#Peanuts! Get Yer Peanuts

[tojisun]

I’m soooooo obsessed with your poolverine! Especially where Logan is fucking reader while Wade watches!

But what if Wade gets so desperate that he cums untouched just humping his rosey leaking cock into the air as he watches Logan fill you round after round

teehee thank you!! and this is so delish oh my goood <33 // cw: SMUT; afab!reader; poly with set power dynamics (dom logan, sub reader n sub wade); voyeurism; praise kink // divider by @/plutism

it’s—

it’s heinous, really, how wolve-fuckin’-rine could just go for hours fucking you, breeding you, while leaving wade leaking like a motherfucker. tearing up too, sure, but he’s still got his mask on so they can all pretend that he isn’t truly crying.

(he’s actually weeping but, well, semantics.)

it started the way it always does.

“stay there, bub,” logan sniped, his grin just a bite too mean, but wade didn’t even fight back because the three of you are used to this back-and-forth; of logan taking you like even after all these years, he still had to stake his claim, while wade was made to wait.

after all, this game is one of a hunt; it starts with wade waiting, raptly watching the way logan devours you, before being allowed the scraps—licking logan’s cum off your cunt, wade’s tongue pushing you to another shaking orgasm.

a hyena that is allowed to feast after the lion had its fill.

but it was different today—logan was more mean. he was more impatient to wade.

logan kept going; fucking his thick fingers in your cunt, crooning how he was doing this for your own good.

“shh, yer not ready for pups yet, darl,” he hummed, a heavy hand pressing down on your stomach to stop your thrashing; holding you down to force his thick fingers in, and scooping out his cum amidst the squelches of your cunt.

you keened, fisting the sheets as tears leaked out of your eyes, wetting your already-damp cheeks.

“s’too much!” you cried, unable to stop your hiccupping. “l’gan, please!”

but logan just nuzzled his maw on the inside of your thighs, puffing out breathy chuckles.

wade was straining then, his grip breaking the wooden arm rests. he ignored the splinters digging into his flesh, unable to do anything that wasn’t watching.

waiting.

he was slowly realizing that he would not have his turn today.

logan has you in a mating press now.

you’ve yelled so many times, warning logan—warning them—that you’re cumming but there was no gushing squirt nor trickling cum, and the two of them realize with hitched breaths that logan’s finally fucked you into dry orgasming.

it was a delicious sight, one that pushed wade to finally free his cock from inside his suit.

logan had shot him a gleeful look, his ravenous eyes tracking down the mess that wade has become—heaving chest, leaking cock, mask finally damp with his tears.

(you’ve glanced at your lover too, devouring how he looks, ever so patiently waiting even when he’s been denied for hours now.

wade always chirps. he’s always filled the silence with his chatter, but he’s been so, so quiet today. like he’s at a loss for words, unable to sound any more that isn’t ragged wheezes. like by staying quiet, he’s able to force himself to not jump you or to not touch his own cock.

fuck, what a good boy wade is.)

“almost, bub,” logan murmurs to wade, humping his cock in you like he’s affirming his own words. the action forces another choked moan out of you, and wade’s cock jumps, pre- dripping down his length.

logan tracks it throughout.

“yeah?” wade finally rasps out, his voice sounding so utterly broken. “y’fuckin’ swear?”

logan rolls his eyes at his words before huffing a fond laugh.

“swear on it,” logan replies, licking at his salty lips.

he pauses, turning his attention back to you. he ruts his cock in, nudging at the pudgy walls of your pussy with a pleasured hiss.

(you’re an unbelievable marvel, peanut. all soft and sweet.

all so delicious.)

amidst your high-pitched squeals, logan shoots wade another glance. he looks even more hungry now, and wade doesn’t get to ask his stuttered ‘what?’ when logan croons, “‘fore that, won’t y’cum for me, pool?”

wade’s body jumps to obey the order, only—

“but no touchin’ yerself.”

the whine wade lets out is so pathetic and broken, but it only makes logan smile wider, like he knows wade would be a good mutt and follow his command—

jesus. thinking about logan praising him just made him ultra-horny.

wade shuffles on his spot without a word, legs parting even wider to make it easier for himself. he’s so busy squirming at the feeling of the cool air wrapping around his cock that he’s missed you and logan changing positions on the bed—you’re riding logan now, your back to his chest, with logan’s chin hooked on your shoulder as the two of you watch wade.

wade curses underneath his breath when he finally looks up, and it tickles a giggle from you. it quickly peters into a high keen when logan fucks you up the length of his cock before dropping you down, using gravity to sit you snug and stuffed full.

fuck.

wade’s bitten moans spill into the hot space between the three of you, and he wonders: between you and wade, who is logan’s prize?

whose keening desperation is logan watching?

wade humps at nothing, unable to stop himself anymore. he times it with logan’s manhandling of your body—thrusting up when logan grasps at the back of your thighs to lift you up from his cock; then pressing back down on the couch when logan drops you back to engulf the entirety of his length.

wade’s not even embarrassed to admit that it doesn’t even take a while before his whole body is locking, pleasure and desperation mixing like a vice to grip at his body.

his orgasm builds—

“cum f’me, wade,” logan sings, sounding so utterly soft like he’s not in control of both you and wade’s pleasures, but wade has always been logan’s good boy. always been desperate for logan. always—

his orgasm rips him apart—that is the only way wade can explain it.

it wracks his body with unimaginable tremors, like wade’s body is undergoing its own earthquake. he nearly blacks out at the pleasure, and it should be embarrassing—it will be, later when logan’s cock is in his throat and your strap is fucking wade’s hold, and the two of you are murmuring how wade is your precious and desperate little cum slut—but right now, he basks in the pleasure and the pride shining in logan’s eyes.

jesus fuck. that was good.

biting a rock bcuz this one rlly had me sweating like mmmmy god

im so sorry if this is bad 😣 wrote this while walkin’ around the mall so it might be choppy n clipped in some parts GAH

wade gets a turn (somewhat)

[merowkittie]

Hiii idk if you are still taking requests but Poolverine has taken over MY LIFE haha I would die for a Logan/Wade/Reader where they just worship their tiny lil mutant gf who could 100% kick their asses if she wanted to

hi hii!! i’m always taking requests, as long as my pinned post says ‘requests are open’!

poolverine has taken over my entire being i fear.

Lil Ass Kicker — DP & WV

summary: due to ur size most of the time sometimes people under estimate how strong you truly are. besides your boyfriends; they like when you remind them <3

warnings: none besides canon typical violence =] !

notes: i didn't specify if reader had specific mutant abilities..maybe i'll come up with a specific one laterr for future fics / hopefully this meets ur expectations, enjoy!

at this point, you didn't get offended when people looked at your stature and thought you were some weak tiny human, when in reality you were just as strong as Logan.. maybe even stronger?

you could kick a grown mans ass in seconds! your boyfriends have witnessed it AND have been on the receiving end before. and lets just say,

they LOVE it.

"ohh, come on peanut!" wade yells from your far left in a somewhat disappointed tone, "I'll admit you look hot but that's just disgusting."

you'll admit this wasn't the prettiest site, even though wade just called you sexy. you were sweaty, kind of covered in blood, and had just broken a mans arm and was using it to make him punch himself in his face. it was very amusing to you until wade burst your bubble.

with a roll of your eyes and the slightest quirk of your lips tugging up in the corners you tossed the man to the side and skipped over to logan who was almost covered in blood completely; his knuckles were basically dyed red from his claws coming in and out and with the blood of half of the people he stabbed..

you guys were an odd trio, but you worked!

"looks like yer having fun, huh?" logan looked down at you with a smirk.

he can also admit that you look beautiful right now sweaty and kicking ass left and right. he'd definitely show you how much he enjoyed witnessing this when you three got home.

you nodded in response to his question humming out an "mhm".

once wade caught up to you two, you guys began to wrap up your mission. it went by in a flash with constant grunts, bodies hitting the floors, gun shots, and to many bones breaking.

yea it was a bit over the top but hey! wade wanted to be a 'good' guy today so this is the schedule! what wasn't on the schedule was watching wade get impaled in the head by his own katana.

logan was too busy fighting to come over and give wade a hand so you had to take matters into your own hands.

silently, you snuck over to where he was and took the guy who impaled your boyfriend by surprise. your elbow reeled forward and hit him in the back the head, causing him to stumble. quickly, your leg swept his feet from under him causing him to trip over his own two feet. right before he fell, you took your gun from it's holster on your thigh and shot him in the head just as he hit the floor.

"oh god, i'm so painfully hard right now, babe." wade's voice chimed in from the floor. he still had the katana sticking through his head and you could tell he was feeling that loopy effect of it right now.

with a sigh, you helped him to his feet and yanked the katana out of his head. he shook his head side to side and groaned at the feeling of it being pulled out.

"thank you my incredibly strong, beautiful, and tiny girlfriend." he made kissy noises from underneath his masks, wanting you to kiss him over it. with a bit of a grimace you stood on your toes and pressed a quick kiss over his lips.

"wha' about me?" logan said from behind you, referencing to the kiss.

with an exaggerated groan and playful stomps of your feet you turned around him and gave him a kiss too.

"I hope you guys know this is very unprofessional!" you shouted as you walked away from the two with a huff.

they were definitely going to show you how in love they were with you when you got home.

[laswells-ashtray]

141 + friends (+ enemies lmao) reactions to stepping on a pet?

John wants to kill himself. He steps on Peanut's little paw? Noose, it's the only option. But before he can do that, he's quick to find where she ran off to and lure her back out, holding her to his chest and offering her a soft scratch behind the ear. "I'm sorry, petal. I'm just a clumsy arse, aren't I?"

Ghost releases the loudest, most self-loathing Mancunian "FUCK." you've ever heard. He knows that it won't truly hurt the cat, he knows the little fucker will get over it and he's done a lot worse to actual people. But that stinky rat bastard is his stinky rat bastard who relies on him to survive, and that makes him feel bad. The cat is offered a lot of Dreamies as a forgiveness bribe.

Gaz immediately thinks, "this is it, I'm going to hell" because he just stepped on his mum's cat's paw and she insists that the cat is his sister, so he'll never hear the end of it if he doesn't apologise sufficiently to her. He does, his mother eventually concedes that the cat forgives him, and they move on, but he never quite gets over the fact that his siblings are as follows: an older sister, a younger brother and an eleven-year-old cat.

