#this is a huge problem and it’s only getting worse

[revelboo]

I reread some of your stories and was wondering if there was an update on "Time Turned Fragile" (feel free to ignore if you don't feel like it).

I also want to say that I love your stories so much, I'm embarrassed to admit I spend most of my days checking for updates. Thank you for feeding us with these beautiful stories.

Thank you! I’m glad you like my nonsense!

Time Turned Fragile Pt 3

TFA Bulkhead x Reader

• “You can’t! I need those,” Sari whines, grabbing your arm to try and stop you. “Buuuuulk.” And you both turn to stare up at the huge bot as he fidgets, servos tapping together nervously. Eyes narrowing, you cross your arms and Bulkhead looks like he’s about to run from the room to avoid having to be the authority figure here.

• “You need three bags of cookies and seven different types of candy? No one needs this,” you counter. And he shifts on his peds as you both stare up at him. Why is this his decision? Servos tapping nervously, half tempted to pretend he hears Optimus calling him and just run. “Why bring me here if you’re not going to listen to me?”

• “I don’t need a babysitter,” Sari groans, grabbing for the junk food. And you’re beginning to see the problem here, betting Bulkhead isn’t the only one unable to tell the kid no. She’s obviously used to getting her way. Big guy looks like he’s in physical pain, optics darting from you to Sari. Making you realize he’s going to cave even before he reaches up to rub at the back of his neck.

• “Maybe a little candy is okay?” Bulkhead suggests, looking uncomfortable. And you sigh as he reaches out to pluck a bag of candy out of your hands and gives it back to Sari. Because of course he does. And she sticks her tongue out at you before running for it with her loot.

• “Way to back me up, big guy,” you mutter, tone disappointed to make him feel worse. But he was going to make one of you unhappy and you’ve got most of the junk food, so maybe you’re not going to be that upset with- nope, you’re upset. Hates as you scowl at him, wanting to hide from you. “You realize there’s no food here that isn’t full of dye and sugar? You guys are just feeding her garbage, you know that, right?” He hadn’t known that, but now he does.

Previous

[kittyyclysm]

ok i have a bone to pick with these clothes (no actual spoilers just mentions of small things that happened in the ep)

I don't think Adrien should have this marketable design this far back. Personally I've always thought the reason Adrien has to wear the same thing everyday is because it's a "marketable" design so Gabriel makes him wear it. It makes him recognizable and iconic, and... apparently these multicolored stripes are the most marketable design Gabriel could come up with. But let's just pretend this is the case (since I could be wrong). Writing-wise, I don't think he should have started marketing Adrien as a model since he popped out of the womb.

It would be SO much more interesting and make a lot more sense if Gabriel only started this whole marketability stunt when his ideologies about fashion changed and we could slowly see this design take over Adrien's wardrobe. This 6-year-old shirt could have been a picture of how Gabriel used to treat Adrien and how Adrien used to actually be able to express himself, and it would've gone so well with the Papa Corn thing to show that Gabriel used to be a decent dad.

In Representation in Felix's little theatre-kid play, he described Gabriel's clothes as "clothes so magnificent that they revealed the beauty of anyone who wore them" (12:57). In that case, we can assume he has a fashion ideology similar to Marinette's: fashion is meant to let people express themselves. But we see that that ideology has changed in Pretension, when Gabriel and Marinette talk over pancakes... Gabriel says, "Life is like fashion. You think you have a choice but all you have is the illusion of choice, and I decide what choices are given to you. [...] Fashion is a product, a marketing strategy, an industry that relies on an uninterrupted trend renewal that forces you to either throw away everything you have and buy more or, worse, be out of fashion" (6:41). That last bit is after Marinette describes fashion as understanding people and creating things that will help them express themselves, which, again, seems to be the old ideology Gabriel had.

That being said, Gabriel's old clothes for Adrien should have reflected that ideology rather than totally... contradicting it??? Forcing him into that marketable clothing would have reflected his current ideology of fashion. Now, what pushed him to that new idea? I think that's probably when he wanted to start making more money. Specifically, I think he would have locked in on designing fashion as "a product" when Emilie started to get sick and he was going on all those trips to find cures. It couldn't have been cheap and it would make sense he would lock in for that... and we also know he wasn't a fashion millionaire before since, again in Felix's little play, we find out that he was still poor when he and Emilie married. He could have started corrupting the idea of fashion before Emilie started getting sick, but really I don't think that would happen for no reason unless Emilie had that same ideology. That's completely up in the air, though I doubt the show would go for that complex take of "Adrien's mom actually wasn't that great either" with its Marinette Mary Sue problem and all... I'm not sure what her ideology on fashion would be though, or if she even has a solid view of it. Anyway, I really think Gabriel would have only picked up on that ideology to make bank to try and save Emilie, and I think Adrien would be one of the last things he'd turn into a product since he's an extension of Emilie.

So yeah!! I think the shirt should have been different. A hint of the past where Gabriel treated Adrien as more of a kid instead of a product and those old ideologies he used to have, since one of the huge points of his character is that he used to be some normal, assumedly reasonable guy, but he went off the deep-end. It also would've went well with the Papa Corn bit. And it would have shown how his life was better with Emilie, even if it was something as subtle as wardrobe choice. AND (last and) given that little timeline of him having to lock in on designs in a desperate attempt to save his wife!!!

And likeeee... how cute would a matching frog onesie be????

rant over!!!

i have a lot more thoughts i have to post on the earlier series and even the current series but i may go back through and rewatch to give those!!! but these thoughts stand on their own so i decided to write it down

obligatory thank you to my roomie @baldisfan for getting me into mlb and watching this ep together 💞💞💞and for letting me yap this idea to her as she lets me yap all my ideas tehe

anyway would love 2 hear ur guys' thoughts on this too!!!

[dronebiscuitbat]

Oil is Thicker Then Blood: Polarity- Chapter 3: A Long Day

https://archiveofourown.org/works/64077811/chapters/167453419

A sheet of paper full of equations is placed in front of her, after a lecture about the order of operations and how to access the computing portion of their processors to make this trivial, they were super advanced computers after all.

And yet…

Tera stared down at the paper with a pencil in her hand, reading the first question over and over and over again, it was easy, or should have been. Simple long devision as a warm up before the harder questions. All she had to do was… compute.

Her brain-her processors attempted to calculate the numbers, only to freeze halfway through like an ancient machine running on the worlds shittiest hard drive. The numbers seemed to change the longer she looked at them, 5’s becoming 3’s and 6’s becoming 9’s. A nervous sweat started to appear on her visor, instead now trying to solve the problem organically, writing down the equation on paper and working to solve it that way. That didn’t work either, the numbers floated off the page to become unintelligible runes.

She may as well have been trying to decipher hieroglyphs.

She groaned and threw her head back.

An hour later, the paper was slammed back down on her desk with a big fat red 45% etched in huge letters on the corner. She wasn't sure if getting a 0 would be better, or worse, then at least she could claim she was just stupid. But getting something right using the incorrect formula just confused her further.

She grumbled, and stuffed it in her bag with a growl.

Rad took a single look her and chortled. “I think teach just likes to bleed all over your papers dude. I know you can't be that bad.”

It was intended to cheer her up, but it really didn't, she was a robot! A computer! Her building blocks were in fucking binary! What computer couldn't do the thing they were named after- compute?!

So she just sighed. “Just shut up man…”

Rad pouted for a moment, before his eyes lit up, if it was any more obvious he'd gotten an idea, a big green light bulb would have popped up over his head. “Bet I can beat you in a race to biology.”

Tera's tail perked up as she gathered her things, a smirk replaced a frown. “Not a chance man, I'm way faster!”

“Prove it Lucky Bat!” And with that, he raced down the hall as fast as his hydrolic powered legs could carry him.

He knew he wasn't going to win.

And when he felt the wind of Tera sprinting ahead rush past him, all he could do was laugh as the purple blur rushed inside the next class, startling several other students who gave the solver drone a nasty look as she blasted past them.

“Hah! Fuck ye-SHIT!”

Kiara was at her desk, supposedly waiting for her, her eyelights go hollow as Tera barrels towards her and the worker braces for impact with her best freind.

Tera pumps the breaks hard and fast, she can feel herself skidding across the polished stone floor, she holds her hands out to try and salvage the situation and-

She stops a hairs breath from her, panting as her arms brush against Kiara's arms, the plan being to grab her and then stop them both to avoid hurting her.

Now though it's just a slightly awkward half-hug.

Tera gulps and her visor flushes a neon flavored purple.

“Y-you okay?” She asked through her throat near closing in embarrassment, she probably needed to back up, or at least let go before asking… but she wouldn't be a Doorman if she wasn't painfully awkward.

Kiara blinked, still processing the fact she wasn't melted slag stuck to the floor before she looks up with a smile. “I'm fine! Little bit of a close one there yeah?”

Tera grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of her head as she stepped back. “Sorry, Rad challenged me to a race and…”

“…you can't say no to a challenge?” The worker giggled. “I figured. Looks like you won though.” Her eyes flicker to the doorway.

Rad came in panting, smiling, but panting. “Oh man… have you gotten even faster? It's like you teleported!” His vents kick up to max trying to cool him off, and he rests his hands on his knees. “Dang.”

Tera smirked. “You're just a slowpoke.”

