#well that was another one that came out of NOWHERE

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FOUR

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: after facing an intense altercation, it leads you to another one of sae-byeok’s interrogation.

wc. 1.8k

warnings: homophobia, acts of violence, smoking, angst

(nowhere girl masterlist)

The sun was right above your head, scorching it. The brightness of the sun blinds your vision as you make your way to the dining hall. Although everyone around you couldn’t stop talking about how hot the weather is today, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about your brief encounter with Sae-byeok two nights ago.

You kept replaying your time with her at the convenience store. It was an uneventful experience funnily enough; you two sat down in front of the store window quietly eating your food. It seems like there is nothing to analyze about this exchange, but to you, you liked it because of the sheer tranquility. No talking which meant no bickering, you both just sat down sharing the serenity that comes with midnight. You haven’t felt that much peace this past month. A part of you hopes to get that feeling again soon.

Just as you turn a corner into the alleyway you feel yourself bump into a person twice your size.

“Sorry.” you quickly apologize to whoever you collided into and try to usher around them only for them to block you with their body. Eyebrows furrowed, you peer up to see who’s preventing you from walking away.

The guy who is blocking you is tall and buff, freshly buzzed cut, tattoos littering around both his forearms and a cigarette between his teeth.

“You’re Yoon’s friend, right?” he asks, his voice exuding mockery. Two of his friends appear behind him like a couple of bodyguards. You scowl but your mouth refuses to open to talk.

“Yoon told me she let you sleep over at her dorm because—I don’t know you got kicked out of the house or something? Do you mind telling me and my friends why that is, hm?”

“You know the answer to that. Don’t mock me.” you whisper, voice trembling. Your little act of bravery isn’t working.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking pervert.” he sneers. “You came up with that bullshit excuse of getting thrown out by your parent’s house so you can watch Yoon and her roommates change.”

“What?” you gape.

“That’s the problem with people like you…Well, I can’t in good conscience let you go around harassing women for your sick pleasure. Can’t I?” he looks at his friends who grunt in approval.

“Fuck you I never did any of that shit!”

You try walking backwards to escape the situation only to have the guy grip on your arm and squeezing it tightly. The grip he had on you was so tight you were beginning to feel afraid that he might actually rip your arm off of your body. Tears brim from the corner of your eyes and you begin to cry out for help.

“Stop acting so innocent now. You know what you did—and we are the only ones who can fight this injustice your inflicting upon people.”

“Let me go!” you cry, basically plead. “I never did anything you said. P—Please.”

Everything around you suddenly turned white and when you got your field of vision back to normal suddenly you were on the floor. Realization quickly crept up—you just got punched by the main guy, hard. As his friends roar with laughter, he uses one hand to pull you back up by your collar.

“I don’t like liars.” he tuts and with his free hand he grabs the cigarette between his teeth. “I don’t have anywhere to light off this cigarette.”

“Really?” one of his friends speak up, faking an act of innocence. “You got something right here.” he points at you.

They all begin to laugh again while you’re still squirming and hyperventilating. Your vision becomes blurry as you whip your head around hoping that a bystander notices you are in danger and come to rescue you but you see no one. The only thing you can do is think quickly or this situation will turn out even uglier.

You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the three guys, past their shoulders. “Officer right over here!” you shout to no one in the distance.

The guys all whip their heads behind them in fright, thinking they just got caught. That’s when you use your free hand to snatch the cigarette from the main guy and press the burning end of the cigarette on the hand that’s gripping yours. Instead of letting go though, the guy yelps and trips on air causing you both to collapse. You quickly spit in his face, making him flinch back and shout curses at you. He was cursing so loudly that his own spit struck your face.

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. As you crawl away from him, you grab the pack of cigarettes that fell from his pockets then absolutely book it.

Run, run, run is all your mind is thinking. Run, run, run and don’t look back for a second.

✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok thought it was nice of her to spend her only free time to walk to the convenience store with you the other night. After that quiet excursion, she expected you to start coming back to the apartment at a reasonable time.

But no one, not Sae-byeok, not Cheol, or even Ji-yeong has seen nor heard from you today.

Before Ji-yeong pointed fingers at Sae-byeok again she hurriedly explained that she actually settled things down with you, which was a half-lie half-truth situation. Of course, she didn’t buy it. In order to prove herself, Sae-byeok joined Ji-yeong who sat outside the apartment to wait for you. But it was almost one in the morning and Ji-yeong had work in the morning so she dialed your phone one last time, if you didn’t answer she’d go back to the apartment and report you as missing the next night. However, Sae-byeok decided to wait a little longer seeing as she doesn’t have to do anything but drop off Cheol at school tomorrow.

Thirty minutes later, Sae-byeok watches a shadowy figure walk in the direction of the apartment building. She holds her breath, anticipating it was you. When the person got closer she saw the familiar portfolio tote and laptop, that’s when she knew.

Sae-byeok’s face morphs into confusion when notices how you were stumbling, like it was hard for you to walk.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You just kept trudging until you made it to the staircases where you inevitably sat down. Slowly, Sae-byeok makes her way towards you. Something was off she could sense it.

“Yeah.” you say barley above whisper. But she isn’t buying it. She sits beside you, trying to look at your face but you look the other way before she can notice something. “What’re you doing?”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No, it’s just—hey!”

Sae-byeok pushes strands of hair back and caught the purple shiner imprinted on your cheek. You gasp and clumsily cover yourself again.

“Shit.” she says breathily. “What happened?”

You hug your chest and stare down at your knees in shame. Sae-byeok of all people shouldn’t have seen you like this. Now there’s no way around this.

“Some guys from my school cornered me in the alleyway.” you reply weakly.

“Why?”

“Long story.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t pry any further. You didn’t tell her some bullshit excuse like slipping and hitting a table. You actually sounded…truthful?

Besides, she can sense you’re still in pain and talking about the reason why you’re in pain isn’t going to help you. So, she rises to sprint back to the apartment. You wonder if she’ll come back with Ji-yeong so they can get an answer out of you. Instead, she comes back with an ice pack, two pain killers pills, and a bottle of water and quietly passes it off to you.

“Thanks.” you mumble and swallow the pain killers while pressing the ice pack on your cheek, wincing. You both sit in silence like this for a minute, that’s when you start to feel your chest grow heavy. “…Is the bruise that bad?”

Your vulnerability and pleading made Sae-byeok’s heart sink. She won’t admit it—but something about how fragile you sounded reminded her of a younger Sae-byeok, back when she first came to South Korea.

“Yeah.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t approve of your attire. Only because even though it’s spring time, the night breeze is still cool enough to make someone shiver. You were currently wearing a green frilly skirt that sat above your knees paired with an oversized graphic shirt. The scrape on your knee was still dry with blood, you kept looking at it and tried pulling your skirt to cover it, it was obvious you weren’t comfortable.

“Where are you going?” Sae-byeok asks when you got back up and started walking away.

“I don’t wish to bother you so I’ll just be at the twenty four hour cafe that’s a few blocks away.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t get you. She feels like she’s about to go mad.

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Sae-byeok asks. You pause walking and spin on your heels to look at her. “Could you quit being reckless?”

You don’t understand her. Sae-byeok isn’t obligated to look after you. You actually feel quite bad for making her stay up this late.

“I’m not—I don’t think I am.” you murmur and lower the ice pack cooling your bruised cheek.

“You are.” she says bluntly. “You’ve been acting suspicious from the start, you keep running away and now all of a sudden you came with bruises and now that I’ve seen them you try to run away again?”

That’s the most you heard her speak. You don’t know if you should feel honored or embarrassed.

Sae-byeok stands up, her guards are up you just know it. Her posture straightens and her dark sharp eyes bore right into your skull like she’s trying to get into your head. Your breath hitches so you take a few steps backwards.

“I’m trying not to disturb you more than I already have these past few days. I feel like I’m breaking everything I touch so...” you trail off. Sae-byeok remains immovable.

Apart from the suspicious bruising littering your body, it hits Sae-byeok that she has nothing on you. She can’t risk living dangerously anymore now that she has Cheol under her care, but could you really threaten their way of living?

“You’re limping.”

“I should be fine these are my comfiest sneakers.” you say. “I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”

Sae-byeok rolls her eyes. “I have to come with you now.” she says like it is the most obvious option. “Or Ji-yeong will blame me again.”