Soap spends ten minutes trying to lure his cat out from under a table because his boy is skittish and standing on the wee laddie doesnae fuckin help, does it? "C'mere son, a didnae mean it. Yer awright, ye kin be mad at me oot here just stop hidin." He spends the rest of the day cradling the cat like a toddler.

Nikolain would never step on Peanut's tail because he looks for her in literally every room of the flat when he enters it. That's his babygirl, his other babygirl stepped on Peanut's paw and now he's hiding the rope.

Laswell accidentally steps on Boris' paw, and he isn't happy. He hisses at her. "What did you expect? You will stand under my feet whenever you get the chance... Alright, fine. I'm sorry. don't get huffy with me, your mommy will never forgive me. Sarah's still holding the grudge from when I stepped on Dot's tail."

And because you said enemies, I shall include Makarov.

He steps on his cat's tail and regards it with a blank look when it mrrps at him sadly, only to murmur a quiet "Я извиняюсь." in the cat's direction.

Someone sees it and he plants a bullet between their eyes, as soon as he's far away enough that the noise won't hurt his cat's ears.

[aessedia87]

MDNI, thigh riding, edging.

“That’s no’ when it happened,” John chides, knocking his boyfriend in the shoulder, the man glowering at him from beneath his balaclava.

“Ye numpty, you really don’t remember our first kiss?”

“I remember it just fine,” Simon responds, an exaggerated eye roll as they move down the hallway toward the briefing room, their boots sounding loudly on the linoleum as they walk in sync. “It’s you that seems to be forgetting the first time it happened.”

“Oi, Simon Riley I have the fucking memory of an elephant, ye weapon. Don’t be accusing me.”

Simon scoffs, leaning over to ruffle John's mohawk, the man squawking in protest. “Don’t elephants like peanuts? That’s likely the size of your brain, MacTavish."

John barks in laughter, gripping the man by the lapels of his jacket, Simon grumbling in protest as John steers him into an empty alcove, backing his Lieutenant against the wall. “It was like this, remember? You were right pissed at me —”

“Probably because you did something stupid —”

“Oi!” John complains, smacking the man on the arm. “I don’t remember asking for that decrepit memory of yers.”

"Decrepit?" Simon hums, hands coming out to grab John by the waist, pulling him closer, a hiss through clenched teeth when his Sergeant presses against Simon's slowly hardening cock.

"Oh," John growls, voice low in approval. "Is my Lieutenant getting off at being pushed around?"

"You fucking wish," Simon grumbles in return, and before John can protest, Simon is moving, those lightning fast reflexes pinning John to the wall, a knee shoved between the man's spread thighs. "I'm just reminding you of our first kiss, isn't that right, Johnny?"

"So you do remember?" John rumbles, a low groan as Simon rubs the top of his knee against the seam of John's trousers.

"Not thinking clearly are you, sweet'eart?" Simon murmurs, gripping the man's hand to pin it against the wall. "And since your mouthy little ass had so much to say, we are going to go to this meeting and you are going to behave."

John licks his lips. "That's all then? I got off easy."

"Oh no, sweet'eart," Simon purrs, lifting up the bottom of his balaclava, lips the barest touch against John's own. "You're not going to get off at all."

John whines, a breathy plea, a rock of his hips, cock hard against Simon's thigh. "Simon —"

"Like I said," Simon murmurs, a thumb pressing down against John's lower lip. "You are going to fucking behave. And then after this meeting, I am going to take you back to my room and fuck you, do you understand me?"

A thick swallow. "Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Sir," John pants, Simon pressing his knee forward, the friction against John's cock causing his head to spin. "That's my good fucking boy." Another rock of Simon's thigh, John feeling that low heat simmer in his stomach, already so fucking close.

"You want to come, don't you sweet thing?" John nods his head, fingers gripping tightly to Simon's jacket, sweat beading on his brow. "Please, sir."

Simon leans down, the sharp press of teeth at John's ear. "So fucking pretty when you beg." Another rock, and John lets out a low moan, spine arching off the wall —

"I see you didn't quite hear me, did you?" Simon removes his thigh, John damn near crying out, Simon licking the sound from John's parted lips.

"I didn't give you permission, did I?"

"And when," John pants, cock pulsating with need. "Do I get permission, sir?"

"Mm," Simon murmurs, a thumb swiping away the wetness that's pooled in the corner of John's eyes from Simon's blatant denial. "When you remember how our first kiss *really* went down, you forgetful little twat."

______________________________

Simon edging Johnny three times in a row later that night because they *did* share their first sober kiss against a wall. But Simon was talking about their REAL first kiss, and that's when they were both sloshed together and playing UNO. Can't say Simon isn't romantic. ;)

[hainethehero]

Protective Logan

I just love the idea of Logan being secretly insanely protective over Wade, especially when he's not close by or within earshot. Like, think about it.

Wade & Logan are recruited to help out SHIELD with a [insert villain of the month here] and some SHIELD guys keep making fun of Wade when he says, "man, I wish I could be an Avenger someday. Even for a day." And the SHIELD guys just outright keep taunting him about it like, "Yeah right, Wilson. Your goofy ass is never gonna be an Avenger. You're too unhinged and definitely too ugly to be one. The newspapers and Stark Industries PR won't find you marketable or pretty enough to put on a front cover, let alone be on the team."

And Wade just laughs along with them, secretly hurt by their words but hell, he's always done it to himself, what difference does it make when other people do it? It's not like they're wrong. He knows he's hard to look at. He knows he could never be shiny and brand-new like an Avenger. So he chuckles at their digs and hurtful remarks and jokes- that's what he has a mask for, right?

And Logan, who's been silently observing everything from his corner, remains stoic and unbothered. Until it's time to leave when the mission is over.

"Hey Peanut, ya coming?" Wade calls, exiting the jet. Logan just grunts that he'll be right down and lets Wade go. The minute he's out of range, Logan rounds on the entire SHIELD team, unsheathing his claws menacingly.

"Yer lucky Wade's as good as he is because he's the only reason why your entire team hasn't been sliced to pieces right now. If you ever cross my path again, I'll flay every last one of ya, and watch ya squirmin on the ground lookin for yer guts like worms. Yer all fuckin useless, pathetic excuses for heroes and not even a million o' ya, would be worth one a' him. The Avengers couldn't hold a damn candle to him."

He sheathes his claws and leaves the SHIELD team shaking in their stupid boots, varying looks of terror on their faces.

"Hey, what took you so long? I wanna go get milkshakes!" Wade pouts, somehow managing to look absolutely adorable despite being covered by his bloodstained suit.

And Logan just shrugs, all nonchalant and lightly amused. "Nothin' bub. Let's go get ya those milkshakes."

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

"Hey—would ya wanna—" Daryl broke off as he crossed the threshold of your room. "Uhh—What's goin' on?" he asked.

You looked up at him from the flat of your back. "Oh. Uhh... Do you have ever moments where you're struck by how terrible your upbringing was?"

He gave you a sympathetic but concerned look. "Mmm. Mhm. Is that why yer layin' on the floor eatin' expired peanut butter with a spoon?"

You sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment. "Yeah..." you said softly.

Daryl knelt down beside you.

"What're you doing?" you asked.

He continued until he was laying down beside you on his back. He glanced over at you. "Shouldn't be doin' this alone," he said. "So, I'll stay here with ya until yer ready to get up."

You couldn't help the tears in your eyes and you gave him a fond, grateful smile. "Thanks."

"No need."

Prompt: "Do you have ever moments where you're struck by how terrible your upbringing was?"

[silverflowers14]

So I was thinking about how the x-men would react to the new logan and it went like this in my brain:

Wade walks out of the bathroom and hears a continuous knocking at the door, he looks to logan who's siting on the couch not really paying attention to what was on the tv and then back at the door "so, uh peanut how long has the knocking been going on" "bout 10 minutes" logan didn't really look to interested in the conversation so Wade walked to the door and opens it and come face to face with scott, jean, and storm and before Wade can speak scott butts in "we're here cause we heard logan was here and we got curious" fast forward a bit and now they're saying how they know thats their logan and their bringing him back with them, something Wade just laughs at confusing them, "that can't possibly be true" to which scott replys in a really condescending tone "really how so?" "How tall was your logan?" "Six two why?" Wade turn slightly into the room "Lolo!" A beat and then a gruff "WHAT" sounded through the house "commere" another beat and then they here a very annoyed "I'M BUSY." Wade responds with a very sassy "do-ing WHAT?" "LOUNGING" "B-S! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!" there's a moment of this uneasy silence and then a "Ugh. FfffInnne." Wade makes a delighted squealing sound and the after a bit of shuffling there's logan but not quite. "you see my logan is a hefty five foot three." They could practically here the smile Wade then bends down ruffling logans hair and saying in a baby voice "isn't that right. Who's my favorite vertically challenged wolvie" logan some how frowning harder growls out a "keep doing that and I throw yer ass out the window" Wade turn to the three x-men who just look bewildered and shocked jaw droped shocked.

Anyway that's the gist of it sorry bout the grammar not really good at that but feel free to use my idea fer somethin. I like the though of short logan and tall Wade think it fun and great for cuddling.

[dixons-sunshine]

hi! i love your writing! parent daryl is a huge comfort for me, could you do daryl has a teenage kid and is comforting them during a panic attack/nightmare/something else along those lines?

Night Terrors | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

*GIF isn't mine.*

Summary: The day your daughter was born, Daryl swore that he'd always be there for her, no matter what. That included soothing her from her night terrors whenever they kept her from sleeping.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Commonwealth (Daryl doesn't leave.)

Warnings: Fear of abandonment, nightmares.

Word count: 1k

A/n: Back at it again with another Dad!Daryl fic, and this idea was so cute. I didn't use Hazel as a name this time because I didn't want it to become repetitive for y'all. Let me know if I should switch up the names or keep going with Hazel. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests, as well as Scud Frohmeyer requests.

—

“Dad? Daddy?”

At the sound of the small, timid voice calling out to him, Daryl slowly opened his eyes and blinked the sleep away. He sat up slightly and looked to his side, where he saw his daughter staring at him, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Peanut? Wha's wrong? Wha' happened?” Daryl questioned, sitting up in the bed and giving his daughter his full attention.