Kiara brought her attention back with a featherlight touch to her arm, Tera tried to ignore the shock that passed up through her sensors.

“I need your help.” She spoke quietly. “Mrs. Finley gave us homework about Nightstalkers and I completely forgot about it!” Kiara pouted, looking a little ashamed of herself.

“You? Forgetting homework? How scandalous.” Tera quipped back, laughing when Kiara pouted even more.

“I… had a rough night.” The worker replied softly, rubbing her shoulder and looking away, Tera felt like she just swallowed acid.

“Yeah. I can help. Mrs.Finley gives us 15 minutes to look over it before asking for it anyway. Pull up your chair.” Tera replied, smiling down. “No copying though, that would be unethical.” She parrots her best freinds words and the worker smacks her lightly. “You!”

“Thank you…”

Tera turns back to look at Rad. “You forget yours too?”

He blinked stupidly. “Forget what?”

Tera sighed. “Pull up a chair String Bean.”

They both pull up thier chairs on either side of Tera's desk, which was luckily large enough to uncomfortably fit them all.

Rad dug out a crumpled paper from his bag, laughing warily when Kiara eyed him like he'd committed murder, Tera pulled out her completed work, along with a little leather bound journal.

“Rad you can just copy. You're not going to read it anyway.” Tera says deadpan, and the young man grins and begins copying the answers down in barely legible chicken scratch.

Then she turns to Kiara. “Alright, first question…”

How large to Nightstalkers get?

She opens her journal to a page of notes, accompanied by a rough sketch of a nightstalker.

“So they average around 20 feet in height fully grown, not counting the horns or you'd add another 2, I don't think Mrs. Finley counts them, or just would prefer the easier to remember number for us.” Tera points to where she'd jotted down their heights.

“I've never seen one that big…” Kiara writes it down, but looks up at Tera to explain.

“Their deeper in the jungle… plus that's what we have hunting parties for, V doesn't really let one that big stick around if it does wander towards us.”

When are Nightstalkers at their most deadly?

“I know that one! They get really hormonal and angry when they become teenagers… soo.” The worker taps a pen on her cheek. “What age is that?”

“2 and a half usually.” Tera answers.

The fat on the top of a Nightstalkers back is both armor and heat regulation, it is called what?

“Blubber.”

Kiara laughs. “That's not a real word.”

“I promise it is, and it's right.” Tera replies. “You haven't tried to drive a blade through that, it may as well be steel.”

They continue, Kiara asking questions, trying to actually learn the material while Tera answers with either a note from her hunting journal or a quick anecdote. All with the background noise of Rad furiously scribbling.

They finish just in time for Mrs. Finley to walk in, 15 minutes after the bell rang.

“Alright everyone. Hand me your homework and we'll get started, the next species we'll be focusing on is the Deersheep…”

Kiara and Rad scooted thier chairs back to where they should've been- to the desks either side of her.

Text flickered up on Kiara's visor. [THANK YOU!]

Rad chuckled. “Cheers Dude.”

Tera leaned back and smiled, handing up her paper to the teacher now doing laps around the classroom to collect the work, she pauses at Rads. “Mr. Hayes.”

“Yes'm?”

“Why have you written down Miss Doorman’s name in place of your own?

Tera facepalmed. Kiara rolled her eyes. Rad smiled like a dead man. “Ahah…”

Mrs.Finley's bright blue eyelights trailed over to Tera. “Did you know about this?”

Tera wracked her brain quickly. “We did a study group together, he must have done it as a joke when we were talking about how he often forgets to write his name.”

The blue eyelights narrowed, she brushed a hand though her tightly spun and frazzled brown hair, and she sighed.

“If I didn't have multiple nameless papers from you. Mr. Hayes, I wouldn't believe her. Don't do it again.”

After she walks away towards her desk, Rad untested. “Woo… saved my life there…” He said quietly.

“I can't belive you wrote my name! You dumbass!” Tera gave an incredulous and amused smile. “You could've gotten me in trouble too!” She whisper-yelled.

The rest of the day was long, tedious, and sufficiently boring enough to put her on autopilot, sure she was present for her freinds but… anywhere else. Mind off somewhere in the jungle and outwardly expressing that classic Doorman brand resting bitch face.

At lunch, they were let out into the cafeteria and served deep fried copper nuggets, bolts, and a side of batteries. Which Tera inhaled like a starving animal before her two freinds even had a chance to touch thiers.

“Dude.”

“Slow down your gonna choke!”

Her two respective freinds called out, but she didn't listen, licking her lips in satisfaction. “Ahhh~”

To finish it off, she reached into her pocket to pull out a dented and well worn silver canteen, gulping down sweet and tangy oil like it was drops of heaven.

She pulled off it when it was half empty, wiping her mouth of the excess.

In all honesty… she was still hungry.

Though she was always hungry nowadays.

“Vampire.” Rad coughed.

“It comes from the ground. I'm not a fucking vampire!” Tera immediately protested. “You eat the soup at the food court! It's the same thing!”

Kiara giggled, Rad teased poor Tera about that every chance he got. She had to be sick of it by now…

She hummed to herself as she finished out a sketch of a lion, as realistic as one could without never seeing one outside of pictures and ancient documentaries, she began to shade it so the fur looked black, letting Tera and Rads bickering become white noise.

More classes, more work; right after lunch she still had Rad and Kiara in an advanced English class, where the focus was more on the history of linguistics and the written word then reading comprehension- when your whole student body can take screenshots with thier eyes; you stop worrying about retaining information organically.

But afterwards, she was alone in an architectural engineering class that was more numbers and measurements then actually building things and she was back to slamming her head against the wall in frustration, doubled because now… the math was applied.

She did well in the practical projects like build a bridge out of sticks, or make a model pully that works under a specific weight threshold. She could trial and error that, and she was really good at eyeballing measurements even if she was shit at exact numbers- but the second she had to figure out exactly what degrees a triangle needed to be to support X amount of weight she wanted to eat the damn paper.

“Ugh…”

She crossed her arms, and tuned out of the lecture, instead spacing out while looking vaguely forward to give the illusion that she was still paying attention.

Maybe you have so much trouble because you refuse to actually pay attention.

A monotone and robotic mockery of her own voice whispered, she'd have winced at the suddenness of it if it wasn't wholly expected at this point. She ignored it.

Or maybe you're just an idiot.

That's okay though… smarts would be wasted on a killing machine.

She growled, tightening her fist but giving the entity that lived in her head no response.

At least until she blinked, and suddenly she was standing at the front of the classroom, drones screaming in fear as they tried to get out of the door in a panic. She blinked in confusion for a moment before her eyelights went hollow.

Hanging limp in her now, fleshy, bladed claws was Mr. Riker, Oil bathing her arm and pooling all over the floor, the smell was intoxicating, ever present, and assaulted her olfactory receptors like a persistent tagalong.

She jumped, the movement making the lifeless corpse slide off her bladed fingers and into a heap on the floor, she began to hyperventilate. The word “no” repeating from her lips like a mantra as she backs herself into a corner trembling like a leaf.

“No no- I didn't, I don’t know- I'm sorry!”

“Miss Doorman!”

Slam!

She's startled awake by Mr. Riker slamming a book on her desk, making her yelp in fear, a yellow solver symbol dissappearing from her eyelight. She pants, taking in the students staring at her, some snickering, before her eyelights flickered back up to the drone she just skewered.

“I know buttresses are boring, but please refrain from falling asleep in my class.”

A chorus of giggles passed through the classroom lile a wave.

The teacher rolled their eyes and left her be, which was good, because once all the eyes were off her again she let out a shaky breath and looked down at her hands, normal, even with the animal-like pads on her hands given by the solver.

She squeezed them into fists and sighed, burying her head in her hands and wanting to scream.

Instead she went back to staring at the front, stress lines under her eyes as her mind returns to silence.

She comes out of the classroom hunched over and emotionally drained, tail limp and half dragging across the floor like a zombie. She takes her canteen and drinks the rest of the oil to try and relax her… anything.

“Ter!” Kiara calls from the front door of the school, the day for the upperclassmen being over to go to their field training. Her eyelights looked up, tail perking up a little.

“I'm heading to the clinic for my last two hours, but…I was wondering if you saw my messages?”

Oh crap!

“I did! I can take you and Rad out past the walls this weekend if you want! It's just been a… weird day. Sorry.”

Kiara's eyes lit up. “Really! Awesome! Thank you, Thank you!” She pushed forward to wrap the solver drone in a tight hug. She found herself smiling, despite it all.

“Yeah yeah… keep quiet about it, you know I'm not supposed to…”

Kiara nodded, releasing her and fluttering out the door with a wave. Tera sighed as she leaned against the doorway to outside. Watching her leave.

…and off to the barracks for her field training.

[caffedrine]

Keith Howell Sequel 03 - Fan Translation

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this fan translation, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

Keith: “...”

Before he knew it, he was in a dense forest.

This was the only place where Keith and the other one could exchange words, but tonight, thick clouds obscured the light, making it dim.

Neither of them knew which heart was being expressed.

――――From the looks of it, nothing seems to have changed.

Keith: “Yeah. Time will gradually help with recovery, but things aren't getting better.”

Keith: “...No, I feel like it's becoming increasingly difficult to talk to you like this.”

Keith: “Before, if I wished, I could definitely see you.”

――――—So it's correct to say things are "getting worse."