You have a feeling that she’s hard headed when it comes to decision making. So silently, you let her trail behind you as you make your ways towards the cafe in the brisk of midnight.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6

[wadewnstonwilson]

deadpool & wolverine reimagine;

(part two: bye bye bye)

trigger warnings: like, literally all the violence, i don't really know how else to say that. corpse mutilation, nsync slander.

word count: 2.3k

part one

“Well, well, well! Look who came crawling back for chapter two! I knew you couldn’t stay away. It’s okay, you don’t have to say it—I’m irresistible, like tacos on a cheat day or Hugh Jackman’s abs in literally any movie. But enough about me… no, wait. Let’s talk about me some more.”

Wade's lying on his side, facing the Adamantium skeleton of James Logan Howlett, gesturing wildly as he starts his recap.

“So, where were we? Oh, right. Yours truly was out in the middle of Butt-Fuck North Dakota, digging up ol’ Logan’s skeleton for reasons that are definitely noble and not at all related to my self-destructive tendencies. Things were going great—I was making jokes, desecrating graves, really having a moment—when, BAM! Out of nowhere, the TVA shows up like it’s open mic night, and I’m the only comic left on stage.”

He leans forward, wagging a finger as if he’s lecturing you.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking: ‘Wade, what’s a bunch of Minutemen doing messing with a lovable scamp like you?’ And to that, I say: jealousy. They’re jealous of my stunning good looks, my sparkling personality, and—let’s be honest—my rock-hard glutes. Anyway, they were all like, ‘Ooooh, scary timesticks,’ and I was like, ‘Hard pass,’ and here we are.”

He claps his hands together and grins under the mask. “But lucky for you, the good shit starts now. Action, drama, possibly a musical number if the budget allows. You showed up for the chimichangas, but you’re staying for the chaos.”

Before he can launch into another tangent, a booming voice cuts through the air.

“Wade Winston Wilson!” an unmasked Minuteman yells from across the way, his voice dripping with authority and irritation. “You are under arrest by the Time Variance Authority for too many crimes to list. Come out and we’ll give you the courtesy of taking you in one piece!”

Deadpool freezes mid-gesture, his head slowly turning toward the source of the voice. He blinks a few times, then points to himself incredulously.

“Wade Winston Wilson?” he repeats, his tone mockingly formal. “Oh no, they used my full name. That’s like, Mom-level serious. What’s next? They ground me? Take away my swords? Cancel my Disney+ subscription?”

He turns back to the reader, his voice dropping to a whisper. “They can’t cancel my subscription, right? I mean, Hawkeye is my everything.”

The unmasked Minuteman stood tall and imposing, his voice cutting through the tense air like a blade.

“Last chance: throw out your weapons and come out peacefully.”

Deadpool peeked over the log, his red-and-black mask tilting slightly as if weighing his options. Then, with a shrug, he yelled back, his voice tinged with mock innocence.

“I’m not gonna give you my weapons.” He paused for dramatic effect, tapping his chin as though pondering a moral quandary. “But I promise not to use them. Cross my heart, hope to—ah, who am I kidding? I always hope to die.”

Satisfied with his retort, Deadpool turned back toward the skeleton, his masked face somehow exuding a mischievous grin. He squatted down next to Logan’s skeletal remains, gesturing to his fallen comrade as if introducing him to an old friend.

“You know, there are 206 bones in the human body,” he said conversationally, his tone taking on a sly edge. “207 if I’m watching Gossip Girl. XOXO.”

With a quick movement, he raised his hand and high-fived one of Logan’s skeletal hands, the brittle sound of bone against glove reverberating in the stillness.

“Alright, Peanut,” he whispered to the skeleton, his voice soft but brimming with determination. “Guess we’re getting that team-up after all. Maximum Effort.”

And then it happened. The mental switch that Wade Wilson flipped in moments of chaos. The world seemed to slow down for just a second, long enough for him to hear the music in his head—a carefully curated playlist of insanity. Was it a copping mechanism? Or just a way to blow off steam? The world may never know. This time, it was NSYNC's “Bye, Bye, Bye”. As the opening beats played in his mind, Deadpool’s body swayed slightly to the rhythm, his shoulders bouncing as if warming up for the carnage to come.

Deadpool launched himself from behind the dirt pile, a blur of red, black, and chaos. He gripped Logan’s skeletal neck in one hand, hoisting the remains like a grotesque trophy.

The Minutemen surged forward, their timesticks glowing ominously as they moved in formation, like a precision drill team. But Deadpool, wielding Logan’s skeleton like a deranged god of war, looked utterly unbothered. He landed in the clearing with a dramatic roll, one knee to the ground, Logan’s remains clutched tightly in his gloved hand.

For a brief moment, the battlefield seemed frozen in time. Then Deadpool stood, his posture commanding, his head cocked to one side. With a single jerk of his hand, he snapped off one of Wolverine’s adamantium rib bones. The metallic crack echoed through the air as Deadpool brandished the jagged rib like a dagger, its sharp edges gleaming menacingly in the dim light.

“Nothing personal,” he muttered, giving the rib a quick twirl.

In one hand, he held Logan’s rib bone, the jagged piece of adamantium glinting ominously as he hurled it with a force that seemed impossible. The rib bone whistled through the air and embedded itself in the neck of an oncoming Minuteman, the sharp crack of armor breaking and the gurgle of a stunned gasp echoing as the soldier collapsed.

But Deadpool was only getting started. He didn’t miss a beat—literally. He danced forward, his hips swaying and feet tapping to the rhythm only he could hear,

He bent down, grabbing Logan’s tibia—the long, solid bone still attached to rotting tendons. With a flick of his wrist, he slammed it into another Minuteman’s chest plate, the bone splintering through reinforced armor as if it were paper. The soldier crumpled to the ground, clutching at his shattered chest as Deadpool ripped the tibia free with a wet, sucking sound.

“Oh yeah, baby! Nothing beats the classics,” Wade quipped, spinning the tibia like a baseball bat before catching sight of two thigh bones still tethered to shin bones by decaying tendons. His masked face lit up with an almost childlike glee.

“Hello, beautiful!” he exclaimed, snatching the gruesome combo and giving it an experimental swing. The tendons held firm, creating the perfect makeshift nunchucks. “Oh, Logan, you shouldn’t have. Best gift ever!”

Deadpool twirled the bone nunchucks over his head with the speed and flair of a seasoned martial artist, channeling his inner Bruce Lee. The bones whirled around him in a blur, and as the first Minuteman charged, Deadpool swung the makeshift weapons with a resounding CRACK! The blow connected with the soldier’s helmet, sending it flying into the air.

Another Minuteman lunged, but Deadpool’s spinning bones caught him in the ribs, shattering his armor and sending him sprawling. He pivoted on his heel, the momentum of the nunchucks carrying into a full-circle sweep that took down three more soldiers, their forearms snapping like twigs under the relentless assault.

“Bone-crushing? Check. Skull-popping? Double check. This is officially the best day ever!”

Deadpool continued his rampage, swinging the thigh and shin bones with reckless abandon. He brought them down on a Minuteman’s shoulder, the blow so forceful that it drove the soldier to his knees. Without missing a beat, Deadpool wrapped the tendons around the man’s throat and pulled tight. The soldier clawed desperately at the grotesque noose, but Deadpool yanked harder, his voice cheerful as he said, “You know what they say—if you love someone, let them go. If you really love someone, pop their skull off!”

With a sickening SNAP, the Minuteman’s head detached from his body, flying off like a grotesque soccer ball and landing with a dull thud. Deadpool let out a triumphant laugh, spinning the now-headless Minuteman’s body before tossing it aside.

Noticing the remaining rib bones on Logan’s skeleton, Deadpool discarded the nunchucks with a flourish. “Don’t worry, Peanut, I’m not done with you yet.”

He ripped rib after rib from Logan’s skeletal frame, the sound of snapping tendons and wet cracks filling the air. Each rib became a projectile, a deadly javelin of adamantium that he hurled with precision. One rib pierced through the chest of a Minuteman, pinning him to a tree like a grotesque piece of modern art. Another rib caught a soldier mid-leap, slicing through his torso and sending him crashing to the ground in a heap.

“Oh, come on, guys! Don’t fall apart on me now!” Wade taunted, throwing another rib that speared two Minutemen at once, their bodies colliding in a heap before toppling like bowling pins.

When the ribs were exhausted, Deadpool turned his attention to Logan’s clavicles. “You’ve been holding out on me, Peanut! These bad boys are sharp!”

He yanked the clavicles free, wielding them like twin daggers. He leaped into the air, driving one clavicle into the joint of an approaching Minuteman, the sharp bone slicing through soft tissue with ease. The soldier screamed, but Deadpool spun behind him, plunging the second clavicle into his unprotected back.

