#this is a shameless jacket wip :]

[breezypunk]

You see him all by his lonesome at the arcade room, wyd? ;3

[therandomficwriter]

Crossing All The Lines

Who: Aaron Hotchner

What: Reader has feelings for Aaron and dances around them with quick glances when you think he’s not looking. Then reader gets hurt and accidentally confesses in the heat of the moment.

Request: Nope

Warnings: Typical canon criminal minds violence, talks of getting shot, blood, Slight age gap but otherwise age isn’t mentioned, etc. (Let me know if I missed anything!)

A/n: I know its been forever since I've written anything but I’m back into my criminal minds binge and currently have Hotch brain rot so yeah,,, n e ways please feel free to enjoy! A/n 2: Ngl I've been working on this one since June of 2023 and barely finished it now (Feb. 2024) so this was a loooooong wip but besides that i really hope you guys like it!

You guys have been going at it for hours now. The sun had set long ago and many of the officers have gone home, the new shift well settled into their stations.

Despite the amount of time you and the team had spent trying to get to the bottom of the unsub’s reasoning, which would bring you guys one step closer to finding out who it might be, you are no closer to figuring it out now than this morning.

Reid is going off on another one of his tangents and you are trying desperately to pay attention and keep your mind from wandering, the late hour not helping you much.

Everyone is in a different form of concentration but, none the less, in a similar state of exhaustion. Morgan is slouched in his chair, head in his hand, Rossi on his fourth, maybe fifth, cup of coffee, but there’s one person you can’t help but let your eyes wander towards.

Hotch stands at the head of the table, arms crossed on his chest, tiredness prominent in his features. Your eyes follow him as he moves across the room, removing his suit jacket and discarding it onto a chair. Moving back to his original spot, he rolls his sleeves slightly up to rest upon his forearms, then loosens his tie ever so slightly.

He leans over the table and opens his mouth to begin talking but, if you are being honest, not a single word is heard by you. Your eyes stay glued to his arm, his muscles flexing slightly from the way he is gripping the edge of the table.

You try to pay attention, really you do, but it is no use. Your sleep deprived brain is not allowing you to focus on anything but the man in front of you. If you are being honest, you have grown feelings for him but you don’t dare act on them. I mean how can you blame yourself? There is just so much you admire about him, you can possibly go on for hours just listing off the reasons.

As your mind seems to drift off, you don’t seem to notice Hotch has caught on to what you were doing.

Feeling eyes on him, he glances around the room and soon catches your eye. Upon meeting his eyes, yours slightly widen and you quickly look down, willing your face to not heat up at being caught with your shameless stares. You swear at yourself thinking if he brings it up you’d blame it on the late hour and lack of proper sleep.

Unknown to you Hotch’s lips quirk up, amused at your reaction to being caught, chuckling softly to himself. He looks around the room once again, taking note of the tired faces of his team and decides to speak up.

“All right team, let’s call it a night. We’ll pick this back up in the morning when we’re all rested. Maybe then we will be able to think about this more clearly.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, the team quickly gathers their belongings and heads out of the station towards their shared vehicles.

The ride back to the hotel was uneventful as everyone split off into groups between the two SUVs. You opted to ride with Hotch and Rossi taking advantage of their silent personas, definitely not because you favored the first of the two.

Taking your place behind the passenger seat, you quickly got as comfortable as possible on your way back to the hotel. Usually you would try to fill in the silence with different topics varying from the case you guys were currently investigating to what book you were reading at the moment, but right now you could barely form coherent sentences with your sleep deprived mind.

You could feel yourself slowly drifting off, the smooth ride and the sound of the car moving along the street help bring you into a deep slumber.

Unbeknownst to you a pair of eyes traveled across your sleeping form, glancing back and forth between you and the road. A small sigh escapes his mouth as he notices your breathing even out.

Hearing someone clear their throat, Hotch casts his eyes toward the passenger seat where Rossi is sitting with a knowing look on his face. His eyes turn back to the road.

"Dave..." he says quietly, tone coming out as a warning.

Rossi raises his hands in defense, keeping his voice down as well "I didn't say anything."

"I know that look. You have something you want to say," Hotch mutters, face annoyed.

"Aaron in know that look on your face. How long are you planning on keeping her in the dark? You deserve to be happy and I can tell she is the reason your mood has improved a lot lately," Rossi keeps his voice low as to not wake you up.

Hotch moves his eyes towards you one more time, taking in your features, he notices the slightest content smile on your face not having a worry in the world while sleeping. He lets out a deep sigh eyes leaving your figure and focusing completely on the road.

"Because I am her boss and she is my subordinate. I can not cross that line even if i wanted to. I can only imagine what the higher ups would say if they found out."

"Besides she deserves someone better, someone closer to her age, someone her could provide her with everything she could want or need. Why would she want someone like me," he finished off.

Rossi shook his head, "You, my friend, are completely clueless. How could she not want to be with you? Have you seen the way she looks at you? And don't give me that B.S. about your status as her boss, as if that matters. Trust me Aaron, that girl would follow you through hell and back if you asked her and i know you would do just the same."

Hotch let Rossi's words sink in. He kept his head forward, choosing not to reply in order to completely shut down this conversation, not wanting to get his hopes up too high.

Luckily the hotel quickly came into view and Hotch felt himself relax slightly. As soon as the suvs were parked everyone got off and split up and made their separate ways into their hotel rooms. Getting off, Hotch made his way to the back passanger side to wake you and send you off to sleep in your room.

He got to his own room, going through his normal night time routine before slipping into bed. Despite the late hour and lack of proper sleep the night before, his mind seemed to run non stop. It wasn't the unresolved case or fact that the unsubs motive was hard to pinpoint.

No, his mind seemed to be full of you. The conversation with Rossi seemed to have kickstarted his thoughts into a spiral. Eventually he drifted off to sleep his final thought of you and what he believes could never be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eventually you and the team had finally managed to find the link between the victims and his motive became clear. Richard Cornwall, a local who lives in the outskirts of town on his family ranch had been taking the victims and making them weaken enough to use in his own version of "hunting."

The evidence pointed to you all that he was a narcissist that believed he was too good at hunting the local game that it no longer was fun to him. So he thought that using real people would provide more of a challenge, that way he could really prove he was the best and what he did.

Currently on route to the Cornwall family ranch, y'all prepared yourselves. It was common knowledge that he was a hunter so you knew he had to have a surplus of weapons as well as being on the look out for and traps he might have left around the property.

Parking the suvs in front of the main house, you split up to survey the property looking for Cornwall and the latest person he had kidnapped.

While the rest of the team searched the two story house, you, Hotch, and Reid had taken the left side of the property going straight towards the barn, stalls, and the field. You noticed a deer blind a little ways away in the field making a mental note to take a sweep of it after checking out the barn.

After clearing the stalls, you guys made your way though the barn with no signs of Cornwall or the victim. Reid noticed a corner of the barn that seemed to be where he left the vicitms to bleed out. The deep red was splattered on the walls and completely covered the floor. Hotch took note of it saying he would get forensics to take samples of it.

As you guys began to exit the barn after clearing it you turned your head towards Hotch and Reid to tell them about the structure you saw in the middle of the field. As soon as you opened your mouth, the sound of a gun shot rang though the air.

You were down within a second, the shot hitting you right in your left shoulder causing you to let out a scream, your other hand reaching out to hold onto the wound. You began to feel lightheaded, the blood coming from your shoulder seemed to be never ending.

Hotch and Reid quickly crouched down taking cover in the barn as another shot rang out. They each grabbed one of your arms pulling you inside to safety with them. The yell you let out was worse than anything Hotch had heard, he could only imagine the pain you were feeling right now.

He radioed the rest of the team and the rest of the officers to let them know to be on the lookout notifying them you were currently down. They only know the general direction the shot came from, not too sure where Cornwall was.

"The blind" you let out weakly.

Reid spotted the deer blind a little ways out in the field and let everyone else know the location so they could proceed with caution.

You on the other hand, felt like you would pass out any second now. You felt like you were on fire, your shoulder growing heavier by the second. Soon your vision started getting spotty, white dots littered your sight as you tried to blink them away, tears streamed down your face from the pain.

Hotch turned to look at you to make sure you were alright but quickly noticed the flushed look on your face, your lips were pale, a sign you were soon to faint.

"Hey, L/N, look at me. You need to stay awake for me." he urged, shaking your head a bit to stimulate you.

The sound of his voice was coming in and out, growing louder then getting harder to hear, your ears no longer wanting to work. You blinked a bit trying to focus on him and what he was currently saying to you.

"Y/N, you're losing a lot of blood, they might have to do a blood transfusion at the hospital," he ushers out, desperation evident in his voice, "What is your type?"

In your current state, you tried hard to process what he was asking you. You vision was quickly growing worse and it was getting harder to hear him. You let out the first thing that came to your mind.

"You."

The last thing you heard was JJ's voice over the coms informing they had got unsub in custody and finally found the last victim who was luckily alive. Black soon consumed your vision and you were out like a light.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The feeling of the ground rumbling beneath you was the first hint to you that you were slowly gaining consciousness.

Soon the low sounds of a siren could be heard, slightly muffled to you. You tried desperately to open your eyes but you couldn’t find the strength. But you could feel a weight in your hand and you tried to flex your hand, your fingers twitching slightly.

At that you could have sworn you heard what sounded like your name. You tried to focus your hearing a bit more.

“Y/N,” you heard a man say.

You know that voice. You’ve heard it before somewhere. The sound of it seemed to make you calmer. At the sound of his voice again you tried once more to open your eyes.

A blinding light above you is the first thing you see, yet everything still seemed to be foggy. You glance at you surroundings, your eyes barely open a crack. That is when you see him.

He looked absolutely ethereal, you could’ve sworn he was an angel here on earth. The bright glow from the lights casted a halo around him. But there’s no way he could be here right now. He opens his mouth to speak again.

“Y/N, are you alright? Do you need anything? We are heading to the hospital right now, we should be there any moment.”

You stared at him for what seemed like forever just taking him in. His sentence went in one ear and out the other, as if he never said anything to begin with, as if he wasn’t even then, a mere figment of your imagination. You couldn’t wrap your head around what was going on or where you were. The only thing you could say was what you were currently thinking.

“I dream of you so often, I don’t know if you’re even real.”

And with that you felt yourself slowly slipping back into unconsciousness. The sound of that man’s voice imbedded deep in your mind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A low beeping lulled you out of your unconscious state. Your eyelids felt heavy, as if they were made of concrete, not allowing you to open them just yet. You stayed there unmoving, trying to get accustomed to your surroundings, willing yourself to try and feel anything around you.

You could feel the soft pillow underneath your head and the, somewhat, stiff bed underneath you. In your head, you knew your were laying in a bed somewhere, but for the life of you, you could not recall a single thing that happened to you or where you could possibly be at this moment.

Racking your brain, you tried desperately to remember what was going on. The last thing you remembered was that you and the team had a case you were working on. Where was it? Oh, right, you guys were currently in Texas. The unsub was a fisherman? No, wait, a hunter.

As you started to recall more and more of the case it all started to come back to you. You, Hotch, and Reid were searching the barn. That's right, you were right on his trail and then... he shot you.

'Wait Hotch, Reid, are they alright?'

Your eyes suddenly shot open at the thought of your friends hurt. Wincing at the sudden bright light around you, you blinking trying to get used to the sight around you.

At the same time, all your senses rushed back to you all at once. you could hear that constant beeping again but this time a little louder. Looking towards your right, you noticed the heart monitor displaying your heart rate. You stared at it for a little bit and watched the line move at a rhythmic pace before you realized that your left hand felt a bit heavier that usual.

Your fingers twitched, slowly flexing, trying to grasp at what was resting in your hand. You turn your head slightly, glancing down at your hand, only to notice another hand placed over yours.

Eyes widening at the slight, you move them from the hand, up the arm and towards the person it belonged to. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight before you.

In the chair next to you, Hotch was leaned back into the chair. His left arm was slung over his abdomen and his right arm was stretched out resting on the side of your hospital bed, hand intwined with yours.

He look so peaceful in his sleep, which was a stark contrast to his usual stoic expression, despite the slight furrow in his brows. How he managed to look so comfortable in that hard plastic chair was beyond you, but you were sure that the exhaustion of the events the night before finally caught up to him.

You watched him for a while, your heart strings pulling at the thought of him so worried about you that he actually slept in that uncomfortable chair all night when he had a nice warm bed back at the hotel you guys were staying at.

The sounds of someone clearing their throat pulled you from your thoughts, as you glance towards the doorway where the sound came from. Rossi stood there leaning against the door frame, a knowing smile gracing his features.

Feeling the heat rise to your face, your eyes dart away from Rossi and down at the blankets the covered you. David knew of the feelings you harbored towards the man to your left, having caught you staring at him a little longer that usual a couple of times. He soon got the truth out of you after a night of drinking, to which you spilled your heart out to the older man in hopes of getting advice from someone that knew Hotch inside and out.

"How you feeling kiddo?"

Hearing his question spoken softly, you glance back up at him and clear your throat feeling it dry from not speaking for hours on end.

"Alright. Just a little sore I guess," you rasp out quietly.

He raises his eyebrow, "A little? Kid you got shot with a rifle, I don't blame you if you said you it hurts like hell, which I'm pretty sure it does."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," you chuckle softly at his words before glancing back down.

You can't help but let your eyes travel back to where your hand was intwined with Hotch's, letting out a little sigh. Rossi's eyes follow yours, then travel up to where his friend slept soundly.

"You know," he starts with a small smile, "he was really worried about you kid. He's been with you since the ambulance pulled up. He refused to leave your side and even rode with you the whole way over here. We even had a hard time trying to get him to go shower or even change. He insisted that he had to be here when you woke up."

You shift your focus up to Hotch's face, taking in the words Rossi was saying, heart melting at the thought. Your mind raced at the implications of what this all meant but you quickly shut them down, not wanting to get your hopes up.

"I'm sure he would've been the same if it were any one of us," you replied, shoulders slumping a bit at the thought.

David rolled his eyes at your words, "You know what I mean Y/N. Sure he would've been worried if it happened to any of us, but I doubt he would be sleeping if those god awful chairs all night if it wasn't for you."

At that you could feel the hand in yours start to twitch, Hotch moving slightly as he began to wake up. Your breath caught in your throat as his eyes started to flutter open. The first thing Aaron saw as he fully woke up was Rossi standing in the doorway staring right at him.

"Dave? What are you doing here?"

Rossi chuckles softly, shaking his head as he pushes himself away from the door frame to stand up straight.

"Oh nothing, figured I should probably go get a bite to eat and maybe a cup of coffee. It seems like you guys have a lot to talk about," he finishes, nudging his head in your direction.

The look of confusion quickly washes away from Hotch's face as his head snaps in your direction. He takes in the sight of you wide awake, a slight flush on your cheeks that he assumes is because of your injury. He could feel your hand flutter underneath his as he glances down at it. The sight of your hand wrapped with his causes his heart to skip a beat, the moment it resumes he swears he can hear it pounding in his ears.

Rossi clears his throat once more gaining the attention of the two, "Well I better be off, let me know if either of you want something. I hope you feel better kiddo."

You let out a small 'thank you' and he smiles at you then sends Aaron a knowing glance when you aren't looking before turning and making his way out. You both sat there in silence, not knowing what to say to each other.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch finally asks, breaking the silence between you.

