over his still relaxed position against his pillow. He sits up, a look that you can't quite place on his face - something between dejection and disappointment. Whatever it is, you know you're the reason for it.

“It's not a big deal, you know,” he starts lightly with a small smile. You quirk an eyebrow at him. “That you slept in my bed,” he clarifies. “You technically live in this building, so I don't think we crossed any imaginary line.”

You huff a laugh under your breath, a sinking feeling in your gut at the direction that you feel this conversation is headed.

You wouldn't admit it to him because of said imaginary lines, but you enjoyed sleeping next to Bucky. He's warm, and his presence is comforting, even to your subconscious. You slept the most peacefully that you have in months last night. Normally, you toss and turn and wake up multiple times throughout the night. But after falling asleep pressed up against him, you didn't wake a single time until his alarm started blaring and you opened your eyes to the early morning sunlight streaming through the cracks in his curtains.

But you and him both know what this is, and what this isn't. And as badly as such a large part of you wants to have more than this with him, you don't know if you're ready to put your heart on the line again.

“Get dressed, Barnes,” you say as you rip his comforter away from his body with the snap of your fingers, leaving him fully exposed. The sight makes you want to crawl back into the bed with him, but you force yourself to walk towards his door, ignoring the incredulous look on his face. “I'm not going to be the one to blame when Sam bitches that we're late.”

••••••

Bucky is trying his hardest to pay attention to the case details that Sam is rambling on about, he really is.

But it's hard when his brain keeps going back to the fact that you fell asleep in his fucking bed and stayed with him the entire night. Your naked body pressed against his, your familiar scent of lavender and honey invading his senses throughout the night anytime you'd stir beside him.

When he woke up around two o'clock and realized that you had never made your way back to your own bedroom down the hall, he knew that he should wake you up and let you know that you'd fallen asleep. He knew that's what you would have wanted. But as he laid beside you, listening to the even and peaceful pattern of your breathing, he couldn't bring himself to disturb you - and selfishly, just didn't want you to leave.

You had been clear from the start - your arrangement was to be sex only. And Bucky had been fine with that, truly. He had been in agreement with you. He needed to focus on adjusting to life as a pardoned man post blip, and you needed to focus on healing from - well, he wasn't sure of the exact details. He didn't want to press you too much, but he knew that you had essentially started your life over shortly before he met you.

As happy as it made him to wake up with you beside him this morning, he rationally knew that you wouldn't let it happen again.

And that thought bothers him more than it probably should.

“We've been in communication with Charles Xavier, founder of the X-Men.” Sam’s voice draws Bucky’s attention back to the situation at hand. You sit directly across the table from him, his gaze flicking to you at the mention of your former mentor's name. Your face remains neutral, but he doesn't miss the way your posture tenses. “Upwards of a dozen mutants in their early twenties have gone missing. They have reason to believe that they are being held at a warehouse outside of Lake Placid.”

“That's horrible,” you say with a shake of your head. “So where do Bucky and I come into this?” You sound almost nervous, Bucky thinks.

“The warehouse they are being held at is a former HYDRA base,” Sam explains with a glance at Bucky. “A warehouse that was specifically used for breeding experiments back in the fifties and sixties. The X-Men would like our help with this, seeing as how we not only have someone familiar with HYDRA, but someone who has worked with their team in the past, too.”

You give a slight, curt nod. Bucky knows that you're too much of a team player to argue, but he can read you like an open book - he can tell that you have reservations about this, though he doesn't fully know why.

He has his reservations, too. As if the thought of going into a potentially active HYDRA base isn't enough to put him on edge, knowing that the two of you were going to be working with your former team that you had left years ago only adds to his apprehension.

“What's the plan, exactly?” Bucky speaks up, forcing himself to look away from you and back to Sam.

“First things first, we need to figure out precisely what we are dealing with. We need confirmation that this is in fact where the mutants are being held, and exactly how many there are. The two of you will go to the warehouse for re-con, and one of Xavier's men will be meeting you there. Once we know–”

“Who?” You interrupt, sitting up straight in your chair. “Did he say who will be joining us?”

“Someone named Logan,” Sam answers after a quick glance down at the paperwork in front of him. “Do you know him?”

You go silent, pursing your lips. Bucky and Sam both look at you expectantly as you seem to space out. Sam calls your name in question.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer, your voice an octave higher than usual. “I do - I did,” you correct quickly. “I knew him.”

Bucky's eyes narrow at your out of character response. Normally, you're witty and quick off the mark. Right now, you seem taken off guard - and kind of look like you might throw up.

Sam seems to notice your reaction, but doesn't question you any further. Instead, he awkwardly clears his throat and passes identical folders to both you and Bucky.

Bucky notices the slightest shake of your hand as you grab it off of the table.

“Here's all the information you should need for now,” Sam says. “You guys head out at noon.”

You stand up from your chair and speed walk towards the door without another word, flinging the door open without a flick of your fingers.

Sam gives Bucky a look that says “fuck if I know” before Bucky dashes out of the briefing room after you.

“Hey!” He calls, catching up to you in several long strides. He grabs you by the wrist, effectively stopping you in your tracks.

“Do you want some breakfast? I'm going to order Postmates.” You say before he can get a word out. He glances from your panic-stricken eyes down to the clammy skin of your wrist.

“Postmates?” He asks, appalled that you're asking him about breakfast right now. “What? No. I'm - are you okay?”

“I'm fine,” you raise your eyebrows with a forced looking grin. “A bit peckish, but I'm fin–”

He rolls his eyes at your stubbornness.

“Who’s Logan?” He feels you tense beneath his grasp on your hand.

“He's an X-Man,” you say with a tight shrug before pulling your hand away from his and continuing back down the hallway.

Bucky really doesn't want to pry, or force you to talk about something that is obviously a touchy subject, but he's worried. The both of you are going to have to work with the guy in a matter of hours, after all.

“Yeah, Sam just told us that much,” he continues as he walks quickly to keep up with you. “But what's the deal? I take it you don't like the guy or–?”

You're the one that comes to a halt this time.

“Logan is a good man, and I have no doubt that he'll do everything he can to help these mutants that we're looking for. That's all that matters, okay?” You say in a tone that indicates the end of the discussion.

Bucky doesn’t push the topic any further, satisfied enough with your answer despite the voice in the back of his mind that is screaming that there's more to the story than your brief explanation.

“Now, do you want a breakfast burrito or not?”

••••••

It's actually pretty pathetic that nearly three years of healing can go down the drain with a simple mention of his name.

You knew that you still cared for him. You knew that part of you always would, no matter how much time and space was between you.

But when Sam mentioned his name in that briefing room, you felt as though no time had passed at all. You were right back in your bedroom at the X-Men's headquarters, packing up your belongings to leave behind the only life that you had ever truly known.

And it wasn't because you wanted to. You didn't want to at all, really. But you'd put your heart on the line for someone who wouldn't take it, one too many times. You had accepted that you had no future there. At least not the one that you so desperately craved.

A future with Logan.

“A life with me isn't a life that you want for yourself. I wish you could see that I'm doing this because I care about you. I'll never be able to give you a fraction of what you deserve.”

You remember how he wouldn't even look you in the eye as he broke the last piece of your heart with his words. Just stared at the empty shot glass on the table in front of him.

“You're giving up your last chance to even try.”

The last words you'd said to him play on repeat in your head the entire drive to Lake Placid.

You know that Bucky can tell that something is bothering you - and by extension, you can tell that something is bothering him. He hasn't once mentioned the mission at hand or attempted to turn on the radio, instead opting to drive in a heavy, loaded silence for the first hour of the car ride to the warehouse.

You glance at his side profile from the corner of your eye. His jaw is set tightly and his face otherwise expressionless, but you've known him long enough to know what he's thinking.

“We were together,” you blurt out quickly. He turns his head to look over at you in the passenger seat, his face not revealing his thoughts. “Logan and I. We were together.”

“It's okay. You don't owe me an explanation,” he replies in a stiff voice, his gaze turning back to the road in front of you. You notice his grip on the steering wheel tightens.

“I know I don't. But you still deserve one,” you continue as you begin to inadvertently pick at your cuticles. “If the situation were reversed, and we were about to walk into this with someone that you'd been with intimately in the past, I would appreciate knowing that beforehand.”

This seems to alleviate some of the tension that he's carrying. His grip on the steering wheel slackens, and he looks back over at you with a small smile.

“Well, thank you for telling me.”

“I'm sorry that I didn't let you know when you asked about him earlier,” you continue. “I was just.. taken off guard. It's been a long time since I've seen him, or even talked about him.”

“How long were you two together?”

You weren't surprised by the question, but you still found yourself unsure of how to answer. You knew the true answer would likely lead to follow up questions - follow up questions that would sting to answer out loud.

But over the course of the months that you've been sleeping with Bucky, you've fallen for him. You didn't mean to, and you didn't want to admit it to yourself at first, but it had been a while since you had been able to deny that fact to yourself. No matter how seeing Logan again after all these years goes, it won't change your feelings for Bucky. You don't know what the future looks like for you and Bucky, but you know you owe him honesty and transparency.

“Well,” you start. “We were never really officially.. together. But we were.. involved for a year when I broke things off.” You hope that he can read between the lines of your poor excuse of an explanation.