“See? I’m just trying to get under your skin—literally!” Deadpool cackled, kicking the wounded soldier to the ground and turning toward the next threat.

The Minuteman charged, his timestick raised high, glowing with time-warping energy. Deadpool sidestepped the first swing and grabbed Logan’s pelvis from the skeleton. He held it up like a shield, using it to block the next strike. The timestick glanced off the pelvic bone with a flash of sparks, and Deadpool grinned beneath his mask.

“Oh, now this is just embarrassing for you,” he said, twisting the Minuteman’s wrist with the edge of the pelvis. The soldier cried out as the timestick slipped from his grasp, and Deadpool grabbed it mid-fall.

“Guess what? You just got... boned!” Wade quipped, using the pelvis to wrench the Minuteman’s arm backward. The soldier stumbled, hitting the ground hard as Deadpool pointed the timestick at him. With a push of the button, the Minuteman was pruned out of existence, disappearing in a flash of light.

Deadpool crouched low over what remained of Wolverine’s skeleton, his breathing heavy and erratic beneath the mask. The battlefield around him was littered with shattered helmets, crushed ribs, and the faint groans of defeated Minutemen. But Wade was far from done. His gaze fell on Logan’s forearms, the glint of adamantium beneath decayed tendons catching his eye.

“Alright, Peanut,” Wade muttered, grabbing the skeletal forearms with both hands. “Time to see just how versatile you really are. And by ‘versatile,’ I mean ‘how much shit I can wreck with your leftover bits.’”

With a grunt, he widened the bone structure of the forearms, splitting the tendons just enough to slide his arms inside. The grotesque sound of sinew stretching filled the air as he worked his way up to the elbows.

“Oh yeah, baby,” Wade purred, flexing his fingers inside the makeshift arm guards. “Elbow-length adamantium gloves. So 2025. Eat your heart out, Gucci.”

As a new wave of Minutemen approached, their timesticks glowing ominously, Wade’s fingers brushed against a taut tendon near the base of the forearm. He tilted his head, curiosity sparkling in his voice.

“What’s this little doohickey?” he asked, prodding the tendon like a cat with a new toy. Then, with a sudden SNIKT, Logan’s iconic claws shot out from the forearm bones, gleaming like deadly knives in the light.

Deadpool froze, his body stiff as the weight of what he’d just unleashed sank in. Slowly, ever so slowly, he looked down at his hands. The claws extended from his clenched fists like they were made for him, a perfect, albeit horrifying, fit.

“Ooooooohhhhh yeah,” Wade breathed, his voice a mix of awe and pure, unadulterated glee. He stood, backlit by the eerie glow of the TVA’s Time Door, his hunched figure radiating an almost primal menace. Wolverine’s claws glinted menacingly as Deadpool flexed his fingers, testing their strength.

“I am soaking wet right now,” he declared, his voice dripping with excitement.

The approaching Minutemen hesitated, their formation faltering as they took in the sight of Deadpool, fully armed with Wolverine’s legendary claws. Wade let out a low growl, his knees bending as he crouched into an animalistic stance. He tilted his head back and roared, a guttural, feral sound that echoed through the battlefield. For a moment, he was the embodiment of raw, unbridled chaos—a blood-soaked parody of Wolverine himself.

But then, as quickly as it had begun, the moment froze. The world seemed to hold its breath, and Deadpool straightened slightly, his head tilting as if he’d just remembered you were there.

“To be clear,” he said, his voice suddenly calm, even conversational, “I’m not proud of any of this. The wanton violence. The whiff of necrophilia. It isn’t who I am.”

He paused, looking down at the claws protruding from his fists, the absurdity of the moment sinking in.

“It isn’t who I want to be,” he continued, his tone almost reflective now. “Who I want to be—well, to help you understand that, I’ve gotta take you back. To a simpler time. A time before I was desecrating graves and wearing my dead friend like a goddamn suit of armor.”

He sighed, the claws retracting with a metallic shink as he flexed his fingers. “But you’re just going to have to wait for chapter three, dear reader. Because, let’s be honest, our little fingers can only type so fast, and you can’t have too much of a good thing all at once, can you?”

Deadpool gestured dramatically toward the carnage around him. “So go on, grab a snack, do some squats, maybe rewatch Logan—you know, for research. I’ll be here, keeping it... classy.”

With that, he gave a cheeky salute, his grin practically audible through the mask, before turning back to the battlefield, claws popping once more as he prepared to dive back into the fray.

[hermidetta]

it's a childish thing to do. it's far removed from the picture of sophistication she's spent years perfecting.

for once, dorothea doesn't care. it's hard to when stashed away in this bunker, watching classmates hobble on broken limbs and blinking back images of a burning world outside their door.

a frayed blanket is carefully lifted over their heads and adjusted so the thin fabric blocks out everything around them — the cramped quarters, the rundown and gaunt faces, the injuries. should the imagination be stirred, they might even find themselves in one of their rooms: two girls sitting on a bed, ducked beneath the covers and recounting the day's misadventures and otherwise.

"i didn't see you at mealtime," she whispers. from her pocket, dorothea retrieves a bread roll, and holds it out to bernadetta in offering. "here. a fuller stomach makes things a bit more bearable."

only a little.

her gaze falls onto the ground as she wraps her arms around her knees. there's a great deal she wishes to share — but a worn blanket and weary heart can only endure so much weight.

we had to kill a woman, bern. she begged us to. she was suffering. and still, i wanted to try and keep her alive. was that selfish of me? did i add to her misery? or should i have fought harder?

"how was your mission? you have no idea how much i've missed you."

i didn't see you at mealtime. bernadetta's absence is not an uncommon one. the kinder people who notice might bring her something later. they don't know that it isn't only about going outside. now that they are all here, strewn into conflict that may change them all, she has even fewer excuses to refuse.

"i wasn't hungry," mumbles bernadetta. but for dorothea, always, she can try. a hesitant glance at the bread. she has the decency to accept it, even though it sits in her hands like stone.

"we, um…" we had to choose to starve, or lose what made us ourselves. almost everyone chose the first one. it was probably because they were strong, or liked themselves. but me, i did it for the exact opposite. i've always done it for the exact opposite.

and for all of bernadetta's terrors throughout it, perhaps her outing came nowhere close to what had gripped dorothea so that she would bundle up with her now.

"we went through a lot, but we came out okay." the faintest shrug. then she lets herself tip sideways, leaned against dorothea, slipping an arm through her friend's and hugging it because this is where home is, too. after chewing on her own vagueness, lips part again to murmur: "linhardt really scared me. they started turning into… into some kind of giant dog monster?"

bernadetta tells her—about the village, mairenn, the forest, pasithee, the way she swung a saint's bow in desperation like a misshapen axe. she only omits the illusory feast and her own nausea from it.

"and i just don't know," she trails off, voice dwindling. "i don't know why all of this is happening. but i missed you, too. i wish we could've gone together..."

for countless reasons. but the one that gives bernadetta the most pause, as she stares blearily at the bread in her hands, finally slips out of her as a near whisper.

"did something... i mean, um... what happened?" they are here now. bernadetta is here. she gives dorothea's arm another gentle squeeze. warm, reassuring. solid despite all of her smallness, because bernadetta knows her best friend well enough. "if you want, you can always talk about it with me."

[bocchithelewd]

While Bridget was remarkably mobile and ‘in shape’ for a girl her size, there were just some realities of being so incredibly obese that couldn’t be avoided. The sheer size of her and how much room she took up being one of them, and the fact that her body was quite literally hot. In an enclosed space line the elevator, all of the fighters body heat had nowhere to go but radiate back towards her and the girls. Sweat dripped down her jowls and rolls, making everting just that much more damp. The elevator ride was only half over and already all three girls looked like they had already been to the pool. Bridget had to admit, while she was the most mobile girl in weight class…there was something about having to maneuvered around like a piece of heavy cargo. The simple joy of watching two smaller people figure out the logistics of how to move her and fit her into spaces…she should really pig out do she’d need this wheelchair for real.

“Hmm, we’ll it’s kind of this need that’s inside people, ya know? No one really knows they have it until they go all in. I remember when I was about your size Leah, and I didn’t get it! Then I had a meal with my friend May one day and just…BOOM! I had never eaten that much, my stomach was stretched full and even though I was near passing out, I wanted another bite. It made me realize that I’d never really indulged in food before. Never truly eaten.” She waxed poetic inside the sauna of a elevator. The ditzy girl could be rather poignant when it came to the ridiculous subject. “It is interesting talking to you too. Gals like me don’t get the opportunity to talk to people who aren’t really a part of the community….well, not part of it yet at least.” She giggled, still holding out hope to tempt one of em into it. Leah was a tough nut to crack, but Sarah might enjoy it….