Keith: “...How long will this situation continue?”

Keith: “Because the problem is so specific, no matter how much I search for a solution, I can’t find one.”

――I’ve read through dozens of medical books, and in the end, it only ended with more knowledge gained.

――I might as well become a doctor alongside being a herbalist, huh?

Keith: “As long as I think I’ve gained useful knowledge to help you, I won’t be in despair.”

Keith: “Emma... we need to resolve this quickly... for her sake too.”

――She is probably already aware that we’re hiding something.

――――—I reacted to his gross pranks so obviously, after all.

A self-deprecating smile fell in the forest, and a silence that felt similar to hesitation flowed between the two.

Keith: “When you pointed our sword at Kagari... was it not for intimidation but something serious?”

――There’s no need to hold back against someone who sends killing intent toward my fiancée.

Keith: “Yeah. I would have surely done the same.”

Keith: “But at that time, you were instinctive. You instinctively switched with me...”

Keith: “Normally, you wouldn’t fall for such an obvious prank. That’s been troubling me a bit.”

――――Be lenient with me, Prince Keith. I don’t trust that cat as much as you do.

Keith: “I was also not very keen on having her accompany us to Kougyoku.”

―――...It’s better than leaving her behind in Jade though.

Another brief silence arrived.

The other self in front of me suddenly looked this way.

The wavering in his eyes, which looked like uncertainty or the reaction to repression, stirred the leaves of the trees with a strong wind.

―――Are you happy right now?

Keith: “Why are you asking something so sudden? Of course I am.”

――――Don’t look at me with such a puzzled face. I’m just asking.

Keith: “...Aren’t you?”

....—

After unexpectedly encountering Kagari Amagase, they were guided to a magnificent red-tiled castle.

And when night fell—

Keith: “Mm...”

In the guest room bed assigned to him, Keith stirred and opened his eyelids.

Emma, who was in his arms, was still in a dream, smiling sleepily at him.

Keith: “So cute...”

Keith: “...”

Keith: “………………………………I’m probably looking too much. I should stop soon.”

He sat up and surveyed the guest room, as if pulling on threads of memory.

The eyes peeking out from under his heavy bangs gradually showed relief, and a breath escaped his lips.

Keith: “I’m okay. But just to be safe...”

Emma: “Mmm...”

Keith: “...!”

Keith's large body jumped slightly at Emma’s voice.

When he looked over, her eyelids were still closed, and her hands were patting left and right on the bed, as if searching for something.

As if trying to find something, Keith gently extended his hand toward her.

The small hand touched his large hand, and the moment it did, she grabbed his thick arm as if to say she had found it...

Keith: “Whoa...”

With a strong tug, she pulled Keith back on the bed. Emma was drawn into her fiancé's arms and began to quietly breathe in her sleep again.

Keith: “...”

Keith: “...”

Keith: “...Emma, you’re so cute.”

Unable to hold back, he stroked Emma’s head and kissed her forehead.

With his eyes and lips softened, Keith gazed at her lovingly, embodying happiness...

Keith: “...I’m happy, Emma.”

His voice seemed to dissolve into the quiet room, as if checking for something.

Later

(Yup, I feel like I’m getting used to this. Today is put together well too.)

(Finally, let’s finish this up...)

I tidied myself up and, for the finishing touch, picked up the small perfume bottle he had placed on the dresser.

(Hmm...?)

Suddenly feeling a gaze, I looked up to find Keith's smiling face in the mirror.

Keith: “Ah, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare; I just thought you’d wear it again today.”

Emma: “I wear it every day. It’s my favorite perfume.”

Keith: “Thank you.”

Keith: “Everyone has different scent preferences, and feelings about scents vary, so I’m really happy to hear you say that.”

I lowered my gaze to the delicate and cute perfume bottle topped with a flower-shaped cap.

This perfume was something Keith gave me before I left Jade.

(I was surprised to hear it was handmade by Keith...)

(If the ingredients are plant-based, I wouldn’t be surprised if he could make anything.)

I opened the cap, took a small amount of perfume on my finger, and applied it to my neck. The sweet scent of fruits and flowers wafting through the air made my lips naturally smile.

Emma: “Since the first time I encountered this scent, it has become one of my favorites.”

Emma: “When I wear it, it’s like I can always feel you, Keith...”

Emma: “It’s very calming, similar to the gentle scent when you hugged me.”

Keith: “Eh... Ah... I didn’t know you thought of it like that.”

Which option will you choose?

It’s a joke.

Please forget what I just said.

That was a strange thing to say.

As the blush spread across Keith's face, my own cheeks began to heat up as well.

(What am I saying on the second day in Kougyoku...? I might still be half-dreaming.)

Emma: “I said something strange.”

Keith: “‘While wearing it, it feels like I can always sense you, Keith...’”

Keith: “‘It’s very calming, similar to the gentle scent when I was hugged by you,’ right?”

(He remembers every single word...!?)

Keith: “I don’t think it’s strange at all. If anything, I was so elated I almost fainted from those words.”

Keith: “But I might have given the role of comforting you to the perfume... I thought that just a little.”

Keith: “Sorry for saying something selfish. I was the one who made a strange statement.”

(All of his words are unfair.)

Emma: “Please don’t worry. The role of hugging is something only you can do, Master Keith.”

As I spread my arms wide, Master Keith came close and hugged me tightly.

Keith: “You have a knack for making me feel elated, Emma. It’s a bit troubling.”

(That’s on you, Keith.)

Clearing my throat softly to disperse the embarrassing atmosphere, the soft fragrance brushed my nose, soothing my heart once again.

(I’m sure various flowers and plants blooming in the Jade castle were used in this.)

(So that's why I feel so relieved.)

It seems that Keith’s important place has also become a dear and comfortable place for me, and I couldn’t be happier.

(Well...)

Suddenly recalling yesterday’s events, my lips opened once more...

Emma: “Speaking of which...”

Emma: “I heard that you’re friends with Kagari, but were you friends since childhood?”

Emma: “From the interaction between the two of you in the city, I sensed a friendly atmosphere, and I was curious about it.”

Keith: “That’s right. I think I met Kagari around when I was ten years old.”

Keith sat down in a chair beside the dresser, narrowing his eyes as if tracing threads of memory.

Keith: “I think we’re still close enough to exchange letters from time to time.”

Keith: “Sorry, I should have communicated that beforehand.”

Emma: “I was also so caught up in matters of state and diplomatic preparations that I hadn’t heard much about Kagari.”

Emma: “You first met in Kougyoku, right?”

Keith: “No, actually it was in Jade.”

Keith: “The king, worried about my frailty, asked the head of the Amagase royal family to train me.”

Keith: “I learned various martial arts from Kagari, who came to visit.”

Keith: “I think the reason we became friends was that we ate dorayaki together.”

Emma: “Fufu, that sounds so heartwarming.”

(Imagining young Keith eating dorayaki... he must have been adorable.)

Emma: “I’m starting to crave dorayaki now.”

Keith: “Then let’s go eat some. I’ll ask for the location of Kagari’s shop later.”

Emma: “Kagari’s shop?”

Keith: “Yeah. Kagari runs a sweet shop with a ridiculously wide variety of dorayaki.”

Emma: “Is that so!? I’m looking forward to it in many ways.”

(The second prince of the royal family, Yasha Kagari, running a sweet shop...)

(He’s becoming more and more of a mysterious person to me.)

~Flashback~

Kagari: “Shall I teach you? I’m used to being a teacher.”

Alter!Keith: “I’m not your student.”

(With those words... Kagari is both a friend and a martial arts teacher.)

~End Flashback~

Emma: “So, Kagari was involved in your training, Keith.”

Emma: “I’m curious about what kind of training you underwent. Please tell me more about it soon.”

Keith: “...Yeah, of course.”

(Huh... did his voice just drop a little...?)

Keith: “To put it in one word, it was hell.”

Emma: “Hell...”

Keith: “It was an intensive training program, covering everything from basic physical fitness to martial arts, swordsmanship, archery, spear techniques...”

Keith: “It was all so demanding that every time I felt like fainting during training, I had to be slapped on the cheek to wake me up.”

(That’s definitely the kind of Spartan training that deserves the name "hell.")

(But... )

Keith: “Even after showing such a disgraceful side of myself, he didn’t look down on me and stayed with me until the end...”

It was clear from Keith's voice that the harsh training had also become a cherished memory for him.

Keith: “He’s often called Yasha or a battle maniac and feared, but Kagari is a kind-hearted person.”

Emma: “From what you’ve said, I feel the same way about him.”

Emma: “I want to deepen my interaction with Kagari as much as possible during this diplomacy.”

Keith: “He can be surprisingly chatty, so if you approach him, I think he’ll be happy.”

Keith: “Ah, but...”

Emma: “? What is it?”

Keith: “I’d be glad if I could be with you when you deepen those interactions...”

Keith: “I’m sorry, just imagining it made me jealous.”

After finishing breakfast, I was making the final touches to my appearance in front of the mirror, as we were about to get a tour of the castle.

(Alright, nothing seems out of place.)

Just as I was about to head toward where Keith was waiting in the hallway...

(Oh...)

~Flashback~

Keith: “I’m sorry, just imagining it made me jealous.”

~End Flashback~

Suddenly, a cabinet with a red theme caught my eye.