Bailey looked at him tearfully, hugging herself with her arms. She ducked her head and looked at the ground, embarrassment flooding her body. “Nothing. I just...”

Daryl frowned and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, careful not to shake it too much and wake you up. “It ain't nothin'. Talk to me, Peanut. Wha's wrong?”

“I had a nightmare,” Bailey whispered, sniffling slightly as fresh tears started to trickle down her face.

Daryl's face softened instantly. He quietly got up from the bed and gently ushered Bailey out of the room with him, closing the door behind him before walking into her room with her.

“C'mon, lay down,” Daryl softly urged her. When Bailey obliged, Daryl grabbed the covers and tucked her in, sitting down next to her. He brought his hand up to gently brush her hair out of her face. “Talk to me. Wha' was the nightmare 'bout?”

Bailey hesitated for a moment, wiping the tears from her eyes. “It's stupid,” she mumbled, casting her gaze away from her father.

Daryl frowned and shook his head. “Ain't stupid if it makes ya upset.”

Bailey's teary eyes met his again, and she inhaled sharply before letting out a sigh. “Please don't ever leave. You or Mom. Please.”

Daryl's frown deepened. “Of course we won't leave. Where's this comin' from?”

“My dream,” Bailey started with a whisper. “You and Mom... You didn't love me anymore. Said you never wanted me in the first place. The two of you left me.”

Daryl instantly leaned forward to embrace Bailey. She wrapped her arms around him and cried into his shoulder, soaking his shirt with her tears, but he didn't mind.

“Yer mama and I ain't goin' nowhere,” Daryl reassured his daughter, placing a soft kiss against her temple. “We love ya so much. Ain't nothin' ever gon' change tha'. The day yer mama found out she was pregnant with ya was the best day of both our lives. Yer mama was so happy, and I was too. We're still very happy. Ya are the best thing tha's happened to us. Dun' ever believe otherwise, alrigh'?”

Bailey nodded against his shoulder, sniffling quietly as she pulled back. She settled back into her bed, turning over on her side, still facing Daryl. “I'm sorry I woke you.”

“Dun' need to apologise,” Daryl assured her, gently caressing her head. “Now try and get some sleep, alrigh'? Yer mama and I will be here in the mornin'.”

Bailey nodded and closed her eyes, visibly relaxing under her father's touch. It didn't take long for her to start drifting off again, her father's reassurance and comforting touch lulling her back into slumber. “I love you, Daddy,” Bailey mumbled before drifting off, her breathing evening out.

Daryl smiled and placed one final kiss against her temple. “I love ya more, Peanut.”

Quietly, Daryl slipped from Bailey's room and made his way back into his shared room with yours. Once inside with the door closed behind him, Daryl was surprised to note that you were sitting up, clearly wide awake and not just arising from your slumber.

“Wha' are ya doin' up?” Daryl asked curiously, going back over to his side of the bed and climbing back under the covers.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you countered, moving to lay down on his chest when he beckoned you closer.

“Bailey had a nightmare,” Daryl explained, running his fingers up and down along your spine. “I tucked her back into bed.”

“Oh,” you whispered, frowning slightly at the revelation that your daughter had a nightmare. “Is she okay?”

Daryl nodded. “She'll be alrigh'. Jus' scared we'll leave her. Tha' was her nightmare. I dun' know where tha' fear came from.”

“It's been a recurring nightmare for a while now,” you started. “It got better when we originally came here, but I guess it must be kicking up again.”

“She's been havin' this nightmare fer a while?” Daryl inquired with a frown. “Why dun' I know 'bout this?”

“Because she hid it from me for a while. I only know about it because it got too bad for her to handle on her own and she woke me up one night, too.”

“But why would she think we'd ever leave her?” Daryl asked.

“Because people leave all the time. She's scared that we'll see her as a nuisance, as a burden, someone who isn't worth sticking around for. She's just like you were back when we first got together,” you explained, placing a kiss on his clothed chest. “But we'll just have to show her how much we love her. That we aren't leaving her, ever. Just like I had to do with you.”

Daryl hummed. “S'true. We'll love her so much, she'll get sick of us.”

“I love you so much. Does that mean you're sick of me?” you asked playfully.

Daryl chuckled, placing a kiss against your forehead. “Sick of ya?” he began. “Never.”

[starlightseer]

Since it's father's day, I figured I would post a really short one shot I wrote awhile ago about Archie and Maxie with their daughter.

Title: First Word Summary: Archie and Maxie are competing to see what their daughter's first word will be; Papa or Dada. Archie is determined to win.

“Come on, Astrid,” cooed Archie as he bounced a small, giggling, red headed baby on his lap. “Say Papa. We gotta beat yer daddy, okay?”

The infant merely giggled in response as she pulled on his apron. Archie laughed along as he pulled her in for a few quick kisses on her chubby cheeks, earning louder, shriller giggles from Astrid. Her joy was infectious and her smile could brighten even the darkest days.

“Ya gotta say Papa,” Archie explained as he leaned back against the couch. “I spend all day with ya while yer daddy runs off to work, so ya owe me! Do you understand, lil scamp?”

Astrid babbled a response as she continued to tug on her father’s apron again.

“So ya think ya can get out of it by bein’ cute, huh,” Archie chuckled. He playfully poked his daughter’s tiny nose, earning another bought of giggles from the tiny girl. She had inherited his boisterous laugh. He could already tell. “I have to admit, ya make a compellin’ argument. I don’t suppose I could stay mad at a cute face like that.”

The baby cooed happily in response as she leaned forward until she was lying against her father’s chest. Then she began chewing on the fabric of his apron.

“And now yer tryin’ to eat yer Papa? Whatever will I do?" Archie asked, feigning distress as he wrapped his arms around the tiny child. He peppered her forehead with more kisses, earning more shrill titters from her.

Archie chuckled, feeling his heart melting with the love he felt for his daughter. As determined as he was to win his bet with Maxie, Archie would just be happy to be there to hear her first words. Just like he was there to see her sit up on her own or when she crawled for the first time. Those were very special moments that Archie thought back on fondly. It was a shame that Maxie was at work and had to miss those moments.

That line of thought made Archie take pause. He remembered telling Maxie about Astrid learning to crawl and the brief sadness on his face before the excitement took hold. It must have been hard to hear that he had missed milestone after milestone while he was away.

Maybe he should slow down in trying to get Astrid to say her first word. Maybe Maxie deserved to at least be here for it.

“Why don’t we take a little break from tryin’ to get ya to talk?" Archie asked, sitting upright with Astrid still held close to his chest. He glanced up at the clock and smiled. “Looks like it’s lunch time. Let’s get you somethin’ to eat, kiddo.”

With the babbling baby in tow, Archie strolled on into the kitchen. Once there, he sat Astrid in her highchair and buckled her in. When she whined at being put down, Archie rustled her red hair before turning to get her a meal ready. As he browsed his options, Astrid continued to whine from her highchair.

“Just hang on, lil scamp, Papa has to get ya somethin to eat,” said Archie, glancing back over his shoulder at his daughter briefly. “How about a lil p-b-j?”

Astrid kicked her little feet against the highchair as she reached for Archie and squealed, “Pa-pa!”

Archie froze, a jar of peanut butter in hand. Turning slowly, Archie locked eyes with his infant daughter. A mix of elation and regret bubbled within him, a smile pulling at his lips despite the mismatched emotions. Setting the jar down, Archie turned fully towards his daughter and hurried over to her. He quickly unfastened her from her chair and scooped her up. Holding little Astrid in his arms, Archie kissed her cheek as he swayed in celebration with his child.

“Oh, Astrid, ya really know how to pull yer old man’s heartstrings,” Archie said before kissing her one more time. Then he raised her over his head and smiled at her. “We cannot tell yer daddy that ya had yer first word. It’s gotta stay between you and me, okay? I’m serious here. Promise me ya won’t tell him.”

She cooed in response, happily kicking her legs as her father continued to hold her over his head. Satisfied with her answer, Archie brought her back down and gave her another hug.

“Good. It’ll be between just the two of us… But I need ya to promise to say Papa again so that yer daddy can hear it, okay? Do we have a deal?”

♡♡♡♡♡♡

“Archie, I’m home,” called Maxie from the entrance of their home.

Archie perked up at that, glancing over his shoulder briefly before scooping Astrid up from her playpen and resting her on his hip. Archie strolled out of the nursery and out to the living room where Maxie was already waiting for them. He smiled and greeted them with open arms. Archie closed the distance, wrapping one arm around his husband. Maxie returned the embrace before giving Archie a quick kiss.

Astrid squirmed excitedly against Archie’s side, reaching for Maxie with a huge grin on her face. She was always excited to see him when he came home from work. And Maxie was always excited to see her.

“Come here, Princess,” Maxie cooed as Archie handed him their daughter. He kissed her chubby cheek as she grabbed fistfuls of his maroon sweater and squealed happily. “Oh, did you miss Dada? I missed you too!”

Archie folded his arms over his chest and smiled at the display. Maxie was as determined as he was to win the bet. It was cute. Though it was a shame that, even with him and Astrid keeping her very first word a secret, that he was going to lose this one. It was only a matter of time before Astrid called out to him again.

“Yer never going to win,” Archie gloated. “She’s going to say Papa and you know it!”

Maxie smirked back at Archie with a raised brow. “So confident! But I think you’ll find that she will say Dada first and I will be the victor.”

“Psh,” Archie scoffed with a wave of his hand. “She spends all day with me, Max. So don’t act too disappointed when she says Papa, okay?”

“The same goes to you,” Maxie said, turning his nose up at the assertion. After a moment, Maxie turned his attention back to his daughter and smiled softly. “I know you’re a daddy’s girl, my little ruby princess. I know your first word will be Dada. Isn’t that right?”

When Astrid babbled in response, Maxie looked back to Archie with that same confident smirk. “See? She agrees with me.”

“We’ll see about that,” Archie said, rolling his eyes with a grin still plastered on his face. He laughed, then extended his hands towards their daughter. “Alright, lil scamp, come to Papa. It’s daddy’s turn to make dinner tonight.”