Bridget let out a small yawn as she finally awoke. Another restful night of sleep after a long feast at this wonderful new hotel she found! She couldn't believe how well it catered to someone like her! The obese bounty hunter tossed the covers off and jumped out of bed, the room shaking slightly from her impressive weight hitting the floor. Bridget was.... bizarrely athletic for someone her size. She'd been a pretty good fighter before she decided to pack on the weight, able to be thrown through walls or throw people through them. Because of this, despite most of the other guests who were around the same weight as her needing multiple mobility aids, she was doing just fine and dandy moving under her own power. She did notice it was starting to get a little awkward having to turn around, so her mobility was actually starting to wane, but the bubbly butterball didn't pay much heed to it. The blonde noticed that her clothes were a little tight, pockets of blubber poking out through her zipper....eh, it'll be fine. if she outgrows this hoodie, then she outgrows it. She waddled towards the door and opened it up, pleasantly surprised to see one of the hotel staff on the other end! "Oh, hey there! Great recommendation for last night's dinner by the way! There was so much good food and stuff I never thought of eating, like sticks of butter, fryer oil and just globs of pure dough! Oooh, and its name was super cute! 'The Last Meal'. Heh!" She giggled, Bridget not really respecting the macabre nature of that bounty and that for many of the hotel residents, it was their last meal.

Leah would stare for a bit before whispering. "Eh-?... W-Wait, that's seriously a meal name here? The hell is that girl feeding these people??"

"N-Now now, Leah. Focus. This is different from serving the usual clientele at home..." Sarah informed her sister as she cleared her throat with a smile. "Um, Bridget-san, yes? It's a pleasure to meet you. Ms. Ohara has sent us to check in on you and see if there's anything you'd like to order or need assistance with."

The elder Kazuno bowed with a smile. "My sister and I are new staff members as of today. We look forward to working with you~............ Psst, Leah, manners."

"Ngh-... I-It's a pleasure..." (She's HUGE!! Is everyone this big?... Is Ruby this big?!)

[annyankers]

I’m once again irrationally mad about how people complain about the magic metaphors in buffy work (the whole dark magic=addiction, wicca = gay shit thing).

Like I cannot express how frustrating it is to see people bitching about how things like Dark Willow “don’t make sense” because “magic/Wicca was a originally metaphor for queerness“ or whatever as tho the first two major episodes in the series where magic was used (1x3 “Witch” and 2x8 “Dark Ages” ) weren’t all about the dark/inappropriate/destructive/abusive use of magic.

People loooooooveeeeee Giles’ past as Ripper and delight over things like “Band Candy” where we see him go Full Ripper but cannot for the life of them seem to remember that we first even LEARNED ABOUT THAT PART OF HIM IN DARK AGES WHERE HE TALKED ABOUT BASICALLY MAGICALLY PARTYING SO HARD HIS FRIEND DIED. THIS IS OUR FIRST MAJOR CHARACTER EPISODE THAT’S GOT MAGIC AS A MAIN FOCAL ELEMENT! THIS IS THE ORIGINAL METAPHOR!

The queerness is still kinda baked in there because of the Ethan Of It All but it’s first and foremost a metaphor about like, all the shit that classically leads to substance abuse and the worst outcomes that can come from it. Willow and Tara are an example of the “good” side of magic ( I’ll say Jenny is also in this section but they do so fucking little w/ her technopagan-ness so). They’re also pretty explicitly said to be “Wiccans” which I also have some issues with because of how Wicca is portrayed/talked about in the show (the Silver RavenWolf energy of it all is so galling). But like, that’s literally a whole fucking different subsection/practice of witchcraft/magic. This is like getting mad at water polo for muddling the metaphor of jet skiing. Like yes, they both are water sports but I think you’ll that they’re not the same fucking one and work completely differently.

Magic is not just 1 set of spells and rituals, it’s a multifaceted, multilayered, multi-pathed thing. With Giles we see how it can go Very Wrong and with Willow and Tara in S4-5 we see how it can go Very Right (and how it can be used to help get the Gay in the show around the Fox Censors). Willow increasingly having issues with magic/substance abuse is NOT a mixed metaphor/bad writing/ruining the gay metaphor and implying gays are bad. It’s USING THE OTHER ALREADY ESTABLISHED MAGIC METAPHOR AS PART OF HER CHARACTER ARC. WILLOW CAN BE QUEER AND ALSO HAVE A SUBSTANCE ABUSE ISSUE! GILES ARGUABLY DID IT FIRST ANYWAY (again, the Ethan Of It All)!

Willow has ALWAYS been insecure, a lil bit of a control freak, someone who wants to be HER REAL SELF and also someone TOTALLY DIFFERENT. Like she wants to be Willow but only if it’s a Willow who’s better/cooler/stronger/prettier etc. Someone who’s not the “pathetic loser” she still sees herself as even in season 6 and hasn’t totally shaken in season 7. These desires both to feel more In Control/Better and Not Yourself are classic reasons people will turn to substance abuse. For Willow is it MUCH easier to do a wizard spell to “fix” a problem than it is to like, fucking confront her issues of self-loathing and self-worth and like.... go to therapy. And that’s what gets her in trouble just like it has for so many others before her. Like in many ways Dark/Addict Willow is like seeing Giles’ Ripper Era live and on screen plus maybe a lil bit on steroids.

Magic can be used as part of more than 1 metaphor and the substance abuse metaphor came first. Stop pretending like it never existed in the show until season 6.

[sskk-manifesto]

Finally got around to watching ep 11 (´；ω；｀)

[theonpilled]

x

[our-song-of-hope]

Finished the pictomancer questline. Both the job & quests are very good :)

[slothydaydreamer]

Ep 1-5 of Good Omens Season 2: lol this is just like a fanfiction coming true, visualised on the screen, amazing work everyone, we're having a good time here

The first 40 minutes of episode 6: holy shit, this is going into hyper mode fanfiction what is even happening, did they really just cram that into the last episode? This is sickingly cute but what—

The last 15 minutes of episode 6: the most agonizing moments of my life, crawling at a snail pace, I'm stopping every few seconds because I'm in distress and can't bear it, what is even happening, how, why, HOW? Contemplating my life decisions, especially making the decision to binge this and be left in shambles

[rex3o]

Doting wife

Royal au! Sukuna x Reader

Being the emperors wife was something that you would have not expected to be in the position of. Many would think being the emperors wife, would bring in love, happiness and luxury. Yet your husband would be nothing of the sorts, yes you heard of his reputation. A cold and ruthless emperor with a thriving empire, you entered his palace with big hopes and determination of changing him to be a loving husband.

oh how wrong you was.

After 4 years of marriage and a heir to his throne, he was as cold and ruthless the day you met him. Every interaction was short or met with silence. You put effort in your duties as his wife and empress to the empire to impress him. Yet nothing. You wore his favourite colour. Nothing. You did your make up differently. Nothing. You tried talking to him about things he was interested... and nothing. He was not phased. During the birth of your son, he was nowhere to be seen only to come in the following morning and smile at the sight of his son. yet when his red eyes met yours his smile dropped.

So here you sat in the royal gardens watching your three year old son chase a butterfly with his toy sword. Letting your mind wander, you had tried everything.. what was you not doing that he hasn't even dropped a single thought on you. Your lady in waiting looked at you a bit confused as you continued to stare hardly at nothing.

"Your majesty" she says softly yet anxiously, as she looks at you while drifting her eyes to whatever thing you was staring at.

"hmm" you say.

"are you uh.. quite alright you seem to be staring at.." as she is lost for words.

You snap out of your thoughts and look at her, your eyes widening a little.

"oh apologises, I seemed to have lost myself in thought."

She exhales as she smiles at you.

"oh that is fine.. may I ask about what?"

"oh nothing.. you know.. thoughts." you say not really wanting to indulge on the countless attempts of getting your husband to even give a glance at you.

Your eyes land back on your son as you find him aggressively hitting the dead bug on the ground. Definitely his father's son. You thought. You got up from your seat as you approached your son to stop his insane antics and bring him back inside. The boy huffs and drops his toy sword and runs back inside as you followed after him, walking back inside the palace you spot Sukuna walking with several of his advisors, as they head somewhere. You do not let your eyes linger for long as you follow after where your son had ran off.