"Honestly, I've been better," you let out a little chuckle, trying to ease the tension, before turning solum again remembering your current state.

"I'm sorry for worrying you. I should've know better, if only I-"

Hotch cuts you off with a reassuring squeeze to your hand.

"Don't," he says firmly, "Don't you ever blame yourself for something that is out of your control. You did all you could and your observations helped us catch the unsub and the last victim was found alive."

"I know, but I just feel bad cause you had to sleep on that," you say, gesturing towards the chair he was sitting on.

He lips quirk up ever so slightly, "Don't worry about it, I should be used to it now because of all the late nights I spend at the office. Besides, I wanted to. I wouldn't do this for just anyone," he says, starting to gain the courage to tell you what is on his mind.

"Hotch-" you start, only to be cut off by him.

"Wait, just let me say this," he holds his hand up. you nod encouraging him to continue.

"Y/N, you are the bravest person I know, not to mention the most caring and thoughtful. You always tend to put others first, but are still able to stand up for yourself and voice your needs. I admire so much about you that I could possibly go on forever. What made me fall for you is beyond me, but I know what I'm feeling is real. I kept telling myself that I shouldn't love you, that I shouldn't cross that boundry, but its not as simple as it sounds. No matter how hard I tried, you made me fall harder and faster without doing much," he sighed, "Even if you don't feel the same, i just needed to tell you."

At the end of his speech your eyes were shining with unshed tears. Never have you heard anything as sweet and poetic as that. You could feel every one of his words in your soul as if he was speaking right to it. He had put his heart on his sleeve for you and you thought it was only fair you did the same.

"Aaron, when I first met you I thought you were just a cold, stoic, blunt man,"

Hotch could've sworn he felt his heart ache at the words leaving your mouth, but that soon changed as you continued.

"But, then I met you and learn a lot about you. You actually had a similar sense of humor as me and know how to dish out a joke as well as take one. Your wit is one of the things that surprised me the most about you. Not to mention that you protect the ones you care about with your life. You come off as nonchalant when in fact you care so much about each and every one of us on this team. And despite what you think, you're the best dad Jack could ever ask for. You really are his hero and I don't blame him. You say you admire me but, oh boy, you have no idea how much about you I cherish and appreciate."

"At first I thought it was nothing more than just a silly little crush, but it turned into so much more than that. I couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard I tried, it happened without me even realizing it. You are the first thing on my mind when I wake up in the morning and the last thought I have before I drift off to sleep at night, its like you're all that's in my mind. My heart has yearned for you longer than I knew it myself and now that I know that its not just me, I'm willing to cross that line as long as you're there with me," you finished giving his hand a loving squeeze.

Aaron stared at you with loving eyes and you could've sworn your heart stopped at the sight. You looked at him shyly with the newfound revelation of your feelings towards each other being mutual. You could feel yourself slowly leaning towards him and him doing just the same.

As the distance between you grew shorter and shorter, you both were stealing glances at each others' lips. Just as you were about to close the distance, a sharp pain shot right through your shoulder causing you to wince and pull back.

Hotch looked at you with worry helping you lean back into the hospital bed. His eyes scanned your face for any traces of discomfort as you got situated back into place. Your eyes met as if he was ask you a silent question, you nodded letting him know you were fine as he sighed in relief.

Chuckling a bit a the situation, he shook his head slightly before leaning down and placing a tender kiss to the crown of your head.

"Let's wait till you get out of here for that," he smirks, "Besides I need to treat you out to a nice dinner before we could have some dessert" he finished with a swift kiss to the knuckles of your hand that was still interlocked with his.

You couldn't help the heat that quickly rose to your face at his comment. Never, did you think Hotch could be that smooth. Rolling your eyes, you gently slap his arm causing him to laugh softly.

"You're so corny."

"Well you better get used to it cause you're stuck with me now," he replies with a smile.

You shake your head with a giggle, "Can I take that back?"

"Nope," he says, smile growing wider as a mischievous look glints in his eyes, "Besides you said I'm just your type."

The memory of what he was talking about quickly floods into your mind.

Your face flushes a deep shade of embarrassment and you quickly cover your face with your hands, "Oh my god!"

A/n: I really hope you guys liked it! It took me quite a bit to write but i really love the way it came out! I honestly think this is probably my favorite one I've written so far! Just to let y'all know i do have quite a bit planned out so be on the lookout for that and hopefully I'll be able to put out little thing here and there! Once again if y'all want to be added to the tag list the link is here ʕ•ᴥ��ʔ and just fill it out for whatever you want to be tagged for and if you don't know what I write for just checkout my masterlist or leave and ask and I will reply as soon as i can get to it!

Taglist: @uraveragegorewhore @drayshadow @wlfstxr @nikkitc0703 *The ones in red are the ones I couldn't tag so if you want to be added again or removed just fill out the form or comment on here!*

[phantommaws]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Shameless smut post bc I’ve got NOTHING TO LOSE

Tag list: @youre-ackermine

18+ ONLY PLEASE, ADULT CONTENT BELOW THE CUT

The smell of fresh pine was the first thing that Hange noticed as the door swung open, but they were far too preoccupied by the taste and sensation of Levi’s lips pressed against theirs. Their legs were wrapped around his back, arms tightly locked behind his head as he carried them toward the sofa and placed her down before turning away to close the door.

They had both been taken by surprise by the two gifts they had received a mere few hours earlier, neither one entirely sure of what they thought. To be gifted with the deeds to both a house in a secluded area away from the main settlement of the island along with one for a shop situated in the centre of the village, it was unexpected. The house had been fully furnished too which had come as even more of a surprise to the pair.

No sooner had Levi bolted the door shut and returned to his lover’s side than he took them in his arms once more. Sitting them in his lap, his hands roamed over the expanse of her back which remained covered by the shirt and waistcoat that she wore.

Their suit jacket had long since been discarded, thrown in a haphazard fashion to the side out of wanton desperation. Hange whimpered impatiently as he kissed her throat, taking care to pay extra attention to the areas which elicited a sudden change in pitch.

“Levi…”

Hange’s voice was soft, steeped with emotion and yet so very full of lust and desire which was not lost on their new husband. He slid his hands under the waistband of the trousers they wore, fingers delicately trailing across the soft skin as he gently nibbled at the skin of their neck. Hange gave an impassioned yet impatient groan, their expression pleading as Levi pulled away from the kiss.

“Ever so eager, I see…I never expect anything less of you.” Levi smirked, fingers providing teasing strokes in sensitive spots as Hange moaned into the juncture of his neck.

Hange hummed in way of response, their nails digging pits into the skin of their husband’s back as he slid a finger into the wetness of their core with a sly smirk. Their toes curled as their eyes scrunched shut, their breath hitching as they hissed through clenched teeth and Levi’s smile grew even wider. How truly gorgeous they were here in front of them, their eyes sparkling with desire, and he couldn’t help but stare.

He began to move his hand, slipping another finger into Hange as they wailed in pleasure, feeling them shudder through their entire body as they clamped down on his fingers. Each thrust of his digits into them drew a moan louder than the last, his thumb tracing circles around them as they gasped. He felt their grasp on his back tighten, their nails digging deeper into his skin.

“Oh…so needy…” Levi taunted as Hange began to grind themself against his hand and thigh once he had slowed his pace, their high-pitched groans telling him of how close they were to their release.

“Sh…shit…Stop t-teasing me-aaaaaah…shorty…”

Hange only just managed to form a sentence through their gasps, their chest heaving as the softness of the cushions on the sofa met their back. Confused, they opened their eyes to meet Levi’s, who was now laying on his stomach on the sofa. Before they had the chance to ask what he was doing, he leant down and his tongue swept a line from their opening before swilling around their clit; Hange couldn’t help but throw their head back in pure ecstasy, mouth agape as they fought the intense urge to clamp their legs closed around his head.

Levi smirked as he brought his spare hand up to rest on the back of their thigh, gently pushing their legs wider to allow him more space; Hange could barely resist, dizzy with lust and overwhelmingly eager to just let their husband take control.

The sensation of his tongue against their skin was driving Hange to the edge, and the only thing that they were able to hear in that moment was the pulsing of blood in their ears and the ragged, breathless moans that they let out. Their mouth was dry, and they knew their climax was imminent.

“L-Levi…Fuck…”

The muscles in their stomach clenched, and their back arched off of the soft surface of the sofa as it felt like their entire being was trembling. Hange couldn’t help the sound that escaped their throat, a high-pitched keen not too far off a wail as they felt their body tensing. Levi continued his motions until the very end, helping them through the intense sensations until what felt like the inferno in their lower abdomen settled into a pleasant glow.

Struggling to catch their breath, Hange only just managed to push themselves up to sit against the cushions as Levi glanced lovingly at them, his mouth shining with their slick.

“Now that,” he began, making a point to slowly trace his tongue over the digits he had just removed from their core, “Was just a preview of what’s going to happen once we go upstairs…”

“Why not here, hmm?”

Hange twitched slightly as their partner pulled them up into a sitting position, and their gaze was immediately drawn down to his lower body as he lifted them to begin the ascent up the stairs towards the bedroom.

“How fair is it,” they began with as sultry a tone as they could manage as they grasped the buckle of his belt in their hands once they had reached the master bedroom of the house, “That I am fully undressed and yet you haven’t removed a single article of clothing, eh? You’d better catch up before I take matters into my own hands; I am not a very patient person, Captain.”

Levi couldn’t help but gasp slightly upon hearing them refer to him by his rank. Such a normalised word that he had heard so many times before throughout his stint in the Survey Corps, but when spoken by his lover, they had a way of making it roll off of their tongue in a way that was so very coquettish and provocative. The pleading expression on their face, pupils dilated and eyes gleaming in the warm light of the gas lamps.

“I want you…I need you…”

The desperation in Hange’s voice was what drove him over the edge. They grunted as their back met the softness of the mattress, their head nestling into the plush cushions as Levi stripped his lower garments and hastily discarded them in a pile in the corner.

Clambering onto the bed, he took in the sight of Hange laying before him; they had taken their hair out of the ponytail and removed their glasses, and the light from the lamps on the nightstands gave their body an almost ethereal golden glow. To him, they looked like some otherworldly deity in that very moment, and he was captivated by their beauty. They glanced up at him as he knelt above them, giving him a small smile as he leant down to kiss them. Their fingers wound into his hair, and their breath tickled his ear as they whispered to him.

“…Fuck me like I’m your wife…”

Levi positioned himself between their thighs and guided himself into his partner, and Hange couldn’t help the cry of intense pleasure as she felt him stretch their walls to what felt like their limits. Feeling him buried so deeply inside of them was something that never got old. Levi groaned as he felt himself bottom out inside of them, sweat trailing down his back as he panted.

Slowly, he began to thrust his hips into theirs, and Hange instinctively wrapped their legs around him with a soft grunt. Being here making sweet, tender love with their husband? There was no greater joy to them and as Levi began to increase his pace, Hange whimpered encouragingly. They wriggled slightly, moaning in satisfaction at how full they felt with him so deep inside of them.

“Levi…aaaahhhh…”

Levi couldn’t help glancing down at his lover, planting gentle kisses on their throat as their nails dug burning welts into the skin of his back.

“Oh, you…you like that, eh?”

He grasped their arms, using his position above them to his advantage and pinning their wrists above their head with one hand while his other snaked down their hip; with a gentle touch, he slipped his fingers into the crook of Hange’s leg and carefully pushed it back, hearing them cry out and clench down around him as he felt his length slip deeper inside.

Hange’s back arched off of the mattress as their eyes scrunched shut, their breath hissing through clenched teeth as the pleasure overwhelmed their body.

“F-fuck…I’m go…I’m gonnaaaaaaa!”

Hange writhed beneath Levi as their climax overwhelmed them with the intensity of the sun itself, their hands desperately grasping for handfuls of the bedding beneath them. It felt like they had been struck by a tidal wave, threatening to drown them while promising to draw them out into the depths of the ocean to never return to the shore again. The heat ebbed into a gentle simmer, leaving them panting raggedly as Levi glanced down at them, groaning at his own intense climax.

“F-fuck…”

Hange was barely listening as Levi spoke, groaning slightly as he pulled out of them; they couldn’t help the slight whimper as they felt his spend slowly trickling out of them, wriggling slightly until they were held in the comfort of his arms. He leant down to kiss their forehead, and they smiled as he did so.

“And to think that we have the rest of our lives together.” Hange mused, admiring the way that their fingers entwined with Levi’s as he held them closer to his chest, almost as though he was frightened of what might happen if he were to let them go.

[heymrspatel]

✨weekly tag wednesday✨

i was tagged by @michellemisfit @energievie @gallapiech @deedala @mybrainismelted @crossmydna @thepupperino @sgtmickeyslaughter @y0itsbri @mickeym4ndy @kiinard and @gallawitchxx weeee thank you pals!

name: julissa 🧚🏼

age: 34 i guess 🤷🏻‍♀️

location: blue comfy couch 🛋️

top sheet, yes or no? yea, sure! if it's there, i don't mind. if it's not there, i don't mind. unless it's when i have the big soft fleecy fluffy blanket, then no top sheet cause i wanna be soft. 🛌

how many stuffed animals do you own? i have 5 right now. but i used to have soooo many! 🧸

the names of your pets (and the explanations behind them): i don't have any 😞

favourite color: blue and green, like the oceans and forests 🌊🌲

any tattoos? nope

how you transport your belongings (purse, tote, hands, pockets, etc.): for work i have a blue backpack. other than that it's usually a black crossbody purse. 👜

the last movie you watched: i think it was spiderman 3? 🕷️

how long does it take you to get ready in the morning? like 30 minutes? the toughest part is opening my eyes ⏰

favourite weather: 60-65 degrees. where i can wear a cute sweater or a cool jacket and boots 🥾

relationship status: did you know that polar bears have elongated snouts that warm up cold air before it reaches their lungs? cool right! 🐻‍❄️

ice cream flavor of choice: i love a mint chip! 🍦

first fandom: i think harry potter? i've been in many, but shameless is the first one i've ever been so involved in! ✍🏼

how many books have you read this year? uh like 3.... old me is ashamed 📚

first 4 words of your last notes app entry: "light streaming in. hand..." LOL this was a note for that drawing i did of the boys waking up and the light is coming in through the window. i have a running list of ideas/wips (that i just added to today) and i hadn't checked that one off as done. *CHECK!*

this post is what kicked that one off! 😏

and finally, if you had to change your URL tomorrow, what would you change it to? bubblegrunge 🫧

i'll tag @whatthebodygraspsnot @whatwouldmickeydo @catgrassplantdad @howlinchickhowl @gardenerian @rereadanon @darlingian @jrooc @blue-disco-lights @lingy910y @palepinkgoat @xninetiestrendx @mmmichyyy @sam-loves-seb @sleepyheadgallavich if you would like to play! if not, this is just me giving you a cool shell 🐚

[jaywhere]

moom, dad and dad are fighting over which of them is the most fucked up again :(

poolverine wip extend, ~7k. i have been confined to my tablet with a bluetooth keyboard so she is no doubt extremely messy and i am also too lazy to post in parts so we will all have to deal with that! skip to *** for the new stuff, follow-up to HER

The doorframe rattles when Logan slams it shut.