Emma: “Keith, thank you for waiting.”

Keith: “Welcome back. Are you warmed up?”

Emma: “Yes, the bath had a cherry blossom scent, and it was very soothing.”

Emma: “Oh... were you working?”

Keith: “No, it’s nothing major.”

Keith: “I just finished writing, so I’m going to hop in too.”

Drawn to the cabinet, I quietly approached it and opened the first drawer.

There was a quill pen, a small bottle of ink—and a notebook.

Emma: “...”

My heart beat uncomfortably.

Until recently, Keith and Alter!Keith had been communicating through notes and through Liam. But now, they could talk directly and they could share thier memories with each other.

Still, I knew that even gentle Keith sometimes wrote in his diary out of anxiety.

Even though it’s anxiety, it’s trivial and dear, reminding me of the time I learned about from Alter!Keith.

When my hesitant hand touched the edge of the notebook...

(……………!)

My heart and body jumped strangely at the sound of knocking.

Keith: “Is something wrong, Emma?”

Emma: “Sorry, I’m coming!”

(I worried him by taking so long to come out...)

I hurriedly returned the notebook to its original place and closed the drawer.

(...I’m sorry)

I wasn't even sure what my apology in my heart was for...

Shaking off my unease, I hurried towards Keith.

The castle of King Kuga was much larger in both height and width than I had imagined.

In the training hall, I learned the reason for the strength of the swordsmen through their intense training...

In the clinic, I saw the herbs brought by Jade being put to great use, feeling proud...

In the courtyard, I gasped at the beauty of the cherry blossoms in full bloom.

Everywhere I went, my curiosity and sense of exploration were piqued, and it felt as if Keith, who was next to me, looked at me with affectionate eyes again and again.

Finally, as I waited for Lady Kagari, who would guide me to meet King Kuga––

Keith: “Emma.”

Emma: “! Yes, what is it?”

I caught a glimpse of Keith's face appearing in my sight.

Keith: “Can I touch your hand?”

Emma: “Of course.”

(What could this be……………?)

As his large hand enveloped mine, he began to press the center of my palm and the middle of my wrist.

The sensation and warmth reminded me of a memory.

Keith: “I read in a book that pressing here can relieve tension.”

Keith: “Since you looked a bit tense after getting off the carriage, I was concerned…”

Keith: “I'm sorry if this surprised you, being so sudden.”

(Just like when he helped me relieve my tension at Sonia’s party...)

(It's warm and feels nice)

With nostalgia and affection, my heart sweetly raced.

Emma: “Thank you.”

I finally realized that I had been holding unnecessary tension in my body.

Emma: “I’m sorry, I’ve been so tense since coming to Kougyoku.”

Keith: “It’s not a bad thing to be tense.”

Keith: “It’s also a sign of wanting to do your best.”

Keith: “You don’t have to rush to get used to it, and it’s okay not to feel anxious about not getting used to it.”

Keith: “So when you feel tense, I want you to rely on me. I’ll help you relax in various ways.”

He said it with just a bit of pride and began gently pressing my hand again.

(Every time I feel Keith's care, I wonder if it’s alright to be loved and cherished this much.)

(Keith’s love feels boundless.)

~Flashback~

Keith: “Emma, because you’ve been by our side, we’ve been able to overcome any difficulties and hardships.”

Keith: “...Thank you for saying you want to participate together.”

Alter!Keith: “If you were to get hurt again... well, maybe locking you in a room wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

Alter!Keith: “At first, it would be boring, but if you repeat it, it will turn into a normal daily routine.”

(...)

Keith: “Emma?”

(Alter!Keith ✋ Gilbert)

~Flashback~

Before I realized it, I was holding Keith’s hand with both of mine.

Imitating him, I pressed on his palm and wrist.

Emma: “This is a return for relieving my tension.”

Emma: “I... I want to convey that I love and cherish you all just as much as you always care for me, Keith.”

Keith: “Eh...?”

He looked surprised and seemed to be thinking about it.

Emma: “Well... Keith, you always concern yourself with me and support me.”

Emma: “But I feel like I’m just receiving your kindness without being able to return anything...”

Emma: “That’s why I thought I wanted to at least express it properly in words.”

(... What am I doing? I’ve been too indirect, and I've only perplexed Keith...)

A memory flashed in my mind of that day when I saw dark emotions hidden deep in his golden eyes.

(I’m still unable to sort out my own feelings, yet here I am, rushing to understand his.)

The awkwardness in the flowing silence intensified.

I have to say something. I need to distract him. I became aware of the words swirling in my head.

(Even though I wanted to know, it seems I’m scared to touch Keith’s heart.)

Keith: “...Emma—”

Kagari: “Ahem, ahem.”

(Kagari, realizing he's not prepared to be one of the many people Keith and Emma forget are there while they engage in PDA)

Keith and Emma: “! ”

Kagari: “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

Keith and Emma: “Don’t worry about it at all!”

“Please don’t mind us!”

Kagari: “You two are quite in sync.”

(I can’t believe Kagari saw that... How embarrassing.)

The awkwardness quickly morphed into shame, and my face felt like it was burning with heat.

Emma: “I’m so sorry for not noticing.”

Kagari: “I’ll forgive you since I saw something rare.”

Keith: “I don’t think it was rare, though…”

(So it seems he wasn't displeased. Thank goodness...)

(And it might have helped a little that he came at this moment.)

If it had continued like that, I would have gotten stuck deeper and troubled Keith even more.

Kagari: “I’ll guide you to the throne room. Follow me.”

Keith and Emma: “Thank you.”

Keith and Emma: “Thank you very much.”

Kagari: “You're in sync again. You two are such good friends.”

Prince Kagari turned his back and began to walk away.

Keith: “Emma.”

Emma: “Yes?”

In an effort to maintain my composure, I noticed Keith leaning down slightly to meet my gaze. His fingers intertwined with mine felt cold but pleasant, conveying my own body’s warmth.

Keith: “I was happy to hear your words just now.”

Keith: “But there’s one thing... saying you haven't been able to return anything is incorrect.”

Keith: “Rather, it’s me who hasn’t been able to repay you.”

Keith: “I receive a lifetime’s worth of happiness from you every day. Even while we’re making eye contact like this.”

Emma: “That’s such an exaggeration.”

Keith: “It’s true. The fact that I’m here now, as 'me,' was created by your existence.”

Keith: “For me, happiness cannot be achieved without you, Emma.”

Keith: “So please don’t feel anxious. Your feelings and words... they are reaching me.”

Keith: “Thank you for helping me relieve my own tension.”

He gently lowered the corners of his eyes and placed a kiss on the back of my hand.

Keith: “Well then, let’s go. Before Kagari calls out to us again.”

Emma: “Yes... Thank you very much, Keith.”

He took my hand, guiding me as we began to walk.

(I have no idea what Keith was about to say earlier.)

(But I have a feeling he was trying to ease my anxiety.)

(...I've received something once again.)

Keith: “So please don’t feel anxious. Your feelings and words... they are reaching me.”

(...He might be able to see into my heart.)

(It's time to meet the king. I need to switch my mindset.)

After repeating my thanks and apologies to Keith in my mind many times,

(This way it feels...)

[silvermoon424]

I know that journalists and newspapers need to make money but the paywalling has gotten ABSURD.

Just a few years ago, most paywalled newspapers let you read a certain number of articles for free every month. So like, you would be granted 5 free articles every month and once you ran out then you’d be paywalled. Nowadays I can’t click on a New York Times or Forbes or Washington Post article without IMMEDIATELY being told I need to pay for a subscription.

I knew it’s been bad for a while but I was so angry the other day because I was trying to give a conservative family member links to reputable articles about how many Americans needlessly suffer and die due to the US healthcare insurance system. And I had to keep digging because SO MANY ARTICLES were paywalled right off the bat.

Do you think Fox News ever paywalls people? Or any other far right news outlet? No wonder people are getting radicalized when the truth is actively being kept behind a paywall.

[itspileofgoodthings]

.

[nerdysk8s]

Baby P is loving his crib. I've been able to sleep in again because he'll be awake but contently sucking his thumb and waiting for me. Lots of smiles and no crying too. ❤️

[hovsoonisnow]

.

[snonkerdoodlefizzy221b]

"$1200 to keep me from killing myself?!" - James Michael on JAMcast: The James Michael Podcast, Episode 5.

[snekdood]

wish i didnt hafta cut off my conservative family members but they were all so abusive that I can hardly tolerate being around them

[moonstruckme]

remus one shot where he can’t stop blushing around the reader because he has a huge crush on her and sirius and james are like dude please ask her out already?? 🙈

cw: the trials and tribulations of a restaurant job, semi-confident reader (or at least she can withstand Sirius' flirting, which I couldn't), James and Sirius' shameless wingmanning

shy!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 1.1k words

The cafe is crammed. You’ve almost tripped over two kids already whose parents let them run loose, you did let a glass slip from your tray when a customer stuck his leg out into the walkway without looking, and you’ve quickly reached the conclusion that today was definitely the wrong day to break in your new work shoes. You’re on your last straw at only ten in the morning, but your pasted-on smile becomes twice as genuine when you see a table of your favorite regulars. 

“Hi,” you say warmly, clicking your pen and readying it above your pad. “How are we doing today?” 

You’re greeted with two dazzling grins from one side of the booth and a shyer smile from the other. 