After several hours of chasing your son around the palace, you managed to catch him and get him ready for dinner. As you both head inside the dining hall, he runs and takes his space next to his father. Sukuna sat on his seat already busying himself with the food. You sit down and remain silent. How odd. You're never quiet at dinner. You ate your food only glancing at your son to see if he is eating like a proper boy and not gobbling his food like a damn animal.

Dinner goes swiftly, without a word as Sukuna finishes, you take your leave. He gives a quick glance at your figure.

The days went on, this new personality of yours. Quiet, not chatty as before. The little interactions of yours, well one sided conversations, with Sukuna went from infrequent to zero. He noticed this. As you slowly put your effort and interest into other things besides him. Sukuna would find himself at least hoping for a glance of you around the palace. Hell he would be even be satisfied by you uttering a single word at the dinner table. But no.

There you three was again at the table, silence except for your son's occasional ramble of what he did today to his father.

Sukuna bore his eyes onto you, as his son's yapping went from one ear to another. Gripping onto his utensils as he waits for your eyes to meet his, for you to utter something. Yet you sat on the opposite end eating your food finding the chandelier to be the most interesting thing you came across the whole day.

"Have we lost our manners suddenly." he blurts out annoyed.

You stop chewing as you slowly look at your husband, as if he grew a pair of wings and started to fly.

"pardon..." was the only thing you could conjure up.

"I am your husband, you are supposed to greet me, ask me how my day is.. have you forgotten your role wife?" he demands. Yet your clueless face irked him more.

".. uh- how was your day?" you ask, not knowing if you should or not. Sukuna grunts in response.

"that's more like it." Is all he says, as you remain confused for the remainder of the dinner.

Your interaction with Sukuna stuck out like sore thumb to you for the next couple of days. You did not know what to make of it. You stood silent, as the advisor chattered along on what to do for the next royal event. The advisor realising that your mind was on something else he quietened down waiting for you to speak. As you came back to reality, you looked at him confused.

"w-we can do this on another day empress if your feeling under the weather." he says anxiously. You just barked out a laugh.

"I am good, something had caught my attention, please continue." You say, as he goes continues. The door to the private meeting room swings open as Sukuna enters and makes his way next to you. The advisor taken aback looks at you if he should continue.

"Continue" Sukuna commands as the man starts his nervous ramble now more directed to Sukuna for the royal event. The meeting ends, the advisor leaves defeated as he didn't get much answers from the both of you.

This new behaviour of his continued, every day at least at one point of your day, he makes himself known and sit with you till he seems fit. He doesn't say anything some days but others he would demand you to say something, whatever it was you was doing on that day he will involve himself. Even if it was watching your son fight an imaginary dragon. But you did not back down. Yes this was entertaining watching your husband finally put some sort of an effort. So you kept this behaviour of yours up. Almost like a silent contest on who is going to break first.

As the day of the royal event dawned, you spoke to your guests, in your beautiful gown. Your presence captured everyone's attention.. even your husband. As a duke kindly asked for your hand for a dance. You took his request, as you both waltzed on the ballroom floor. As he lets you go for you to spin, you are met back with a familiar set of arms. Your eyes met your husbands crimson eyes.

You hold back your smile, as he lead you to dance. Everyone's lingering eyes drifted away, the music blending away in the back of your mind, as you both danced.

"You did not wear red.." Sukuna comments. You look back up at him.

"I have worn red too many times." You retort.

"Too many times.. even for your husband?"

All you did was shrug your shoulders, as his hand your waist tightens.

"You used to gab my ears off woman.. now your as silent as a mouse." He comments.

"And..?"

"Has my efforts not been enough.." He quietly says in your ear.

"You think, a couple weeks of you spending some time with me, making me question you is effort" you say back in disbelief.

"It is something woman" he says slightly annoyed.

You look at him, as your smile slowly fades.

"I spent the last four years, catering to your needs, acting as a good wife to you.. yet the moment I stop you suddenly remember you have a wife and start acting like somewhat of a companion-"

"companion" he says offended. "I have treated you like a husband should, I spent time with you, I spoke to you, I provided you with a palace and riches."

"oh thank you for doing the bare minimum." as you push yourself away from him and composing yourself as you walked away from the ballroom floor. Sukuna stands there as he walks off the opposite direction not wanting to make a scene in front of his guests clearly annoyed.

While the event progresses, as all he could think about was you, what you said. He watched your every move, every word you uttered to your guests, every sip you took from your glass, every hand movement. He took note of it. He did not care if people realised he was staring you down. He couldn't wrap his head around how you could even think of speaking to him like that.

Was what he did not enough? Before you would swoon if he even said a word to you. Now you did not care. You would chatter his ear off about things you assumed he would be interested in. Now silence. All your efforts now gone.

What was he not doing to get you back to being his doting little wife.

part 2

-

big FAT authors note : I cannot lie guys I am not fit for long fics but yk what I can do... make one shots so please enjoy what my mind could conjure up for 15 minutes after having 3 cups of chai. Also I may have a thing for historical au I dunno. my head is NOT working. so pls if there is any mistakes do LMK!

- R

[systlin]

So, to explain my little adventure I just got back from, it is necessary to set the scene by explaining a few things.

My dog is a Great Pyraneese. She weighs 90 Pounds. It is mostly muscle.

My neighbors a quarter mile down the road have chickens. They like to let them free range.

Now, this is not a problem at all, EXCEPT for the fact that whenever Tyr sees them something deep in her little livestock guardian breed brain goes "Oh, I am supposed to be Responsible for this Livestock." She will attempt to plonk her 90 pound furry ass down as far towards their yard as her leash will permit and want to sit there and simply stare at the chickens. She is not aggressive towards them, she simply wants to lie down and Keep An Eye On Things, the way a good livestock guardian dog is supposed to. It is the same reason she would love to fight the foxes that live under the falling down farmhouse down the street to the death and is very upset that I will not let her.

The PROBLEM is, well

3. My neighbors also have a miniature poodle. She is convinced, in every cell of her 15 pound body, that No Other Dogs Should Come Anywhere Near Her Fucking Yard. She has no concept that Tyr outweighs her by 75 pounds and is absolutely convinced that she could win this fight.

Normally if she's outside she is out in the fenced backyard and this isn't a problem. I also don't let Tyr wander into other yards, because it's rude to let your dog pee on the neighbor's grass unless they've said they're fine with it and also I live in Fuckass Nowhere. There's plenty of county owned grass on the roadside for Tyr to pee on. Still, even if I'm coaxing her along past the chickens, she will want to slow down and drift over to that side of the road to look at them.

TODAY, however, the mini poodle was NOT in the backyard. She was in the unfenced front yard, and as soon as we walked past she saw another dog not ON her yard, but heading TOWARDS her yard, and she hurled herself into battle with no thought for her own safety.

Now, Tyr is not aggressive towards other dogs. There is an exception to this, though, and it is 'unless an off leash dog comes running full speed in the general direction of one of Her People while snarling and barking'. If this happens, I suddenly have 90 pounds of Great Pyr ready for mortal combat on the end of the leash.

This brings us to item 4

4. I broke my left arm in April and while it is healing and good for light use now, 'Light Use' does not include 'restraining 90 pounds of furious livestock guardian dog convinced her person is about to be attacked by a reactive dog'

This means that I looped up the leash short and controlled her one armed. I did not think about this twice particularly. I know I can do it and just. Did it. I wouldn't walk her if I couldn't control her, after all. Once she figured out that no, the poodle was NOT going to attack me, she calmed down, but was still growling.

But I did this as a panicked neighbor dude came running out to try and get his dog, convinced that his kids were about to watch their beloved pet get turned into Great Pyr chow.

Oh and

5. I did this while wearing a Wonder Woman tshirt

So, long story short, his 4 year old daughter is convinced now that I actually AM Wonder Woman, because "She's Strong Like Wonder Woman!" and my neighbor learned that his poodle dug out from under the fence, how's everyone else's days going.