With a sigh, he shrugs off his jacket. He makes a half-hearted attempt at hanging it on one of the hooks off to the right before giving up and allowing it to slump onto the floor. His feet drag, toes catching clumsily against the transitional swell between his living room’s wood paneling and the kitchenette’s linoleum.

The world is already tolerably fuzzy as he slams open the cabinet door. Logan closes his eyes against the sound of one of his neighbors showering and crickets chirping in the distance. He pulls out a half-empty bottle of whiskey, pops out the cork, and tilts his head back to take a few slow glugs. The alcohol slides down his throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The thunk of glass against the lacquered countertop echoes.

Today had not been a good day. The last few days hadn’t been good, really — although Logan’s not sure he’s ever had a good day. But the last few had been worse than usual. The kind of days that suck you dry, leave you nothing but a husk of a man at the end of ‘em. Logan glancces down at the bottle in his hand, wondering if he should down the whole thing now.

He squints. It looks significantly more full than he remembers.

It isn’t until the bathroom door swings open to release a cavalcade of barefoot footfalls and a cloud of hot steam, that Logan realizes it hadn’t been one of his neighbors showering.

“Logan Wolverine,” Wade Wilson announces, leveling an accusatory loofah brush towards him, “it’s time to resume our eternal battle.”

Drunk, Logan stares. The cloud of steam clears to reveal an expanse of marred skin interrupted only by the bright red kevlar of the Deadpool mask. A long beat passes wherein Logan stares directly at Wade’s bare cock dangling goofily between his legs before he jerks his head to the side.

“God damn, man, put some clothes on!” Logan turns, back to Wade. “And what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, lover.” The only warning Logan gets before a hot, wet body is pressed against his back is the damp slap of wet feet on linoleum. By reflex, he turns and shoves three ragged claws directly into Wade’s stomach. “Oh, should’ve expected that. Gonna take a second to get over that one.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Logan stares down at him, spread-eagled in the kitchenette with thin streams of blood puddling on the floor. “You are wet and naked. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Well,” Wade responds. Completely shameless, he doesn’t even make an attempt to cover himself. Logan grinds his teeth and turns his back once again. “Considering that you just stabbed me. No! And besides, I have a job for you. Since you’re obviously done with your last one.”

Logan tips back the bottle of whiskey into his mouth. A few drops escape from the corner of his lips, which he doesn’t bother to wipe away. “What?”

“It’s something silly. A B-plot. Hijinks, if you will. The type suitable for some sort of one-shot. Maybe a two-shot if we get frisky.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Logan stares out the window above the sink. The foggy, smudged surface prevents him from seeing much other than the glaring approach of oncoming cars down the highway.

“I’m talking about an adventure! Work for the good of the universe! The two amigos at it again to save the world — or at least a very specific suburb of Milwaukee — “

“Yeah, I don’t actually do that anymore.” He takes another swig. Bottle’s halfway empty.

“Okay. Well, if I am being honest, I did accept a payment for this one. About a milli, but if you play nice, I would be willing to split it between the two of us.”

Another drink. A car roars down the highway, lights blazing. A fly buzzes above, imprisoned against the glare of the LEDs.

“No.”

“Okay, fine.” Wade’s exasperated tone shatters the melancholy mood. Logan wishes he would give up and leave already. Wishful thinking, he supposes. Not even educated. “It was two milli.”

“No.”

Logan slides the whiskey back into the cabinet. Wade mutters something he doesn’t bother to listen to. Rather, Logan steps over Wade’s naked, wet, healing body, opens the fridge, and pulls out a mostly-intact six pack. With a sigh, he walks into the living room, collapses onto the couch, and turns of the TV.

“Fine!” Wade shouts from the floor of the kitchenette. “It was five milli, but if you’re actually going to take half of that, I expect a blowjob for my finder’s fee, mister!”

Logan doesn’t respond. Nothing good on at 3 AM. He should be asleep. No way he’s going to do so with Wade Wilson loose in his place. He’s too tired, drunk, and miserable to do anything meaningful about him right now. He pops open one of the beers. On screen, a lion eviscerates a zebra while the narrator drones calmly on.

Damp footfalls on carpet. Wade stands just inside of Logan’s line of sight. He isn’t bleeding any more. “Oh no, I’m bleeding all over your carpet! Whatever are you going to do!”

Logan ignores him. The lion is rooting through the zebra’s guts now.

“Come on, I know you can’t be that busy. You’ve been gone for four whole days.”

Logan’s brow furrows. His head snaps in Wade’s direction. “You’ve been in my house for four days.”

“This, Logan, is an apartment. And yeah, where do you think all those dirty dishes came from?” Wade gestures vaguely towards the kitchen. Logan hadn’t even noticed. “Also, you probably want to change your sheets. And don’t look in your second dresser drawer, please, unless you’re like, way more into me than I think.”

“Okay.” Logan sets down his beer, looking Wade dead in the eye. Very intentionally, he does not glance down to where Wade’s cock is still flopping pathetically about between his legs. “I’m being serious. I need you to get out now.”

“Ooh, it’s serious time, alright.” He bends his knees, turns to the side, and arches his back so his ass sticks out. “And what happens if I don’t?”

Logan stands up. He can’t fucking deal with this right now. He grabs his coat, stumbling over to the door. He squints against a blast of cold air.

“Come on, Logan.” Wade attempts to dramatically slam the door shut. Logan rips it right back open and steps outside. “I can’t be so repugnant you don’t want to work with me even just a tiny little bit — “

“No, you are,” Logan says, just before slamming the door in Wade’s face.

There are a few blessed moments of silence as Logan walks up the half-set of stairs leading to the parking lot. His shoulders tense when he hears his door creak open again.

“Even though I’m offering you two and a half million? This place is dingy as fuck, the X-men cannot be paying you that much.”

The door slams closed behind Wade. Logan keeps his gaze fixed ahead. He doesn’t speak until he senses Wade right behind him. “Pretty sure the X-Men don’t get paid, bub.”

“What the fuck, good ol’ Chuck — who is definitely alive by the way, don’t you even worry your sweet little heads about it — doesn’t even pay you.” Logan keeps walking forward, desperately hoping that the crunch of gravel beneath his boots will eventually drown Wade out. “That’s inhumane. Even the Avengers get paid. What the hell else is he doing with that seemingly infinite pool of money? Also, what do you mean you’re pretty sure? You are working with the X-Men, aren’t you.”

Logan takes a deep breath. Without a word, he continues walking forward.

Wade gasps. They cross into the street now, beginning to walk down the empty road. Logan’s car isn’t even here. He'd left it at the bar.

“Oh my god, you’re not. What the hell have you been doing for the last year then, man?”

“Didn’t I very specifically say that we would not be seeing each other around?”

“Yes, but then you waddled that cute little ass directly into my apartment, and held my dog, and made friends with my friends and your not-daughter, all strongly implying to the audience that we were going to live happily ever after in homoerotic bliss!” 

The sound of skin smacking against skin echoes from behind Logan. Perhaps Wade smacking himself in the face. “I thought you were the reason they rejected me again, good ‘ol Logan wants nothing to do with Wade anymore for completely inscrutable reasons, but — “

Logan’s brow furrows. “They rejected you — ?”

The sentence dies a swift death to a cocktail of rage and embarrassment as he turns and realizes that Wade is still buck naked.

“ — sunuvabitch, put some damn clothes on!”

The emotionless white pits of the Deadpool mask stare back at Logan. “I will if you come back to your sad wolf boy apartment with me.”

Logan scowls. “No.”

Wade crosses his arms and waggles his hips. “I’m the one wearing the mask here. I have nothing to lose. You live here. And you have neighbors you care about. Apparently.” 

Logan turns his head, gritting his teeth against the feeling of complete mortification. With a grunt, he clips Wade’s shoulder as he passes him on the way back to his apartment.

“There’s my peanut, always happy to see me!”

Logan throws his jacket onto the floor as soon as he re-enters his apartment. Wilson is such a fucking nut-case.

— 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get down nasty style? If it’s just about the carpet, we can lay down a tarp or something. Or we can do it in the bathroom. Always keeps the ugly bumping tidy no matter the bodily fluids involved — I highly recommend it.”

Exhausted, Logan blinks very slowly as he stares at the TV. He sucks down another half a beer before responding. “Don’t you have a girl?”

“If by a girl,” Wade calls out from the bedroom, “you mean my fabulous new therapist Lisa, then yes. She is so dumb. Knows nothing about the horrific depths of the human spirit. Never been tortured, Logan, can you believe that? Not even once. She’s incredible. She has me using this new morality app — “

Logan shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean a girlfriend, wife situation.”

“Not anymore!”

Wade arrives in Logan’s field of vision wearing a pair of jeans which come to an abrupt end at his mid-shin. A white t-shirt is tucked into Wade’s belt, dangling pouches failing to disguise how comically large the waistband is on him. Strips of discolored skin are visible on his arms and legs. He’s still wearing the mask. He makes jazz hands.

“You look stupid.”

“You, too!” Wade points an accusatory finger at Logan. “Oh, who am I kidding? You pull it off. Why was I cursed with this glorious, mutilated twink body?”

With a huff, Wade collapses onto the couch. He places a hand on Logan’s thigh, which Logan quickly removes.

“Sorry about your girl.” Wade’s hand continues to sit placidly on the couch. Logan takes another swig of his beer.

“It’s fine.”

On screen, a family of gerbils scurry out of their burrow in the middle of a flood. The narrator dully reports that, in these conditions, the little beasts make easy prey for opportunistic predators.

“Actually, it’s not fine. You know, the really fucked-up thing is that — according to her, at least — it wasn’t the loser-era stuff, or the putting her in constant danger, or the severe mental health problems. Sometimes, things just don’t work out.” Wade turns away from Logan and stares into the middle distance. “And that, dear, readers, is a weak plotline, but it’s also real life. We all know you just want to see his one-eyed snake disappear into my wet cave and you’ll take any excuse you can get. Fuck!”

Wade throws his head onto the back of the couch.

“It may also just have been the severe mental health problems,” he admits. “She was really nice. Probably wouldn’t have said that if it were true.”

Logan drink again. One of the gerbils gets snapped up by a hawk in slow motion. “She would have,” he says. “She would’ve just said it nice.”

Wade sighs. “Yeah.”

Wordlessly, Logan hands him a beer.

“You know, I’m not supposed to drink on my medication. But this is probably enough of a special occasion.” Logan’s not sure whether it’s a joke. He’d never known Wade — any iteration — to be particularly stable. In fairness, Logan has never been either.

When Wade takes the bottle, Logan pops the top off with one partially extended claw. Wade scoffs and takes a sad, quiet drink. Out of juice. Silence encroaches.

“So,” Logan starts. “You’re back on your merc shit, huh?”

“Kinda.” Wade slouches into the crevices of the couch. For a moment, he looks pathetically small. “I’m trying to incorporate my burgeoning moral compass into my work now. Man’s gotta eat.”

“Five million dollars ain’t grocery money.”

When Wade sits up, it’s like a switch flips on in his brain. “In this economy? You’d be lucky to get a loaf of bread for 50K!”

Logan ignores him. He finishes off his beer, then sets the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“So does this mean you’re gonna help me? Or fuck me? I was hoping for both but at this point I’d take either.” He leans closer, staring out at Logan from behind his mask.

Logan sighs. “I said I’m not doing that shit.”

“Logan.” Wade’s voice is deadly serious. “My bowels are clear. But if you’re really that worried about it, I can give myself an enema first.”

Logan reaches over and takes the beer back. Wade doesn’t flinch.

“Hey, come on. You literally save the multiverse, heroically switch timelines, sidestep the life-ruining consequences of your actions. You get to live in a world where you’re a hero, and not one where all of your friends are dead. That is literally once-in-thousands-of-lifetimes kind of luck. And you’re gonna use that ridiculous stroke of luck to sit on the couch all day?”

Shouldn’t be surprising. Logan was already familiar with Wade’s personal definition of heroism. With jaw tight, Logan keeps his gaze fixed forward. His grip tightens around Wade’s beer. Fingers twitching, he downs a third of it.

“I’m honestly shocked the TVA didn’t make you go home off-screen, just for continuity’s sake. I guess they want you to be in more — “

“In case you didn’t catch that,” Logan says, glaring at Wade out of the corner of his eye, “that was an invitation to leave.”

“But you did give me the beer. Invitation extended. And I bet if I ignore your grumpy mug and stay a little bit longer, I can get you to do it again!”

Logan doesn’t respond. He’s lost track of how much he’s had to drink. The whiskey from before is just now starting to hit him, thoughts growing sluggish, warmth crawling through his limbs. He downs the rest of Wade’s beer and cracks open another.

“For real, man.” Wade leans closer, squinting. “Why are you not chilling with the X-Men. They’re all alive here. Or, like, mostly. Probably.” His head turns, glancing around the room chaotically. “Those timelines were always really hard to follow. And our whole thing just didn’t make any sense at all, so it’s probably way easier to just show up and find out who’s alive, but like, it’s definitely most of them. I saw Kurt last week. Blue. Tail. All that fun stuff. You two are supposed to be buds.”

A black hole opens up in the pit of Logan’s stomach.

“You like reality TV, right? That seems like your kind of trash.” Logan flips through the channels. The warmth that radiates off of Wade as he leans in closer is probably Logan’s imagination.

“Logan.” Wade whispers. “Answer the question.”

Teeth grit, Logan hisses, “Or else what?”

“Or else.” Logan rolls his eyes when he feels the cool barrel of a gun press against his temple. He continues flipping through the channels. “We will have to continue our eternal — oh, Love Island, I love this shit.” Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You know, the US version is so bland in comparison to the UK one — wait a second, you’re trying to distract me!”

With a sigh, Logan leans his head back on the couch. His thoughts are becoming delightfully fuzzy, now. He plays the game. “You ever get that ADHD testing done?”

Wade narrows his eyes. “No.”

If Wade had come here to commiserate — to play games — Logan can be fine with that. A few hours ago he’d lifted his cheek off of the bar with red in his mind’s eye. Her hair, her fire, her blood. The last few months had been lonely.

An unnatural silence fills the room when Logan closes his eyes. Wade moves, silent and fast. Thighs bracketing Logan’s, erratically-textured palms cradling his cheeks. Chest tight like he’d been strangled. Logan’s knuckles are pressed to Wade’s ribs, all reflex.

“Get off me.” The vision of his blades slicing through Wade’s soft stomach is clear in his mind’s eye.

“Logan.” Wade’s fingers on his cheek are patronizing. “My bro. My good boy. My homie. My personal hero. That would ruin your couch.”

Wade’s body going slack in Logan’s arms. Manic twinkles of laughter in his ear. Spilled blood sucked up by denim and upholstery. Logan grits his teeth. Silence ticks on.

“Which you care about, because you’re broke, because you’re not fucking around with Chuck — who definitely pays people, by the way.” Wade’s voice is loud and annoying. “So come help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.”

The sharp snikt of Logan’s claws slicing through his own skin occurs not half a second after Wade rolls off of him.

“For the last fucking time,” Logan growls. He can feel his own throat rumble, his self-control slipping as the alcohol suffuses his cells. “No.”

Wade crouches in the middle of Logan’s living room, ready to pounce. The upturned corners of his lips are visible even beneath the mask. “It’s not even a hit job. More of a rescue, really. And it’s delightfully silly. And afterwards we can do a little horizontal — “

Logan scowls. “Stop.”