“Y/n,” says Sirius, in his suave, flirtatious way (you’ve learned not to take it personally), “you’re looking stunning.” 

You know your hair is suffering from the weather outside and there’s orange juice down the front of your apron, but you smile at him anyway. “Thank you, so are you.” 

“How’s your morning going?” James asks. These boys are never ones to skip over pleasantries to get to their meal, and while with other tables you might try to hurry them along, you never mind in this case. Today especially, you welcome the break. 

“Oh, it’s going,” you try to joke, looking pointedly down at your orange juice stain. “Could be worse.” 

He makes a face. “Yikes.” 

“It’s fine,” you say breezily. “What can I get you?” 

You look to James, because really he’s the only one you ever need to ask. The other two are fairly consistent, but James seems inclined to try something new every time he comes in. 

He doesn’t disappoint now, locking eyes with you seriously over the top of his menu. “How is your butterfly lemonade? No—actually, what is your butterfly lemonade?”

“It’s…” You bite your lip, thinking. Sirius snickers, and when you look he seems to be sharing in some joke with Remus’, whose cheeks have gone a tad pink. “I’m not sure, honestly, but it’s sweet. I think you’d like it.” 

“That, then.” James slaps down his menu decisively. 

“Right.” You write it down. “And then, a caramel latte and a tea?” You look to Sirius and Remus for confirmation. 

The former shoots you a grin you take as a yes, while the latter nods and says quietly, “Thank you.” 

“No problem.” You soften your smile for Remus. You adore all of these boys, but you have a bit of a tender spot for him. Remus is by far the quietest of his friends, though really just as friendly when he does talk. It’s terribly endearing. 

You click your pen again. “Okay, back soon!” 

The boys’ table remains a bright spot in your morning for as long as they’re there. Their antics you’re rather used to—the flirting, and the pranks, and the teasing way both James and Sirius poke at Remus while his blush worsens and worsens—but it surprises a laugh out of you when you joke that you’ll have to spit in Remus’ food if he orders the brioche (which infamously holds up the kitchen every time) and Sirius snorts doubt he’d mind before yelping and jumping in his seat. By the time you’re bringing them their ticket, the cafe has reached its late morning lull and your day is remarkably brighter than it started off. 

You seem to be interrupting some sort of debate when you approach their table, Remus leaning forward to whisper across the booth before he catches sight of you and sits back. The tops of his cheekbones are tinged pink. Sirius, on the other hand, is grinning wickedly, whereas James looks mostly exasperated. 

“Thank you,” James says kindly, taking the ticket from you. Remus starts rifling through his pockets for cash, but Sirius only looks at you as though sizing you up. 

“Y/n,” he starts to say, ignoring how Remus’ eyes narrow in his direction, “are you seeing anyone at the moment?” 

You feel your eyebrows lift. “Not currently, no.” 

“But why not?” He affects a look of puzzled contemplation, propping his chin on his hand. “You’re a pretty girl. Are you not looking to date?” 

You shrug, fighting the urge to cross your arms defensively. It’s not that you’ve never gotten these sorts of personal questions from customers before, but you weren’t expecting them from this table; you thought you knew better than to take Sirius’ flirting seriously. “Nothing has come up lately, I guess.” 

“Do you fancy men?”

“Sirius,” Remus hisses. “Leave her alone.” 

“What?” Sirius spreads his hands, guileless. “None of us would care if you didn’t, lovely—well, some might care, but no one would hold it against you—” He yelps for the second time today, this time shooting a glare at his friend across the booth. “Anyway, you don’t have to say if you aren’t comfortable.” 

You’re laughing a bit now, half nervously. “No, that’s okay. I do, yeah.” 

“Interesting.” James sets down the ticket. It seems you have his full attention now. “And what do you think of our Remus?” 

Remus makes a horrified sputtering sound, and you turn to find him looking at James in betrayal. He’s pink to the tips of his ears. 

You can’t help a small smile as you catch on. “I think he seems very sweet.” 

“Mm, well spotted.” James nods, tenting his hands like a man at a business meeting. 

“Yes, very good taste,” Sirius agrees. 

“He’s a dateable bloke, no?” James asks you. He jolts in his seat a little, but doesn’t yelp like Sirius had. Remus appears caught between wanting to hide his face in his hands and wanting to burn his friends to cinders with his gaze. He’ll be lucky, you think amusedly, if he doesn’t burn himself up first. The hue of his blush is only getting deeper. 

“He is,” you agree. You look at Remus again. This time, he meets your eyes, his look softening. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says miserably. 

Your grin spreads. “No, don’t be.” 

“So would you like to date him?” James furthers. 

Remus does put his head in his hands now, letting out a muffled groan. “James.” 

“What? Clearly you aren’t going to do it yourself, and I am sick of trying to eat my breakfast whilst you moon over—” He jumps in his seat again, and goes quiet, reaching down to rub at his leg. You tuck your lips in to hide a smile. 

“I’m just going to take this,” you say, reaching for the customer copy of their receipt. You bend over, scrawling your number down on the signature line. “And if anyone has more questions for me later, they can give me a ring. Okay?” 

You look at Remus. He looks nauseous and stop-sign red, but he manages to give you a small smile. “Alright,” he says, tentatively.

“Perfect. Bye, boys.” You shoot them a wave as you go to your next table. You hope Remus sees how your smile is really only for him.

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

i'm down on my knees, i wanna take you there

summary: you are suiting up for your first mission, the only problem being everyone "forgot" (intentionally withheld) this information from Logan wc: 2.3k a/n: thank you thank you so much for all of your support about my other Logan fic!! I am really enjoying writing for him, and have a few ideas for this Logan as well as some for Worst!Wolverine aka Deadpool 3!Logan as well! More info about empath!reader's powers and her role at the school in this one <3 warnings: slight (incredibly) slight angst, protective!Logan, a bit of a hurt comfort vibe, Ororo, Scott and Jean are meddlers this is the previous fic with these two, not required reading at all, though!

The leather was cool and surprisingly soft against your skin. There had never been reason for you to have to accompany a mission requiring one of the suits before, and you were shocked at how comfortable the uniform was. Typically, when you were asked to help with a mission, you were there for intel. Scope the place out, get a read on the general vibe of the place. Your powers didn’t provide the same level of protection as laser eyes or a strong regenerative healing factor. You would typically arrive with Rogue, in clothes from your own closet and one of the least fancy cars from the garage. You would slip in, get your read, and get out. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to help, you just lacked the training that the other members of the team had. And after all, someone had to stay back to mind things at the school. When Charles had approached you a few months ago about some possible applications for your mutation that would come in handy on missions, you’d been hesitant. It was so outside of your comfort zone to load yourself onto a jet that you’d never even considered the possibility. You were far more comfortable in the library where you held English classes for the students, or helping Charles keep students calm while exploring their powers. Neither scenario included the possibility of a lot of violence. 

Ororo helped you finish zipping yourself into the suit, smoothing her hands along the sleeves before giving you a final nod of approval. Jean and Scott granted you small smiles and you did your best to look as confident as you knew they felt. 

They’d promised it was a simple mission, the kind they usually took students on when Charles felt they were ready to join the team, if that’s what they decided to do after wrapping up their schooling. Charles had heard word of a young mutant who had some kind of telekinetic powers and had recently had an eruption while at school. Everyone agreed that it would be best to find them and convince them to return to the school for some training with as little force as possible, only expedited by the fact that Charles had found them hungry and afraid after running away from home using Cerebro. In the past, the kids had been resistant due to huge amounts of fear, causing them to lash out. You knew they were right that your powers would be useful at times like these, and if you were able to help in any way you were inclined to. 

“The fuck do you think you’re doing to her?” You sighed. It wasn’t that you were all conspiring to keep this a secret from Logan. It wasn’t a discussion that you’d had to agree on group espionage. It just seemed that all of you had a sort of understanding that it might be better to ask forgiveness rather than permission. Not that you needed permission. 

Logan looked furious, and what’s worse, he felt furious. You and Charles had been working to extend your powers over further distances, no longer needing to touch someone directly to know how they feel. Though it certainly doesn’t hurt matters. You’d sensed him upstairs, seemingly pacing around and seething. You’d hoped one of the kids had gotten on his nerves, or something on tv had set him off. You could see that was foolish now. 

“We aren’t doing anything to her,” Scott had his visor on, blocking his eyes from view, but you didn’t need to see to know that he was rolling his eyes. “She’s chosen to accompany us on a mission.” 

“A small mission!” Ororo chimed in, doing her best to give Logan a reassuring smile. 

You checked back in with his aura. Still furious. But it was a nice try, you supposed. Logan’s hackles were raised, his chest heaving. This certainly wouldn’t do. “Can I have a moment with you,” you glanced around the room, briefly meeting the other three mutant’s eyes. “Alone?” 

Logan was still staring daggers at Scott. He wasn’t even the one who suggested you were ready to come along. Jean and Charles had approached you this morning. You laid a hand against his arm, hoping to lead him out of the room, but he flinched away. The pang in your heart was immediate. Did he really think you were so callous that you would ever use your powers without his express permission, or some kind of emergency. You could feel the tears starting to gather in the corner of your eye, your arms wrapping protectively around your midsection. 