(All dogs unhurt)

[eufezco]

LIKE THE FIRST TIME

it has been a long time since you and logan had sex. you should show him that despite everything he hated about himself, you still craved him.

logan x afab!reader (smut, angst) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!). gif credit to @/asgardswinter

it was a shitty place where you were living with logan. it was always dirty, no matter how many times you cleaned it, it was noisy, because despite being in the middle of nowhere, the train tracks were very close to it, and it was the least home-like thing in the world. both of you were working your asses off to get out of there as soon as possible.

in your free time, you helped caliban with the housework and took care of old charles xavier while logan spent the whole day out, driving and having to deal with one of the things he hated most in the world, people.

he always came home late, tired, with his whole body aching. some nights you would fall asleep while waiting for him and even though logan asked you to do it, to not to wait up for him, most times you stayed up so just to make sure he arrived safely. you waited for him curled up in bed. when he was a minute late, your heart began to beat faster and you imagined the worst. but then he would come into the room, dragging his feet and with his head bowed down.

—how was your day?

logan grunted as he sat at the foot of your bed, you felt how the mattress sagged with his weight.

—did something happen?

you crawled to him and rested your chin on his shoulder. he let out a sigh of relief when your arms wrapped around his body and you hugged him from the back.

—just a tired fuckin' day, that's all.

you hummed, understanding. —well, now you are home so you can finally relax. would you like something to eat?

logan shook his head as he let it fall back and rest on your shoulder. he just wanted to stay like that a little longer with his body between your legs and his eyes closed. he placed one of his hands over yours resting on his stomach as you hugged him. one of his big hands was enough to cover both of yours.

—i've missed you, lo. i always miss you when you are away.

you placed a kiss on his neck. the first thing he did when he entered the house was to get rid of his shirt, keeping only the white tank top he was wearing underneath. his broad shoulders were at your disposal, his muscular arms and warm skin as well.

logan swallowed when he felt your lips on his neck. you noticed so you placed another kiss there.

—i miss you too. every second i spend away from you, i miss you.

you hummed, your heart gave a small jump of joy. while your love language was words of affirmation and you were always reminding him how much he was loved by you, logan was more of an act of service man. removing makeup from your face when you got home and were too tired to do it yourself, washing your hair and massaging your head when you showered, and leaving your coffee ready when he went to work earlier than you. hearing those words come out of logan's mouth meant the whole world.

your hands traveled down his abdomen until they reached the hem of his tshirt and easily slipped under the fabric. you felt his perfect abs under your fingertips and the hairs growing below his belly button as well. he took a deep breath, it had been so long since the last time he had allowed you to touch him like that.

you took your hands out of his tshirt and moved one of them to his neck to make logan turn his head resting on your shoulder and look at you. you connected your lips with his, his bushy beard pricked your face as you kissed him, but you didn't mind, it had been so long since you and logan had kissed so passionately that you could take it.

your tongue slipped past his lips and logan moaned, allowing his to go inside your mouth as well. you moved on the bed, putting one leg on each side of logan's body and sitting on his lap, all this without stopping kissing for a second. his hands now rested on your lower back, yours were on the back of his head to deepen the kiss.

his cock got rock hard the moment you sat on his thighs and you started to roll your hips timidly against his crotch. you felt his growing bulge rubbing against your clit through the thin fabric of your underwear. god, how bad you needed to feel him.

your hands slid down from his neck, caressing his entire torso, until they reached again the hem of his tshirt. you tried to pull the white tank top over his head, but logan stopped you. his lips parted from yours and he shook his head.

—it's okay. i want you, logan. i promise everything is fine.

you held his cheeks so he would look you in the eyes.

he was getting old, there was nothing left of the young and charming boy you met at charles' academy. his body had changed, his hair and beard were becoming whiter every day, and you were still young and full of light while he was fading away. yet you still loved and desired him, like the first day you craved his body. you found him just as hot, even hotter now, but you didn't want to force him to do something he wasn't going to enjoy.

you kissed him so he could stop worrying. —let me take care of you. i want you, lo, i need to feel you —.you mumbled against his lips. he let out a grunt when he felt you pressing your pussy harder on his bulge.

your hands traveled the same path down his chest one more time until you reached the edge of his tshirt again. you expected him to take your hands off him again but he not only allowed you to keep going but he also lifted his arms so you could pull the white tank top over his head.

—fuck —. you let out in a mix of moan and gasp. his body was breathtaking. your hands were quickly attached to his chest, hairy, hard under your touch, warm, with each of its muscles perfectly defined. abs, pecs, perfect broad and muscular shoulders, and wide strong arms, with veins running from his shoulder down his arms to the back of his hands. you ran your fingers along the thick scars that marked his body. —fuck, you're so hot.

with his hands on your back, logan gently pushed you to keep rubbing yourself against him and you moaned, he was harder if possible and you were so wet that you knew that your panties would be completely soaked. you kissed the crook of his neck while his fists clenched, clutching at the tshirt of his that you were wearing as your pajamas. logan fought against his instinct, against the animalistic way you were making him feel, but his grip became so tight that he ended up ripping the fabric.

—it was one of your favorite tshirts.

—don't care.

and logan kissed your lips as he ended up tearing the fabric completely and threw it on the floor. you grabbed the back of his head when his lips moved down your neck and collarbone. your nipples were already painfully hard when logan cupped one of your tits and wrapped his mouth around your sensitive bud.

all of a sudden you got up from his lap and he had to let your nipple go. he was worried about the way you had moved away from him, had he done something wrong?

now you were standing in the middle of the room, in front of him, only wearing your panties. your body was the most beautiful thing his eyes had ever witnessed, with scars very similar to his, with all those things you hated about yourself. was that how you felt about him? if it had not been for the pain in his whole body he would have fallen off the bed on his knees in front of you.

he huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes once you started swaying your hips from side to side while you slid your underwear down your legs. you laughed too, you felt stupid, but at least you had managed to make him smile. you two weren't the type to do those things, things were always more animalistic, more passionate, rougher. you walked towards him and leaned in to kiss him as your hands worked on the zipper of his jeans.

—you're beautiful —. he whispered.

logan helped you to straddle him again. you held your body over his thanks to your knees on the bed. with one hand you grabbed his hard cock resting impatiently against his stomach. he gasped because of your firm grip and squeezed your hips when you lined it up against your aching entrance.

you lowered yourself just enough for his tip to go in. he let out a deep grunt straight from his chest, you let out all the air you had in your lungs in a moan. you never forgot how big he was, the thickness of his cock, the patch of hair on its base, and the veins running along his shaft, but you did forget about the way it stretched you open, about the sting that his dick going deeper inside you caused.

—careful —. logan mumbled against your lips.

you kept taking him, closing your eyes shut and biting your lower lip, hissing every time you took a centimeter more inside of you. you rested your forehead against his and whined when his cock finally bottomed you. —i need a moment.

logan nodded. one of your hands sneaked in between your bodies and found your clit while his hands lovingly caressed your back. it had been so long since you had sex. logan wouldn't let you touch him, he was disgusted by his own body and he was afraid that you would see him the way he saw himself. that's why that night you decided that you would make him feel so good that he would never doubt the way you felt about him or his body.

you started by slowly rolling your hips as your fingers worked on your clit. his jaw tightened while he felt your body moving with his whole cock inside. his big hands on your hips helped you to move, setting a pace and keeping you from going faster so you wouldn't hurt yourself.

—that's it, take your time —. he said. young logan wouldn't have given you a second to get used to it, he would have fucked you mercilessly and you would have loved every second of it. but now, his eyes were focused on where your bodies became one, enjoying how your pussy adjusted to his size thanks to your fingers rubbing your clit.

he moaned once you lifted your body just a little and then dropped back onto him. you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his lips while you repeated that same move again and again. your cries and his moans mixed in your mouths. all his body jerked every time you lifted yourself a bit more and then sucked his cock completely inside you again.

—you make me feel so good, logan. always have, fuck—. you purred in his ear. his hands, previously resting on your hips, slid all the way to your ass your hands and squeezed it. in those little details you could see how he was gaining confidence, which encouraged you to keep moving without changing your pace. it was slow, passionate, intense and intimate.

between moans and cries, you kept worshiping him, telling him how much you had missed feeling him inside you, how your fingers were no comparison to his cock, how you didn't want to share these moments with anyone other than him. there was no one like him. you didn't care about his scars, his moodiness, the gray of his hair, there would never be another one for you but logan, you did not want another one.

you were close, he could feel it in the way your walls were squeezing his cock and he knew he wouldn't last longer. logan wrapped his arms around your body, pressing you against his hard chest, and your fingers knotted into his hair. he groaned, your little jumps became irregular, your legs began to shake. logan hugged you tighter and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, getting a little choked cry from you.