His muscles are heavy, drawing him further back into the couch. He shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Wilson is a clown, but he’s not incompetent. Logan’s heart races against an impending sense of danger.

All at once, Wade collapses onto his ass. He pulls out his phone, gaze fixed on the screen. Logan couldn’t relax if he wanted to.

“Okay, I hear that you’re setting a boundary. Lisa’s been telling me a lot about those. So I’m willing to stop talking about sex. If you come with me.”

“And yet you apparently didn’t hear me when I told you to leave.”

Logan leans forward. Moonlight stretches down the length of his claws in reflection.

“Come on, Logan, we all know you weren’t being serious then.” Wade flaps his wrist dismissively. He’d probably still be cracking jokes if Logan were to snap it. “Which is definitely how it works. And you can’t say otherwise because you don’t even go to therapy.”

Logan says nothing. Wade stares at him, as if waiting for a response.

“If you did, your therapist would definitely tell you that you should come with me. And also that you should probably go hit up your good ol’ bubs the — “

“No.”

Logan stands. His patience is running out. He’s wobbly, unsteady. Wade’s fast. A bloodthirsty cacophony clamors in the back of his mind. Two kicks would leave Wade’s brains splattered across a broken television screen, a left hook could snap his neck on the edge of the coffee table, triplet blades rending flesh from his heart down to his gut leaving him flopping like a fish out of water on the carpet — 

“Fine.” Wade sighs. He stares down at his phone. Logan itches for violence. “I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice.”

The sound of dice rolling fills the apartment. Wade gasps, turning his phone screen to display a mischievous-looking emoji with an angel halo. A beat passes with Logan’s head tilted in utter confusion.

“Chaotic heroic. I love this one. Always so weird.”

Swiftly, he pops open the velcro of one of his pouches. Logan’s eyes go wide as he pulls out a grenade.

“Wade,” Logan says. His voice is tense, pulse thundering in his ears. Wade’s attitude had felt strange — stranger — but he hadn’t anticipated this. “Put that down. This is an apartment building. There are innocent people here.”

With a giggle, Wade stands. He loops one finger through the pull ring, swinging it casually around his finger. “Oh, I know.”

Logan lunges at him. Wade sidesteps easily, laughing as Logan sprawls inelegantly across the floor. His limbs are heavy, the air baring down on him as he pushes himself up.

“I don’t know what kinda psycho fuckin’ meltdown you’re having because your girl dumped you, Wilson, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you — “

A hand held over his heart. “Wow. Last-named. The hurt. How would you feel if I called you — wait, what is your last name?”

“I’m not gonna let you kill a bunch of people for no goddamn reason.”

A swipe, dodged. Wade’s pressed flat against his front door. Logan throws his fist, embedding his claws in the wood instead of Wade’s skull. He screams as he yanks them out.

“Wow, Logan. It’s only been six months and you’ve gotten so slow! Or is it the alcohol?”

One last shot. Logan goes for his gut, but Wade’s too fast. He’s across the room before Logan’s halfway through the swing.

There’s no fanfare when he decided to stop playing games.

“Relax,” he calls from across the room. Logan watches in horror as he pulls the pin, tossing the grenade live across the living room. “This’ll only take a second.”

***

“Wakey-wakey, peanut.”

A finger taps his nose. Logan’s head throbs. His eyelids scrape like sandpaper. The sun is rising at the end of a long, thin stretch of highway.

Logan surges, movement stopped by the seatbelt.

Wade clicks his tongue in the driver’s seat. “I told you I didn’t wanna do this, Logan.”

“Sunuvabitch,” Logan mutters. His hands are bolted behind his back, ankles tied together. A thick chain secures the thick cuffs above his knees to a metal rod beneath the seat. “What the fuck — “

“Now, Logan.” Wade’s voice is chastizing, like he’s talking to a child. Logan seethes. “Before you extend those pretty little claws of yours — “

The upholstery of the passenger’s seat tears. Logan struggles only to find he doesn’t have enough leverage to slice through the metal holding the seat together. The seatbelt stretching across his chest locks his back flat against the back of the seat.

“That was literally what I just — “ Wade groans, smacking himself in he forehead. “This is why I can’t have nice things. You know I got this car from Spiderman, tricked the whole thing out, gave it a roof, and you just come in here with your little honey badger shit and just — “

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Logan screams.

“Calm down,” Wade says. “You’d think a little nap would make you less cranky. And before you ask, everyone is fine. It was just a little gas. I can’t believe you thought I would actually blow up an apartment building for fun.”

“I,” Logan rasps, “am going to fucking kill you.”

“Easier said than done,” Wade chirps. “Believe me, I’ve tried. Also, I’m driving this car on an incredibly busy highway so anything you do to me is likely to result in some random bystanders dying in a fiery car crash.”

Logan turns to look out the window. In the span of a few seconds, Wade blasts pasts one, two, three other cars on the right. 

“How fucking fast are you — “

“Uh…” The car twists into the right lane, then back into the left. “110. Thereabouts.”

Logan grits his teeth. He doesn’t know what else he expected.

“You know I’m just going to kill you whenever I have the chance.”

“And in the meantime, we have the opportunity to get in some quality time together while I convince you that — “

“Kidnapping me is not starting off on a good foot.”

“We weren’t on a good foot in the first place, Logan. And you know whose fault that was?” Logan curses under his breath as the right side wheels of the car lift from the pavement as Wade rounds a curve in the highway. “You. And you know, it didn’t have to be this way. We had a good thing going for awhile, me and you. And you had that wholesome daddy-daughter dynamic going on with X-whatever — “

“Her name is Laura.”

“ — not to say that we don’t also have a daddy-daughter dynamic of a different flavor going on.”

“You’re a disgusting son of a bitch, you know that?” Anger coils in the pit of Logan’s stomach as Wade dodges around another car. The violent honking fades out quickly.

“Very aware, thank you! But you just had to do the same shit you always do — “

“You don’t know shit about me, bub.”

“ — and leave. And being me, I was going to go look for you, but Vanessa, she’s all he has his reasons and he has to go on his own journey to figure out who he is and you need to leave people alone if they want to be left alone — “

“So your girl dumped you again and that’s my problem, somehow?”

“Something like that!” He’s wearing his suit again, leather-gloved fingers strangling the steering wheel. “So the job is outside of Milwaukee, not too far from here actually, really low-level stuff but I tried to take ‘em out last week and it was somewhat of a comical failure.”

The car jerks from side to side as Wade weaves through traffic. The back of Logan’s head throbs with a hangover — from the bottle of whiskey or from whatever Wade had dosed him with, he’s not sure. He holds in a growl and resists the urge to scream. The desire to completely lose control bubbles up in the pit of his stomach. He struggles to come up with a good justification not to.

“And I know what you’re thinking, Logan - wow, can’t believe this guy is skipping right over the emotional trauma of losing his girlfriend for the third or fourth time, depending on how you count it, and he’s totally emotionally dodging all of the important feelings that he’s feeling right now.” 

Logan closes his eyes, breathing in and out through his nose. Wade Wilson is a fucking shitstain of a human being. This isn’t new information to him.

“And you would be totally right — “ The image of Wade in blue, scrambling from rooftop to rooftop flashes across Logan’s mind. Bells jingling, laughter echoing, blood dripping from the sack thrown over his shoulder as he lobs a severed arm directly at Logan’s face. The car lurches as he skids around a little white sedan on the right, barely managing to avoid scraping the barrier on the right that stands between the car and the ditch below. “But that’s not even the point right now, because we have to break into a top-secret bse to stage a rescue mission for our comrade-in-arms — “

“Pull over.”

Logan’s head is pounding. Wade finally shuts up. The stench of his sweat is tangy in Logan’s nostrils.

“What?”

“Pull the fucking car over and untie me. I’ll help you.”

The seatbelt cuts into Logan’s chest when Wade slams on the breaks.

It’s a little scenic overlook. A car races past them, honking. Wade turns to stare at him for an unsettlingly silent moment.

“Damn, okay.”

The door slams behind him. He swings his hips exaggeratedly as he rounds the hood. Logan is overcome with the urge to rip out his throat. 

“Not to look a gift horse in the mouth,” Wade starts as he opens the passenger-side door, “but why, exactly, would you agree to help me?”

Logan clenches his jaw. Wade unties his ankles first, then unlocks the cuffs around his thighs before he glances up expectantly. Logan tries to mask the seething violence raging just underneath his skin. Given the way that Wade winks flirtatiously at him, he suspects that he’s failed.

“I’m already here, aren’t I?” Logan speaks through gritted teeth.

Wade shrugs. He unbuckles Logan’s seatbelt. “Fair enou—”

Logan’s shoulder smacks into Wade’s nose with as much force as he can muster. Wade’s body sprawls back. His head thunks loudly against first the metal barrier, then the asphalt. The tip of Logan’s boot seeks out Wade’s windpipe and bears down just hard enough to cut off his air. Wade’s eyelids flutter.

“Oh, how I hate to lose,” Wade mutters. Logan crouches to pick up the key from the ground, quickly unlocking his own wrists. “But how I love to lose.”

“Don’t make any goddamn sense, bub.” He rolls Wade over with the toe of his boot, forehead scraping against the barrier once again. Wade is dazed, groaning. Logan scoffs when he feels Wade lift his own arms for Logan to lock them behind his back.

Logan doesn’t have time for this. Or at least not the damn energy. He fully intends to get back in the driver’s seat, book it back to his dingy little apartment just long enough to grab the few important items he has. Losing the damn car should really be the least of Wade’s problems.

But when Logan stares down at him, face-down in the gravel, moaning just a little too loudly as he writhes around on the ground — he feels bad. There have been more times than Logan can count that he’s looked far more pathetic than Wade has right now. Tried to pull himself up by his bootstraps every time, completely failed more often than not.

Logan sighs. He flips Wade back over, hauls him up by the nape of his suit, and tosses him into the passenger’s seat.

He’s about to slam the door shut when he thinks to unbuckle Wade’s belt. He tosses it — pouches, holsters, guns and all — into the back seat.

“Wow, daddy,” Wade mutters. “I didn’t know you were into bondage.”

Logan scowls at him. “Don’t make me regret not leavin’ you on the side of the road, Wilson.”

“Daddy, if you wanted to play rough, all you had to do was — “

Logan slams the door in his face.

“Ask.” Wade finishes his sentence as soon as Logan re-enters on the driver’s side.

“Tired of watchin’ you drive like a fuckin’ maniac.” Logan pulls the seat up, then adjusts the mirrors. Wade keeps his mouth shut about the difference in height — smart. “Gonna fucking kill someone.”

“Fair, but you didn’t need to tie me up. We should at least pull up Google Maps so we know where we’re going — “ 

Logan pulls back onto the highway as soon as he sees a break in traffic, then turns to shoot Wade an incredulous look.

“I’m no goin’ to help you. I’m goin’ home.” He pulls into a parking lot on the left and hangs a right. The dashboard flashes 6:33 AM at him. The bags under his eyes tug at his eyelids. He wishes he was drunk.

“Wow,” Wade says. “I cannot believe the X-Man, Wolverine, is a liar.”

“I can’t believe that known asshole, Deadpool, would kidnap a guy — oh, wait. I can believe that.”

Wade ignores him. “I come all the way out to bumfuck nowhere to magnanimously kidnap you to get you out of your sad wolf boy depressive slump, just as you once did for me — well, I also kidnapped you then, didn’t I?” Logan rubs at his face, trying to tune Wade out. He accelerates up to the speed limit. “And that totally got me out of a depressive slump. Ultimate message: kidnapping works.”

For a beat, Wade pauses as if waiting for a response. Logan ignores him.

“And at the end of the day, after everything I’ve done for you, you repay me by going directly back to where you came from?”

“Yes.”

Wade leans forward. Probably trying to break out of those handcuffs — ain’t subtle. Logan hadn’t bothered to actually restrain him in any meaningful way. As annoying and insistent as Wade is, Logan can’t imagine he has much steam left for this ridiculous charade. 

“You won’t even come with me to help me on an actually magnanimous quest?”

“No.”

The silence stretches out. Wade sighs.

“Come on, man. You gotta be real with me for a second. What gives? We had a good thing going for a couple of months. Little team-up here, over at my place for dinner every once in a while, making friends with my friends. And I know the drinking was getting pretty bad — which like, if I’m saying that, you know that’s real because I have literally a full pound of cocaine stashed away in my apartment — “

He doesn’t. Logan would’ve been able to smell it.

“And you had this whole ridiculous self-hating thing about how you’re not allowed to just cheat and be an X-man in this universe. But things were good. I thought that we were building something good together. And we were going to get past it.”

Logan feels the steering wheel creak under the force of his grip.

“Oh, buddy. There it is. Come on, hit me, baby. Let is all out.”

“You wanna know why I left, Wade?” Logan snaps.

“Yes. Very clearly. That’s why I asked.”

“Because wrecking your entire world, resulting in the deaths of thousands of people, is not the kind of shit you get to just brush off and pretend didn’t happen so you can go play house with alternate versions of the people that you got fucking killed.”

He’s panting. For a moment, Logan’s eyes go unfocused. Particles of his own spit have splattered across the windshield.

“Oh, boo-hoo. So Wolvie has to punish himself for being the big evil bad guy, as if saving literally every life in the multiverse didn’t absolve him.” 

There’s a note of cruelty in his tone that makes Logan want to throw him out the window.

“Doing something good doesn’t make the bad shit you’ve done in the past okay.”

“Mm, pretty sure it does, actually.” 

There’s sarcasm dripping from Wade’s tone. Mean, self-absorbed. Logan aches for Kurt — would’ve told him that sin is in the nature of being human, that he’d already more than proven himself worthy of his continued existence, then make a joke that was actually funny.

Unfortunately, that version of Kurt is long dead.

“You see all these cars around us?” Wade gestures at the vehicles zipping by. “I’m the reason they’re all alive. They all owe me. Which means it doesn’t matter if I kill that guy, or those people, or that old lady, or — “

“You’re worse than the last time I saw you.”

There was a spark in that little rant that reminds logan of Wade — the other one. He had still been alive when this Wade had kidnapped him, at least as far as Logan is aware. Guys like the two of them are hard to kill. The way Logan had heard it, he’d gotten cut to pieces a few months after shit started to really hit the fan. Took him five or six years to come back. Logan had always figured it was the pain that had sent him off the deep end. Now Logan wonders if it was the realization of just how alone he was.

“Yeah,” Wade agrees. “I wonder if that has something to do with the fact that my people keep leaving me.”

Logan breathes in. He waits for Wade to continue, for sarcastic comments. Nothing comes.

“You know this doesn’t have anything to do with you, right?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s not you, it’s me. Oldest trick in the book.”

Logan can’t hide his incredulous reaction. “We’re not dating. You know that, right?”

Wade squints. “Tell that to the Honda Odyssey. And Madonna. And my asshole.”

It occurs to Logan that crashing the car might not be an entirely undesirable experience.

“You have a girlfriend.”

“Had. Past-tense. She left, too.”

“You know you’re just gonna get right back together after you’ve gotten over whatever kind of breakdown this is, right? And your gal’s a pretty straight shooter. Just figure out whatever it is that she wants you to figure out — “

“Not this time. All-in-all, pretty good confirmation that I am actually worth dogshit despite my magnanimous multiverse-saving tendencies. And I’m not having a breakdown.”