Maxie sighed as he handed Astrid over to Archie. He smiled at her as he rustled her hair before turning to leave. Archie watched as Astrid reached for Maxie, kicking her little legs and whining for him not to go. She really was a daddy’s girl.

“Oh, daddy isn’t going anywhere, Astrid,” Archie soothed as he held her out in front of him. “Besides, you got Papa!” When Astrid proved to be less than receptive to Archie’s reasoning, Archie sighed and brought her back against his chest. “Why don’t we go watch daddy cook then? Hm?”

Without waiting for a response from his tiny daughter, Archie carried her off towards the kitchen. Once they passed through the threshold and Astrid saw Maxie, she continued to reach towards him. She babbled as he washed his hands, demanding he come and hold her.

Archie chuckled as he watched the display, but before he could say anything to try to calm their daughter, she cried out, “DA-DA!”

His eyes widened as he looked between Astrid and Maxie, who had stopped in his tracks with a towel in hand and a look of elated shock on his face. Maxie threw the kitchen towel down onto the counter and hurried over to Archie. He took Astrid and held her over his head.

“That’s right. Dada,” Maxie cheered triumphantly as Astrid tittered happily. He brought her down and kissed her cheek again. “I knew you’d call for me first, my little princess.”

All the while, Archie watched in disbelief as Maxie celebrated with Astrid. He was at a loss for words. He and Astrid had a deal! She was supposed to say Papa so that Archie still won their little bet. Now Maxie would never let him forget that Astrid’s first word was 'Dada'. Even though it wasn’t true.

But Archie pushed those thoughts back as he watched Maxie wipe a single tear from his eye. He supposed there were worse fates.

“Looks like ya beat me, Max,” Archie sighed, a soft smile on his face.

“Yeah. Looks like it,” Maxie said, returning the smile in kind. “It’s okay. I’m sure she’ll say Papa too in no time. Don’t worry.”

Archie laughed at that. “I won’t, Max. I won’t.”

[norman-fucking-reedus]

More GirlDaddy Daryl cause the love I have for him is actually not funny

I thought of a name a longgg time ago for his daughter that I think is super cute, It was gonna be Darylina but then I thought how Daryl would hate that THEN I thought how DARYL would make CAROL the grandma so obviously Carolina is the perfect name

She’d be called Lina for short, Carol as a joke and Carolina when shes in buttfuck trouble (which teenege Lina gets into a lot of but shes her mothers child)

I feel like she’d be a total badass, a good balance between Daryl badass and Y/n badass. She’s a hardcore daddys girl so by age ten she was already mastering the Dixon way of hunting.

“Ya got light steps naturally, let’s keep em tha’ way kiddo”

“Okay daddy!”

Lina would be more like Daryl as a kid, and I feel like Daryl was a rowdy kid.

She practically bounces off the walls from the assigned hours of too early in the morning to too late in the evening. Getting jumped on before he gets out of bed wasn’t exactly on Daryl’s bucket list (but he wouldn’t have it any other way)

Yes, she constantly climbs onto her father like a cat. No, there’s nothing he can do to get her squealing giggling frame off him. His only option is to accept his fate and play 21 questions directly over his shoulder.

“Lina! M’working, get offa me”

“Wha’cha workin’ on?”

“Stuff”

“Wha kinda stuff?”

“Adult stuff”

“Wha kinda adult stuff?”

Daryl uses her whenever he works on his bike, and his massive fingers can’t fit to reach something. She feels very important when her tiny fingers reach it, and she lets Daryl know how very useless he is.

“Daddy yer not gonna be able to fight if ya can’t fit yer fingers in stuff”

“Really? Damn. Good thing yer gonna protect me”

“No daddy, yer have to protect yerself because m’gon go protect mommy”

“Tha’s good idea, mommy can’t protect herself”

“But mommy can fit her fingers in stuff”

“Then why ya protectin’ her ‘nd not me?”

“Because I like mommy”

“I like mommy more”

Oh maybe I should mention they bicker over EVERYTHING. And guess who has to be the tiebreaker?

“Babe! Tell this rat tha peanut butter is indefinitely better than tha jelly!”

“Daryl she doesn’t even know either of those are and everyone knows jelly over butter”

“See mommy is always right!”

“Are ya cheatin’ one me??”

There’s a very strong love-hate relationship between him and teenage Lina, especially when hormones start to change and tempers flare.

Once again, Lina is a mini Daryl and Y/n, so when she shoots back during arguments, she’s aiming for the head.

“For tha last time, no. Too dangerous and m’not gon be able ta keep an eye on ya. End of discussion, quit pushin it”

“M’not a fucking kid anymore. I didn’t want ya keepin’ a damn eye on me in tha first place?!”

“Gettin real ballsy there little girl, I said wha’ I said”

“Ballsy? Little? Clearly I got more balls than ya since yer too fuckin’ scared to take me”

“Carolina. Wherever this is comin’ from, cut it the fuck out.”

“I’m gonna cut you the fuck out.”

“Scuse me?“

“Good luck on the battlefield when ya can’t even fuckin’ hear”

After every hard slam of her door, Daryl is left to stand in the deafening silence feeling like an utter failure.

Obviously, he gives her the time to decompress before going to apologize, this time with his crossbow in hand.

The door creaks slightly open before all the way, however there’s no little girl that comes running out into his arms. She stands tall in front of him, mirroring his expression of anxious discomfort.

“Ya stay close, no matter what. Understand?”

“Okay”

Daryl hands her the crossbow.

“Look- I know yer not a kid, but yer still my kid. Yer gon always be m’little girl an yer growin’ up scares tha livin’ shit out of me”

“Ya’ve killed people.. isn’t tha’ scary?”

“Wha’s scary tha’ if I didn’t kill ‘em they might’ve killed ya”

Lina hugs him tearfully.

“M’sorry fer arguin’ with ya”

“Nah, m’sorry fer not givin’ ya a chance”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

(Daryl’s inner child definitely gets healed each time after apologizing and talking it out. He breathes so much better and just feels so much better AUGH my baby)

[yi3248]

what’s your favorite roach headcanon?

hi anon!! sorry it took so long. your ask came in just as i decided to rewatch mw2 gameplay to refresh my memory so it took a While, but its finally here! it's a bit messy. feel free to ask if there's something specific you want an opinion of :D

i subscribe to the headcanon that he is selectively mute

was found hiding in a closet, somehow chilling with a cockroach in there

on another note, he finds the closet to be a comfortable place to be in, when everything gets too much. a makeshift barrier from everything

likes smooth peanut butter

when he was in primary school, while dropping him off, his mom got fed up with his nonverbal responses. parked near the gates, wants to know why he was being so difficult

(it wasnt on purpose. he wasnt trying to be difficult. he felt so exposed, through the windows, like other students could just know why he was locked in there, why they were taking too long to simply drop off someone)

hates tomatoes

likes the sweet kind of chili sauce

wears whatever graphic tees at his disposal when on leave

does dress up once in a while though, but like, for wildly mundane occasions

i want to say he has slightly bad vision (near-sighted) but its corrected with his goggles. doesnt wear the goggles on base, when hes not in immediate battle

either skips leg days, or hes the type who has difficulty building strength in his lower limbs

still trying to reason out why he failed 2 jumps lmao. since he was able to shake his pursuers in hornet’s nest, his running and jumping muscles should also be adequate. maybe as mactavish’s journal says, his gear was weighing him down (dear god, there was a lot of parallels mactavish drew in btwn him and roach)

likes snow. likes any snow activities. doesnt like how it freezes him though

probably hid in the toilet when there was a fire drill evacuation practice at school

roach and mactavish wouldve spend some time in the same room, quietly jotting out their thoughts on the mission in their respective journals

or even lets their frustration shine through. about their lack of ability to be better, to be more efficient (this was a common theme in mactavish’s journal. regrets and aftermaths)

a steady hand forces him to stop engraving his regrets deeply into a page. eyes snap up, mouth ready to follow along until he meets roach’s heavy gaze. he huffs, the exhaled air carrying some of his tension away, the shroud of distress slowly dissipates, but it lingers

he has his own team, and the burden, the need to watch them get through to the other end all safe and sound is so juxtaposed in their career. it is inevitable, but he can still try. they can be better, stronger, less chances to be picked off

he shakes his head, patting roach’s arm. “what? yer want to take a gander at my words?” he tuts, closes his journal with a snap, a wry smirk on his face. “go put that curiousity to proper work.” he ushers roach to the training area, ignoring roach’s pointed look of distaste

(dimly, he wonders if he will follow in price’s footsteps. if roach will assimilate some of his habits to remember him, in some sort of way. we’re all amalgamations of all the people we have met, naturally)

((as he yells into the comms for an answer that never comes, he doesnt have a chance to find out))

hates the water on base. it tastes different

somehow enjoys playing the mobile ads games more than the actual game

[tojisun]

cw: smut (mxm-centric at first); mentioned pegging; poly!!; i fucked up the canon but it is what it is; this is just smthn short and super rambly :(( // divider by @/plutism

poolverine fucking in the odyssey, but they (mostly wade) keep taunting each other by name-dropping you because before this, before anything, you are the only unifying connection they both have—you are a friendly coworker of wade’s, and you are the only one with enough patience to listen to logan’s drunken musings.

you are the only thing they want to come home to. wherever home that would be.

(wade wants to protect you; logan wants a reality where he makes things right. somewhere along the way, this mission found its centre piece and it’s always you.)

it starts with wade. he’d been quiet for all the three seconds that he’s gobbling up all of logan’s cock, before he tips his head up with a manic giggle. it would have exposed the column of his neck if it wasn’t for his mask, and logan’s gums itch with the need to bury his teeth on wade’s skin; he wants ro dig them enough that they’d tear through, and leave a long-lasting mark to get him and wade by.

he twitches, muscles rippling as he prepares to pull him close, but then wade rasps out, “peanut wouldn’t believe ‘er eyes if she’d been here.”

it punches the air out from logan’s lungs and he snarls, blood jumping at the reminder of his failure because it is, otherwise you would be here by his side right now.

“shut yer mouth.”

wade hums, unperturbed, and raises his hips just enough to drag logan’s cock out, before fucking back down on it. it makes logan hiss, pleasure blinding him, and wade moans in tandem.

logan enjoys only a handful of blissful moments—wade is warm and perfect on top of him—until wade begins to babble mindlessly again.