—cum inside me, lo. fill me up, please, i need it. let me have it, please.

oh god, your words were driving him insane and after how well you had treated him, who was he to deny your wishes?

logan held your body down on his cock as he came, hugging you tighter against him. you buried your head into the crook of his neck, moaning into his skin while your legs shook and your pussy clenched around him. it was too much. as he released himself inside you, his claws came out and trapped you between them and logan's body, you had no escape. he groaned when he felt the pain of the adamantium ripping the skin off his knuckles mixed with all the pleasure of cumming inside you.

—shit —. he immediately put the claws away when he realized. —i haven't hurt you, have i?

you shook your head, still coming down from your high. he exhaled with relief. once you had caught your breath, you straightened your back, still sitting on his lap and feeling his cock getting soft inside you. you brought his hands to the front.

—are you okay? that probably hurt —. you caressed his knuckles.

—felt too good to even think about it.

you smiled proudly and kissed him. when you broke away, he noticed the mark of his teeth on the skin of your shoulder. —'m so sorry, fuck.

—don't be. i wish you had bitten me harder.

he shook his head, keeping himself from laughing. —you're a freak.

[teamred]

any other way

✩‌ logan howlett/wolverine x reader | fluff | 1.8k

SUMMARY | in which your good friend, wade, ditches your planned movie night, but his roommate offers to watch one with you instead. however, logan ends up falling asleep on your shoulder.

WARNINGS | drinking, kissing, swearing, gets a little steamy/handsy

RATING | teen+

NOTES | it's funny... i've been a big x-men fan for a while, but i never really fell for logan until d&w. if this pops off, maybe i'll write more for him!!!

///

“Wade, hurry up and let me in! A girl can only hold freshly popped popcorn for so—oh.” 

Instead of your dear, annoying friend, it’s his gorgeous, rugged roommate who answers the apartment door instead. Your eyes sweep over him, taking a liking to how his brown plaid button-up drapes over his white tank top. His clothing choices compliment his sturdy frame and strong pecs. His facial hair is perfectly groomed and—  

And it doesn’t help that you have just the teeniest, tiniest crush on him. 

“Logan, hey!” you exclaim, a little too enthusiastically. “I didn’t know you were going to be here for movie night too.” 

“Wade’s not here, bub,” Logan says, leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms and a sympathetic half-smile.

“What?! That little shit said he’d be free tonight…”  You sigh, shaking your head. “Well, it’s all good. I’ll just—” 

“Did you want to watch a movie with me instead?” Logan offers. You think you hear a hint of hopefulness in his voice. “Since you came out all this way?” 

Your eyebrows shoot up. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother you. I’m sure you’re—”

“Darlin’,” he interrupts with a soft chuckle. Your heart stumbles at the sound. “I have never been more free on a Saturday night. You’re welcome to join me, but only if you’re comfortable with it.” 

Now your heart is melting over his kindness. You smile warmly. “I always feel comfortable around you, Logan.” 

He returns the smile and gestures for you to come in, offering to take the popcorn and if you want anything as you remove your shoes.

“I got it, but thank you. A beer would be good,” you reply, settling in on one end of the couch in the living room. You glance around curiously. “Is Blind Al not home either?” 

“Yeah,” Logan calls from the nearby kitchen, bending towards the open fridge to grab the drinks. “She’s getting, in her own words, ‘turned up’ at the casino tonight.”

You snicker as you browse through streaming services to pick a movie for tonight. Logan returns with a beer in each hand and you’re surprised when he takes the middle seat next to you. You catch a whiff of his scent and it is intoxicating–a blend of woody notes, perhaps leather and pine. 

“So what’s the movie for tonight?” Logan asks, taking a sip from his bottle. 

“Well, be honest with me here: Wade promised that we could watch this new movie that just released a few days ago, but it’s a romantic movie, so—” 

“Of course,” he cuts in with a roll of his eyes, tossing a kernel into his mouth. “That’s his favourite genre.” 

You deflate a little. “Okay, with that tone, I’m assuming I will have to change the movie choice.” 

“No! Don’t change it because of me,” Logan quickly interjects. “We can watch whatever you want. I’m genuinely content to just sit here and do something other than watching reruns I’ve seen a million times before.” 

You study him for a moment, trying to gauge his sincerity. “Are you sure?” 

“I’m sure,” he reassures you, nodding and flashing another smile. You will yourself to calm your racing heart and focus on finding the movie. Once you select it, you press play and relax into the couch cushions. 

Out of nowhere, Logan places his arm around you, his hand slightly hovering above your shoulders. You stiffen at the unexpected move, unsure why he’s doing it. But then he quickly pulls back, shuffling a bit away from you.

“Shit, sorry,” he mutters, clearly embarrassed. “It’s out of habit when I watch stuff.”

“You can leave your arm there,” you blurt out. You don’t even register the words coming out of your mouth. Where was this boldness coming from? 

He quirks an eyebrow, amused. “Yeah?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you nod fervently, rushing to grab your beer to steady your nerves. Taking a long sip, you try to force your body to relax again. 

The first few minutes of the movie starts quite slow, but your eyes are glued to the screen to ensure you don’t miss the exposition. Just as you reach for the popcorn, so does Logan, and the back of your hands brush against each other. 

“Sorry,” you both mumble, glancing at each other in awkwardness and something hanging in the air. He juts his chin out with a subtle smirk, gesturing you to go first. You grab a handful, and as he follows suit, his fingers graze against yours, causing you to shiver. 

The air in the room is electric, and you wonder if the tension is just in your head or if Logan feels it too. The movie continues, but your thoughts are consumed by the warmth of his body so close to yours and the possibility of what might happen next. 

Later into the movie, you freeze as you feel Logan leaning in closer. You turn your head, ready for what might happen–

But then, he goes completely lax, slouching into your shoulder and resting his head in a comfortable position. 

“I should’ve chosen a different movie…” you think, shaking your head. 

It’s hard to focus on the movie with this gorgeous being asleep on your shoulder (and the movie doesn’t seem to be that great anyway). Towards the end of the movie, your attention drifts completely and you indulge in how Logan sleeps. His soft snoring. The gentle squeezes he gives your shoulder as he dreams. The steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes in and out. 

Suddenly, Logan stirs and lifts his head, almost snorting up air cutely. He blinks groggily. “Oh, shit. I’m sorry, gorgeous. Did I sleep through the movie?” 

You hesitate, hung up on the fact that he called you gorgeous. Your cheeks prickle as you search for the right words to say.

“Yeah, you did,” you whisper with a small smile. “But it’s fine. It wasn’t that great anyway.” 

“Mm, figures,” he mumbles. “Did you wanna watch another movie or—” 

As he straightens up, you instinctively lean towards him, closing the gap between you two. Your noses practically touch.

“Or did you wanna do…” Logan’s voice is low and gravelly. You hold your breath and hold his gaze. “...something else?” 

You barely nod, and he drags you into a searing kiss. His hands cup your cheek and neck with urgency. Soon enough, his tongue dips into your mouth, sending a jolt to your core. 

Logan cradles your body and carefully positions you lower onto the couch. The weight of his body pressed up against you sends you into overdrive. His hands dive underneath your shirt, exploring your soft skin. The pressure of his body against yours leaves you breathless. Not only the pressure of his body, but also his—

“Winner winner, chicken dinner!” 

Wade’s booming voice cuts through the front door like a tornado, forcing both of you to scramble away faster than opposing magnets. However, it’s too late; Wade has witnessed everything. 

“Oh, my God, Blind Al, my plan worked! It fucking worked!” Wade squeals, jumping up and down. 

“Oh, no. Are they butt-ass naked on the couch? Times like these, I’m grateful to be blind.” 

“No, they’re thankfully fully clothed. But they were just dry humping the shit out of each other though.” 

“You ditched movie night on purpose, you asshole!” you screech. 

“Hey, you should be thanking me,” Wade retorts with a wink. “You and Wolvie always have had palpable sexual tension every time you were in a room together. Hell, even Laura agreed it’d be a good idea to set you two up.” 

Logan and you exchange a sheepish smile, acknowledging the truth in Wade's words. 

“Blind Al and I will just be basking in our casino winnings with a few drinks and then we’ll be out of your hair in a few. And then you two can carry on and fuck each other freely on the couch.” 

“But keep it down, please,” Blind Al adds with a hint of desperation.

“I probably should get going now,” you chime in, eager to avoid the awkwardness. Logan quickly follows behind, walking you to the front door. 

“I’m sorry about all this,” he says in sincerity.

You wave him off. “You never have to apologize for them. They’re like family; I’m used to them.” 

“I didn’t know where the night was heading, but—” He turns around to check over his shoulder, lowering his voice and leaning in slightly. “—I’m glad Wade set us up.” 