“Oh,” he answers shortly. You can't tell if your answer made him feel better or worse about the situation. “And why did you break things off?”

You look down at your hands in your lap as you clear your throat. “We wanted different things,” you shrug. “I wanted something more serious and he felt he wasn't capable of giving that to me.”

“Wasn't capable?”

“He had his reasons,” you sigh. “I know he cared for me, he could just never.. get out of his own head long enough to allow himself happiness. I don't hold it against him. It's been years, and I've made peace with it.”

“Were you…?” He trails off, his eyes flickering between you and the road that he turns onto. According to the GPS, the warehouse is just a few miles away now.

“In love with him?” You finish for him. He looks at you expectantly.

“Yeah,” you answer honestly. “I was.”

••••••

The words I don't know why I signed up for this shit keep playing on an endless loop in Logan's brain.

Every time, the words are followed by the image of your face.

He swears he's a fucking idiot. He doesn't even know if you'll be here. The Avengers have how many members at this point, anyway? What are the odds that you'll be here, out of all of them?

And even if you do happen to be here? Then what? It's been three years since he willingly let you walk out of his life. You've made a new life for yourself, found a new job and a family with them.

He didn't think this through, and he knows that. All he can do now is remind himself to focus on the mission, and worry about the rest later.

He can't allow himself to think what if he sees you again. Not when you always deserved better, and certainly do now that he's let so much time pass without even reaching out.

There's two things he's absolutely certain about, however. One, this warehouse reeks of sewage and mothballs.

Two, it's fucking empty.

He had arrived before the Avenger’s members that he is supposed to be meeting and immediately knew that something was off. His heightened senses detected no fresh human or mutant scents, or any kind of sounds emanating from the building.

He slipped through a back stairwell door to confirm his suspicions.

Completely deserted.

“Fuckin' hell,” Logan groans to himself as he storms down a hallway, shoving every door he comes to open to make sure that HYDRA left behind no bodies.

He finds no one, dead or alive, which is both concerning and comforting. He has no idea how, but HYDRA clearly got tipped off that they were onto them and emptied the place out at a moment's notice.

He turns around the corner at the end of the long hallway, going to search for any indication of where they could possibly be transporting the mutants to next, when a voice that he hasn’t heard in years and a whiff of lavender and honey stops him in his tracks.

••••••

“We had to have just missed them. They can't possibly be too far from here. We need to find Lo–”

You come to an abrupt halt when he rounds the corner just a few feet ahead of you. Bucky stops beside you, letting you take the lead.

“Logan,” you breathe. He hasn't aged a day - he looks exactly as he did the last time that you saw him, though that comes as no surprise.

His eyes pause on the small Avengers emblem on the breast pocket of your tactical suit before trailing his gaze up to yours.

Though it feels surreal to be standing in front of him after all this time, the gravity of the situation and the fact that Bucky's arm grazes against yours from beside you helps ground you.

“It's good to see you,” he greets you with a murmur of your name. “I wish it could be under different circumstances.”

Your only response is a stiff nod as you awkwardly clear your throat and turn to the man beside you, whose harsh stare has yet to leave Logan.

“This is my partner, Bucky,” you introduce them, gesturing between the two. “Bucky, this is Logan.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you, bub,” Logan grunts after a pregnant pause. You don't miss the way Bucky's eyes narrow at him at the nickname.

“He always stare this much?” Logan asks when Bucky offers nothing in response other than a curt nod. An almost sadistic smile begins to spread across Bucky's face at Logan's remark, causing you to grab his bicep in a firm hold right as he opens his mouth to respond.

“Let’s stay focused, yeah?” You glance back and forth between the two of them. The entire situation is nerve racking enough, the last thing you need is the two of them at each other's throats. “We need to do a sweep of each level to see if there's any kind of evidence as to exactly what they’re doing and where they could be headed next.”

“Great idea,” Bucky speaks up as he puts his hand on your lower back and angles you away from Logan. “You and I will check out the east wing,” he says to you, moving you in the opposite direction by applying pressure to your back as he begins to walk away.

“And you can check out the basement,” he calls to Logan over his shoulder.

You think you hear Logan chuckle under his breath as he begins to walk towards a stairwell. Luckily, without any argument.

“Subtle,” you mumble as Bucky steers you around a corner and then drops his hold on your back. “Was that really necessary?”

“I didn’t like the way he called me bub.”

“He calls everyone bub,” you snort.

“Does he call you bub?”

“Well, no–”

“Exactly.”

You throw your hands up in surrender, not wanting this to turn into an actual argument. You and Bucky work in silence as you clear the east wing of the warehouse, checking each room for any signs of what has happened and where HYDRA could be heading with the mutants next.

You find over half a dozen small rooms with hospital style beds, each rigged with hand and ankle cuffs. Almost all of them have blood stained sheets, and you have to fight off the nausea that begins to grow in your stomach at the sights and smells.

After clearing all of the makeshift bedrooms, the two of you come to a set of large, metal double doors at the end of the hallway. There's glass paneling on each one, but they're so caked in dust and grime that it's impossible to peer through them.

“Stand back,” Bucky instructs you gently. “I'll go in first.” You take a step back, allowing him to press his frame against one of the doors. It opens with a shrill creak, revealing a large room full of surgical tables, monitors, and shelves overfilled with various vials and bottles of unknown substances.

Bucky enters the room, holding the door open for you to follow him inside.

“We should take pictures of all of this,” you start, glancing around at all of the packed shelves. Bucky lets go of the door, looking around the room with you. “I don't know what any of this shit–”

You're cut off by the sound of the metal door slamming to a harsh close behind the two of you, immediately followed by dozens of glass vials shattering against the cement floor when a wooden shelf collapses.

It all happens so fast that you don't even have time to think about using your powers to stop it.

You both jump back, distancing yourselves from the thick plumes of red and black smoke that erupt from the pile of shattered glass. The room is quickly filled with a thick stench of something akin to vinegar. You burst into a coughing fit as Bucky tugs you away from the wreckage, shielding your face to the best of his ability with his metal arm.

“That can't be fucking good,” you manage to get out in between coughs. The billows of smoke continue to grow higher, effectively blocking you and Bucky from the doorway. To get out of the room, you'd have to walk right through it.

“Maybe it'll dissipate in a sec–”

You're cut off by a sharp stabbing pain that starts in your lower belly and radiates all the way through your diaphragm and pelvis.

“Fuck!” you yelp out, clutching at your stomach. Bucky immediately lunges towards you, preventing you from completely crumpling over.

“What is it?” He asks, panic evident in his voice. “Hey, look at me, what's going–”

He can’t get the rest of his question out before he's letting out a sharp hiss, his hands moving to clutch his own stomach. “Oh, fuck,” he groans through gritted teeth.

“What was that?” You cry. Your legs suddenly feel like jelly, and before you can grab onto one of the surgical tables for support, you're falling to your knees on the hard cement floor.

Before Bucky can manage any kind of response, your head is snapping towards the entryway to the room that's concealed by the cloud of smoke. You can hear Logan calling your name from down the hallway.

“Logan!” You yell back just as another jolt of pain hits your gut. “Don't! Don't come in here!”

But just as the warning leaves your lips, Logan is slamming the double doors open and walking directly into the chemical cloud.

“Goddammit, what the hell?” He yells as he begins viciously coughing. Bucky falls to the floor next to you, his face distorted in pain.

It's as you're looking at his face - his plush pink lips and perfectly chiseled jawline - that your heart rate begins to skyrocket.

Logan emerges from the dark burgundy cloud, looking completely bewildered as he takes in the state of you and Bucky on the floor. His gaze settles on you in concern.

“Are you okay? What happened?”

“The shelf fell,” you grunt out, looking over to the smoke that's now beginning to dissipate. “A bunch of vials shattered. Whatever was in them–”

You can't finish the sentence before you're overtaken by discomfort in your groin. You look down at the zipper of your tactical suit, trying to make any sense of what is happening. It feels as if you’ve pissed yourself - your underwear is suddenly uncomfortably sticky and wet.

“What was in those vials?” Logan demands. You look up, frantically glancing between him and Bucky. Logan stumbles backwards, clutching his stomach with one hand as he leans against a surgical table for support.

“It's what HYDRA is using to conduct breeding experiments with the mutants,” Bucky answers in a strained voice. “And now we've all three been infected with it.”

••••••

Logan thinks that for the first time in two hundred years, he could actually fucking die. His lungs feel like they are collapsing within the cavity of his chest and liquid fire courses through his veins. He looks at you, doubled over in pain on the ground as Bucky crouches next to you and rubs circles on your lower back in a futile attempt to comfort you.

Logan has never considered himself to be a jealous man, but the mere sight of him touching you through your tactical suit makes his blood boil even hotter than it already was. He knows that if you had shown up here alone and the two of you found yourselves in this position, Logan would already have you bent over this table with his cock buried up to your stomach.

It's eating him alive - the drug, yes, but also the thought that you could possibly feel for Bucky what you once felt for him.

He knows he has no right to feel this way. Not when he had every opportunity to prevent you from walking away from him, and didn't take any of them. Not when you'd still be with the X-Men today, if you hadn't felt like your only chance at moving on from him was by leaving.