“but she’d—ah!—love to hear this,” wade trills, sounding so giddy. “she’d be so excited—hn!—to know we’re gettin’ along!”

“she won’t know,” logan snaps, threatening. “because you won’t tell.”

(tthey both know that the anger and the growling are just a front because logan has been so unbelievably gentle with wade ever since their last duel. his touch is ever so conscious now as he holds onto wade’s waist, and he rubs soothing nothings on whatever patch of skin he can reach with his thumbs.

wade is—

wade is the one good thing in logan’s life right now; the closest one he can hold and protect because you’re somewhere he can’t reach. wade is the reminder that there is something worth fighting for, worth living for, and so he holds him like the gift he is.

he lo—

he cares for wade, which is why being soft to him comes easy.)

wade lets out another manic giggle, and presses close to nuzzle the muzzle of his mask on logan’s chin.

“but don’t you want to me to show her how you fucked me? maybe we can even recreate it before you fuck her because this—” wade clenches around logan’s cock, “will ruin her pussy. let me prepare her for you, huh?”

logan doesn’t reply—he doesn’t think he can, not with wade’s words swirling in his mind. the thought of wade teaching you how to please logan; of wade fucking you wet and loose for logan; of wade breaking you in for logan has him moaning, his own restraint snapping as his pleasure bloats.

he fucks up, matching wade’s bounces, and wade trills a breathy laugh, the sound of it curling into a drawn-out moan.

“oh, so you liked ‘at, huh?” wade purrs. “‘cause i did too.”

.

logan leans back to his seat, his cock twitching underneath his pants in interest because this? this is better than he’d imagined. he knows it’s better than what wade was expecting too, if the whimpered groans of his pleasure were to be used as points of reference.

“you ready for me, baby?” you croon as you rut the length of your strap against wade’s cock—the size differences comical, especially as it has wade stuttering in apprehension.

“uh,” wade says, blinking at you owlishly. “yeah?”

you hum, endeared. “good boy.”

logan watches, his throat parched, as you begin to fuck wade. it is hot, truly, but guess he’d have to break you in himself, huh bubsy?

[transformersandturtles]

HI SO LIKE, THIS FIC WAS MEANT TO COME OUT IN LIKE. JANUARY. AND IT SAT FOR FOREVER UNTIL RECENTLY. Only the first half of the oneshot was beta read, past the *** was not so uh. Enjoy! Forgive any spelling errors or grammatical errors. ❤💛

Word count - 6,687

CW : Mentions of drugs, alcohol, lot of swearing, it's poolverine what do you expect. Little bit of horny Wade too. :)

a few other things; canon typical violence, fluff, first kiss, established relationship, flashback, self indulgent/head canons, and "they were roommates".

Kiss Kiss, Fall in Love!

"Hey, Peanut!" Wade hummed as he came up behind Logan, kissing his fuzzy cheek before yawning. It was pretty early in the morning, at least for Logan it was. Though the man kept to a schedule, he wasn't an early riser on his days off. He let out a low grumble of a greeting, waiting for the crappy coffee maker to finish brewing so he could get his morning dose of caffeine. Logan didn't always drink coffee, he'd prefer beer or whiskey but Wade was helping him cut back. Plus he couldn't go to work with booze in his system, even if it didn't affect him like it would a normal person. He wasn't trying to lose income, since he and Wade were looking for a better apartment to live in. . . But it's New York, how better could it get without sending them into crippling debt?

Sometimes Logan missed the free stay at Xavier's, along with just existing in nature at his old cabin and just living without the need to think of anything besides survival in a pack of wild animals that were always eager to take him in as one of their own.

"Mor'n, Bub. . ." Logan eventually muttered out, feeling the other Canadian's arms wrapped loosely around his waist, along with a mild pressure on his upper trapezius. It was odd for Logan to think they've been living together for a little over a year. A year since all that crazy multiverse shit happened. The Void. The Educated Wish. Some nights, when his nightmares were really bad, he swore it was all a dream and was doomed to be miserable in his home universe. The 'Worst Wolverine' as he was called by that snobby TVA guy. His name had slipped Logan's mind a long while ago, but he couldn't care less about that asshole. He had a nice life here with Wade, despite the chaos and oddness, and drugs, but it was a nice little home he found himself comfortable in.

Home.

Home. . .

Logan hadn't felt like anything belonged like home ever since his X-Men. Everything was just a void to him, an empty space, and some days those thoughts really got to him. But no matter how snappy he got, Wade always seemed to understand and knew what to do to help him. And he appreciated it, though he rarely voiced his appreciation out loud. Not because he hated Wade, but because he knew he never needed to say something for Wade to understand just how much his presence could make Logan feel like he wasn't suffocating.

"Watcha thinkin' about?" Wade hummed, pressing his scarred skin against Logan's neck. It was enough to get the older Canadian out of his thoughts, to zone back in on reality and not get lost in his head again.

"Hm? Ah, nothin' special. . . Just thinkin'." Logan brushed it off, grabbing his favorite coffee mug from its usual spot. He contemplated mixing some bourbon into his coffee. Or moonshine, whichever was closer. . . Okay look, he's TRYING to cut back, but a little bit wouldn't hurt too much, right?

"Uh huh. . . Suuuuure." Wade teased, wearing that big bright grin that made Logan feel weak in the knees at times. Wade's hands traveled from Logan's waist to his hips, before one oh so not sneakily slid to the old man's buttocks. As Wade gave it a firm squeeze, there were already sharp claws digging right into the side of his head. It was definitely a turn on, at least for Wade. His mind always went numb, but maybe that's because he had literal holes stabbed into his brain that healed once the metal was pulled out.

"It's too early for 'yer horny ass, Mouth. . ." Logan scoffed, retracting his claws from Wade's skull and shaking the blood off as his claws went back into his arm. Wade couldn't help but nuzzle his face further into the mutant's neck as he gave a big, dramatic whine of mock sadness, though it sounded more like a needy moan than anything. Shocker.

"Aww, Wolvie. . ! It's never too early to be entwined." He purred, licking a specific spot on Logan's neck which made him almost drop his favorite mug; it was something Wade found and gave him as a gift a while back and though Logan would never admit it aloud to anyone else while he was alive, he cherished this stupid cup with his life. It was a white ceramic cylinder with a picture of a crab smoking a cigarette with the words 'Life is Relentless' on it. It was so fucking stupid, but Logan loved it BECAUSE it was so fucking stupid. . . And also because it was a gift from the idiot behind him so he'd be damned if he broke it. Honestly, he'd probably be in shambles if it ever did break.

"Wade!" Logan huffed out in a warning tone, though as much as he loved Wade, sometimes being too touchy too early in the morning did not feel nice. It was usually an on and off thing, some days he would most definitely drag Wade back into bed and have him going until noon, other times he didn't want to be touched in the slightest unless it was soft cuddling. Today was more of a cuddling morning than a horny-mating morning.

Wade stopped with a small pout, but he got the hint quickly. He understood that today was not a horny morning and as much of a flirty and touchy man Wade was, he knew better than to push Logan's boundaries. He didn't want to break that trust they'd spent so long building.

"Sorry. . ." He gave an awkward grin, moving his hands away from Logan's ass and hip, not wanting to anger his short honey badger further. But Logan was having none of that. Just because he didn't want to be touched or teased like that first thing in the morning didn't mean he didn't want physical attention. Logan grabbed Wade and pulled him back to his side, his muscular arm wrapped around Wade's neck in something similar to a headlock.

"I appreciate you apologizing, but it ain't necessarily Wade. . And don't go walkin' off unless I tell ya to fuck off, got it?" Logan scoffed, eyes fixed on the taller man he currently had bent over in an awkward position because of the odd one armed headlock. He wasn't exactly the type to be verbally loving, at least not all the time. He'd say his soft ”I love you's” in the privacy of their bedroom, like sweet little nothings that Wade could hear when it was just quiet enough. Logan's love language mostly consisted of insulting his lover, and the occasional fighting that left a lot of blood and pitched tents ready to burst. He knew not to be over the top aggressive about it unless Wade wanted him to be. They were both. . . Odd like that. Horny freaks of nature that were too wound up about each other sometimes. And poor Althea had to deal with their bullshit every day.

"You two better not be fucking in the kitchen again." The old woman scoffed as she made her way into the kitchen to get some coffee, carefully finding her way with the wall and her cane. Logan scoffed once again, drinking his coffee without waiting for it to cool off. The beverage tasted. . . Alright at best, but it's not like he's out buying the freshest, best kind of coffee there is on the shelves. Most of the time, he and Wade wait for it to go on clearance. Saves money. Logan doesn't bother to put milk or creamer or sugar in it. Or whatever else Wade and Althea put in their drinks that isn't exactly legal to own. But he ain't a snitch, though the scent does irritate his nose pretty often. Wade found it cute when Logan scrunched his nose up whenever he smelled the infamous powdered snow. Or anything else the two liked to have laying around in the open. Okay well not in the open, cause it would be awful if Mary Puppins got into any of the stuff, but sometimes it gave Logan a killer headache due to his sensitive sense of smell.

"Nah, we ain't. Wade's just being touchy. . ." Logan assured, leaning against the kitchen counter with Wade still wrapped in a loose headlock next to him, which Wade seemed to have no plan of escaping anytime soon. The scarred man had big puppy eyes as he looked at Logan, enamoured with the love of his life as he wrapped his arms around Logan's upper torso, mostly to get close to the feel of those big, fuzzy honkers under the white tank top that had blood stains and small tears in it, along with his baggy grey sweatpants that had a few red stains on it, and another stain lower down that wouldn't be discussed.

Logan hadn't gotten out of his PJs, but neither had Wade; sporting a red-pink t-shirt with a certain white cat with a bow and her name underneath, stained in his own blood with a few stab holes at his sides to avoid ruining the design on the front, and black PJ shorts that were definitely not made for his ass and thighs but he wore them for the sole purpose of enticing Logan to him more. It rarely worked, however. But dammit, he was confident and looked good no matter what anyone said. And Logan did absolutely love those shorts, but he knew if he ever did give in when Wade wore them, those things would be torn to shreds.