Jean slipped one arm through Scott’s and took Ororo’s hand with her other, gently leading them out of the room. “We are going to check a few things with the jet, last minute.” She began to hustle them out of the room. “Call if you need anything!” 

The door shut firmly behind them, and you were left alone with Logan, who looked like he was going to start shaking. “I wasn’t going to-”

“You don’t think I know that?” You can’t help but recoil. You have never been afraid of Logan, even when it may have been in your best judgement to be wary, and you still aren’t. But you can’t deny that it hurts when he snaps at you. Especially when you thought, well. You thought you were growing close. You started to turn away, but before you could, a warm hand caught ahold of your arm. “I’m not… fuck.” He took a heaving breath, shaking his head as if he could clear whatever thoughts were bothering him. “I’m not mad.” 

Despite the serious energy of the conversation, you couldn’t help the incredulous look you shot his way. He tried his best to hide it, but you could see the corner of his mouth turning up at you. “Fine, I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know, you really can’t be mad at anyone, they were just doing-” you were cut off when you fell Logan’s hand traveling down your arm, and pushing your sleeve up gently from where it was covering your hand. He slipped his hand into yours and you felt yourself relax a bit. “Just, take a look, yeah?” 

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“I trust you, bub.” You searched his eyes for any sign of hesitancy, but all you found was trust. Complete and utter trust. You nodded, tightening your own grip on his hand. Doing your best not to let the gentle rub of his thumb against your knuckles distract you, you took a deep breath and opened yourself up to his feelings. 

At first you did feel anger, bright red and hot. You sifted past it, steeling yourself. The first time you had encountered such strong anger, you had felt as if you were going to collapse. But you were stronger now, more prepared to deal with these kinds of feelings. The anger was strong, but also surprisingly shallow. In the depths of his emotions, Logan was worried. Terrified. A deep dark purple that made your own hands shake. His grip on your hand tightened, effectively drawing you back to yourself. There was more, a soft inviting pink that you didn’t dare to touch and shiny bright gold, which told you he was proud. 

You opened your eyes, fighting back the heat you felt creeping onto your cheeks. His expression hadn’t changed, pure trust and tenderness. It should have been disarming, or at the very least surprising. Logan wasn’t so open and honest with people. But the two of you had always had different expectations for the other. 

You couldn’t help it, a smile crept over your features. “You’re proud of me?” 

He rolled his eyes, but his smile only grew. He took your free hand in his, pulling you in closer. “I’m always proud of you.” He hesitated for a brief moment, and you did your best to bite your tongue. You could tell Logan had been making an effort to open up lately, and not just to you, but that didn’t make prolonged silences and easier to bear. “I know it’s not my place to demand anything of you.” 

“You’re my… friend.” You cut him off, wincing at the pause. It didn’t feel like the time to pressure him into labeling whatever feelings may be floating around. “And I always want to hear my friend’s opinions. What’s bothering you so badly?” 

“I could hear your heartbeat from upstairs.” Your eyes grew wide, too shocked to try to school your expression. Logan had told you several times that he had learned to block out his enhanced hearing when he was quite young. Usually to tease you when you got on a long tangent about something you enjoyed. He pretended to zone out and ignore you, but he would always remember small details about your rants, bringing them up nonchalantly at a later date  “I, uh, keep an ear out sometimes. Helps with the worry.” 

He worries about you? Even more surprising, he’s listening to your heartbeat like background music to his day. You promise yourself you will ask him about it when you don’t have a room full of your friends waiting on you. “I thought we’d covered this. I can take care of myself.” 

He sighed, bringing a hand to rest gently where your jaw meets your neck. “Sweetheart, I know you can. But that doesn’t stop me from watching out for you.” 

Your hand moved to rest overtop of his. “The good news is that I will have lots of people watching out for me. You know they won’t let anything happen.” You receive a single huff in return. He’s not convinced. “You know that these are the kinds of missions we send the kids on. I’ll be fine.” 

He considers for a moment, before dropping his hand and nodding. “Give me a second to get changed, and we will head out.” 

You grabbed for his hand, but he was already out the door, and moving too fast for you to stop. “Logan, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“What’s ridiculous is you thinking that I would ever let you go out there alone.” 

“As we already established, I have three very capable friends coming with me. I am only going as a contingency plan.”

“Well then consider me the contingency to the contingency plan.” You huffed, following him next door. 

You darted around in front of Logan, pushing against his chest with all your strength, even if you were fully aware that it was the equivalent of a fly buzzing around him. He stopped all the same, eyebrows pulled together in frustration. “I know you’re worried and I know that this is you trying to help.” Logan had his I’m about to interrupt you look on his face, leaving you to shove him again. Thankfully, he understood your intention. “This is important to me. You can’t be there every time, and I have to stand on my own two feet. I want to contribute to the work we do here more than just teaching kids about how awesome Shakespeare is.” The look was back. “Which is still an important contribution.” You added, which seemed to appease him. “But, I don’t want it to be my only contribution. So I am going to go and make sure that this scared kid who is all alone out there makes it back here safe. And you are going to stay here and make sure that everyone gets dinner and help with their assignments. And then when I get back, we are going to have a talk about all this.” 

“All this?” A smile crept back onto your face, hearing the teasing tone in his voice. 

“Oh my god shut up!” He caught your hands before they made contact with his chest, but he was slow to let go this time. He brought the back of both of your hands to his mouth, dropping a small kiss on each one, before returning your hands to your side. 

“If you come back with so much as a bump to the head, Scott’s dead.” 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and pointing out that this was exactly what you were talking about earlier did little to sway him. So you gave in, agreeing to give him a full report before slipping your hand into his and tugging him towards the jet. 

“We’ll be back in a bit.” You promised. You could feel the others staring from just inside the jet, but you barely noticed. Logan was checking over your suit meticulously, tugging zippers a few more clicks up and making sure that the collar wasn’t too tight around your neck. He kneeled down, checking to make sure the laces on your boots were double knotted. “Logan,” you laughed, reaching down to tilt his head up to look at you. “I’m too seconds away from sending a lot of exhaustion your way and leaving you passed out in here. You have to let me go, it’s going to be fine.” 

He remained kneeling for a second too long, a look in his eyes you couldn’t entirely place. The sound of the jet powering on broke the both of you out of your trance. He was on his feet in a flash, checking over you one final time. You rose up on your tippy toes, balancing by resting your hands on his shoulders, before gently kissing him on the cheek. You pulled back, nose scrunched up from the tickle of his facial hair. “We’ll be back in a few hours. Hold down the fort for us, yeah?” 

He nodded, pupils slightly blown out and a dreamy look on his face. You giggled, walking backwards for as long as you can before turning around and finding a seat on the jet. You could feel Jean and Scott’s eyes on you as Ororo began maneuvering the jet out of the garage. “Don’t even start.” You muttered, settling firmly into your seat, doing your best to soak up the pride and confidence the others were projecting into the cockpit. 

as always, feedback is so appreciated! if you have any requests for these two/wolverine in general, please leave them here!

next part

[scorpiossslut]

OFF-LIMITS. -Rafe Cameron.

Pairing: best friend!rafe x fem!reader

summary: rafe has always been your sweet, loving best friend. until he showed you he’s way more than that.

author’s note: had a cute idea for a fic. hope you’ll enjoy. as always, this is filthy. -xoxo, cherry💋

warnings: possessive!rafe, borderline crazy, obsessive!rafe, mentions of violence, rafe being a perv in secret, mentions of JJ Maybank flirting with reader, choking, face slapping, rough, unprotected p!v, loss of virginity, praising, degradation, breeding kink (baby trapping)

Being Rafe's precious best friend meant that you were always going to get spoiled. Many women wished for the things he was constantly offering you; his undivided attention, his affection, random, huge amounts of money sent to your bank account everytime you'd tell him you had a bad day, or if you wanted to get your nails done, or go shopping, sometimes insisting he'd come along, protection, maybe a little too much of it at times, everything you could ever want.

You were the most important thing in his life, since he never really had much of a relationship with his family, all of them treating him like he was a disease, something to be avoided at all costs, only bringing pain and suffering to those around him, like they'd often tell him. But you never saw him that way, and you hated his family for pushing him away and hurting his feelings like that. You were always there for him, his biggest supporter, the only one who could calm him down when he'd come knocking on your window late at night after having a fight with his father, the one taking care of him and putting a smile on his face. And he loved you for that.

But being Rafe's precious best friend also meant that you were off-limits to everyone else. You knew he had a tendency of being rather... intense, when it comes to you. Shit, everyone knew it, too, always choosing to stay at an arm's length from you in fear of what Rafe might think. Ever since you two were kids, he was always protective of you, and he absolutely hated the idea of sharing you.

As you got older though, it got worse. You couldn't even talk to a boy without him pulling you away immediately, and if you did, he'd always make sure to claim you in some way, wrapping his strong hands around you, or placing his big hand on your ass "innocently", always throwing daggers with his eyes and making sure that whatever asshole was trying to talk to you could see that you were unavailable. That he wasn't playing about you. His pretty princess. He didn't like it when you'd hang out with Topper and Kelce either, but since they were his friends, and they definitely knew not to fuck with him, he let it slide. But only because most of the time, he was with you, never leaving your side and silently taking notes of every time one of them would get a bit too close or be too kind to you for his liking.