He knows all of this. But the drug in his system is making him really fucking irrational and possessive over someone who clearly doesn't belong to him anymore.

Doesn't belong to him and never did, he reminds himself. He has himself to thank for that.

“She's your girl, is she not?” Logan spits out through gritted teeth. “Don't let me stop you.”

He has to get out of here. He has to get somewhere far the fuck away from you before he -

“Logan, don't be ridiculous,” you groan from where you're crouched on the ground. “We are miles away from civilization. This will kill you before you can even–”

Your voice alone is enough to make his cock feel like it's going to explode.

“Kill me?” He chuckles. “You've clearly forgotten a lot about me, sweetheart.”

He turns to leave the room when Bucky's voice brings him to a halt.

“She's right. They're experimenting on mutants, you don't think they've taken regenerative powers into consideration? This shit has been reformulated to kill anyone with a beating heart.”

“What are you suggesting, huh?” Logan demands at Bucky. He doesn't know if what he is saying is true or not - he just knows that the room feels over a hundred degrees every time he looks at you and that it's a miracle he hasn't sliced this Bucky's guy's neck to get you alone yet. “If that's true, there's only one way out of this. For all of us. Something tells me you won't be okay with that.”

If the way that Bucky glared at him when they first met didn't tell him enough, the pheromones that practically radiated off of him certainly did. He may not know the intimate details of your and Bucky's relationship, but one thing is plain as day - the man is in love with you, and Logan can't blame him for it.

Bucky forces himself up into a standing position, you still slumped on the floor by his feet. He takes a step toward Logan, allowing Logan to see the sweat that drips down his forehead and his dilated pupils.

“Okay with it?” Bucky chuckles grimly. “Of course I'm not okay with it. The thought of you touching her makes me want to choke the life out of you myself, but the thought of you dying and causing her even more pain? I'm even less okay with that.”

“No one is dying,” you exclaim from beneath them, looking up at both of them with bloodshot eyes. “We're going to do what it takes to make it through this. Okay? All of us.”

••••••

There wasn't enough time to overthink it. If there was, this wouldn't be happening.

You were acting on pure instincts - instincts that were screaming at you to keep them both, and yourself, alive.

There's a tiny, faint voice in the back of your mind that reminds you of all of the potential consequences of this - of what the aftermath of this will be like. But then there's a louder, more dominating voice that overpowers it, telling you to give into this drug and save yourself, save Logan, save Bucky.

Bucky hauls you up to your feet, pulling you off the cement flooring by the tops of your arms.

“You sure about this?” He asks lowly, walking you backwards until the backs of your thighs come in contact with a surgical table. It amazes you - how he's somehow able to still be so considerate of you when this drug is ravaging his body, too.

You look back and forth between him and Logan, both of them doing their best to conceal the considerable pain that they're in.

You suddenly find it hard to care about how fucked of a situation that you're in. Not when all you want is to feel them, touch them, taste them both.

Logan walks over to the two of you in two long strides. You perch on the ledge of the surgical table, Bucky and Logan standing side by side in front of you, trapping you between them and the bed. Their scents are overwhelming - Bucky's piney aftershave and Logan's faint musk of old tobacco.

“Order me away,” Logan murmurs breathlessly. “Tell me to leave right now, and I will, even if it kills me.”

“No,” you practically bark at Logan, tugging him down by the tactical vest until his face is just inches from yours. “I am sure about this,” you implore. You drop your hold on his vest, bringing your hand to the zipper at the top of your own tactical suit and ripping it downwards, exposing your stomach and your lace clad breasts. You push the stretchy material away from your shoulders and down your arms, leaving yourself exposed from the waist up with the exception of your bra.

In any other scenario, you would have felt insecure about being so exposed in front of the both of them. But right now, with the drug spurring you on and the way that both of their eyes rake over your figure, it's an empowering high.

“Lay down,” Bucky instructs you gently, restraint in his voice. “Gotta get you out of this suit so we can take care of you.”

You don't hesitate to do as he asks, scooting backwards onto thin foam padding of the surgical table and laying down on your back. Bucky follows your lead, caging you to the bed with his metal arm as he hovers above you on the poor excuse of a mattress. He rips the thin lace material of your bralette away from your breast, immediately attaching his mouth to your nipple. You hiss, arching into the sensation.

Logan stands at the end of the bed, making quick work of shedding you of your boots before shimmying your tactical suit and your panties the rest of the way down your body. He groans at the sight of your exposed, wet cunt.

Bucky pulls away and you whimper at the loss of contact. He grins up at you, and then looks down at where Logan is now kneeling at the bottom of the table. He splays his large hands on your inner thighs, spreading your legs apart.

“Go for it,” Bucky encourages him. “It's only fair. I had her just last night, after all.”

The possessive edge to his voice with the not so subtle reminder of who gets to fuck you now sends a fresh wave of arousal through you, making your pussy clench.

Logan growls at his words - there's no better word for the sound. Deep, dark and guttural, he growls before lowering his mouth to your wet heat.

There's an instantaneous relief wash over you as his tongue licks a thick strip from your hole and up to your clit. He moans into you as you lock your thighs around either side of his head, the scruff of his beard tickling your skin.

You pull Bucky down to you, crushing your lips against his. He brings his flesh hand to your exposed breast again, palming and pinching your nipple between his thumb and index finger.

You feel drunk off of the way that both of their tongues explore you - Bucky's mingling with your own and Logan's lapping at your pussy. You snake your hands between your and Bucky's bodies, cupping his evident bulge in your palm through his tactical pants. He thrusts his hips into your touch, but you know it’s not enough to provide him any kind of relief. Your fingers fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants until you’re able to free his cock. You stroke him in one hand, smearing the pre-cum around his tip up and down his length. His forehead rests against yours as his eyes roll back into his head.

With your other hand, you reach down to where Logan is nestled between your thighs and lace your fingers between the tufts of his hair. It’s all so strangely familiar - the feeling of Bucky twitching in your palm and Logan’s lips locked around your clit.

Despite the time that's passed since the last time he's touched you, Logan still knows your body like the back of his hand. He knows you're close when you start bucking your hips against his mouth, chasing your release with the friction. He brings a calloused finger to the base of your cunt, circling the tip of it in the excess of your juices before slipping it into you with ease. He quickly adds a second, dragging the digits along the velvet walls of your cunt. Bucky captures your lips in his once more as you pump him rapidly in your hand and you feel the coil in your belly heat and tighten when he slips his tongue inside your mouth.

You cum with a cry that gets lost in Bucky's mouth, Logan working you through your orgasm with his tongue and fingers until you've stopped writhing against his face.

“She makes the prettiest sounds when she's fucked out of her mind, doesn't she?” Logan slurs as he sits up on his knees and begins to unbutton his pants. His lips and beard glisten with your slick.

“Tell me about it,” Bucky agrees, pulling himself out of your hand. He helps you into a sitting position and then cups your jawline in both of his face, forcing you to look up at him.

“Which one of us do you want first, huh?”

Drunk off of their words in your post-orgasm haze, all you can do is shake your head. You know either one of them would fill you up just right, alleviating the still present ache in your gut.

“Come on, sweetheart,” Logan purrs as he yanks his pants and boxers down to his knees with one hand and pumps his length in the other. “Gotta tell us what you want. You're the one calling the shots here.”

It's the way that they're both looking at you like they'd do anything you asked of them that gives you the courage to take control of the situation.

“Come up here,” you instruct Logan. Bucky hops off of the bed, giving you space to maneuver yourself onto your hands and knees. Logan crawls around you, until his cock is directly in front of your face.

Bucky takes it upon himself to take Logan's prior position at the base of the bed, stroking himself in his hand as he lines himself up at your entrance. He teases your hole for a moment, unable to hold back any longer as he sinks his length into you. You gasp at the fullness of it, instantly rocking back against him as he digs both his metal and flesh fingers into the meat of your hips.

Logan fists his cock, the tip glistening just inches in front of your mouth. You stick out your tongue, licking up the beads of pre-cum that drip down the head. He curses under his breath, nudging your lips apart with the tip. His eyes flutter closed as you take him in your mouth, inch by inch until he hits the back of your throat. Behind you, Bucky works up to a brutal pace that has you moaning around Logan's cock in your mouth.

“You look so pretty like this,” Logan praises from above you as he cradles your head in his hands, keeping you right where he wants you. “Always been so pretty. You know that?”

You bob your head along his length, bringing one hand to massage the base of his shaft.

It's all overwhelming - the angle that Bucky is hitting your cervix over and over again, and the lack of oxygen from Logan completely filling your mouth and throat.

“So fucking tight, too,” Bucky coos as he loops his arm around your midsection, bringing his flesh fingers to rub your clit. Logan begins to piston his hips back and forth, making you gag each time he rams against the back of your throat. The lack of air has your cheeks stained with a steady stream of tears. “Taking both of us so well. Fuck, ‘m gonna cum.”

His words send you over the edge, a second orgasm washing over you. You pull yourself off of Logan’s dick, all but going limp on the shitty foam mattress beneath you as Bucky spills into you from behind. Logan keeps a firm grasp on your shoulders, helping to keep you upright as you come down for your climax.