"Well stop being touchy, dammit. It's too early for your horny asses to be banging so soon. It's not even 8 A.M., dammit! The walls in this place are paper thin, I hope you fucking know that." Althea huffed in annoyance, grabbing her own mug that was always kept in the same spot by the coffee maker, pouring herself a cup before carefully fixing up her coffee with some creamer, sugar, and something else that made Logan's sensitive nose wrinkle like always, almost like he was about to sneeze. He didn't, but it sure damn felt like it and he didn't like it. No one likes being on the edge of a sneeze and then it never happens but it makes the air they breathe feel spicy for a moment.

"We ain't doin' nothin, Al." Logan assured her once again as he shook his head, finishing his coffee before he let go of Wade to rinse out his cup and set it back in its regular spot with all the other odd mugs that they owned.

"Yet!" Wade teased, giving a playful wink as he stuck his tongue out at Logan. Logan rolled his eyes, shaking his head once more in mild amusement. No matter how many times he punched, bit, or stabbed this idiot, he'd never learn. But Logan likes that about him, he supposed. Wade was a very, very odd man. And the older mutant felt damn good knowing that the moron was his and his alone.

"I may be blind, but goddammit I wish I were deaf too. Nasty motherfuckers. . ." Al grumbled, grabbing her mug and carefully making her way to the dining table, spilling her drink on the floor a little in the process but she was completely unbothered by it. The coffee stains on the tile showed it was a common occurrence, hardly cleaned up because honestly this place was already a mess. "Get a goddamn room." She muttered as she sat down at the table, setting her cane to lean against it, shuffling her feet a bit until her shoes ever so slightly tapped Mary Puppins on accident who had passed the fuck out, snoring and making her weird little noises.

"We have a room!" Wade snickered a bit, keeping close to his short loved one. "It just so happens to also be your room, Roomie!" He had a big shit eating grin on his face, arms still wrapped around Logan's chest. The poor woman could never catch a break with this man, it was a miracle she wasn't dead yet.

"God, just take me out already. . ." Al muttered monotonously, sipping her coffee she had definitely laced with something or other that probably shouldn't be paired with caffeine. Honestly, how the hell was she still alive? Wade believed either immunity to everything, or some fucked up immortality like him and Logan but not as cool. Just immunity to bullshit and wackass drug usage.

"Not happening, you sweet old hag." Wade chuckled, eventually letting go of Logan to mess with Al a bit. He leaned against the table, the conversation getting lost to Logan as he got lost in his own thoughts once again.

God, how the fuck did he get here? From nothing to. . . Well, something? It didn't seem fair at times. Logan was stupidly infatuated with this idiot, it was probably pathetic. But the cute kind of pathetic, if that's a thing. . . Okay, maybe not cute pathetic. He was enamored by this fool, God's perfect idiot. Sure, they still fought and got on each other's nerves, mostly Wade getting on Logan's nerves but sometimes if Wade was having a really, really bad day, it was everyone's problem and everyone should fear that. Lord knows Logan had a level of fear towards the Merc. Not a force to be trifled with when pissed off. Wade was an idiot, but he was stubborn as fuck and Logan found that out the hard way. That's why he's fucking here! The Canadian desperately wanted to save his friends, and he ended up saving not just them but also the whole universe from being destroyed by a wack job bald bitch who seriously had way too many issues. Logan could still feel her fingers in his skull sometimes, and it made the man shiver.

"Hey, Strawberry Shortcake," Wade tried to get Logan's attention. That sure was one hell of a nickname. Almost cost Wade his head with the sharp glare he got from Logan as a warning. A glint in those intense, yet gorgeous, blue eyes that showed he was ready to stab that idiotic fool, and if looks could kill then Wade would be buried six feet under, dead or alive. Because, y'know, the whole kinda sorta fucked up immortality that keeps him in a constant state of dying ‘cause his cells are constantly dying and regenerating in possibly the worst way ever, so if he was buried 'dead' it would not last long. Wade had feared death once, and that was enough to definitely make him feel very uncomfortable at the idea of being buried alive.

"C'mon, I'm bored." Wade gave a playful whine while he gently tugged on the bloody tank top to get Logan to come with him. His grasp eventually moved down to Logan's hand, intertwining their fingers together. Wade was always amused by the small differences between them, and god did he love how his hand fit with Logan's. His fingers were slim and scarred like the rest of his body where Logan's were round and rough, calloused from years and years of war and work. Despite the roughness, Wade found them very soft, like the rest of the Wolverine's body.

"Call me that again and I'll rip out your goddamn spine." Logan warned in a threatening tone, trudging towards wherever Wade decided to lead him in the small, crappy apartment. The threat was empty, honestly. There was no way to kill this guy, at least not that he knew of. But he couldn't care less right now about ACTUALLY killing his boyfriend, one of the few people who could put up with his bullshit and vice versa. Following where Wade was taking him, Logan's slippers lightly shuffled against the busted hardwood floor.

Wade had gotten him these silly slippers, they looked like big fluffy monster feet; a soft fuzzy grey faux fur with cheap faux leather, maybe some kind of plastic, claws on the toes. At first he hated them, thought they were ridiculous and kept them tucked away, but eventually he gave them a shot and actually found them nice. They were really soft on his sore feet. He felt kind of silly wearing them sometimes, but no one was around to see him with them besides Wade so he didn't give a fuck at this point about it. He was comfortable, and happy. Vulnerable, even, something he'd struggled with for a long while. Plus, it made Wade happy to see him wearing the dumb things so it was a win-win for both, he supposed. Wade had his own pair of slippers too, which also happened to be a gift from Logan. According to the mutant, he had seen them and just grabbed them without thinking when he went shopping once. The slippers matched the cat on Wade's shirt; most of the slipper was a soft pink color and at the part that covered the toes was the same white cat sporting a pastel pink bow. The fabric was a plush polyester compared to Logan's fuzzy ones.

Trudging through the apartment, the scarred man had led Logan to the couch, plopped down, and pulled the 300 or so pounds of adamantium, muscles, and fat onto his body. Logan released a grunt, alarmed by the pull and was almost concerned when he practically crushed Wade underneath his weight. But the other didn't complain, just pulled Logan closer and buried his face into the brunet's messy, greying hair. Logan found himself slowly relaxing, letting all his weight rest into Wade like a weighted blanket. The younger Canadian had the biggest grin on his face, he always loved to cuddle with his Logie Bear. Logan didn't mind it too much, feeling Wade's face against his hair while one hand was on his lower back and the other traced the slight bump of his shoulder blade. It was enough to make him content, releasing a soft, low rumble; almost like a cat purr as he closed his eyes. Wade's smile only grew, humming and nuzzling and kissing the old man.

"I love you, Lo." Wade hummed, dozing off a little as his hand that was on Logan's shoulder blade moved up to the right side of Logan's face, scratching at his fuzzy sideburn.

"Love ya too, Bub. . ." Logan murmured ever so slightly, the left side of his face nestled between Wade's pecs. It didn't take long for the two to pass out on the couch, with Mary Puppins eventually leaving her spot at the table with Althea to join in to lay on her Papa and Logan's intertwined legs.

* * *

"Well, would you look at that?" Logan opened his eyes after getting some blood in them, listening to the sound of Wade's voice as both were dressed in their suits and covered in an ungodly amount of blood. It was a messy hit that Wade had been hired to handle, and though he knew it would be easy for him to get the target and go on his merry way, he wanted Logan to tag along and show his new roommate what his mercenary work was like; graphic, lots of dick jokes on Wade's end, fast paced while also taking a long ass time because of how Wade liked to drag out some of his killings and toy with his hits, and the list goes on. But the entire time they've been stabbing, throwing, and punching, something had been on Logan's mind. Mostly to find a way to get Wade to shut the fuck up and focus instead of flirting with every guy and gal that came at them like idiots with wooden bats or switchblades in their hands.

He knew it was just Wade being Wade, but something in him felt. . . Odd about it. He wasn't sure if jealousy was the right word, since Wade flirted with him all the time. But not having the attention focused solely on him, even if Logan tended to push Wade away a lot to avoid said attention? It irked him in a way he couldn't quite describe.

He was brought out of his thoughts by someone trying to sneak up on him not-so-sneakily, in which he reached around, skewered the man straight through the chest and stomach with his claws, and threw him over his head and onto the messed up concrete floor of the warehouse, causing it to crack with a splatter from the now deceased man.

"Fuck's sake," Logan scoffed, shaking the blood off his claws after pulling them out of the man while Wade used his inner elbow to clean the blood from his katana. Both their suits were messed up, mostly from getting shot at by some idiot who thought that firing at them was such a wonderful idea. Logan trudged over, huffing as they both looked around, waiting to see if anyone else would come out. Wade had a visible grin under his scarlet mask, his cheeks visibly lifted under the fabric as he turned to look at Logan with a hum.

"I think we got them all, yeah?” Wade hummed, looking across the ground at all the different dead bodies that the duo just made dead. About a dozen goons or so, he isn't sure since some were torn into pieces or had been thrown so hard they'd become part mush. "But we still haven't got the guy." He groaned out, his big smile now a dramatic frown beneath the cloth. "Awe man, I really want to get paid today." He whined dramatically, using his katana to poke one of the bodies in front of him. Yeah, they were absolutely dead. Hell, the guy had his head missing and Wade had no idea where it was. He sighed melodramatically, shoulders slumped before putting the katana in its sheath on his back. Logan rolled his eyes at his exaggerated displeasure, his nose soon twitching a bit under his cowl. He was sniffing around, hoping that maybe amongst the smell of the dead there was something else. Someone else. Literally anything else besides the smell of iron.

“Oh, you got something Wolvie?” Wade chipped up, moving over to lean against the mutant. Logan growled, but didn't push Wade away. Though soon enough, he caught the smell of cheap cologne, sweat, and the bitterness of fear. Hiding. A smirk graced his lips and he grabbed Wade by the shoulder.

"Found him." He gruffed, pointing to one of the crates by the corner. Wade's eyes lit up under the white eye parts of his mask.

"Oh, aren't you just the perfect hound dog!" He grabbed Logan's cheeks and squished them. "Good boy!" He teased happily, before running over with the subtlety of an excited toddler as he grabbed both his katanas from the sheath on his back. As pissed off as Logan was, that comment definitely made him feel. . . Something. He'd only felt this way with very few people, and it didn't take much guessing on his part to realize what he was feeling towards Wade.