You never had a problem with it. Rafe always knew best. That's what he'd always tell you, and you never had a reason not to believe him. He always took care of you. Many people talked and raised eyebrows constantly around you, not believing even for a second that you two were just best friends. There was no way that was all.

To you, it was just white noise. You were so used to Rafe and his behaviour that you didn't bat an eye ever at the closeness between you. He was just Rafey, your beloved best friend.

But little did you know the lengths that he'd go through to make sure you stayed by his side. That you'd remain his. His little bunny, oblivious to the real reason he's always asking to see your phone, hiding his true intentions with the excuse of just “checking for something", or "playing music" or wanting to "take photos" of you, when the real reason was that he was going borderline crazy just thinking about you secretly talking to boys on there.

Oblivious to the real reason his knuckles were violently bruised once in a while, promising you that it was nothing, when in reality, he almost killed a few boys for talking about you or looking at you in a filthy way, or trying to spark a conversation with you.

Clueless about the way he was always watching you, even when you thought he wasn't around. Following you in secrecy, almost everytime you'd leave the house, just to make sure that you were safe and you weren't planning on seeing someone else behind his back.

Completely unaware of the way he'd steal a pair of your panties once a month, sometimes washed, but most of the time used, snatched right out of your laundry basket, just to fulfill his sick, filthy fantasies in the privacy of his room at night, when no one would be awake to hear his moans and your name slipping from his lips as he fisted his impossibly hard cock so fast that he was seeing stars.

He thought it was cute. How you never suspected anything, how blindly you trusted him. And he was fine with you not knowing just how obsessed he was, for a while.

However, his patience was starting to fade. With every pearly smile, every innocent look you threw his way, those short skirts and sundresses you liked to wear that he swore you were wearing on purpose, just to make him go mad. Everytime you'd sit on his lap, or press your cute little ass against him when you'd dance at a party.

Everything was slowly but surely driving him insane, and it was only a matter of time until he was going to finally take what he wanted, what was rightfully his, and only his.

In his mind, the moment you'd find out about his true feelings towards you was going to be romantic, he'd make sure to be careful not to scare you off, he'd make you realize just how much you need him and how much he loved you.

So why did you just have to ruin that, by letting a damn pogue, JJ Maybank of all people, flirt with you? He thought he was going to lose his mind when he'd caught you two on the beach, talking without a care in the world, that stupid pogue scanning your body shamelessly and complimenting your little outfit that was supposed to be for his eyes only. He thought he was smart and fearless, trying to get into your pants like that.

He thought.

Oh, how he hated that you had to make it hard for him and yourself by doing that. He had trusted you, showed you his love, his devotion, for so many years, and there you were, pushing him to do something so reckless that might make you hate him.

But no... he wouldn't have that. He was going to make sure you never looked at another man again, that he would be the only one for you.

Forever.

"My dumb little princess, always so fucking oblivious." He grunted, pounding into your little pussy violently while he gripped your cheeks painfully, making your juicy lips pout. "You don't know what you did to me back there, baby. You're lucky that little shit is still alive after what he tried to pull."

His tone was soft, almost mocking, but you were having trouble processing his words, too messy and too cock drunk to hear anything as you took what he gave you helplessly, your abused cunt swallowing him greedily with each thrust of his hips.

"I told you not to run off by yourself, didn't I? Told you you should only stick by my side. You. Only. Stay. With. Me." He barked, empathizing his words with harsh thrusts, knocking the air out of your lungs and having your back arch off the bed.

"M' sorry, Rafey! I... I didn't mean to, I promise!" You cried out, digging your manicured fingers into his shoulders as you used them for support.

He just chuckled, the sound dark and lacking any amusement. You didn't mean to. Of course you didn't.

"Yeah? Then what the fuck were you smiling at Maybank for, huh?! Letting him look at you, talk to you, when you know that shit pisses me off? You tryna be a whore or something?!" He snapped, grabbing onto the back of your thighs and folding them to your chest, the new angle allowing his cock to stretch you even more and hit your cervix deliciously.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your lips parted with a loud, pornographic moan.

This wasn't the Rafe you were used to. Your soft, caring, loving best friend, and even if you knew of his outbursts, his undeniable issues, he always made sure to keep that side of him away from you, only treating you like a delicate flower, worshiping you with all his heart. Now, he was a completely different person, and maybe you should've hated him for taking everything from you like that, your sweet, precious virginity, but to your surprise, you loved it. And the way your pussy was fluttering around him uncontrollably was a clear sign of that.

"Well shit, would you look at that." Rafe smirked, leaning closer and folding your legs further, the pain adding to the pleasure you were starting to feel at the pits of your stomach. He wrapped his fingers around your slim throat, applying pressure to the sides of your neck and humming in satisfaction at the way your teary eyes widened in shock. "My pretty princess likes being called a whore, huh?"

"R-Rafe! Please, please!" You begged, but you didn't know what for.

"You were just begging for some cock, weren't you? This slutty hole needed a good pounding that bad. What a shame, baby..." He tsked, shaking his head and leaning to peck your trembling lips briefly, before switching up and slapping your cheek, the sharp sound echoing in the room along with the filthy sounds of your skin slapping and your wet pussy squelching around him.

"My dick is the only one this cunt will ever see, understood?!"

You let out a short scream and clenched around him viciously, his words making your head spin.

You were sure you were scratching his back to the point it was almost bleeding, but you couldn't help it, feeling like you were going to pass out with his hand coming back to squeeze your throat and with the way his pace picked up, the bed creaking underneath you like it was going to break with the force of his thrusts.

"Yes! Yes, Rafey!" You managed to say between moans and pathetic whimpers, reaching out and grasping his wrist, your small fingers wrapping around it.

You looked so beautiful to him right now. Unreal. With tears rolling down your soft cheeks, those pretty doe eyes looking up at him submissively, not hiding the way your pupils were blown in pure lust, only for him. Red, swollen lips from his kisses, your carefully applied makeup that was now ruined on your face, an obsessive amount of marks that were going to become flashy bruises, all over your neck and your chest, a clear reminder for you and everyone else that he owned you. The sweet sounds coming from your lips were like music to his ears, the countless nights where he'd imagine how you'd sound like, how you'd feel wrapped around his cock now useless, because nothing could compare to the real thing.

"Sweet angel taking cock so well. 'S like you were made for me, baby... Don't you think so? Look at how greedy this pussy is. Taking me like a pro." He praised, pulling back a little and tilting his head to the side and watching the way he slipped and pushed into you so easily, your slick covering his entire length, a hint of pink around his base, the evidence of your innocence being ripped away from you, now belonging to him.

Letting go of your neck, you finally gasped for air, blinking stupidly at him with your long lashes. But then, he suddenly reached out and grasped your hair, fisting it and yanking your head forward with force, having you watch the way he was stretching you repeatedly.

"Look how good you're taking me. This is all mine. Mine. No one will ever get to see you like this, baby... Gonna make sure of it. You'll never think about another boy ever again. You belong to me, you always have." His lips stretched into a smirk, the look in his eyes possessed as he watched you squirm and whimper, almost unable to keep your eyes open with the tears blocking your sight.

"Say it. Say this pussy belongs to me. You belong to me." He growled, his once blue eyes that were now dark and possessed burning a hole through you, his fingers gripping your hair tighter and pushing your head back. His body pressed against yours as his other hand sneaked its way to your pussy, his thumb pressing against your puffy, sensitive clit and rubbing it back and forth rapidly.

Your thighs were shaking around his waist, and your small body was trashing underneath him as you whined and locked eyes with his.

"It's yours, Rafey! Pussy's yours. I'm yours!"

"Fucking right. You'll never get away from me, even if you tried. I own you. You're never leaving me." He spat, the possessive words only making you squeeze his cock tighter.

It was supposed to be a threat maybe, but in your fucked up state, it was the hottest thing.

You wouldn't be able to live without Rafe anyway, you were so dependent on him, on his attention, his love, that the thought of ever being without him felt wrong.

Then, a sudden thought came to him. How could he make sure that you were never going to escape him? That you were only going to need him, for the rest of your life, just like he needed you. Maybe he could knock you up. Surely you'll never be able to run away if he got you big and swollen with his baby. You'll be his forever. God, only the thought made his body shiver. You'd look even more beautiful this way. Glowing, all because of him. Carrying his heir in that pretty belly of yours. Giving him a family to take care of.

An animalistic growl escaped from deep inside him, and his hips snapped frantically against yours with a newfound purpose now as he smashed his lips with yours, swallowing your whimpers. The kiss was filled with possessiveness as he tried to claim you in every way possible, his tongue slipping into your mouth and tasting you greedily while you tried to keep up with him, every once in a while clashing your teeth together as he rocked your fragile body into the mattress. When he pulled back, a string of your shared saliva connected your lips, and he grinned at you, but in a way that had the hairs on your body stand up.

"Think I know what to do with you, princess. Think I'm gonna get you all knocked up. Yeah. You'd look so pretty like that, you'll be so full of me you won't even be able to walk. And everyone will know, baby... Everyone will know who did that to you. That you're carrying my baby inside of you. Rafe Cameron's baby. My heir."

[etaleah]

I think a lot about the fact that the real genius of Hbomberguy’s plagiarism video was not just the exposé aspect of it but the fact that it so effectively demonstrated WHY plagiarism is bad.