As you try to regulate your breathing, you’re overcome with relief at knowing that Bucky’s going to be okay - and relief at the absence of searing pain in your own gut when Bucky pulls out of you. Relief that is short-lived when you look up to see that Logan’s face is still contorted in pain.

“Lay down,” you instruct him breathlessly. “I’ll take care of you.”

Instead of doing as you ask, he pulls you up to him by the tops of your arms and melds his lips to yours. It hits you that although his cock was just down your throat, this is the first time that the two of you have kissed in years. He tastes exactly as you remember - there’s always an underlying hint of sweet tobacco and bourbon.

Despite the urgency of the situation, he takes his time kissing you. He’s almost hesitant at first, sweeping his tongue along your bottom lip as if asking for permission before slipping it inside your mouth. You're vaguely aware of the sound of the metal doors creaking open and then clicking closed in the background.

It's over as quickly as it begins. When he pulls away, he's looking down at you, the pain that he's in no longer visibly displayed on his features. As if your kiss alone was a balm.

“I had to do that, just once. Just one more time.”

And with that he maneuvers himself so that he's laying flat against the surgical table, pulling you across him so that your thighs straddle either side of his hips. You glance around the room, realizing that Bucky is nowhere to be seen.

You can't say that you blame him - with the drugs dissipating from his system now that he's had his release, of course he wouldn't want to stick around for what's to come.

What did you expect him to do, stand to the sidelines and watch? Still, a wave of panic washes over you at not knowing where he's at - physically or mentally.

“I'll make this quick, sweetheart,” Logan murmurs from beneath you, noticing your distraction. “This will all be over soon.”

This draws your attention back to him, and panic is replaced with guilt - guilt that he still has these chemicals making every fiber of his being undoubtedly feel like he's on fire, while you now feel okay.

“Don't worry about me,” you tell him, cradling his jaw in the palm of your hand from above him. You lean forward on your knees, using your other hand to align his erection with your entrance. You sink yourself onto him in one swift motion, gasping at the stretch of his girth. “Just focus on yourself,” you whisper through the burn.

You give yourself a brief moment to adjust to the angle before rocking forward, pulling out almost completely before sinking back down. His facial features visibly relax at your movements, your walls fluttering around his length and alleviating all of his discomfort.

“That's it,” he encourages as you pick up your pace. “Just like that.” His large hands come to grip your hips, helping to move you up and down. He thrusts up, meeting each of your movements with his own. “Feel just as perfect as you always have.”

You can tell he's close when the movements of his hips grow sloppy and his breathing becomes erratic. One, two, three more harsh thrusts and he's spilling into you - his brows furrowed together and his teeth dug into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood if it weren't for the fact that the indentations heal as quickly as they appear.

You let out an audible sigh of relief as you pull yourself off of him, a mixture of both his and Bucky's cum leaking down your inner thighs.

You're okay. Logan's okay. Bucky's okay. Okay being a relative term, of course. But you were all three going to live.

You sit on the edge of the table as Logan stands up and tucks himself back into his pants. He grabs your underwear and tactical suit from where they'd been discarded on the floor and hands them to you.

“You okay?” He asks hesitantly.

“Yeah,” you answer as you slide your panties up your thighs. He looks away, wanting to give you the privacy to dress yourself now that you're no longer under the influence of the drugs. “Yeah, I think so. Are you?”

“Feeling a lot better than I was just five minutes ago.”

The two of you fall into a heavy silence as you proceed to put on your clothing and boots. Logan pulls out a cigar and a lighter from one of the interior pockets of his vest and lights it up. You can't help but laugh under your breath - some things never change.

“Listen,” Logan starts as he exhales a puff of a smoke. “I know this wasn't anyone's fault and we all did what we had to do, but I'm sorry if this causes any issues between you and your boyfriend.”

“You don't need to be sorry,” you assure him. “And he's not my boyfriend,” you add in a smaller voice.

“Could have fooled me,” Logan huffs with another inhale of his cigar. “Practically smelled it on him the second that I saw the two of you together.”

“Smelled it on him?”

Logan takes a step closer to you, narrowing his eyes at you.

“Sweetheart, that man loves you. A blind man could see it.”

A lump forms in your throat as you take in his words. Could they be true? Could Bucky really love you? You weren't naive enough to think that he feels nothing for you - you've always known that he cares for you.

Maybe, just maybe it's possible - possible that you have spent so much time and effort keeping your walls up that you were blind to the fact that he could be in love with you.

“Look, I'm not trying to overstep here,” Logan continues when you don't respond. “I just want you to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted for you. Just don't make the same mistakes that I did, yeah? If you love the guy, tell him.”

You jump down from the edge of the table, coming to stand directly in front of Logan. Sincerity flickers in his hazel eyes - hazel eyes that you used to be in love with and will always have love for.

But it's different now. You know it, and he does too.

You raise up on the tips of your toes and plant a small kiss near the corner of his mouth.

“Thank you, Logan,” you murmur. “Take care of yourself.”

••••••

The two hour long car ride back to the compound feels eternal despite the fact that Bucky drives a steady fifteen miles an hour over the speed limit the entire time.

After you ran out of the warehouse looking for him, Bucky was quick to make sure that you were okay. After being assured that you were physically fine, he wasted no time in ushering you back to the vehicle and getting the fuck out of Lake Placid.

He knew that you and him would have to have a conversation. He knew that you were itching to bring it up - could tell that you were nervous by the way that you dug your nails into the palm of your hands and repeatedly cracked your knuckles throughout the drive back home.

But he wasn't ready to hear it. He wasn't ready to hear how seeing Logan after all of this time brought up so many feelings that you thought were buried. He wasn't ready to hear how kissing him again made you realize that you couldn't kiss him anymore.

He wasn't ready to accept the fact that the last time he got to fuck you, he had to share you with the man that you'd undoubtedly be going back to.

So when he sees you part your lips to speak from his peripheral vision, he pretends he doesn't notice and quickly turns up the volume to the radio, blaring some shitty early 2000's pop song that sounds like nails on a chalkboard to him.

Anything sounds better than the words that he dreads coming from your mouth.

As soon as the two of you arrive back to the compound, you're both whisked in different directions for medical exams and separate debriefings on what happened during the mission.

By the time he's finished getting the third degree from Sam, and has given a blood sample so that the research team can study the drug that the three of you had been exposed to, he's ready to sleep for a solid twenty-four hours.

But he knows he won't be able to fall asleep with the ten pound brick that sits in the pit of his stomach at the thought of how the next conversation between you and him is bound to go.

He's walking back to his room, practically dragging his feet, when he walks by your door - it's slightly ajar, and light creeps into the otherwise dark hallway from the opening. He pauses to listen, hearing only the soft shuffle of your slippers on your rug and the low volume of your TV, undoubtedly playing one of your comfort shows.

He takes a deep breath before giving a soft knock to your bedroom door. He hears your footsteps approach the door, his heart sinking to his stomach before you can even open it.

“Bucky,” you breathe. He relaxes the slightest bit at the fact that you sound relieved to see him. “Come in,” you tell him as you open the door wider for him.

He enters the familiar, comforting space of your bedroom. You've lit several tea light candles throughout the small space, and he sees that his assumption about your comfort show playing is correct.

“I was going to come check on you in a little bit,” you tell him as you sit down next to him. “Are you okay?” You ask him gently.

He gulps, not knowing where to begin.

“I'm alright, all things considered,” he offers with a forced smile. “Listen,” he continues, suddenly unable to hold your gaze. His eyes flitter around your room, as if he's trying to memorize all of the little details. “I know you're probably exhausted, but I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry for what happened today. I'm sure that it was harder on you than it was on either of us. I know you loved him, and I get it if you still do and don't want to continue this now. I wouldn't blame you if you went back–”

“Bucky,” you attempt to interrupt him gently. He ignores it, needing to get this off of his chest before it eats him alive.

“--back to him. But I just need you to know that this doesn't change anything for me. We did what we had to do for us all to make it out of that alive, but I don't want anything to change between you and I. I hope we can.. go back to normal.”

He finally looks back to you once he finishes rambling.

“I don't want things to go back to normal for us.”

He assumed that's what was coming, but it doesn't make it sting any less. He clears his throat, and starts to push himself off of your bed when you grab his hand.

“I don't want things to go back to normal for us because I'm in love with you, Bucky.”

You close the small amount of space between the two of you, cupping his head in your hands and pulling his face to yours. You slate your lips over his and before he can even process what you've said, he's wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you onto his lap.

Because I'm in love with you, Bucky replays on repeat in his head as he kisses you until you're breathless above him.

“You love me? But - Logan - what about–” He stutters out as he stares up at you.

“I did love Logan,” you cut him off. “I'll always care about him, and I'm thankful for what he and I had. Without it, I wouldn't have found you.”

“You love me,” he states in disbelief.

“I do,” you grin at him. “I'm sorry it took me so long to see it. I was so scared of getting hurt again that I let it blind me.” You stroke your thumb over his cheek and he can't help but melt into your touch. He thinks he's fucking dreaming.

You love him. It sounds too good to be true. But he knows you too well enough to know that you wouldn't say it if you didn't mean it.