"I'm in love with a fucking moron. . ." His voice was soft, laced with realization and dread. But also something else. Adoration? He didn't know, really. It was an odd feeling. And maybe that was alright. He could hide it. Maybe. . .

Oh who the fuck was he kidding? If he didn't say something then he'd be smitten as hell for the man currently holding his target up like a kebab on the adamantium blades.

After the mission was declared a success and Wade got his pay for the hit, the two went to get dinner at a cheap Chinese restaurant, getting their food to-go in takeout containers and a plastic bag to just go sit at a park a few blocks away from the apartment they shared. Nothing romantic, just two immortal roommates eating with the sunset just barely out of view due to the skyline of the tall buildings. They still had their suits on, but wore jackets and baggy sweatpants to cover up their blood soaked clothes. Wade ignored the hateful glares of mothers walking with their children for whatever reason, covering their eyes to avoid the sight of the big purple words that read 'Cunt' on the black hoodie he had on, where as Logan had on a plain brown jacket zipped up, reminiscent of the one he used to wear all the time when he got shitfaced at the bar back in his world. He never knew what happened to the original, probably thrown and left on the floor when he was dragged off by the idiot beside him. What an asshole move, really. But it was water under the bridge, or whatever.

Wade had his mask partly pulled up, covering his eyes and the rest of his head, but left his mouth and nose exposed. He hummed while chowing down on some lukewarm chow mein, lips slightly glossed from the sauce that coated the noodles.

Logan was just pushing around the chicken in his container, though he was hungry, just something in him wouldn't sit right. Like his stomach was light and full of butterflies, as cliche as it sounded. Honestly, it was more nauseating than it was whimsical. He didn't hate the feeling, but he didn't like it either. He brought the plastic fork to his lips, sharp canines biting into the piece of chicken and vegetable he had gotten on it and subconsciously chewed on it. So caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear Wade call his name until he felt an elbow to the gut. He grunted, nearly choking on the food in his mouth as he growled, swallowing it down before coughing. His light eyes immediately glared at Wade, teeth bared at the other man in a front of annoyance.

"The fuck was that for?!" He barked, elbowing Wade in return who winced a little before laughing at the irritated man.

"Hah! I really thought you were ignoring me there, Lo!" He had that big grin on his face, the one that made Logan feel weird and tingly inside. He rolled his eyes, shaking his head.

"You're insufferable." Logan bit out bitterly, but there was no real heat to it as he looked back at the takeout containers in his roughed up, calloused hands. Wade's smile faltered, eyeing the older mutant for a few moments before leaning on his shoulder.

"What's got your dick in a twist, Shortcake?" Wade's tone was lighter, but still playful. Logan just scoffed at him, poking at the food again in an attempt to not punch the scarred man.

"Nothin'." Logan lied between his teeth, avoiding talking about his feelings like usual. Wade was the one to scoff at him this time, his smile now quirked in a slight grimace.

"Bullshit." He called out, poking Logan on the tip of his nose. Logan's nose immediately scrunched up at the action, frowning as he glared at Wade for seeing right through him. Perceptive bastard. When did he get good at reading people? Logan kept his mouth shut though, eventually letting a small, reluctant sigh escape him.

"It's nothin' that concerns you, Bub. Now get the fuck off me." He pulled his shoulder away, making Wade whine a bit as his torso nearly fell over from Logan suddenly jerking away.

"Rude." The younger Canadian stuck his tongue out at Logan in a childish manner, and almost instinctively, Logan almost immediately nipped towards Wade's tongue, an audible click coming from his teeth hitting together as they just barely missed Wade's tongue, which made the younger move back in surprise. "Woah! Easy there, Honey Badger!" The light hearted teasing continued as he sat there, laughing off the slightly awkward tension between them.

Logan hadn't processed what he'd done until Wade pulled away and Logan ended up looking off somewhere else, his appetite long gone now that he's made a fool of himself. He was sure he'd get sick if he forced himself to take another bite of the food he'd gotten. Not that it was bad, but because he just didn't feel right. He shoved the fork into the container and tossed it into the plastic bag the food had been taken in. He sighed, leaning back on the park bench to look at the sky with his hands moving to the pockets of his jacket. It was a nice mix of oranges, purples, and blues, nothing special but still nice enough to look at past the clouds that littered the view. Though he did have to account for the light pollution that muddied the skies too. Made him think about the clear skies he used to get out in the woods, missing it more than anything really. He wondered if the sights were the same here as they were in his universe, but he knew he couldn't just leave to the Canadian wilderness without a word like he used to. Not after what happened the last time he left, even if it was only to go to the bar that night, a part of him couldn't fathom thinking what would happen.

"Seriously, what's got you? You've been like this since the mission." Wade leaned over, putting his elbow on Logan's shoulder. "Hell, you've actually been like this all week!" He pointed out, poking Logan in the chest accusatorily. "So spill," it was rare to see Wade this serious, and when he was it was best to just give in or he'd find a way to make someone speak. With a reluctant groan, and another pull away from Wade, Logan figured he'd give in.

"Alright, fucks sake. . ." Logan growled out, still trying to keep the tough act up but really he felt like he was going to explode. Where's the booze when you need it? He sat up a bit, facing Wade as his cheeks got a little warm. He was sure he looked like a fool, blushing while Wade was still shoving food into his face, waiting for an answer as to why his roomie was acting so weird lately.

"You're a fucking moron, you know that?" Logan started off with a matter-of-factly tone, it was typical for him to be rough around the edges, but his voice was a little lighter. . . Kind of. With a sigh, he continued before Wade could even defend himself from the insult. "But. . . I guess you're my fucking moron. . ." He was never good at the feelings thing, or at least vocalizing those feelings into words. It just wasn't his thing. Sure, he's been in relationships before, but actually bringing it up or confessing was a totally different thing out of his zone. He waited, that weird feeling bubbling in his stomach again as Wade just stared at him through the eyes of his mask, mid chew, frozen as he processed what was said to him. Wade wasn't sure if it was a confession, or some weird territorial thing that wolverines did. But seeing as Logan's face got redder, the younger man realized that he was probably dead serious. Who knew that the strong, scary, smelly Wolverine was so bad at being verbally open about something so common as love?

"I'm YOUR moron?" He tried to clarify, wanting to make sure he heard that right, unable to hold back the big shit-eating grin on his face after he'd finished the bite in his mouth. He laughed, not at Logan, but because it just wasn't something he had expected out of the blue on a random Tuesday evening who swore up and down that he hated Wade's guts. Logan growled, pushing at Wade when he heard him laugh. This was great, just great. Way to go, idiot!

"Shut up!" He scoffed out, glaring at Wade, ready to skewer his head with his claws but he stopped himself, for now at least. His claws were itching to slash though, the skin on his knuckles ever so slightly protruding, permanent scars right where the metal constantly poked through over and over daily. Wade waved his arms in surrender, trying not to spill his food as he snorted at just how angry Logan appeared because of his laughter.

"Sorry, sorry!" Wade grinned widely like a fool once more, humming lightly. "But it's pretty funny seeing you get all worked up, y'know?" It was light hearted, but it didn't make it any less embarrassing for Logan. He rolled his eyes once more, waiting for Wade to actually say something about his poor attempt at a confession other than laughing at him like a fool.

"Shut the fuck up, Wade." He growled out, crossing his arms over his chest, awaiting his rejection. He thought that Wade was still trying with Vanessa, trying to fix what they had and work on getting better together again, so he was expecting Wade to tell him off for admitting such a stupid thing. Hell, Logan had been the one to encourage Wade to talk to Vanessa more. And yet here he was, trying to be open for once and be a walking contradiction of a wingman. He sighed heavily, his gaze going back up to the sky as he frowned, awaiting the inevitable so he could just get up and leave. Maybe that'll be a good idea, to get away and just. Never bother again, even if the thought ate away at him in the most negative way possible. But he's sure that, even as the last two people alive on earth at some point in the far, far, far future, he would have no chance. But who was to say that would ever happen?

"Aww, Wolvie. . ." Wade's tone was still light and playful, trying to get a smile from the old man but it didn't work at all, so Wade realized that he had to be a little more serious to get his attention. "Logan." He reached for the brunet's shoulder, but stopped and instead reached to grab his face. Grabbing his scruffy chin, Wade turned Logan to look at him, making eye contact with him even if his own eyes were covered by the mask he wore.

"Are you serious?"

Logan was caught off guard by the question, eyes glued to the half covered, scarred face in front of him.

"Yes."

Logan spoke gruffly, his expression a little less intense as the two men sat there, the park lights starting to flicker on as night grew closer "I'm dead serious." He confirmed, and it didn't take long for Wade to have his big shit-eating grin once again.

"Well, you have such a way with words," he teased, poking his nose once again which made Logan's nose scrunch once more. He scoffed at the action, one hand grabbing Wade's to pull it aside, but Wade was quick to orient his hand in a way so he could hold Logan's, gliding his thumb across the scarred knuckles he loved so much. Where those fancy steak knives loved to pop out and stab anyone who was on the wrong side of them. The two just sat there quietly, eyes locked together as Logan almost melted into the soft affection. Wade leaned in, kissing Logan's cheek, which made the older man grumble a bit. Not anger, not hostility, but not in contentment either.

"You missed. . ." He growled softly, which caught Wade by surprise. He missed? How? Before Wade could get a word out, mouth open to rebuttal, Logan had grabbed Wade by the back of the head and pulled him forward, eyes closed and locking lips almost immediately, the sweet and spicy taste of Chinese takeout lingering on both their lips. For once, Wade didn't know what to do. He didn't hate it, didn't pull away, but he didn't have anything snarky or crazy to do. He just sat with Logan practically chewing off his lower lip with those sharp canines of his, causing a bit of blood to mix with their passionate display of affection. Thank god Wade had a hoodie on, or else the tent in his pants would be way more visible than it already is. Giving in to whatever Logan wanted, Wade couldn't help the small sound that escaped him, and eventually the moment was broken when they had to pull away to breathe, blood and saliva attaching their lips by a messy string before Logan licked his lips, almost like how an animal would clean their jowls after eating a messy meal. The two breathed out softly, almost panting as their eye contact remained firm and steady.