“Heard that!” Wade calls out from inside the apartment. 

“Damn it,” Logan mutters, making you giggle. “Anyways, would you let me take you out on a proper date tomorrow night?” 

You beam as you reply, “I’d love that.” 

“Great, I’ll call you later.” 

Logan steps outside of the apartment and closes the door behind him, pulling you in by your waist for another kiss. Innocent at first, but then he presses you up against the wall and his hands grips at your waist, extracting a few moans from you.

“Either get back inside or just go home with her rather than wall-fucking her outside of the apartment!” Wade’s muffled voice echoes through the thin walls. 

Logan retreats slightly, his breath warm against your cheek. He keeps his voice low. “And not trying to put pressure on our date tomorrow, but if—”

“If things get heated, let’s go back to my place,” you finish his thought with a soft promise. 

His eyes light up with a relieved smile. “You read my mind. Thank you.” 

You smile into one last kiss, the world fading away as you savor the sensation of Logan’s mouth on yours.

Until Wade pops his head out through the door like a whack-a-mole you’re dying to hit. “Okay, seriously. I will offer you my bedroom, if you’re really that horny, you guys.” He calls out your name. “Also, did you know he can smell how horny you are?” 

“I—what?” you stammer, blinking in confusion.

“Wade, shut the fuck up,” Logan snaps with gritted teeth. He faces you again with a gentle smile. “Have a good night, gorgeous. I’ll call you as soon as you get back home.” 

Logan’s a man of his word, almost calling immediately as you stepped foot in your apartment (with Wade providing unnecessary commentary in the background, as always). 

Later, as you get ready for bed, you can’t help but admit how grateful you were for Wade’s set-up. If it wasn’t for him, neither of you would’ve made a move; it would’ve progressed at a glacial pace. 

Lying in bed and looking up at your bedroom ceiling, you think to yourself how tonight truly was perfect, and you wouldn’t have had it any other way. Smiling, you drift off to sleep, dreaming of what tomorrow’s date might bring. 

ENDING NOTES | thank you so much for reading and giving some love! part two can be read here!

[noisilyscreechingsong]

“The what?”

Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.

So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.

Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.

“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.

“Same,” Danny agrees.

“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.

The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.

“Bet.”

They look at Duke.

Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.

Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.

“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”

Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.

“What’d you see?”

Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.

“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.

“Need a hand?”

Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.

“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.

Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”

“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.

Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.

“Whoa-“

Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.

The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.

“Holy crap! Danny!”

“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”

“What is wrong with you?”

“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”

“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.

“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.

The three brothers all pause and look at him.

“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.

“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.

Danny pulls it back out of reach.

“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.

“What do you-“

But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.

The batboys glance at each other.

“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”

“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”

“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.

“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”

“Cool. That’s fine.”

**

After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.

[evangelifloss]

Thinking about a certain scene in Dungeon Meshi that completely encapsulates the Autistic experience of making friends as an adult and how hard it is to try and navigate it without ending up getting hurt.

Like IDK about y'all, but this is a common problem ALOT of Autistic Adults face when trying to make friends with other people, because unlike children who aren't good at keeping their opinions to themselves, Adults ARE. In society, we're even encouraged to "keep the peace" "be polite" and etc, which commonly leads to awful scenarios as shown above when Laois finds out his buddy has come to resent who Laois is without actually telling him. All too often the friends that we love to hang out with, people that we're so happy to spend time with, don't feel the same way and in many cases, come to blame us for our social cues or lack thereof.

And when/if we do eventually find out how our friend feels, Dungeon Meshi hits us with another painful panel of how that usually ends up playing out.

It's hard for Adults with Autism to make friends, and even harder to maintain them because alot of the ways Neurotypicals tell other Neurotypicals that they don't like a certain behavior is by quietly disengaging. Whether that involves having one sentence answers, going quiet, or having a certain tone in their voice, all those things signal annoyance or disapproval, but for the Neurodivergents, those subtle cues are completely missed.

And yet when we inevitably discover we DID do something, it is natural to ask "well why didn't you tell me?" because in our minds, it should've been the next step in the equation. However for the Neurotypicals, that's NOT something to bring up. Its important to be SUBTLE about the issue at hand and rely on signals to tell the other person. Blame is placed on us for not noticing the "obvious" signs of disapproval rather than the idea of talking it out as such things are uncomfortable and harder to do. Alot of the time what ends up happening is resentment due to the idea that it was "obvious" and the fact one didn't notice indicates a deliberate ignorance rather than a complete unawareness. It ends up calling into question our quality as a person and our sincerity. We get called "fake" or "malicious" or even "stupid" for failing social cues rather than questioning the decision to be indirect and vague.

For a manga about exploring the dungeon, it seems that the artist would rather explore very real and prevalent dynamics in society with the adventuring premise as a backdrop. I felt VERY seen in these panels, and many others, because it happens so suddenly and dare I say it, plainly. There's no dramatic build-up or spectacle made and in essence, it just Happens.

I think that's what makes the scene hit even harder. It seemingly comes out of nowhere for Laois, like how it always comes out of nowhere for alot of people, and it's never a dramatic twist either. It's always mundane and hurtful. A sudden unforeseen bump in the road that ends up calling into question one's entire friendship with someone and consequent other friendships. It asks "what if other friends feel the same. What if the people that I really like actually hate me and I don't know it?" Or at least that's what I came away with after reading the chapter. I've been where Laois was and the only reason I'm not there now is because I lost the naivete I had and doubt everyone else's sincerity.

[thekitsunesiren]

Dc x Dp #46

"I'm transferring you all to another branch to focus on your teamwork." Batman announced to the Young Justice League out of nowhere.

The news surprised the whole group. They've been together for quite sometime and had gotten alone just fine. Sure, they had disagreements here and there, but that wasn't enough for them to need more training, was it?

"We've been officially working together for a long time. Why do we need teamwork training now?" Robin asked, being brave enough to talk to the well feared vigilante that many were fearful to speak against.

Batman said nothing as he scrolled through the tablet in hand, obviously searching for something.

"Because you still have problems with your teamwork. You need the help of another team your age to get a better view point of what you're doing wrong. And hopefully you'll be able to learn about the different type of enemies

"Wait, wait, wait! Our age? You mean there's another team that we didn't know about?" Kid Flash asked, the news obviously being a surprise to him.

This news was a surprise to everyone in the group. All of them thought that they were the only young heroes that worked under the Justice League.

Finding what he was looking for, Batman opened a file and the team looked at the large photo that appeared on the screen. The photo contained four teens, just around their age if not older or younger.

One was a black teen with a red beanie, and Robin was surprised to see the bulky tech in his hands that he was using. What kind of outdated tech was this team using?

Next to him was a goth looking girl with raven black hair wearing a black short with a black and green plaid skirt. Her face was concentrated into a stern glare that gave Wally the shivers. The gun that she held in her hand didn't help either.

There was another girl as well. Her black hair down and resting against her shoulders. Said shoulders and the rest of her body covered by a black and red suit with a hoverboard against her feet and another strange weapon in her hand. A gun maybe? Red Arrow was curious to see her aim when moving on that board.

And the last kid wasn't standing. He was floating. With snow white hair and green eyes that seemed to glow everytime they looked at the photo. He looked to be around the same age as the other three, but he wore a black jumpsuit with white boots, gloves, and belt. On his belt rested a thermos? Superboy didn't see how such a scrawny thing could be of any threat.

One thing was similar was that how all of the humans eyes seemed to glow. Almost as bright as the- metas'? Aliens? -did.

"These are the members of Young Justice: Dark. They have been under the Leagues employment for three months, but they've been working on their own for almost two years and managed to stop several world ending disasters dealing with the supernatural."

The statement from Batman shocked the team. Them? On their own for two years fighting against the supernatural? Surely he was joking?!

"But-how? We've never heard of them, and they were world ending, we should've known about it." Robin argued.

"Because they've never left the threats leave their town." Came Batmans clipped reply. "There have been a few close calls, but all of them have been handled. As for why the League wasn't aware, there was interference that stopped the League from knowing about Amity Park. This is the team that took our place."

This was the team? Two years unsupervised against supernatural threats that they didn't know about and they still remained uncovered? Just how strong was this team?

"I'm assigning your next mission to work under them. For the time being they will be your superiors and you will follow their instructions if you come into contact with any enemy. Do not go against their orders or else it will be dire. With this, you will learn about threats stronger than you have faced and better yourselves as a team. Do not mess this up."