He can see it in your eyes, just how true it is.

“I love you,” he breathes before bringing his lips to yours once more. He kisses you like it's the first time he ever has - takes his time exploring your mouth with his, he nips and sucks on the swell of your bottom lip with his teeth.

You break the kiss, a playful smile blooming on your face.

“I was about to hop in the shower when you knocked. Would you want to take one with me?”

He can't help but return the smile. “You're inviting me to shower with you? Next thing I know you're going to be falling asleep in my bed on purpose.”

You snap your fingers, and Bucky hears the water from your shower begin to beat down on the floor of the tub.

“Oh, you're sleeping in my bed tonight, if that wasn't obvious.”

DISCLAIMER i promise i love logan howlett with my whole heart!!! ❤️ i don't normally write angst so i wanted to try something a bit out of my comfort zone. it's been a little while since i've written for bucky so that motivated me to gear this story more towards him, but there's plenty of happy logan pieces on my masterlist 🫶🏻💕

[amurotoorudesu]

just a sagau genshin abt the newest banner (geo & hydro dragon my love) (the creator is self insert) LOTS OF OOC

a/n : written in rush cuz i randomly think abt this after knewing next phase banner and i hope i got both of them, i was gonna added about how i forgot ayato & childe exist when i planning on which dps from each vision should i pull, but they make no sense so i didnt include it.

"I didnt mean to look down on your choice, Your Grace. But, didnt your cousin says itll be better just to pull me...?"

You look at Zhongli with the most unserious, more like silly face, thinking about hes actually jealous of your choice on pulling for Neuvillette.

While it's true you need his shield and he would be the first Geo 5 star you have, but who wouldnt want a hydro dragon pure water tester PLUS a water machine gun to pew pew those enemies!

And more better? You have an unbuild Furina too!

"But my cousin also says he would comeback to genshin to pull for Nupi!"

If Zhongli able to curse, he will.

when will you also gave him a cute, silly lil nickname to him too?

"But like, Your Grace—"

"Shhsshhh"

You quickly shut him, putting your own finger on his lips, making a small blush creep onto the Geo Archon.

Zhongli can feel the side eye Neuvillette gave him as the Hydro dragon sips on his pure water.

"But, Your—"

Seriously, you never saw this version of him thats cant control his own usual calm demeanor, but the version you see is the impatient and insists that his opinion is the best.

Not like he's wrong though.

You put your own finger on you lips now and did a mewing pose, kinda making those two old dragon sigh.

whats wrong with this generation...

"Zhongli, hear me out. Nupi is a nuke, or else should i say Nukelet? Thats suit you isnt it?"

Neuvillette sighed again, but he didnt hide his chuckle about his Creator giving him more silly nickname.

"Pardon me, Your Grace. While it doesn't matter to me that you call me that, but I'm a dragon, not a nuke. I dont boom myself"

"But youre a boomer."

"Was that supposed to be a joke?"

"No."

Back to Zhongli. Hes still thinking countless reason about why you should pull for him.

I mean, his material is easier to get (even if youre the Creator and couldve just easily get everything you want), his talent is useful (SHIELD??? BIG PILLARS???? THROWING BIG ROCKS TO THE ENEMIES?????), he got many fans (BUT ITLL BE USELESS IF HIS CREATOR DIDNT WANT TO PULL HIM), he got many fanfics (HE KNEW YOU LIKE TO READ THEM AND HE WILL HACK THE TUMBLR TO SHOWS UP MANY FANFICS ABOUT HIM ON YOUR DASHBOARD BUT EXCLUDING THE HURT/NO COMFORT BCS HE KNEW YOU DESPISE THEM)

But then he come to a conclusion, as he clapped his hand.

"Your Grace, if Sir Neuvillette have Furina on your team, what about Xiao?"

Fuck he was right. WHAT ABOUT YOUR XIAO????? HE NEED HIS FATHER FIGURE!!!!

"Youve got a point..." you pose like the trade offer meme.

"So, who should i choose now? is it you, Sir Zhongli, or is it you, Monsieur Neuvillette?"

"Uhm, pardon me but, why dont you just get us?" ask Neuvillette, putting his cup on the table.

"Dont you think itll be better, Your Grace? You get two dragons and you also have their companions on your team."

"Monsieur, i dont have that kind of money. Im still in high school, heck, a boarding school! Even if i have guaranteed now, i dont think i can."

"But our banner started on your holidays..."

"Ok now you got another point"

"So, what you gonna do?"

"I'll take two dragon, please"

Perhaps Zhongli should thank Neuvillette for his suggestion.

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

another a/n : i post this cuz im at my home, suffering from another sudden sickness (i keep getting nauseous and vomiting plus a bad fever & headache but idk what causes them can anyone tell me 😭) also i have a tooth extraction scheduled on Monday so yeah... wished my future self a good luck

[thlayli-ra]

Trick or treat is such a fun idea!

Could I request a Punkintyre ficlet with the shock collar prompt 🥺 (I would very much appreciate Drew being the one in the collar but I leave the details in your very capable hands)

Ok so, just, let me explain myself here! By the time this prompt came through I had already received the Cody Rhodes 'Shock Collar' prompt and I didn't want to essentially write the same fic so I tried to come up with something different and I couldn't stop thinking about this gifset from Bad Blood and @fantasticalleigh 's tags on it about Punk and Drew being like two beasts mating in captivity, and it made me think of the original Planet of the Apes movie and well... this is the final result. Hope it's kinda, sorta what you were hoping for (I'm sorry!)??? 😬

Trick - 'Shock Collar'

Characters - CM Punk, Drew McIntyre

Rating - Mature (18+)

Warning Tags - Alien Abduction, Drugging, Breeding, Non-Con, Dub-Con, Rough Sex

'Punk! Wake up! Wake up, ye stupid prick!'

A meaty palm slapped his cheek, stirring him from his deep sleep. 'Ow!' Punk grunted moodily. 'What the fuck's wrong with you?'

It was then that he saw the raw terror in Drew McIntyre's eyes. 'Everything is wrong! Everything is as fucking wrong as it can possibly be!'

His vision started juddering back into focus and Punk spied the metal above Drew's head. For a split second he thought they were both in the Cell, and that he'd taken a bad bump and passed out during their match but he soon realised that these were not the zig-zag mesh of Hell in a Cell.

These were bars!

They were both locked in some kind of cage!

Punk sat up like a shot to look around. The cage was large, more like an enclosure, and rich in foliage, wiry bushes, dirt and rocks. Punk was lying on a bed of hay in the top-most corner, under a bamboo canopy like some kind of animal in a zoo.

'Drew?' he stammered out. 'Where the hell are we?'

'I have no idea...'

The large Scot lumbered up to his feet and tentatively stepped out from under the canopy and into the make-shift forest. Behind him, Punk gawked when he noticed Drew's attire. Or lack of it! 'What are you wearing?'

Drew glanced down at the sparse shred of clothing to his name - a loin-cloth made from animal pelt draped around his waist and a metal collar around his neck. 'Same as you,' he shot back and Punk looked down and found to his horror that Drew was right. Letting out a curse, he shoved the front of his loin cloth down between his legs to give himself some decency then moved his fingers up to inspect the steel collar at his throat. It was bolted fast. The panic escalated into full-on alarm! 'What the fuck is going on?'

'Shh,' Drew hushed him, his ears pricked.

'You hear something?' Punk whispered.

'Shut up!'

Drew edged his way forward, reaching out his long arm to swipe through a clump of giant leaves and push them aside to reveal-

'JESUS CHRIST!' Drew toppled backwards with fright, landing hard on his lower back.

'FUCK!' Punk yelled, shuffling further back into his corner.

Quick as a flash Drew rushed up beside him, the two men shaking with terror. 'You saw that, right?' the Scot asked.

'Yeah,' Punk hushed out, trying to process what he had just seen. 'Yeah I saw it.'

Behind the leaves there had been a gap in the bars, filled with what looked like glass. A viewing gallery to peer into their enclosure. And there standing at the window were two figures crafted from their very nightmares. Impossibly tall and thin, something not of his world or the limits of his understanding, something that was completely...

...alien!

Suddenly a high-pitched shriek tore through Punk's head. He let out a wail as the pain screeched behind his eyes, covering his ears to try and stifle the blare.

'-creatures of P-0087453-E,' a tinny voice spoke inside Punk's very skull. 'We believe they refer to it as Earth-'

'W-what's happening?' Drew gritted out through his clenched teeth, tearing at his hair. He could hear it too!

'I don't know, I- GAH!'

'-simple creatures, not highly advanced. They can be prone to acts of violence and aggression, acting purely on their most basic urges-'

'I can hear a voice!' Punk yelled over the static in his skull. 'I think... I think it's them. Whatever they are!'

'I hear it too. How is that possible?'

'I have no idea! AAAGHHH!' The pain was growing, like somebody was blasting a badly tuned radio in his head.

'-but incredibly rare and valuable. Which is why our experts identified these two as a fertile pair and brought them here for our breeding programme-'

Punk froze. Had he really heard that right? Or did he just imagine it? Glancing up at Drew he was shocked to find the Scot looking deathly pale. He was afraid the larger man was about to keel over any second and shook him roughly by the shoulder to snap him out of his stupor. 'Hey, you ok?'