Logan wonders if this is what it’s like talking to him.

“You understand that these two situations we’re talking about have literally nothing in common.” Wade kicks his feet. It feels like talking to a child.

“I don’t know, feels just about a gut-stabby from my perspective.”

“We are not dating. We’re — “ Logan hesitates over the word friend. “We don’t have a thing.”

“Oh, how the mind loves to rewrite history. We definitely have a thing, peanut. Or at least we did.”

Logan scoffs. At the end of his rope, he snaps, “You are such a fuckin’ narcissist.”

“Acknowledging that we had a good thing going which was then ruined by you leaving has nothing to do with my narcissism.” He thinks he’s so fuckin’ funny.

“No, thinking that me leaving is some reflection on you is narcissistic.”

Wade leans in over the center console, eyes narrowed. “‘Bout to throw you a curveball, peanut: thinking that I wouldn’t see you leaving as a reflection on my own self-worth is narcissistic. We are just the same, you and I. Two bloodthirsty little peas in a pod — “

Logan pushes Wade away, palm spanning most of the area of his face. “You think this is how you’re going to get me to help you out? Being an annoying fuckin’ asshole?”

“No.” Logan can hear the smirk in his voice. “I think that being an annoying asshole is how I’m going to get you to fuck me. Hold on.”

To Logan’s complete and utter exhaustion, Wade takes his hands out from behind his back. He pulls his phone out of his pocket, pulling up that stupid fucking app again. He glances up at Logan, muttering, “Pretend you’re not seeing this, it made me pop a l’il half-chub when you tied me up. That shit was hot.”

The words, you know there’s a reason people keep leaving you, right? sit heavy on Logan’s tongue. He wants to punch Wade in the side of the head, drag him out of the car, slice and hack and cut until he finally shuts the fuck up. Shame immediately follows the thought. A hundred sets of lips curl around the word bloodthirsty in his mind’s eye.

Wade taps away at his phone, swearing. Logan watches him re-roll multiple times. He had really tried to tear Wade down in the Honda whatever. Wade had pissed him off, and Logan wanted to tear him down. Force him to end whatever stupid little delusion he had in his head about saving the world. 

Wade hadn’t klet him. A fucked-up kind of stubborn that Logan can’t help but admire when he thinks about it. Logan wishes he had that same level of dedication.

“Okay, fuck yes. True neutral. Nice.”

Logan sighs. Can’t believe he’s developing a soft spot for Wade Wilson, of all people.

That soft spot melts away as soon as Wade sprawls across the front seat to set his head in Logan’s lap.

His leg jerks. Wade’s head bounces but remains firmly on Logan’s thigh. “What the fuck are you doin’, you want us to get in an accident?”

“No, I rolled true neutral. So obviously, I’m introducing you to the idea that I could give you road head. But I’m not pushing you strongly either way.”

Logan grits his teeth.

With barely-contained force, he shoves Wade’s head off of his lap and pulls the car off to the side of the road. Pines as far as the eye can see. He pulls the keys out of the ignition. 

“Get outta the car.”

Wade pouts. “But daddy, I can’t. You tied me up.”

Logan watches as he tries to slide the handcuffs back onto himself. He grabs Wade by the front of his costume and spits in his face.

“You,” Logan hisses, “are bein’ fuckin’ ridiculous. Over here actin’ like this is a fuckin’ porno every chance you get cause you think that’s gonna make you feel better about your girl fuckin’ leaving. I am not your personal fuckin’ attention fountain, or your daddy, or whatever the fuck you think this is. Get out of the car.”

He throws Wade into the passenger’s side door.

Logan shoves the keys into his pockets as he walks away. He doesn’t look back. A few moments later, he hears the crunch of Wade’s boots against the pine needles. Without a word, he follows Logan.

“Oh,” Wade pipes up after they’ve walked a few hundred feet in silence. “This is like a game. We’re going to roleplay Twilight: New Moon? You know, in this universe there’s this weird tangential link between 9/11 and — “

“Shut up.”

Wade does. Logan takes a deep breath before he turns around.

There had been a lot of people in Logan’s life that he’d wanted to help only to completely and utterly fail. He remembers how proud he’d felt when he’d first heard Wade mention his ten people, that’s it. Logan had mattered. He had changed something for the better.

Wade stands in front of him, this ball of self-destruction, compulsively pushing and pulling the people around him with his stupid jokes, and Logan can’t help but feel as if he’s failed yet again.

“If I need to beat the fucking horny out of you before you can have a conversation like an adult, fine.”

Wade tilts his head. “Who’s saying I won’t beat the horny out of you first?”

“I’m not fuckin’ horny, Wade.”

The tension escalates. Logan swallows.

“That half-chub I sniffed earlier begs to differ.” Logan says nothing, jaw clenched. “How about this: winner gets to do whatever the fuck they want to the loser.”

Logan snorts. “Okay, bub.”

Wade taps his finger on his chin. He arches his back, teasing. “Just no teeth when I shove my cock in your mouth, okay? That’s no way to win a fight.”

He wags a chastising finger at Logan. It looks ridiculous. Logan desperately wishes he wasn’t into it. 

“Don’t feel like that really even needed to be said.” Logan’s eyes flicker down to Wade’s belt. No idea when he had retrieved it from the back seat. “No guns.”

Wade throws his hands up dramatically. “What the fuck, come on!”

“This ain’t bumfuck nowhere. Unless you want the fuckin’ cops called, no guns.” Logan smirks. “As if they’re gonna do you any goddamn good.”

“Fine.” Wade squints. He pulls each gun out of its holster, releases the magazines onto the ground with a dull little thud, and tosses them off to the side. “No guns.”

Logan’s claws extend with a satisfying snikt.

“And my mask doesn’t come off.”

Quietly, Logan scoffs. “Whatever.”

[pangzi]

Weilan WIP (almost) Wednesday?

The doors to the lecture hall fly open. A few of his students yelp in surprise. 

Shen Wei is on edge immediately. He turns towards the door quickly, dark energy already swirling in his hand hidden behind his desk. It dissipates immediately when he sees it’s no other than his own bewildered husband who burst into his classroom so rudely. It doesn’t lessen the anxious pressure in his chest, though. If anything, he’s even more worried now.

Zhao Yunlan looks more put together than he has in days, as he has been hunched over his desk 24/7 trying to solve a case. His hair is still a mess but he has changed out of his pyjamas and seems to have even washed his face. There’s a confident, cocky grin on his face as he puts his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry for interrupting class,” he apologises, “I need to borrow your professor for a moment, it’s an emergency. It will only take a moment, I promise.” 

A few of his students giggle and start whispering to each other. Shen Wei just ignores it, interacting will only make it worse. So, he just straightens his jacket and clears his throat. Then he nods curtly to Zhao Yunlan that he will follow him outside and gives the class a short instruction to keep them busy while he is gone.

Once out of the room, he immediately checks Zhao Yunlan for any sign of injury. “Zhao Yunlan what’s going on? Are you okay?” 

Zhao Yunlan sighs deeply, as if there’s something heavy weighing him down. He reaches out and adjusts Shen Wei’s tie, patting down his chest before finally speaking. “I think you forgot something very important when you left for work this morning.” 

He forgot something? That doesn’t sound right. Did he have essays to return to students? No, that’s for next week. Did he forget his notebook? No, he always leaves that in his office. What could he have possibly forgotten that is so important for Zhao Yunlan to rush over like this? 

Zhao Yunlan pats him on the chest one last time before grabbing his tie and pulling Shen Wei closer. He presses a firm kiss to his lips. 

“Zhao Yunlan,” Shen Wei sputters, utterly scandalised as he tries to make sense of what just happened. He quickly adjusts his tie again as he looks around to see if there was anyone around who could have seen them. Only Zhao Yunlan would dare to be so utterly shameless in the middle of Shen Wei’s workplace.

“Don’t you dare leave for work ever again without that,” Zhao Yunlan warns before turning around with a proud grin and sauntering off. 

[inafieldofdaisies]

What Would Your OC Sing At Karaoke Night? Tag | Tagged by @g0dspeeed <3

If your OC was at a karaoke night, what would be their go-to song? Would they even partake? Bonus points for a little story.

Okay, for ages I so had this idea how Sabrina would go full Kate Carver (Walker: Independence, gif under the cut) and do a little impression of John as a joke. @g0dspeeed's WIP Monday post and mention of Cappie's karaoke song so became a sign it's time to talk about this. Snippet below. I will probably do a separate post for Calahan and Mercedes one day. :D

All can be cured with a payment Yea, trust in the blind Faith in the hands of the faithless And beautiful lies You are one step away from annihilation! Ooh, do ya feel the heat? From below Send a sign to me, the next one’ll pay me in gold I don’t know how to lose I know that you think that I’m some kind of savior But I’m the broker of sin Just a coin for your wrongs, and I’ll cleanse ya Oh, what did you do? Yes your riches can purchase atonement Oh, what did you do? There’s a price to be paid and you owe it!

"Go out with me just once. Please.", Sabrina had asked with such hopeful expression John had found himself unable to say no to her idea to drag him out to the Spread Eagle. This is exactly where he had ended up few hours later: in front of the entrance to the bar, music and chatter spilling into the night air. "You have to give them a chance.", she said with conviction, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Deputy-", he mumbled, knowing full well things weren't about to go as smooth as she expected them to. "I mean it, John.", her voice became stern as she took hold of his hand and pushed the door open, dragging him inside. The second they stepped over the threshold, it was like the whole atmosphere of the bar shifted. The chatter died down significally and all eyes zeroed in on the two of them, yet Sabrina seemed oblivious to everyone's wary stares as she ran towards Hartley and enveloped him into a hug. Calahan kept his arms around her for longer than John could tolerate and had the audacity to wink at his narrowed gaze. "I will be damned, Gray. He actually came.", Hartley exclaimed as he finally let go of Sabrina and nodded in his direction in a greeting. A start. A hand hit the Deputy's back, "You owe me 50, Cal." "Les, don't tell me you bet on it.", there was a hint of warning in Sabrina's tone, but her eyes softening in Leslie's direction told a different story. "I bet for him and it was Calahan's idea. Blame him, Rina.", he shrugged as he sat back down in his seat. "Sit.", Sabrina whispered to John, then turned to her friends, "Everyone, play nice."

Calahan snorted at the same time Leslie shook his head. "Brin, nice isn't exactly my forte these days, but I'd try.", Mercedes finally spoke up, sending a smirk his way as John removed his jacket and sank into the chair next to hers, "Hello, brother… in-law. Guess some things never change, eh?" He was still getting used to her personality after she had shed her Mercy act. On the small stage, Sharky Boshaw was taking his turn at Karaoke night, clearly set on a mission to burst everyone's eardrums with Hurk Jr. as his back-up singer. "Wooohoo.", Harley cheered, raising his lighter in the air like he was at a concert not at shameless public torture. Not the kind I'd enjoy, too. "How uncomfortable are you on the scale of 1 to 10, brother?", Mercedes muttered before letting a laugh, "It's cute you're here, I'd give you that. Jacob would never. I tried." "I'm just peachy." "Liar.", she patted his shoulder, "A drink would help." "No." "Mer." "He's fine, Brin. I'm not going to eat him." An hour that felt like eternity to him passed where locals tried their hardest to do an impression of an America's Got Talent reject. "I'm up next, yo.", Hartley announced as he headed for the stage and blew a kiss towards Mary May who was manning the bar as usual, "This one is for a certain special someone. Not you, John." Laughter sounded all around them as the music started and he slipped into the song while Sabrina rested her head against John's shoulder and grabbed his hand, "We can go if it's too much…" "We're staying, Deputy.", his eyes found hers and a side of him wished they were back at the ranch, but he meant what he had said. "Okay. I'm off to the ladies room. Be right back.", she said and left after dropping a quick peck on his lips. By the time Hartley wrapped up his performance and came back to the table, she still hadn't returned, her absence making him worry. "Oh, this is going to be fuuuuuun.", Mercedes sing-songed and she leaned forward, the secretive expression on her face giving John a pause. Hartley nodded with a knowing smile and took a sip from his beer. John was about to get up and look for Sabrina when the lights in the bar went off for a beat as another song started. The second they came back on, he was staring at her on stage, wearing none other than his jacket as she bit her lip and looked in his direction. When did you even grab it, Deputy? People cheered when her melodic voice took over the room, her presence mesmerizing everyone, including him. In that moment, sitting through a whole hour of terrible singing and uncomfortable stares seemed all worth it. It took him a while to realize why she had chosen the song, by the time she got to the second verse and bridge, he had no doubt it was about him.

♫ I know that you think that I’m some kind of savior But I’m the broker of sin Just a coin for your wrongs, and I’ll cleanse ya Oh, what did you do? Yes your riches can purchase atonement Oh, what did you do?♫

She was wearing his jacket. Singing about sin. Successfully breaking the ice and acknowledging the elephant in the room so people can move on. "Now, that one is about you, chief.", Calahan uttered out and whistled as Sabrina's song came to an end. Clapping followed her as she returned to the table and plopped down into John's lap. "How angry did that make you?", she asked, kissing his cheek while her hands wrapped around his neck. "It didn't. It was a sight to behold." "Yeah?" "You look good in my jacket, what can I say?", his lips hovered over to hers, not quite touching. "Jesus, get a room.", Hartley fake-coughed, "You truly are a goner, Seed. I expected you to storm out, all broody. Not pass the test." "I'm drinking to that.", Mercedes raised her hand in a toast, "To unlikely company that ain't so bad after a few drinks." Seconds passed, where John expected nobody to join in, then Calahan clicked his bottle against her glass, prompting Leslie to do the same before Sabrina followed suit, too. "I'm next, people.", Mercedes declared as she strutted over to the stage, no doubt catching many eyes on her way. Good thing Jacob didn't come. John was certain the night would have ended differently, possibly in a fight instead of with Sabrina sitting in his lap, surrounded by friends for hours until the two of them emerged back out, ready to head home. "Drive safe.", Calahan called out before taking a drag of his cigarette and adding, "See you next Friday, Seed. You still owe me, so don't think of ditching us." "See… told you he's coming around.", Sabrina said, unable to hold back her smile, "Thank you for tonight." "Anything for you.", John retorted as she snuggled closer to him and he put an arm around her in attempts to keep her warm on their way to her father's Bronco.