When teachers warned against plagiarism in school, they made it seem like the reason it was bad was because it got you out of doing work. Plagiarism was bad because it was lazy. And that is (1) not a very strong deterrent to students who are only taking this class and writing this paper because they’re forced to and therefore don’t care about the work, and (2) missing the real harm behind the action.

On some level, yeah, plagiarism is bad because it will prevent you from learning how to write well on your own. There’s a real fear that a generation of kids won’t know how to write (which means they won’t know how to think) because they’ll be so used to having an “AI” machine do it for them that they’ll be helpless without it. That is very much a concern. But it’s far from the only issue. Harry laid out the other problems really well:

1. Plagiarism is enshittification. When you have to reword stuff to hide that you’re stealing it, the writing will be clunkier, wordier, more awkward, and less natural-sounding. This makes the piece worse, which isn’t good for anyone. Who needs more bad writing in the world?

2. Plagiarism spreads misinformation. Again, stealing stuff usually requires having to reword things to get around plagiarism checkers. That can make it very easy to (accidentally or purposely) rewrite a sentence to now be false instead of true. This is made worse by the fact that hiding the source of the information makes fact-checking impossible.

3. Plagiarism is anti-educational. If the audience doesn’t know where something came from, they can’t go visit that source to learn more about the topic. They’re prevented from finding any additional knowledge, which makes research—and therefore progress—difficult.

4. Plagiarism makes it impossible for creators to earn a living, thereby making it impossible to create. Funnily enough, this means less material for plagiarists to steal from, so the whole scam is really just a snake eating its own tail. Like all scams, it can’t last long. When plagiarists can make huge profits by stealing and putting out content faster because they’re stealing, the real creators who actually do the work have no chance. They can’t compete because they can’t create as fast as a plagiarist can steal. So they don’t make as much money, which means they can’t live off their work, which in turn means they can’t create anymore. This keeps going until all that’s left is stolen garbage.

There’s a lot to love about that video, but this part in particular is my favorite by far.

[howlettsdarling]

‘your girl’

⋅˚₊‧ 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ logan howlett x female reader

summary ;

short drabble of logan having a girlfriend who can barely go a day without his touch (yet he’s really not any better)

logan was a strong man. everyone knew that. they all saw his gruff exterior, the rough mutant who had been carrying blood on his hands for centuries, who was even deemed ‘unapproachable’ by some.

yet, those who did try to approach him, either ended up being pushed away or in his bed.

or… in the middle, somehow, and found a somewhat gentle, less rough side of logan: that wasn’t sexual yet also not necessarily mean.

you were in the middle for a while. especially when you met him for the first time — his first thoughts were lustful, greedy — depraved even — if you may — but something inside him stopped him from acting on these actions. maybe your age? you were a little younger than the other women he had been with, and also a little smaller. everyone was small to him, of course, the man was huge, but something about you … there was another side of him that just wanted to treat you gently, handle you with care.

and he had never felt that way about anyone before. well, barely anyone — only a few people had ever reached his heart that way.

he also sensed the same feeling from you, but yours was more… open. well, open is an understatement — you would always cling to the man, trying to grab his attention, asking his opinion on stupid things down to even your outfits sometimes. he found it a bit ridiculous, yet a deep part of him, a part he tried to hide, was tugged at everytime you were near him, at first innocently, like he was willing to have you drag him back to your room just to have him approve of every little outfit you were self conscious of yourself in, but then it got a little more heated: when he would be in the same room as you, even just casually in the kitchen, and you would come in — a scent wafting around you that he knew all too well, a scent only he could pick up on — of your body’s neediness.

and that only increased when you two finally got together.

when you two started dating, he thought you would maybe lay off on the neediness and clinginess; but it only got worse, that even after a night of having logan taking care of all your little problems, you were just as desperate the next day.

“logannn…” you would hum softly — approaching him as he sat on the couch, or the bed, or even when he was just trying to train. anywhere, you would approach him in that innocent little hum, that logan knew all too well by now. he knew, that whenever you skipped over to him like that, he would probably end up dropping whatever he was doing to take you back to whichever bathroom or private room was nearest, just to satisfy his girl.

or, there would be times where he really was tired and didn’t even have the energy for that, usually late at night after training all day or being out. you would come into your guys’ shared room, straddling his lap in an instant with that little hum of yours. he would huff and roll his eyes, his hands however coming to rest up on your hips anyways, enjoying the feeling of being able to squeeze them so easily in his huge hands. “sweetheart, ‘s late. come on, i’ll give you something in the mornin’… not now.” he would try to reason, only making you huff as well, shifting over to move onto his lap — grinding gently onto it already, letting him feel the wetness of your clit through your little sleep shorts and the rough fabric of his jeans. he knew it was pointless to argue with you, and he didn’t want to leave his sweet girl unsatisfied, so he would sigh, giving in with a nod of his head and a rough, verbal confirmation. “alright baby, go ahead..”

your heart would flutter at the granted permission, as well as your stomach as usually during nights like this you would start to grind your sweet, clothed little pussy against his thigh, shamelessly getting off to just the feeling of the strong muscle covered by his jeans nudging your clit with every movement of your hips: back and forth, back and forth — with logan’s hands eventually sliding up your shirt, looking at your already blissed expression, biting back your whimpers and moans the more you humped against his thigh — and as his rough hands played with your pretty tits, until you reached your peak.

or, maybe days where he had more energy. days when eventually he would end up getting worked up too. like when that simple thigh grinding could end up with him pulling you onto his lap instead and finish off by grinding on his bulge, or even riding him — and then there were also times when he would pull you into nearby bathrooms or empty rooms, pulling your skirt or dress up on those days you would dress up for him, and shamelessly lapping at your pussy like a starved man, like he needed this more than you did; the sweet taste of your arousal on his tongue making his dick desperately ache and twitch against his jeans. it drove you absolutely wild those days to see how much he craved you too, how he could barely go a day without getting you on him in someway, whether it be just holding you and kissing you innocently, to being buried into your sweet heat till you were a sobbing mess against him.

anything his needy girl wanted.

[caitlinsnicket]

viktor relationship headcanons

warnings: if you squint, you might see something a little intimate, but other than suggestions, there's nothing.

a/n: surprised myself by not only writing this so quickly but also by not including any filth. wow.

masterlist | 🍉 | ko-fi

He lives for shoulder kisses, treating them as a sort of stress reliever.

You visit his lab, bringing him a cup of tea (to make him sleepier and get him to bed quicker), and as you pass by, you lean down to kiss his shoulder.

Even through his shirt, he can feel your warmth, and as you leave, he manages to relax a little more.

Sometimes, before you go, he'll hold your hand and kiss your knuckles, his lips wandering down your wrist and arm until you start pulling him away from the workbench.

On good days—the days when he doesn’t feel as much pain or discomfort just from breathing—he asks for your help removing the harness he wears around his middle section.

He doesn’t actually need the help, but he loves the way your skin feels against his, especially during such an intimate moment, and he savors every second with you.

Putting the harness back on is a hassle, but it’s easier now because you understand.

It’s one thing to force your help on him, and another to ask if he needs it. He appreciates that you ask—and that you back off when he tells you to.

Another bittersweet aspect of your relationship is that he’s always cold. While it’s uncomfortable for him when he’s alone, it’s the best thing in the world when you’re around.

He’ll shiver slightly, and you’ll appear out of nowhere, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and pulling him close, tucking his hands under your thighs and kissing his nose until he’s boiling hot.

You also insist that he drink more warm beverages (except coffee—you banned that from your apartment ages ago), wear thicker clothes, and even use masks in the lab because his colds are always worse than expected.

Viktor insists he’s a grown man perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but when you hold his hands in yours and blow on them, he swallows his pride and lets you. Your love comes in waves like these, and he’s learned to catch as much of it as he can.

He doesn’t pay much attention to his appearance. While that unintentionally makes him a hundred times more attractive, it becomes a problem as he grows more important. It’s hard to explain that he can’t show up to an important meeting looking disheveled and that he needs to fix his hair before leaving the house.

So, you sit him down on the little bench you use to get ready yourself, using some of your products to tame his hair, smoothing down stray locks and ensuring he looks polished. The entire time, he fights to stay awake because of your gentle touch, eventually resting his face against your belly and breathing you in.

When you’re done, it’s a bit hard to get him up and out the door, but you manage by peppering kisses on his cheeks and nose. His heart races at your affection, and he promises to return as soon as possible so the two of you can be together again.

At some point, while redecorating the apartment for the millionth time, a picture falls out of one of his books: it’s him as a child, holding up a toy boat with a huge smile on his face. The sight makes you momentarily consider starting a family right then and there, so you call him over to show him.

He stutters, trying to snatch the photo from your hands, but you stop him, giggling at his embarrassed expression.

"You were so cute as a kid! I mean, you still are, but you looked so small! Baby Vik!" you tease, and he buries his face in his hands.

You end up framing the photo and hanging it on the living room wall, right beside one of your own.

But his absolute favorite thing the two of you do together is bathing. He never saw the point of it before—showering was easier and more practical—but now, he needs at least one bath a week just to keep going.

You fill the bathroom with bubbles, scents, and soaps, and he gets to sit back and relax with you in the warm water (which soothes his pain) in a dimly lit room. He loves it: your hands gently touching him, the care you take to ensure he’s comfortable and content in the tub, and even washing his hair for him.

He finds it almost pathetic how completely in love he is with you.