'This can't be happening! This is all some fucked up dream. This can't be-'

'-we will start our programme by activating the pheromones in the dominant male-'

Punk's stomach fell out from under him, wondering what on Earth that meant! Perhaps there was some kind of mechanism in the cage that would spray it into the enclosure? Anticipating it, he grabbed in a lungful of air and held it, waiting, listening, watching for anything to happen.

But nothing did.

He released his breath with a loud gasp, coughing oxygen back into his bloodstream. 'I think we're in the clear,' he told Drew, 'I didn't see or hear anything and I don't feel any different so-'

Drew let out a heavy grunt beside him, cutting him off and Punk turned to find the Scot shaking his head like he was trying to fend off an incoming sneeze.

'Drew? What's wrong?'

Drew's head shot up, his gaze finding Punk and fixing on him. His pupils were completely blown, erasing all the blue from his eyes. Making him resemble some kind of wild animal in the woods, a bear or wolf or... no, more like a shark circling the water, smelling fresh blood. Strong and dangerous. And hungry!

Guess he'd just found out who the so-called 'dominant male' was, and if that was Drew, then what exactly did that make Punk?

'Pheromones activated. Now all we have to do is wait and we'll hopefully see the mating rituals of this fascinating species.'

Shhhhhit! 'D-Drew?'

But the larger man wasn't listening! Settling onto his haunches like a crouched tiger, he began to stalk closer to his prey who scrabbled backwards with a yelp but where could Punk go? They were completely caged in and inevitably his spine collided with the metal bars of the cage, cutting off his retreat. Drew was on him now, mammoth arms boxing him in on either side and trapping him completely.

'Drew! Snap out of- urk!'

Punk's heart twisted with fear when Drew's bear paw found his chin, grasped it and lifted it up like he had done so many times before. The black, lifeless eyes looked him all over, Drew tilting his head slightly and giving that exact same elated smirk he'd worn back in the Cell at the first sight of Punk's blood. The hand at his chin then went for his throat, wrapping around Punk's collar and pushing him back until the base of his skull clattered against the bars.

Eyes clouded. No thoughts, only instinct.

'Drew! Hey McIntyre, listen to me!' Punk tried to break through the Scot's hysteria, tried to snap him out of this trance. 'You gotta fight it, you hear me? Fight it!'

But it was in vain. Punk's mouth was abruptly gagged by Drew's invading tongue, the larger man growling and snarling, rumbles vibrating down his throat and through their chests pressed together, while large, thick hands stroked all over Punk's shoulders and back and chest and nipples then trailed down his ribs and stomach and pelvis to-

'NO!' Punk wrenched his face to the side, freeing his mouth. His hand grabbed hold of Drew's wrist, stopping it in its tracks. 'GET OFF! STOP IT, DREW! THIS ISN'T YOU!'

And then the blue flickered back into Drew's eyes and for a brief moment, his humanity returned, only to be engulfed once again. 'No, no, no, no,' Drew pushed himself off of Punk, stumbling away. Punk, still packed tight against the bars of the cage, watched as the Scot roared in distress, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair, twisting his head from left-to-right and back again, a man trying to evade a swarm of invisible wasps.

'No,' he growled under his breath. 'No, not like this! Not this way!' Drew blinked the blue back into his eyes, holding onto himself again, however fleetingly. Then turned his attention towards the window of terror hidden away at the far end of the cage. 'No!' he spat at their captors, 'I won't!'

'-hmm, perhaps the first dose wasn't strong enough. Activating a second dosage-'

This time, Punk saw the powder puff up from Drew's metal collar, engulfing his face, and like before he struggled and writhed, trying to evade the poison but it was clinging to him, following him around the enclosure no matter how far he tried to run. His roars filled the air, Punk quaking with fear at its feral nature. Too scared to move, he watched as the huge Scotsman bent down and heaved a huge rock right up out of the ground.

'What the hell is he-?'

Drew rushed towards the observation window, the boulder raised high, meaning to throw it right through the glass and shatter it to smithereens.

'Immediate threat detected. Engaging collar!'

A loud crackle and Drew tossed his head back, screaming in agony. The boulder plunged from his arms and his body soon followed, both hitting the floor with a crash.

Punk leapt up to his feet, his heart in his throat.

'There, that should pacify him-'

But their captors grossly underestimated the fortitude of their prisoner. 'I'm no some beast in a cage,' he croaked, dragged his arms under him to push himself up, 'and you won't reduce me to one!'

'Shock him again!'

Another crackle and Drew fell onto his back, spine rigid and arched painfully off the filthy floor, howling through his gritted teeth, until the shockwave released him and all four limbs flopped, lifelessly. From his position by the bars, Punk held his breath, looking for any sign of life.

It all seemed hopeless. Until Drew rolled his hips back.

Unbelievably, he flipped up onto his feet in a perfect kip-up, just like he would in the ring and before they had a chance to shock him again, he grabbed up the boulder and launched it through the air with all his might.

'WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT!'

Drew went down with another terrible shockwave just as the boulder crashed against the glass, not shattering it but creating a crack that almost split the screen in two. Only this time, the gruelling torture didn't stop. The shocks continued, the Scot's body contorted horribly, flailing rigidly in the dirt. Punk rushed towards him, hearing the electricity running through his fellow wrestler, seeing the turmoil on his face. He looked towards that window of terror, and the creatures hidden behind the fractured spiderweb of broken glass.

'That's enough!' he yelled towards it, hoping that, by some miracle, if he could hear those things that they could hear him too. 'You'll kill him! Stop!'

But still the jolts continued, one after the other. And now Drew wasn't screaming anymore and Punk could see froth foaming at his mouth, his blue eyes rolling into the back of his head.

'I SAID THAT'S ENOUGH!'

Still nothing. Punk's head went blank with panic, desperation.

'WE'LL DO IT! WE'LL DO WHATEVER YOU WANT! JUST TURN OFF THE COLLAR FOR FUCK'S SAKE!'

And finally... the crackling stopped. Followed by dreadful silence, highlighting the heavy breathing of both men and the putrid smell of burning flesh in the air.

'Punk...'

Punk's eyes found Drew's weakly fluttering back at him, pain-filled and weak. Ringed by the tiniest sliver of blue. 'It's ok, Drew, it's alright.'

'No... don't...'

Looking around him, Punk found the perfect spot and shuffled over to a large, flat rock. Slumping down to his knees, he bent over and lay atop the cold surface, lifting his hips up into the air.

Nothing happened. He looked back to find Drew where he left him, refusing to move.

'Come on Drew, it's alright. Just do as they say.' The Scot shook his head stubbornly. 'One little fuck isn't worth killing yourself over. Anyway, isn't this what you've wanted this whole time?'

'Not like this,' Drew choked out with a sob.

'If they kill one of us, they'll kill both of us,' Punk protested. 'The only chance we have of getting out of this is by sticking together.'

But still, Drew refused to move.

Punk sighed with defeat. Turning his face away, he placed his cheek against the cold rock and whispered, 'hit him with the pheromones again.'

From behind him, he could hear Drew call 'what did you just- urgh!' Then he held his breath and waited.

It didn't take long for Drew to crawl over, sniffing like a curious beast at Punk's rear. The tattooed man flinched when his loin cloth was ripped up, exposing his open cheeks and Drew mounted him from behind, his hairy chest and stomach rubbing up against his bare back. Two huge fists wrapped around Punk's skinny wrists and held them down, keeping Punk securely pinned on his front to the rock face as Drew rubbed his sopping wet and rock hard dick between Punk's glutes, prodding his head around until it lined up against his puckered hole.

Then rammed himself in. Punk choked on a cry of pain, a terrible burning at his rectum as he was stretched wide and entered. The beast on his back hooking himself into his body, breaking through the seal and into his guts, tearing him open.

No thoughts, only instinct.

And Punk closed his eyes and tried to fight the growing ache between his own legs and Drew's hands shackling his wrists tightly, and his warm breath grunting against his ear and his sweat falling onto Punk's back and pooling in that small hollow at the base of his spine and his huge dick ravishing him again and again.

But soon the blood and the pre-cum lubricated his passage, and Drew began to move easier and the thrusts became long and powerful and struck that perfect little sweet spot deep inside of him and Punk began to hear the crackles in his own skull and see the explosions of electricity behind his own eyelids and in an instant, he forgot the cage, the window, their plight and he became lost in the throes of the delicious mix of pain and pleasure. Opening his thighs up wider to entice Drew in even further, his lips fell open and he moaned, a line of drool escaping the corner of his mouth and dripping onto the stone beneath him.

Drew began to pump in harder, scrubbing Punk's naked chest against the jagged rock and Punk was so helpless, caught in the larger man's strong grip and he couldn't help but love his helplessness, being held down and bred like a bitch in heat, all while being watched, being observed. A thought bubbled to the surface of his consciousness, wondering if he too had been hit with some kind of pheromone to muddle his senses but it fell away again when Drew hit his bundle of nerves head-on with the blunt tip of his dick. His own cock was full to bursting and it was too much to bear and when he let out a strangled cry, Drew obliged him by letting go of his wrist and grabbing him between the legs, pumping his shaft with a taut grip, the pad of his thumb teasing his slit.