Kate:

Tagging @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @euryalex @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @trench-rott @josephslittledeputy @dumbassdep @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @neonneurons @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @poisonedtruth @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @voidika @harmonyowl @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners and anyone that would like to do the tag <3

[andypantsx3]

hello andie!! i hope the end of the year has been treating you well!! i'd like to ask 7, 61 and 62 for the ask game!✨️

Hi Birdie!!!! Right back at you!! I hope you have had plenty of time to rest up (and let that full length Bakugou fic I think I heard we are getting from you marinate)!! 😌😌😌

7. Post a snippet from a wip.

I'm gonna switch it up and give you a little snippet from a Kaminari WIP I talked about a long time ago!! Where he is a shameless flirt with everyone in the world, so we don't realize until it's almost too late that he's actually in love with us. 😌

“Saw you nabbed the subway crawler,” Kirishima said happily, leaning in to give Kaminari a fistbump. “Congrats, man.” A smirk pulled at Kaminari’s mouth, and he rolled the sleeve of his jacket up proudly. “That’s not all I nabbed,” he said. On his forearm, smudged blue pen spelled out a phone number and a name you recognized as the reporter’s from earlier, the ink slightly runny from Kaminari’s quick shower. Mina groaned, and Sero banged his head on the table. Kirishima’s grin turned rueful. Several hands were suddenly stuffing bills at you, and you accepted them with a carefully blank expression. Kaminari whipped around to stare at you, his eyes accusing. “No way, you guys bet on me?”  You looked up at him as innocently as you could manage. “It was more a bet on her than anything.” Kaminari’s golden gaze narrowed in on you. He leaned forward, right back into your space. “So, why did you think she was going to give me her number?” He was clearly fishing for a compliment from you, waiting for you to tell him how charming he was or acknowledge that no woman could resist him. You pushed him away with a firm hand on his chest, waving the money in front of him smugly. “You’re so predictable,” you said instead. “Now let me out, I’m going to buy a drink with my new-found fortune.”

61. In [insert fic], what’s your favorite scene that you wrote?

Oooh since you didn't give a specific fic I'm going to shamelessly plug in incendiary!! My favorite scene is when Bakugou and Reader end up wrestling while negotiating whether Reader can go onto New Day Japan and do the interview. I had wanted to write the physicality of that scene for sooooo long, like Reader's panic when she realizes she's just grabbed a trained combat professional, Bakugou's smugness as he holds her down, and the way the underlying tension, not only of Reader's emotional state throughout the fic, but their unresolved sexual tension finally all come to a head on that yoga mat. :3

62. In [insert fic], is there a deleted scene/idea you wish you could have included?  Why did it get cut?

I'm again going to plug in a fic of my choice if that's cool!! In in cinders, I had a scene in mind where Shouto hides Reader away while guards are looking for her, but I couldn't get it to work. I wanted him to hide her in the suite intended for the crown princess, which can only be accessed through the crown prince's rooms, and may only be entered by the crown prince and princess hehehe. I wanted the implication of Reader being in there to sort of hang in the air. But I didn't have a good way to make it work with the plot so I axed it, although I did mention the rooms in a bonus drabble. But I might figure out a way to plug that into a future prince Shouto fic because I looove that idea; the tension once the guards leave and Shouto and Reader are alone in the rooms only his future bride is supposed to enter. 😌

[watching-pictures-move]

Movie Review | 99 Women (Franco, 1969)

In some ways, Women in Prison is the perfect genre for Jess Franco. On the one hand, it’s a good way for him to integrate his antifascist politics into his work. The warden is an obvious proxy for an authoritarian leader. And this movie in particular positions the prison (nicknamed the “Castillo de la Muerte”) in the context of the greater political system. And with Maria Schell’s kindly reformer character, Franco explores the difficulty of trying to do good within a fascist system. "I seem to be a victim of a disease that does not flourish behind prison walls. I suffer from an excess of humanity." (In terms of dialogue, this is one of the most sharply written Franco films I’ve seen so far.)

On the other hand, it’s a good outlet for his exploitative tendencies. This movie is very much in line with classic WIP tropes, but there’s no denying that Franco has a good handle on them. A lot of this movie’s success comes from the casting of the usual WIP roles. You have Mercedes McCambridge as the cruel warden, doing a lot of histrionics but bringing an intensity that keeps her character from becoming pure camp. ("It is not meant to be a happy place.”) You have an icy Herbert Lom as the torturer, lent an additional steeliness from his tiny glasses and his stand collar jacket. You have some sympathetic presences among the prisoners in the likes of Maria Rohm, Luciana Paluzzi and others, and an appealingly vicious one in Rosalba Neri, who was one of the primary factors in me seeking this out.

You know she’s treated differently than the others because unlike them, she wears stockings, although this isn’t quite as shameless as later WIP efforts from Franco, as the prisoners at least have underwear, instead of the no pants look you get in stuff like Barbed Wire Dolls so Franco can zoom in on bush with some regularity. But at the same time, Franco complicates matters by giving her a sympathetic backstory and letting something of a heart emerge as the movie progresses.

And while this is less explicit than later efforts, Franco is still getting off on the titillating elements. He directs the flashbacks with a sense of stylization that evoke the covers of tawdry paperbacks, letting the sheer visual lushness brush up against the ugliness of the content. And in classic Franco fashion, we get a whipping scene and a sexy nightclub performance with arresting lighting changes. This also gets some bonus points from me for the great song that opens the movie, “Day I Was Born”, sung by Barbara McNair in soaring vocals with girl group style accompaniment.

So I liked this quite a bit, but I do think this loses some steam during the escape attempt in the last third, as Franco gets less visual mileage out of the wilderness than the prison environment. And there’s a pretty unfortunate scene where the characters harm a snake for real during that stretch. So while I do recommend seeking this out, you may need to brace yourself for that scene.

[saxophone-siphonophore]

[Part 1] [Part 2]

I like drawing character fusions, but I haven’t gotten a chance to do it often. So as a bit of shameless self-ingulgence I decided to try my hand at that hexafusion meme that was somewhat popular some years ago, this time using the Destiny Islands trio from the Kingdom Hearts franchise. I chose their original KH1 desgins in particular because I personally prefer them over most of their other looks (with the exception of Riku. His DDD look is perfect).

The rest are currently a WIP, so for the time being allow me to introduce you to the fusion of Sora and Kairi, which I have nicknamed: Suihei (sky + ocean = horizon).

Some notes after the cut.

Fun fact: this is actually my second attempt. My first attempt had Sora’s jumpsuit plus Kairi’s skirt mix into a dress reminiscent of Kairi’s KH2 look, but then there was a jacket on top of that tried to take in elements of Kairi’s top but the end result just looked like a mess.

See, a good tip for designing character fusions, I find, is to remember that you’re free to shuffle design elements however you want, even within the same component character. Sora’s jumpsuit and jacket are obviously two separate articles of clothing in his design, as are Kairi’s skorts and overshirt in hers, but for Suihei I combined elements of the four into a single piece, rather than only combining elements from parts analogous or within the same general location between both component characters. Of course, sometimes a staight cut-and-paste job will do, hence why I left Kairi’s undershirt as is; I tried to tint it red to invoke more of Sora’s jumpsuit beneath his jacket, but the black fit the new look better.

For the pose, I grabbed the pose Kairi has in her KH1.5 official render (the one in the top left) and crossed the arms behind their neck like Sora does every 5 minutes. Thought literally stiching two iconic poses together would be a good way to demonstrate this fusion’s combined personality, which I imagine as quite witty and sharp-tongued. I probably won’t get away with it that next time.

Edit: I fixed some shading that was bothering me.

[chansaw]

Hey there! Hope you're hanging in there :) I'm someone who's constantly juggling project ideas and WIPs in their head, so I'm guessing you've got a lot to think about. But if you don't mind my asking, what are some aspects of your WIPs (any you want to talk about) that you're excited about? Scenes, or arcs, or themes, or whatever! Thank you!

HEY ANON!!!!!!!!! sorry this has been sittinig in my inbox for like EVER but its just because i have so much to talk about that my brain just kind of overheats like a macbook that's dying a slow and painful death.

okay first off: those of you who are familiar with my fics (shameless self plug) already know how much i enjoy writing existential horror, and i hope my yellowjackets animorphs au pays homage to that! applegrant (that is, k.a. applegate and her husband michael grant, who wrote the GONE series) gave me a deep appreciation and fascination for fucked up body horror stuff so i hope no return reflects that.

as for rottweilers: daniel waters' original pitch with heathers was "what if stanley kubrick wrote and directed a john hughes movie?" this is most evident in the cafeteria sequence at the start of the movement where veronica helps conduct the lunchtime poll; the whole scene was inspired by and pays tribute to the mess hall scenes in full metal jacket. heathers was probably the first movie to depict high school for what it really is: an active war zone.

yellowjackets challenges the viewer to consider "are the survivors the way they are because of the wilderness, or were they already monsters before the plane crashed?" personally, i think it's a little bit of both. however, one thing that's different between YJ and RW is that the yellowjackets already had an element of social cohesion before the crash - they went to parties together, jammed out in the locker room, etc. the westerburg girls are much more stratified, so the dynamics of power shift far more radically once their plane goes down. im excited to explore these tectonic shifts over the course of the story!

rottweilers is the most ambitious project i've ever decided to tackle - decidedly the longest. that's why i'm hoping to write at least four or five chapters in advance so i can drop them on a planned schedule. bc another part of what makes yellowjackets tick is its episodic nature, so hope that the end of each RW chapter/"episode" leaves you reeling the same way the cut to credits on yellowjackets does!

i'm also looking forward to weaving together the 1988 and 2013/14 (25 years later) timelines; it's such a fun narrative trick but it'll be challenging to pull off, even more so without the visual storytelling cues a tv show or movie would afford.

ANYWAYS SORRY this was a super long brain dump but i just love talking about my work so much so if you have any more questions ill try to answer them the best i can!!!! i love you anon and godspeed - we both got this o7

[mothdruid]

dad’s best friend!matt or dad’s colleague!matt (? where one day you go to your dad’s job and meet mr. murdock with that devilish smile, that honey voice with those sinful lips and all you can think about for the rest of the week is him. so you start going to your dad’s job more often only to see matt. and the fact that he can feel your thighs clenching everytime he talks or hear your heartbeat raise everytime he touches the small of your back asking for permission to grab something. and then, the flirting starts. just some casual innocent flirting that eventually gets into the insinuation and the shameless dirty jokes. one day, none of you remember who started or if a joke get too much out of control, but you two ended up fucking in the public bathroom of the office: him sitting in the toilet with his shirt messed up, the jacket of his suit on the floor and pants under his knees with his mouth on your tits and hands on your hips to help you ride him. OR you ended up laying down on his desk, with your panties in your mouth so none outside the office can hear how good he fucks you.

and any of the scenarios the line “you love this, don’t you sweetheart? love seducing your dad’s friends so they can fuck you with their big fat cocks just the way you like. fuck you better than those silly boys you date around the campus.”

— 🪴

🪴 anon you have me sobbing.

this idea is so fucking sweet. the way matt would know it's wrong but does it anyways. the way you know it's wrong but you do it anyways. the line too 🥵

after the first time you two fuck it's all downhill. constantly sneaking around to fuck in the office, his apartment, your dorm room??? ugh this would also be so angsty because you want to be public with your relationship but like clearly you can't be. but the fucking sex and dirty talk. primarly the dirty.

"what would you dad think if he saw this? his little girl bouncing on my cock, begging for me to make her cum."

yeah umm.. this totally isn't getting logged in the wips 🙈

[leupagus]

Working title: The Heat Wave that Shook Richmond

AUNTIE: I’m Extremely Concerned the Ted Lasso crew is letting James Lance pick out Trent’s outfits, and I find that distressing

GUS: HAHAHA

GUS: I will lose my entire mind if there's some scene of Trent at home and he's wandering around in a onesie

AUNTIE: You should write fic about Ted’s crisis of faith after seeing Trent in a onesie.

AUNTIE: Halfway unzipped

AUNTIE: Like the proud slut he is

GUS: honestly I think the sight of Trent's collarbone could well drive Ted into a victorian frenzy of confused lust

GUS: actually that would be hilarious if it was Ted pining and Trent oblivious

AUNTIE: I mean… did you SEE his ankles in the interview? Shameless!

GUS: THE HUSSY

AUNTIE: Obviously the man hates the sensation of clothes on his skin

GUS: I mean I also hate it when he wears clothes so I understand

GUS: but like Ted just falling apart at these scandalous glimpses of Trent's skin

GUS: another time they're on the practice field on a hot day (Trent works there now, wevs, details)

AUNTIE: Heat wave in England?

GUS: hey, global warming baybey

AUNTIE: Global warming has to be good for something

GUS: and Trent puts his hair up and it exposes the back of his neck

AUNTIE: I’M LISTENING

GUS: and Ted walks into the water table and sends all the bottles flying

GUS: and Beard is like "oh my god you embarassing moron" while Trent is concernedly leaning over Ted asking him how many fingers he's holding up

GUS: then obv the flash of ankle at the pub one night

AUNTIE: Trent wears a tank top and Ted becomes the idiot who walks into doorways

GUS: YES

GUS: like he's got on a jacket over it so it's not immediately evident

GUS: and then he has to take the jacket off for whatever reason and Ted's brain fizzes out

AUNTIE: Noooooooo! The sluttest of all combos!

GUS: oh and another one

GUS: Trent wears a sweater one day and Ted thinks he's safe

GUS: but then Trent has to reach up on a high shelf for something and Ted sees a sliver of his lower back

GUS: and he just wants to put his face on it

AUNTIE: Rude rude RUDE

GUS: I think the funniest thing would be if Trent 100% doesn't realize this is happening

GUS: like he's not wearing any of this with an Agenda in mind, totally oblivious

AUNTIE: And then Ted has to stammer out some excuse to leave and Trent is like “whoa, this man whilst never return my affections”

GUS: and when they finally get together Ted is like "some journalist you are, I've been staring at you with my tongue hanging out for like six months"

AUNTIE: Perfect. A+ fic draft. No notes.

GUS: hahahaha

AUNTIE: Add it to the WIP list!

AUNTIE: Working title: The Heat Wave that Shook Richmond

GUS: LOVE IT

GUS:

The whole thing started with a onesie.

Or maybe it started about a half-hour earlier than the onesie, back at the clubhouse with Ted realizing he still had Trent's tape recorder in his pocket. It was handed over about two hours earlier than that —

So maybe it started with Roy throwing a beer in Trent's face.

"OI," Mae thundered, slinging the bar towel over her shoulder much in the same way, Ted imagined, a medieval knight would settle his shield on his arm before wading into the fray.

"He's fucking lucky I don't smash the glass and throw that, too," Roy bellowed at her, before turning back to the table (where Ted *had* been having a very nice chat with Trent up to now) and jabbing his finger into Trent's chest. "The last time Ted gave you the time of day, you fucked him over good and proper. So if all this," he waves his hand at the Ted, the tape recorder, Trent's now-slightly-soggy notebook, "Is just you looking for something else to use in order to shit all over him, I'll shove the pieces down your fucking *throat.* You get me?"

"Roy, there's no call for that—" Ted tried, but it didn't seem to make much of a dent. Neither of them so much as glanced over at him, too busy glaring at each other.

"I've been nutted by Roy Keane, so apologies if I'm less than impressed with your feeble attempts at intimidation," Trent said, although the last word might have been something that *sounded* like intimidation because he got interrupted halfway through on account of Roy picking up Ted's drink and also throwing it in Trent's face.

"All right, that's enough," Ted says, getting to his feet and pushing Roy away. The man was built like a brick outhouse, but Ted had a whole inch on him and longer arms to boot. "You and me, we're gonna have a talk tomorrow about how we use our *words,* but I suggest you go on home, all right? Cool off, okay?"

Roy was still scowling over Ted's shoulder, where Trent was probably trying to wring out his hair or his jacket or something. "Yeah, all right," he said. "Just one other thing."

And with the kind of speed that had made him the scariest midfielder back in the day, he grabbed Trent's own beer and deposited the contents neatly into Trent's lap.

AUNTIE: OMG SCREAM

AUNTIE: And then Trent had to put on the onesie because it’s the only thing Mae has in the lost & found!!!!