'Fascinating! We always wondered how two males of this species mated and now we know it's through the-'

Punk went blind and deaf and even the blaring static in his head was drowned out as warm cum seeped into him and out of him, sopping from his wrecked hole and between his swollen cheeks and down his ragged thighs onto the dirt below. Drew collapsed onto him, nuzzling his face into the hollow between Punk's shoulder blades and kissed his flushed skin tenderly. 'S'you ok?' was all Punk's numb lips could form. Drew answered with a throaty purr.

Later, the pair were up on the hay under the canopy, Punk firmly snuggled in Drew's arms, both of them fast asleep. But something stirred the tattooed man slightly from his slumber, a tinny voice echoing around his skull.

'-a success. But this is only phase one of our breeding programme. Tomorrow we'll prep the submissive male for surgery and move into phase two-'

[maniccatra]

ok i honestly can't stop thinking about spop haha~

and i'm truly so sorry if it's blowing up anyone's feed in a way that's annoying fr dude - buuut uh

adora is this totally lovable fuckin dumb jock himbo babe imo lawl and i'm just very very gay ok like i played softball as a kid w girls like her i had gut-wrenching crushes on aight lol - and i'm sure many of ya might agree - adora legit just doesn't get emotional shit a lotta the time. like, almost literally ever tbh lol unless it's fckin just spelled out for her ok hah. like just said to her so straight up and blunt but yeah def when it is, she undeniably does care about it so so much tho.

she always has something she wants to say. whether it's an interaction w glimmer, catra, bow, anyone tbh - and it often seems to be something she thought the other person already knew but now that she knows they don't - she absolutely has to say (like "you matter to me") she's just honestly never felt like she was allowed to say that kinda stuff and omfg wth it really is so so sad. and like, i'm sure it might be obvi that i personally relate more w catra. but that doesn't change the fact that i see and appreciate adora's struggles as well tho. and tbh, i just wish i saw more of an effort for that to be reciprocated by some fans on the flip side.

like for example obvi, catra's confession in the heart in the finale - "don't you get it? i love you, i always have" like gurl implies calling out adora for her complete cluelessness right there lol but obvi in a very loving way - just like calling her "such an idiot" lmao it's this actually very sweet way of appreciating that sorta oblivious aspect to adora's personality and how cute it actually is to catra, even if sometimes it might drive her a lil crazy lol. like, c'mon tho haha

and yeah lol tbh i think them kinda being opposite sides of the same coin w their emotional issues is by design - and designed by who, might you ask? three guesses who lol, sw ofc. she provided them each w varying experiences as they grew up - and during their most formative years, mind you - that directly contributed to adora's kinda sorta emotional shut down more or less, i suppose? cause like yeah, emotions weren't something she was raised to believe she was afforded to have tbh. the ultimate way to prep a mind to become an unquestioning sacrificial soldier, imo btw.

but contrast it w catra - who has feelings so fucking loud it literally deafens her to reality in the crimson waste ep. it's called dissociation sweaty ok lol. and it can mess a person up fr. and no one deserves to feel that way, not even catra just idk if you ask me anyway

[le-higuu]

Transcription below the Read More:

Stan: wakes up disoriented, then jolts upright after realizing where he is.

Ford: "mm... Stanley?— Oh! Are you back?"

Stan: "...Yeah. I'm back."

Ford: "Do you... Remember what happened?"

Stan: "...Yeah. I..."

Stan: "I was actin' pretty weird, huh?"

Ford: "Well, sure, but you know me— weird is my specialty."

Stan: "Yeah, yeah, yuck it up."

Ford: "So, what is it like? Do you retain your adult memories? Fiddleford thought you might not, but you knew who he was, so I disagreed."

Stan: "Wow. You uh. Sure have a lot of questions. Never change, Six."

Fiddleford: I heard y'all yappin'. You back, Stan?"

Stan: "...Yeah."

Fiddleford: "Oh, good."

Ford: "So, which one of us was right?"

Fiddleford: "I ain't so sure he wants to talk about that Ford."

Ford: "Ah? Why's that?"

Fiddleford: "Well, I certainly don't wanna talk about my... episodes."

Ford: "But this is different, Fiddleford! There's so much we don't know!"

Fiddleford: "Well it ain't our business to know."

Ford: "Of course it is, I'm his brother."

Fiddleford: "Well I ain't —"

Stan: shouting, "Would'ya both shut your yaps!?"

Stan: "Look, it's just a weird thing that happens sometimes. We all had our laughs, now let's forget it. Okay?"

Ford: "...What do you mean, 'happens sometimes'?"

Fiddleford: "Ford!"

Ford: "What? This is important context!"

Stan: "HAH! Did I say that? I meant that— it— uh— happens to people. In general."

Ford: deadpan, "I have literally never experienced that before in my life."

Stan: "Well— duh— Y— YOU KNOW WHAT I MEAN!"

Fiddleford: "Well, Stan, if this were a reoccurring phenomenon, it'd help to know what might trigger it so we can avoid it in the future. Y'know— so you don't have to experience that again."

Stan: "...Right. Experience... That."

Ford: pauses for a second. "...Was it really so bad?"

Stan: "What?"

Ford: "Look, I know it's silly, and childish, and I was worried at first, but... Being able to just... pretend, for a while. Go back to when we were kids and things were so... simple."

Ford: "... I didn't hate it."

Stan: pauses for a second. "... I didn't hate it either."

Ford: "What's it like?"

Stan: collects his thoughts. "It's like... My brain just kinda goes into a fog, and I can't... think adult things? It's kinda fun sometimes, even. If I find a toy or a game to play. Sometimes it, uh... Wasn't."

Ford: "But it's not harmful to you in any way?"

Stan: "I mean... not as far as I can tell?"

Ford: "Then I see no reason for us to be concerned!"

Fiddleford: "But Ford, what if it happens while he's alone?"

Ford: "...Ah."

Stan: "Hey, don't worry about me. I've been fine on my own so far, right? Take it easy."

Ford: "But ... you haven't."

Ford: "The entire reason this happens is because you were alone for so long. And I don't want you to be just fine. Besides, it's.. partially my fault. The least I can do is support you."

Stan: "...So that's it, then?"

Ford: "What?"

Stan: "So, the only reason ya went along with this— did any of this—"

Fiddleford: "Hey, now.."

Stan: "Was because ya felt guilty? It wasn't even your fault!"

Ford: "Of course not, I—"

Stan: "Quit lyin' to me!"

Ford: "I'M NOT!"

Stan: "Yes you are! You think this is some sick science experiment, don't you?? Well, I'm not—!"

Ford: "I MISSED YOU TOO!!" Ford is hugging himself.

Ford: "I... I missed being your brother. And this— being able to laugh with you, and play, and tell stories... It was good! I... I missed that."

Stan: "... I missed it too. Ok? Why d'you think it even happens in the first place? I'm not dumb. But we can't really go back. No matter how much we want to."

Ford: "Why not?"

Ford: "Why can't we act like kids again? Don't we deserve to have that back? After everything? After everything this evil fucking world has taken from us... Don't we deserve to get something back for once?"

Stan: sniffs. "....maybe."

Ford: "Then let's figure this out. Together."

Stan: "... Wherever we go."

The brothers hug each other.

Fiddleford: thinking to himself, "Thank God they made up."

your age regressed Stan has interested me, would you be willing to do more?

very well <3

[boneyspades]

I'm not that well known that this'll be really seen but I've been thinking about this for like A WHILE-

since I'm a musician and I'm doing a music related course in uni and since the SaSi hyper fixation has me in a chokehold it got me thinking...

THE SIDES IF THEY WERE IN A BAND (or were musical artists idk)

use these for Ur band Aus or something idk

also I'm thinking of making a part 2 of like side duos and what types of songs they'd make if they collab'd so lemme know if U want that

Roman

bro would definitely would be on the vocals Ong

he'd probably know many classical instruments like violin or a flute (this is more cus of aesthetic purposes)

he'd be a PAIN to work with in the studio ngl

his way or no way, and if it's not his way he has a tanty

during sound checks or tuning other instruments he'd just riff obnoxiously (everyone would tell him to shut the fuck up)

as a solo artist he'd probably make theater like songs or just some girly pop songs

Sabrina Carpenter is his inspo (used to be Beyonce but uh..... I think we know why that isn't the case anymore)

would probably be a good person to ask for lyrics

would practice his thank you speech for Grammys even if he's not even nominated

Logan

ngl he'd be the one behind the mixing desk

if not he'd probably know piano/keys or bass since he's not the type of to be over the top (no one pays attention to the bass which SUCKS CMON GUYS-)

more fascinated on the production side of music

he's the one setting up the equipment since everyone else is "too stupid" to help (maybe besides virgil but we'll get to him soon)

by the end of a sesh he has a headache cus he has to get Roman and Remus to STOP FUCKING SCREAMING OMFG-

soloing he'd probably make lo-fi chill music to study to or something like Pink Floyd or maybe even some Radiohead songs or Billie Eilish songs

he'd research certain topics for lyrics.

WORD ASSOCIATION GAME AH RAPPING (think One Week by Barenaked Ladies)

Virgil

(ok I'm really excited to do this one since virgil and I r really similar)

bro SLAYYYYYYS the electric guitar and bass but is too nervous to really admit it or really play in front of others

has probably had many panic attacks after messing up alot (which tbh same)

helps Logan with setting up equipment (he's the only one that Logan actually trusts with it)

also knows drums??? (I'm also a drummer and he's literally me let me live my life)

DISTORTION PEDALSSSSS

virgil: "I dunno if I can do this guys like really I'm not that good I should just lea-"

patton probably: "Awh, c'mon Virgil! you got this! it's gonna be ok!

Virgil: "well i-if you say so..."

*proceeds to absolutely shred TF out of the guitar*

knows how to do vocal fry screams (metal screams) and does it alot

Remus and virgil Collab ALOT since they're kinda similar in taste

by himself he'd make emo music or any type of like emo rockish song which honestly I think is a surprise to no one

dream collaborator is Gerard way

many many stickers on his guitar

Patton

honestly doesn't really care what instrument he gets he just wants to have fun

vocals and rhythm guitar most of the time whilst virgil has lead (he's gotta let his bestie have his spotlight)

always brings snacks to the studio even tho Logan always tells him not to (he wants the studio to be nice and neat)

wants to Collab with EVERYONE (besides the obvious bad ones ofc)

if the songs they're making as a band are slow and melancholy in the slightest, the water works will start FLOWINNNG ONG

soloing he'd make kids songs or just songs that r just obnoxiously happy or marketable (or something that sounds like the Beatles)

would also write sad songs when he needs to express his feelings, thanks to virgil for giving him advice

always asking the other sides to Collab and make acoustic covers of songs (especially with Janus, virgil and Roman)

Remus

(again, excited for this one cus he my fav and also were similar)

oh god no.

hed be on drums (twinning:3) but would also know guitar

GOD HELP U IF UR EVER IN A ROOM WITH REMUS AND THERES ANY INSTRUMENT IN SAID ROOM

he is trying to make everyone annoyed by just making the LOUDEST amount of noises (He's slamming his arms on the piano rabidly, he's putting the guitar amps on full and playing all strings as hard as he can, etc)

bro hits the drums H A R D

has probably broken a kick drum a few times(it's a wheel spin on who he has pay for it between Logan, Janus and Patton)

BANNED from using the production equipment for obvious reasons.

messes with the equipment anyways

the BEST at metal vocals (taught Virgil how to do it)

sings songs but replaces the lyrics with inappropriate words

twinning with Roman, when the others r trying to sound check or tune their instruments, he's SCREAMING IN THE MICS LIKE A LUNATIC

soloing, he's either making the type of metal where the vocals r just screaming vocals where no one knows what he's saying (maybe like death metal???), the most cuntiest sex songs like Aisha erotica or just songs that sound like "I staple tapeworms on my penis" (I kid U not this is a real song, here it is for reference↓)

virgil and Remus Collab alot (I said this before but i can't help but think they're besties)

Janus

bro would be the KING of jazz in the mindscape

he'd probably do vocals, saxophone, violin, cello and keys/piano

always comes to the session late. its all about him so everyone else doesn't matter.

if one of the other sides can't make it for some reason, Janus would take their place (tho realistically all of the sides CAN mimic eachother, I feel like Janus does it better than the others since he practices ALOT more)

also messes with the equipment but doesn't go as elaborate as Remus, he just does the simple and subtle things

fights with Roman ALOT about the stupidest of things

kinda an asshole to work with depending on who U r

Logan: "hey, Janus can you just move the mic further away from you please?"

Janus: "of course.." *proceeds to purposely move the mic closer to himself just to fuck with Logan*

soloing, he'd make songs like frank Sinatra or Peggy Lee or something, just very jazzy bluesy type things.

likes to Collab with Patton but won't ever admit it (as you can tell I loved the into the unknown vid)

will ALWAYS supply the wine mostly for him and Logan cus they fucking need it-

and C!Thomas is just the manager if Logan isn't it already

and that's it idk

[dirtytransmasc]

watching the fnaf movie with my family is so strange. like... they don't know what's going on, they don't get why Micheal makes me break down in tears with how hard I'm laughing at him, they don't get why I care so much.

[thekittyokat]

you ever just have a lot, a LOT of feelings all at once about a character and not even remotely enough words or brainpower to FORM the words to describe everything you're feeling. so it feels like you may explode. yeah

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[thetardisisnotourdivision]

I am unreasonably upset about the fact that I've been forced to accept that Gabriel was a Gerald.

For context, in An Inspector Calls, Gerald Croft is engaged to Sheila Birling when he meets a homeless, struggling Eva Smith in a bar, and essentially in return for a home and money he shows her affection (ahem), then gets rid of her once he no longer has a use for her. Now, obviously this isn't a direct translation, but the essentials are - a Gerald is a character who uses another character, in return for something they need, usually masking the fact that they're using them with affection and love.

And against my will I've had to accept that this is exactly what Gabriel does to Nathalie.

Did I want to think he had potential to be better? Did I think he genuinely cared for Nathalie?? Hell, did I just really really want somebody to care about Nathalie???

Probably all of the above but the point is: he's Gerald. And I cannot - I literally can't unsee it now. Their whole dynamic in S3 is like “oh boohoo I'm sorry I wish you didn't have to use the peacock Miraculous and kill yourself over it but uh I need to use your powers” “yeah no that's fine I'm all good”. Which, given the "Gerald" theorem, I'm assuming leads to the fact that what Nathalie needed, above all, was someone to care about her - and Gabriel came along, as Sheila Birling puts it, "like a fairytale prince", and was so caring and gentle and... Yeah. She fell for him. And. Yeah he genuinely did seem to care like twice. But so did Gerald. Gerald actually admits that he did care for Eva, just not the way that she cared for him, and, uh, not enough to not just dispose of her. So he discards her anyway when she stops being useful.

Leading me neatly to my point.

He starts using the peacock Miraculous the second it's fixed, the slimy bastard, HOWEVER. It runs way deeper than that. Assuming I'm right (which I almost DEFINITELY am), then Gabriel only needed Nathalie while she was useful. She didn't stop being useful in season three - she's still scheming for him, helping him with plan after plan. It's only partway through season 5 that she officially servers ties with him, and starts to actively hinder him.

Nathalie stops being useful when she fails as Safari. And I reckon that's when Gabriel and Tomoe decided she had to go.

(It's painfully, I-was-ugly-crying-over-it obvious in Conformation that Gabriel is fully prepared to let Nathalie die - in the original storyboard, her alliance was encouraging her to sleep, and he's very obviously prepared for this moment - I've made a separate post about it that I'll link if I can find it. However, onto the next bit)

With all of this, there's one thing that sticks out to me - Nathalie didn't see any of it until it was already too late. There could be many reasons for this. But you know who would have seen through it? Whose parents were all loving and perfect until she married the wrong man? Emilie. Emilie, who left behind those videos, which on the surface look innocent, but when you look deeper look like a (love confession???????) AHEM a warning. I reckon Emilie noticed what was going on and realised that Nathalie wouldn't see through Gabriel, so she left those videos addressed to Nathalie (not Gabriel, which surely they should have been - they were about him, after all - unless they were there...) as a warning. I don't think the videos were supposed to be about helping Gabriel, I think Emilie was warning Nathalie to get the fuck out of that house, and to take Adrien with her. Because Emilie knew it'd end like this.

Yes I'm still mad ok give me a break.

[icewindandboringhorror]

sometimes looking at like Self Help Strategies lists for the symptoms I'm having is always just like:

thing that I already do

thing I have tried 10 times

thing I already do

thing that I don't have the money to do

thing I already do

thing I've been doing since I was 10yrs old to no avail

thing that is impossible given my situation

thing that doesn't apply to me

thing that I already do

thing I have already tried

hrmm, oh wait, maybe finally- OH, yeah.. okay. thing that I already do but it was just phrased slightly differently

thing I have already done

[clotpolesonly]

Blue Lily, Lily Blue ch 15 // Mister Impossible ch 25

[byanyan]

i don't experience gender envy often......... but when i do, it's fucking jungkook's fault 😤😤

[cryolyst]

~

[jellybeanium124]

-> open steddyhands fic -> author's saying all the right things -> explicit confirmation that ed's not a violent person -> izzy owning up to an acknowledging his wrongs, taking full blame for what happened between him and ed -> all three of them are shifted in just the right little ways to make the ship work, in my exact favorite flavor -> glance at kudos section -> see handles of people who have written just the worst ofmd meta ever, posts that have the exact opposite takes to this fic, just famously awful canyoners -> y'all like this??????????????????

[momentomori24]

There's was a massive ass spider I spotted in the kitchen and has up and vanished. So on top of everything else going on, it seems like I won't be getting any sleep until I get that thing before my siblings wake up. Great 💀👍

Btw I managed to capture a picture of the intruder before they managed to completely disappear so no I'm not having sleep deprived delusions. I'd call this a wanted poster and put out a bounty, but it's unfortunately in my house soooooo..... yeah. Sucks to suck. Sucks to be me. I hate everything.