AUNTIE: But the zipper is broken so it shows off his slutty little collarbone and his man cleavage!

GUS: haha no no

GUS: Trent goes home

GUS: and Ted realizes he still has Trent's tape recorder so he takes it to him

GUS: and Trent opens the door in the onesie

GUS: a matching one with his daughter

GUS: with like, elephants or something

AUNTIE: This is great so I’ll allow it.

GUS: yours was also great but I've already written Ted walking Trent to his car like a gentleman

AUNTIE: I understand. Whatever gets to us to the first peen touch is a blessing

AUNTIE: 🍆 ❤️ 👏

GUS: I'm actually trying to figure out what the instigating peen-touching event would be

GUS: Does Ted have a breaking point or what

AUNTIE: Car wash fundraiser with Trent wearing a white tshirt

AUNTIE: Ted loses his mind and pins Trent against the shed

AUNTIE: JUST AN IDEA

GUS: hahaha

GUS: What if Ted doesn't pin him up against the shed but like

GUS: is just full on peeved that he CAN'T

GUS: like he catches sight of Trent and is like "are you *kidding* me" and walks off

GUS: and Trent follows him like "what? what just... what??"

GUS: and Ted's like "I CAN SEE YOUR NIPPLES, TRENT, HOW MUCH DO YOU EXPECT A MAN TO TAKE HERE"

AUNTIE: AHAHAAAHA

AUNTIE: "...take to what??"

GUS: like Trent is still about ten minutes behind current events

GUS: which is very annoying for a journalist

AUNTIE: i like the flip of Trent being the dummy

GUS: Trent's like "I truthfully understood more of my interview with Colin Hughes and he insisted on doing the whole thing in Welsh"

AUNTIE: probably just decided Ted was A Straight and wrote him off

AUNTIE: and is meanwhile slowly driving him nipple nuts

GUS: oh absolutely

GUS: like definitely likes the cut of his jib

GUS: and likes him enormously as a person

AUNTIE: SO FRIENDLY. SUCH A NICE GUY.

GUS: but has absolutely no idea of anything HAPPENING ergo is just like living his best slut life

AUNTIE: Lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face

AUNTIE: and showing his happy little trail

GUS: yep yep

AUNTIE: while Ted has a sexual heart attack

GUS: at some point he has to roll up his sleeves and Ted's got to take a minute

AUNTIE: then Ted loses his mind and confronts Trent at the car wash and Trent's like "are you... Ted Lasso are you slut shaming me??!"

GUS: HAHAHAHA OH MY GOD

GUS: poor Ted would be completely derailed from his rage/lustboner

GUS: and be like I WOULD NEVER

GUS: BUT YOUR ANKLES ARE VERY DISTRACTING

AUNTIE: Then Trent gets riotously indignant and screams about how he overheats easily but EVEN IF HE DIDN'T--

AUNTIE: that's when Will the Kitman walks into the shed

AUNTIE: right before they rage bone

GUS: yes perfect

GUS: poor will

GUS: Ted stomps off home and Trent doesn't follow him because it's like, his kid's school booster car wash or whatever

GUS: but he comes over LATER

GUS: STILL DAMP

AUNTIE: STILL DAMP

AUNTIE: i love it. you're terrible and i love it.

GUS: and Ted is like, fuming

GUS: Ted's all about to read him the riot act when Trent steps into the apartment and lays one on him

GUS: and is like "you only had to ask, you know" and then they bone

AUNTIE: national book award levels right here

GUS: the sex scene is all just Ted slowly taking Trent's clothes off and like, reciting all the times he's seen Trent's wrist bone or his shoulder or whatnot

GUS: while Trent is just losing his mind

AUNTIE: omg stop this is so MEAN

AUNTIE: recites some horrible poetry at him

AUNTIE: about his ankles on a summer day

GUS: like reverently kissing Trent's shin because a few months ago Trent and his daughter did one of those Knobby Knees competitions for the Richmond fair

AUNTIE: Ted kisses his inner elbow and Trent nearly blows his load

AUNTIE: Ted's being romantic yes, but also totally getting him back for torturing him for months

GUS: oh Trent totally goes off way too early

GUS: like Ted hasn't even *gotten* to his cock yet

GUS: but Trent's not remotely embarrassed, he just laughs and smiles up at Ted the way he's been doing for the past year (yeah this is gonna get drawn out a YEAR)

GUS: and is like "you're dying to say something like 'that was a long time coming' aren't you?"

GUS: and Ted blurts out "I love you"

AUNTIE: OMG

AUNTIE: Ted

AUNTIE: he would!

GUS: HE ABSOLUTELY WOULD

GUS: Ted doesn't have his heart on his sleeve

GUS: he has his heart on like, a sandwich board

AUNTIE: "i love everything about you. your boney ankles... your knobby knees." Ted! I'm so embarrassed for you, brah

GUS: It's horrible I love it

AUNTIE: the sap and the slut

AUNTIE: together at last

GUS: anyway this ends with Ted waking up early to make breakfast wearing his undershirt and a pair of boxers

GUS: and Trent wandering out into the kitchen and walking into the kitchen table staring at Ted's ass

GUS: THE END

GUS: give me a Pulitzer

AUNTIE: TAKE MY MONEY!

GUS:

So it was only right that Ted walked Trent back to his car and held the various and sundries that Trent pulled out of his pockets, wiping them off with the one dry part of his jacket sleeve before handing them over. "Please, Ted, *stop* apologizing," he said as they rounded the corner to the parking lot across from the clubhouse. "I expected far worse, truth be told."

"You expected worse than getting tripled dunked and threatened by my coworker?" Ted asked, a little bit scandalized. He sure as heck hadn't been expecting it, or anything like it. "I know I called you a tough cookie, but I doubt that softened you up any."

Trent handed his glasses over, his brow furrowed. "I'm not sure I follow, but that's hardly unusual. At any rate, yes, I did, for good reason. And as I mentioned, I've also *experienced* far worse."

"Yeah, you'll have to tell me about that incident with you and Roy Keane sometime," Ted agreed as they rocked up on Trent's ride. Trent retrieved his keys from the small pile in Ted's arms — and that wasn't even counting everything Ted had in his pockets before they'd gotten overloaded. "How do you carry all this stuff around without a backpack or a satchel or a little rolly suitcase, anyhow?" he asked. "You've got three books, three *notebooks,* two different types of headphones, a wallet that honestly probably needs a little spring cleaning—"

"It's August," Trent said, smiling as he unlocked his car. He took the stuff in Ted's hands and dumped it on the passenger side seat, then waited patiently as Ted patted at his various pockets to surrender the rest of Trent's belongings. "Thank you for your help — and for agreeing to this interview and the whole idea. I'll let you know if the publisher goes for it."

"He'd better," Ted warned. "It's gonna be a heck of a book. Although I would've sat down for a chinwag with you either way — hasn't been the same in the press room without you this season. Nobody's even taken over your chair — we've been thinking of cordoning it off or something."

"Entirely unnecessary," said Trent, still smiling. "But a touching gesture all the same. Now I'll toddle off home and try to sober up my clothing."

"Strong coffee and crackers always works for me," Ted offered, and Trent laughed again as he got in the car. There'd been a lot of laughter during their conversation, but Ted still got a kick out of hearing it. Trent Crimm, Independent was proving just as charming as his forbearer ever was.

AUNTIE: These dorks are so in love

AUNTIE: i hate them so much

GUS: I know

GUS: it's great

AUNTIE: it's perfect. i'm furious.

GUS: hahaha

GUS: look who's talking

[y0itsbri]

tagged by some lovely folks, @creepkinginc @mishervellous @grumpymickmilk @shameless-notashamed @you-are-so-much-better-than-that @arrowflier @milkovetti aaaaand @mrsinistertype , for @celestialmickey 's tag game tuesday on a thursday

name, age, pronouns: bri, 20s, any pronouns. 'she' in the way that drag queens refer to each other. 'they' in the way that you see the mailman across the street. 'he' in the way that whatever eddie munson has going on.

if you could live anywhere, where would you live? with my girlfriendddd. the dream someday is to have a bit of land on a farm or in the woods. to grow some fuckin tomatoes. somewhere w a view.

something on your to-do list today: cleaaaaan up! also draw a bit. i have like 8 WIPs now bc i keep jumping around

describe your current outfit: it's a stay-at-home day soooo grey t shirt w a hole that a mouse chewed through, mom's old black jacket, pajama pants w llamas and hearts

what's the last song you added to your playlist(s)? added 'the one' by jlo to my main playlist and 'darlin'' by she & him to my love songs playlist

favourite holiday: HALLOWEEN. i properly lost my shit in the halloween aisle of the store and i got some funky skull rings and a necklace that's like skeleton arms around ur neck. also saw a 10 foot tall skeleton and screamed (w joy)

something you’d find in your bag/purse/backpack: tums

something you’d find in your bedroom: my guitars

you’re giving a Ted Talk, what’s it about? how to properly care for hermit crabs

what’s something you’d still like to do this year? apply for more jobs. a bitch is in their 'in-between' era.

tagging @longjohnsoff only if u wanna

[bbugyu]

dino has been running thru my mind like nothing else I’m constantly dreaming abt my silly little dinosaur so I’d like to know ur thoughts on what dino’s like when he has a silly little (ie HUGE) crush, whether he’d fall easily/at first sight etc etc !!!! thank yew kisses

oh my GODDDD okay so here's the thing with lee chan. he is so confident KJDHFKSDHFJDS even when he's nervous he can put on a brave face so he would definitely act super cool around you, treat you nicely but normal, and then as soon as you leave he like COLLAPSES onto seungkwan (probably) and GUSHES about how much he likes you. like kwan would be like *sips americano* daaaaaaamn ur down baaaaaad

like okay. i'm gonna be frank. you would have no idea he likes you. you would just assume he's being nice and friendly because like ?? he gives you no reason to think any other way ??? i actually have a wip that is literally a uni au where mc is down bad for dino and he is down bad right back but neither of them have any idea for an entire SEMESTER like this is exactly how any crush situation would play out with dino because he genuinely has no idea how to flirt JKDFHSDKJFHKJD like he does?? but he doesn't know how to tell if you like him back so he's too scared to be too forward because he wouldn't want to lose you as a friend 🥺🥺🥺 and even if you had an inkling of a crush on him you would be like "ah well he would have given me signs by now" it would literally take seungkwan sitting you down (dino's in the bathroom probably) and being like "please tell me you like him i am getting so fucking sick of this dude rambling about the way you did your hair for an hour and a half every time you leave"

and ur like 😯 bc ???? you thought you had no chance???? and kwan's like "he literally gave you his jacket and brought you coffee and paid for your dinner" but ur like ???? "isn't he like that with everyone???"

seungkwan stares at you and is like "ur joking. ur fucking joking."

"he bought you coffee, too!!!"

"YEAH BC HE KNEW I WAS WITH YOU AND HE DIDN'T WANT TO GET THE SHIT BEATEN OUT OF HIM"

but as soon as he knows you like him??? dude he is SHAMELESS. like when seungkwan spills that you see him that way he is blatantly flirting with you in ways that make you want to hide your face because WHAT THE HELL. he'll like wink at you whenever and call you his baby. like he hasn't even asked you out yet but when you say you're going home and he's like "and i'm not invited? 🥺"

and god when he finally locks you down. he is fucking COOING and FAWNING over you he's like "look how lucky i am 🥰🥰🥰" and you just have to hide your face in the sweatshirt HE GAVE YOU because jesus christ he doesn't know how to turn off the annoying. but be honest. you love it. you are down just as bad as he is, he just doesnt know how to shut up about it LJDFSJKFHJ

[jaywhere]

wip, ~3.5k, follow-up to the lil pwp i posted last week, enjoy

—

The doorframe rattles when Logan slams it shut.

With a sigh, he shrugs off his jacket. He makes a half-hearted attempt at hanging it on one of the hooks off to the right before giving up and allowing it to slump onto the floor. His feet drag, toes catching clumsily against the transitional swell between his living room’s wood paneling and the kitchenette’s linoleum.

The world is already tolerably fuzzy as he slams open the cabinet door. Logan closes his eyes against the sound of one of his neighbors showering and crickets chirping in the distance. He pulls out a half-empty bottle of whiskey, pops out the cork, and tilts his head back to take a few slow glugs. The alcohol slides down his throat, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The thunk of glass against the lacquered countertop echoes.

Today had not been a good day. The last few days hadn’t been good, really — although Logan’s not sure he’s ever had a good day. But the last few had been worse than usual. The kind of days that suck you dry, leave you nothing but a husk of a man at the end of ‘em. Logan glancces down at the bottle in his hand, wondering if he should down the whole thing now.

He squints. It looks significantly more full than he remembers.

It isn’t until the bathroom door swings open to release a cavalcade of barefoot footfalls and a cloud of hot steam, that Logan realizes it hadn’t been one of his neighbors showering.

“Logan Wolverine,” Wade Wilson announces, leveling an accusatory loofah brush towards him, “it’s time to resume our eternal battle.”

Drunk, Logan stares. The cloud of steam clears to reveal an expanse of marred skin interrupted only by the bright red kevlar of the Deadpool mask. A long beat passes wherein Logan stares directly at Wade’s bare cock dangling goofily between his legs before he jerks his head to the side.

“God damn, man, put some clothes on!” Logan turns, back to Wade. “And what the fuck are you doing here?”

“Not like it’s anything you haven’t seen before, lover.” The only warning Logan gets before a hot, wet body is pressed against his back is the damp slap of wet feet on linoleum. By reflex, he turns and shoves three ragged claws directly into Wade’s stomach. “Oh, should’ve expected that. Gonna take a second to get over that one.”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Logan stares down at him, spread-eagled in the kitchenette with thin streams of blood puddling on the floor. “You are wet and naked. Get the fuck out of my house.”

“Well,” Wade responds. Completely shameless, he doesn’t even make an attempt to cover himself. Logan grinds his teeth and turns his back once again. “Considering that you just stabbed me. No! And besides, I have a job for you. Since you’re obviously done with your last one.”

Logan tips back the bottle of whiskey into his mouth. A few drops escape from the corner of his lips, which he doesn’t bother to wipe away. “What?”

“It’s something silly. A B-plot. Hijinks, if you will. The type suitable for some sort of one-shot. Maybe a two-shot if we get frisky.”

“I don’t have any idea what you’re talking about.” Logan stares out the window above the sink. The foggy, smudged surface prevents him from seeing much other than the glaring approach of oncoming cars down the highway.

“I’m talking about an adventure! Work for the good of the universe! The two amigos at it again to save the world — or at least a very specific suburb of Milwaukee — “

“Yeah, I don’t actually do that anymore.” He takes another swig. Bottle’s halfway empty.

“Okay. Well, if I am being honest, I did accept a payment for this one. About a milli, but if you play nice, I would be willing to split it between the two of us.”

Another drink. A car roars down the highway, lights blazing. A fly buzzes above, imprisoned against the glare of the LEDs.

“No.”

“Okay, fine.” Wade’s exasperated tone shatters the melancholy mood. Logan wishes he would give up and leave already. Wishful thinking, he supposes. Not even educated. “It was two milli.”

“No.”

Logan slides the whiskey back into the cabinet. Wade mutters something he doesn’t bother to listen to. Rather, Logan steps over Wade’s naked, wet, healing body, opens the fridge, and pulls out a mostly-intact six pack. With a sigh, he walks into the living room, collapses onto the couch, and turns of the TV.

“Fine!” Wade shouts from the floor of the kitchenette. “It was five milli, but if you’re actually going to take half of that, I expect a blowjob for my finder’s fee, mister!”

Logan doesn’t respond. Nothing good on at 3 AM. He should be asleep. No way he’s going to do so with Wade Wilson loose in his place. He’s too tired, drunk, and miserable to do anything meaningful about him right now. He pops open one of the beers. On screen, a lion eviscerates a zebra while the narrator drones calmly on.

Damp footfalls on carpet. Wade stands just inside of Logan’s line of sight. He isn’t bleeding any more. “Oh no, I’m bleeding all over your carpet! Whatever are you going to do!”

Logan ignores him. The lion is rooting through the zebra’s guts now.

“Come on, I know you can’t be that busy. You’ve been gone for four whole days.”

Logan’s brow furrows. His head snaps in Wade’s direction. “You’ve been in my house for four days.”

“This, Logan, is an apartment. And yeah, where do you think all those dirty dishes came from?” Wade gestures vaguely towards the kitchen. Logan hadn’t even noticed. “Also, you probably want to change your sheets. And don’t look in your second dresser drawer, please, unless you’re like, way more into me than I think.”

“Okay.” Logan sets down his beer, looking Wade dead in the eye. Very intentionally, he does not glance down to where Wade’s cock is still flopping pathetically about between his legs. “I’m being serious. I need you to get out now.”

“Ooh, it’s serious time, alright.” He bends his knees, turns to the side, and arches his back so his ass sticks out. “And what happens if I don’t?”

Logan stands up. He can’t fucking deal with this right now. He grabs his coat, stumbling over to the door. He squints against a blast of cold air.

“Come on, Logan.” Wade attempts to dramatically slam the door shut. Logan rips it right back open and steps outside. “I can’t be so repugnant you don’t want to work with me even just a tiny little bit — “

“No, you are,” Logan says, just before slamming the door in Wade’s face.

There are a few blessed moments of silence as Logan walks up the half-set of stairs leading to the parking lot. His shoulders tense when he hears his door creak open again.

“Even though I’m offering you two and a half million? This place is dingy as fuck, the X-men cannot be paying you that much.”

The door slams closed behind Wade. Logan keeps his gaze fixed ahead. He doesn’t speak until he senses Wade right behind him. “Pretty sure the X-Men don’t get paid, bub.”

“What the fuck, good ol’ Chuck — who is definitely alive by the way, don’t you even worry your sweet little heads about it — doesn’t even pay you.” Logan keeps walking forward, desperately hoping that the crunch of gravel beneath his boots will eventually drown Wade out. “That’s inhumane. Even the Avengers get paid. What the hell else is he doing with that seemingly infinite pool of money? Also, what do you mean you’re pretty sure? You are working with the X-Men, aren’t you.”

Logan takes a deep breath. Without a word, he continues walking forward.

Wade gasps. They cross into the street now, beginning to walk down the empty road. Logan’s car isn’t even here. He'd left it at the bar.

“Oh my god, you’re not. What the hell have you been doing for the last year then, man?”

“Didn’t I very specifically say that we would not be seeing each other around?”

“Yes, but then you waddled that cute little ass directly into my apartment, and held my dog, and made friends with my friends and your not-daughter, all strongly implying to the audience that we were going to live happily ever after in homoerotic bliss!” 

The sound of skin smacking against skin echoes from behind Logan. Perhaps Wade smacking himself in the face. “I thought you were the reason they rejected me again, good ‘ol Logan wants nothing to do with Wade anymore for completely inscrutable reasons, but — “

Logan’s brow furrows. “They rejected you — ?”

The sentence dies a swift death to a cocktail of rage and embarrassment as he turns and realizes that Wade is still buck naked.

“ — sunuvabitch, put some damn clothes on!”

The emotionless white pits of the Deadpool mask stare back at Logan. “I will if you come back to your sad wolf boy apartment with me.”

Logan scowls. “No.”

Wade crosses his arms and waggles his hips. “I’m the one wearing the mask here. I have nothing to lose. You live here. And you have neighbors you care about. Apparently.” 

Logan turns his head, gritting his teeth against the feeling of complete mortification. With a grunt, he clips Wade’s shoulder as he passes him on the way back to his apartment.

“There’s my peanut, always happy to see me!”

Logan throws his jacket onto the floor as soon as he re-enters his apartment. Wilson is such a fucking nut-case.

— 

“Are you sure you don’t want to get down nasty style? If it’s just about the carpet, we can lay down a tarp or something. Or we can do it in the bathroom. Always keeps the ugly bumping tidy no matter the bodily fluids involved — I highly recommend it.”

Exhausted, Logan blinks very slowly as he stares at the TV. He sucks down another half a beer before responding. “Don’t you have a girl?”

“If by a girl,” Wade calls out from the bedroom, “you mean my fabulous new therapist Lisa, then yes. She is so dumb. Knows nothing about the horrific depths of the human spirit. Never been tortured, Logan, can you believe that? Not even once. She’s incredible. She has me using this new morality app — “

Logan shakes his head, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean a girlfriend, wife situation.”

“Not anymore!”

Wade arrives in Logan’s field of vision wearing a pair of jeans which come to an abrupt end at his mid-shin. A white t-shirt is tucked into Wade’s belt, dangling pouches failing to disguise how comically large the waistband is on him. Strips of discolored skin are visible on his arms and legs. He’s still wearing the mask. He makes jazz hands.

“You look stupid.”

“You, too!” Wade points an accusatory finger at Logan. “Oh, who am I kidding? You pull it off. Why was I cursed with this glorious, mutilated twink body?”

With a huff, Wade collapses onto the couch. He places a hand on Logan’s thigh, which Logan quickly removes.

“Sorry about your girl.” Wade’s hand continues to sit placidly on the couch. Logan takes another swig of his beer.

“It’s fine.”

On screen, a family of gerbils scurry out of their burrow in the middle of a flood. The narrator dully reports that, in these conditions, the little beasts make easy prey for opportunistic predators.

“Actually, it’s not fine. You know, the really fucked-up thing is that — according to her, at least — it wasn’t the loser-era stuff, or the putting her in constant danger, or the severe mental health problems. Sometimes, things just don’t work out.” Wade turns away from Logan and stares into the middle distance. “And that, dear, readers, is a weak plotline, but it’s also real life. We all know you just want to see his one-eyed snake disappear into my wet cave and you’ll take any excuse you can get. Fuck!”

Wade throws his head onto the back of the couch.

“It may also just have been the severe mental health problems,” he admits. “She was really nice. Probably wouldn’t have said that if it were true.”

Logan drink again. One of the gerbils gets snapped up by a hawk in slow motion. “She would have,” he says. “She would’ve just said it nice.”

Wade sighs. “Yeah.”

Wordlessly, Logan hands him a beer.

“You know, I’m not supposed to drink on my medication. But this is probably enough of a special occasion.” Logan’s not sure whether it’s a joke. He’d never known Wade — any iteration — to be particularly stable. In fairness, Logan has never been either.

When Wade takes the bottle, Logan pops the top off with one partially extended claw. Wade scoffs and takes a sad, quiet drink. Out of juice. Silence encroaches.

“So,” Logan starts. “You’re back on your merc shit, huh?”

“Kinda.” Wade slouches into the crevices of the couch. For a moment, he looks pathetically small. “I’m trying to incorporate my burgeoning moral compass into my work now. Man’s gotta eat.”

“Five million dollars ain’t grocery money.”

When Wade sits up, it’s like a switch flips on in his brain. “In this economy? You’d be lucky to get a loaf of bread for 50K!”

Logan ignores him. He finishes off his beer, then sets the empty bottle on the coffee table.

“So does this mean you’re gonna help me? Or fuck me? I was hoping for both but at this point I’d take either.” He leans closer, staring out at Logan from behind his mask.

Logan sighs. “I said I’m not doing that shit.”

“Logan.” Wade’s voice is deadly serious. “My bowels are clear. But if you’re really that worried about it, I can give myself an enema first.”

Logan reaches over and takes the beer back. Wade doesn’t flinch.

“Hey, come on. You literally save the multiverse, heroically switch timelines, sidestep the life-ruining consequences of your actions. You get to live in a world where you’re a hero, and not one where all of your friends are dead. That is literally once-in-thousands-of-lifetimes kind of luck. And you’re gonna use that ridiculous stroke of luck to sit on the couch all day?”

Shouldn’t be surprising. Logan was already familiar with Wade’s personal definition of heroism. With jaw tight, Logan keeps his gaze fixed forward. His grip tightens around Wade’s beer. Fingers twitching, he downs a third of it.

“I’m honestly shocked the TVA didn’t make you go home off-screen, just for continuity’s sake. I guess they want you to be in more — “

“In case you didn’t catch that,” Logan says, glaring at Wade out of the corner of his eye, “that was an invitation to leave.”

“But you did give me the beer. Invitation extended. And I bet if I ignore your grumpy mug and stay a little bit longer, I can get you to do it again!”

Logan doesn’t respond. He’s lost track of how much he’s had to drink. The whiskey from before is just now starting to hit him, thoughts growing sluggish, warmth crawling through his limbs. He downs the rest of Wade’s beer and cracks open another.

“For real, man.” Wade leans closer, squinting. “Why are you not chilling with the X-Men. They’re all alive here. Or, like, mostly. Probably.” His head turns, glancing around the room chaotically. “Those timelines were always really hard to follow. And our whole thing just didn’t make any sense at all, so it’s probably way easier to just show up and find out who’s alive, but like, it’s definitely most of them. I saw Kurt last week. Blue. Tail. All that fun stuff. You two are supposed to be buds.”

A black hole opens up in the pit of Logan’s stomach.

“You like reality TV, right? That seems like your kind of trash.” Logan flips through the channels. The warmth that radiates off of Wade as he leans in closer is probably Logan’s imagination.

“Logan.” Wade whispers. “Answer the question.”

Teeth grit, Logan hisses, “Or else what?”

“Or else.” Logan rolls his eyes when he feels the cool barrel of a gun press against his temple. He continues flipping through the channels. “We will have to continue our eternal — oh, Love Island, I love this shit.” Logan resists the urge to roll his eyes. “You know, the US version is so bland in comparison to the UK one — wait a second, you’re trying to distract me!”

With a sigh, Logan leans his head back on the couch. His thoughts are becoming delightfully fuzzy, now. He plays the game. “You ever get that ADHD testing done?”

Wade narrows his eyes. “No.”

If Wade had come here to commiserate — to play games — Logan can be fine with that. A few hours ago he’d lifted his cheek off of the bar with red in his mind’s eye. Her hair, her fire, her blood. The last few months had been lonely.

An unnatural silence fills the room when Logan closes his eyes. Wade moves, silent and fast. Thighs bracketing Logan’s, erratically-textured palms cradling his cheeks. Chest tight like he’d been strangled. Logan’s knuckles are pressed to Wade’s ribs, all reflex.

“Get off me.” The vision of his blades slicing through Wade’s soft stomach is clear in his mind’s eye.

“Logan.” Wade’s fingers on his cheek are patronizing. “My bro. My good boy. My homie. My personal hero. That would ruin your couch.”

Wade’s body going slack in Logan’s arms. Manic twinkles of laughter in his ear. Spilled blood sucked up by denim and upholstery. Logan grits his teeth. Silence ticks on.

“Which you care about, because you’re broke, because you’re not fucking around with Chuck — who definitely pays people, by the way.” Wade’s voice is loud and annoying. “So come help me, Obi Wan. You’re my only hope.”

The sharp snikt of Logan’s claws slicing through his own skin occurs not half a second after Wade rolls off of him.

“For the last fucking time,” Logan growls. He can feel his own throat rumble, his self-control slipping as the alcohol suffuses his cells. “No.”

Wade crouches in the middle of Logan’s living room, ready to pounce. The upturned corners of his lips are visible even beneath the mask. “It’s not even a hit job. More of a rescue, really. And it’s delightfully silly. And afterwards we can do a little horizontal — “

Logan scowls. “Stop.”

His muscles are heavy, drawing him further back into the couch. He shouldn’t have had so much to drink. Wilson is a clown, but he’s not incompetent. Logan’s heart races against an impending sense of danger.

All at once, Wade collapses onto his ass. He pulls out his phone, gaze fixed on the screen. Logan couldn’t relax if he wanted to.

“Okay, I hear that you’re setting a boundary. Lisa’s been telling me a lot about those. So I’m willing to stop talking about sex. If you come with me.”

“And yet you apparently didn’t hear me when I told you to leave.”

Logan leans forward. Moonlight stretches down the length of his claws in reflection.

“Come on, Logan, we all know you weren’t being serious then.” Wade flaps his wrist dismissively. He’d probably still be cracking jokes if Logan were to snap it. “Which is definitely how it works. And you can’t say otherwise because you don’t even go to therapy.”

Logan says nothing. Wade stares at him, as if waiting for a response.

“If you did, your therapist would definitely tell you that you should come with me. And also that you should probably go hit up your good ol’ bubs the — “

“No.”

Logan stands. His patience is running out. He’s wobbly, unsteady. Wade’s fast. A bloodthirsty cacophony clamors in the back of his mind. Two kicks would leave Wade’s brains splattered across a broken television screen, a left hook could snap his neck on the edge of the coffee table, triplet blades rending flesh from his heart down to his gut leaving him flopping like a fish out of water on the carpet — 

“Fine.” Wade sighs. He stares down at his phone. Logan itches for violence. “I didn’t want to resort to this, but you leave me no choice.”

The sound of dice rolling fills the apartment. Wade gasps, turning his phone screen to display a mischievous-looking emoji with an angel halo. A beat passes with Logan’s head tilted in utter confusion.

“Chaotic heroic. I love this one. Always so weird.”

Swiftly, he pops open the velcro of one of his pouches. Logan’s eyes go wide as he pulls out a grenade.

“Wade,” Logan says. His voice is tense, pulse thundering in his ears. Wade’s attitude had felt strange — stranger — but he hadn’t anticipated this. “Put that down. This is an apartment building. There are innocent people here.”

With a giggle, Wade stands. He loops one finger through the pull ring, swinging it casually around his finger. “Oh, I know.”

Logan lunges at him. Wade sidesteps easily, laughing as Logan sprawls inelegantly across the floor. His limbs are heavy, the air baring down on him as he pushes himself up.

“I don’t know what kinda psycho fuckin’ meltdown you’re having because your girl dumped you, Wilson, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you — “

A hand held over his heart. “Wow. Last-named. The hurt. How would you feel if I called you — wait, what is your last name?”

“I’m not gonna let you kill a bunch of people for no goddamn reason.”

A swipe, dodged. Wade’s pressed flat against his front door. Logan throws his fist, embedding his claws in the wood instead of Wade’s skull. He screams as he yanks them out.

“Wow, Logan. It’s only been six months and you’ve gotten so slow! Or is it the alcohol?”

One last shot. Logan goes for his gut, but Wade’s too fast. He’s across the room before Logan’s halfway through the swing.

There’s no fanfare when he decided to stop playing games.

“Relax,” he calls from across the room. Logan watches in horror as he pulls the pin, tossing the grenade live across the living room. “This’ll only take a second.”