"That. . . Was so hot. . ." Wade grinned, almost swooning for the man before him. And to be fair, he had been swooning over Logan ever since they'd met. Sure, his focus had been on Vanessa for a long while, trying to fix what they had, and as much as he loved her, it was clear that the feelings weren't being reciprocated as much as they used to be.

Wade didn't want to come off as too needy or too clingy, he knew he was high maintenance, but Vanessa couldn't keep up with that. He knew he couldn't always be demanding, and that he had needs that couldn't always be met, he also had to focus on her and meet her needs. But even then, no matter how much he tried to, he couldn't keep up. He found himself lacking where others could step up.

He'd been lying every time Logan asked him about his relationship with Vanessa, how they were doing great when in reality they couldn't see eye to eye. He was trying, still trying to be the absolute best he could for her. He saved the world for her, even. He wanted to matter, and he had. He mattered in a way that had gone by him so easily. He did matter to others around him, and yet he was blind to the fact that he mattered a lot to Logan. They both meant a lot to each other, and yet they'd been blind to how they felt for months now. Logan didn't believe in love at first sight, or if he did that feeling was long gone. It hadn't been that way in so long, but he found himself nearly attached at the hip with Wade after being given a chance to be a hero again.

"Yeah?" Logan couldn't help but snort at that comment, his normally stern face had lightened, soft with a gentle smile like how he had when they'd first saved the world together. "I think you're a freak, honestly." There was no bitterness, no harshness, it was meant to be teasing. And though normally Wade wouldn't care for such a term, he couldn't help but snicker, leaning in playfully.

"Yeah?" He raised a brow ridge, nuzzling into the scruffy facial hair that Logan had. "Well, maybe I like being a freak with you." He playfully bit at the skin on Logan’s fuzzy cheek, making Logan growl ever so slightly.

"Alright, watch it," he didn't exactly like getting bitten, at least not on the face. Moving his head, he snagged Wade's bottom lip with his canines once more, pricking the skin again which made Wade let out a startled sound of amusement. He knew better than to pull away. Grabbing a handful of Logan's messy brown-grey hair, he pulled the older man on top of him, completely disregarding the bag of now forgotten food, 300 pounds of adamantium ass now propped on Wade's lap as the two Canadians were making out. Though, it looked more like Logan mauling Wade with the amount of blood gushing from the messy, heated kiss between the two of them and Logan having to shift the way he sat because of what was pressing against his thighs.

As the sky darkened and the stars were hidden in the sky, Wade and Logan stayed at the park for a long while, probably being the only two left there as they enjoyed their moment together under the shitty, flickering lights of the open park.

---

Mug Reference -

[stupidvillainousposts]

Y'all know how sometimes dogs will see or hear something they don't really understand and then start barking at it like that'll make it stop confusing them?

Yeah, I think we all know where this is going

Stan: *Sees a Fairy Hovering in Front of the Window*

Also Stan: *Small Woof*

Fairy: *Waves Happily*

Stan: *Slightly Louder Woof*

Fairy: *Giggles and Makes a Heart With Her Hands*

Stan: *Near Uncontrollable Barking*

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

Dipper, trying to get some peanut butter out of a Kong toy: *Yipping With Frustration*

Fidds: Mason, hon, barkin' won't get the peanut butter out. Ya gotta let it melt a bit.

Dipper: *Continues Barking at the Kong*

Fidds: *Sighs* Yer as bad as yer Papa Stan.

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

Mabel: *Laying Upside Down on the Couch*

TV Salesman, unnecessarily loud: HAVE YOU EVER WONDERED WHERE ACORNS GET THEIR MILK?!?!?!?

Mabel: *Barks in Shock and Frustration*

Ford: Ah, I probably should have turned that down.

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

Fidds: It's nice t' be able t' eat t'gether as a family. Been too long since that's happened.

Ford: Yeah, it's nice to finally be able to-

Tate, knocking on the door: Dad? Can I talk to you for a second?

Stan: NO! WE'RE HAVING FAMILY DINNER!

Mabel, wanting to spur Stan on: YEAH! *Starts Barking for the Hell of it*

Stan and Dipper: *Join in*

Fidds: I s'pose even family dinners can be frustratin'.

Ford: I am very close to suggesting we neuter him.

[butchi3-s-blog]

Have any tips to create gory effects, champ?

“I definitely do! Lemme think.. Oh yeah. Yknow, I know a real good fake blood recipe. If ya need an actor to eat some sort of fake blood, here's what I got for ya. this is for two gallons of fake blood:

12 cups light corn syrup (3 32 oz bottles, sumthin' like that...)

8 cups chocolate syrup

6 cups strawberry syrup (for flavor n' color)

2 cups water

1 ½ cups creamy peanut butter (just to add some thicknesses, yknow? You can ignore this one if ya want though)

5 second smooth pour of liquid red food coloring

20 drops liquid blue food coloring (gotta get the color correct!)

3 cups non-toxic washable children’s poster paint (classic red)

Only bring in the paint if ya want some sorta stainin' (and if you ain't eatin' too much... But it ain't necessary. Use it if you want. Don't eat too much.) You can do the math if you want a smaller batch of blood though.

Next tip I got for ya is goin' to yer local butcher and just askin' em for any bad meat they're bout to throw away. This one is a little more risky, but I promise ya it's pretty worth it if ya ask me. If you need some fake intestines for sumthin? Ask yer local butcher. See if they're bout to throw any away. Listen, it's gonna fuckin' stick, but anythin' for the shot, huh?

The last tip I can think a right now is uh... Hmm.. Oh shit, makeup. Listen, cuts and bruises are easier then ya think. Ya want a nice bruise? Purple, black, n blow eyeshadow. Add some red if ya want. If you want some cuts though? One of the easiest way to do this is just with some glue, makeup, n fake blood. Put the glue over ya hands, cut the glue piece ya want to be the wound, color the outside of the wound wit makeup, and put some fake blood on the inside. Works like a charm. Very cheap though. But, if ya feelin' fancy, use some latex or any sorta modeling dough. Put it next to the scare so it can give it depth, yknow? Color it to match the skin, use some eyeshadow, fake blood and ya golden!

Welp, that's all I got for now unfortunately. Good luck. ”

[skeletboi]

Part 16 of the Intridimensional au!

First /// Previous /// Next

___________________

Fiddleford, what the hell is that thing?” Stan asked, motioning to the memory gun.

“I- this? It's… nothing. Don't worry ‘bout it Stanley.” Fiddleford responded.

Stan took a cautious step forward, feeling a bit like he was approaching a hurt puppy more than a human being.

“It sure as hell doesn't look like nothing.” he said trying to get a better look at the gun.

“Really, Stan doncha worry ‘bout it. It's jus’ an invention I done whipped up to help me deal with some them spookems Ford an’ I are always runnin’ into.”

“Deal with? That can't be a good thing. If it's not a big deal, then just tell me what it does.”

“Well… well it jus' erases some bad mem'ries is all.” Fiddleford said, looking away and attempting to hide the gun behind his back.

“It does what?!” Stan asked, taking a step forward and reaching for the gun. “Fidds there is no way that's safe!”

“It's fine, Stanley, doncha try an’ take this from me! Ya don’ know what I've seen in this town! I love yer brother, but he's messin’ with somethin’ serious. I don’ know where he's gettin’ all these ideas from- but it's dangerous. I- I can't-” Fiddleford practically yelled, backing away.

“I've seen shit, too, and I've been there- but this sure as hell isn't the way, Fidds. Give me the gun.” Stan said back, trying his best to be gentle, but tripping over his own peg leg as he took another step closer and sending them both to the ground.

“No. I need it, Stanley, ya don’ understand!” Fiddleford yelled, pushing Stan off of him and scrambling to his feet.

Stan tried to get up, but stopped as Fiddleford aimed the gun at him.

“Fidds.” He said carefully. “You don't want to do this.”

“I'm sorry, Stan. I don’ want to, but I need this.” Fiddeford said, his hand trembling, tears streaming down his face.

“I’m sorry, too.” Stan said, pushing the gun away with one hand and grabbing a book from the floor with the other.

He leaned up on his good leg and hit Fiddleford across the face with the book as the gun skidded across the floor. Fiddleford collapsed onto the ground and Stan grimaced.

“I really am sorry, Fidds.” Stan said, struggling to his feet.

He grabbed a pillow from the bed and put it under Fidd's head, checking to make sure there was no blood from the hit, and turned him so he was laying on his side. He looked to the gun on the floor and frowned, his sadness turning to anger as he thought of Ford's careless dismissal of Fiddleford's anxiety.

He grabbed the gun as he left the room, grief warring with anger as he carefully made his way through the cluttered hall. He knew Ford had walked this way to go back to his lab, but Stan had no idea where this lab was.

He glanced down at the gun in his hand, then paused when he got a glimpse at the floor below him. There were muddy shoe prints leading down the hall. He slid the gun into his inner coat pocket and followed the trail around the corner until it dead ended at a bookshelf.

“You have gotta be shittin’ me, Sixer.” Stan mumbled.

He ran a finger over the bookshelf, glancing over the dry titles until he came across one he recognized.

“The Siblings Brothers. That's a bit obvious.” He said as he pulled the book from the shelf.

The shelf clicked and creaked. Stan opened it, and probably would have been impressed by the elevator hidden behind it if he wasn't too busy being angry. He looked to the keypad next to the door and nearly laughed. It was just like the one on the old vending machine down by the dock when they were growing up. He didn't even have to think about it, he input the code for jelly beans and toffee peanuts, and the elevator door dinged open.

The elevator automatically opened on the third floor and Stan stepped out, following the hallway down until it opened into a vast room that had to be at least double the size of the house itself.

“Holy shit.” he said aloud.

“Fiddleford! I need you to check the pressure gaug-” Ford started, but stopped when he got a look at Stan.

“You should work on your security, Sixer.” Stan said.

“Stanley! What the hell are you doing down here?! And where is Fiddleford?!” Ford asked.

“I'm here to talk to you about this.” Stan said, taking the memory gun from his inner coat pocket and holding it up for Ford to see.

Ford's eyes widened in recognition, and, to Stan's surprise, horror.

“Where did you get that?!” Ford asked, his voice laced with fear.

“You do know about it! And you just let him use it on himself?! I was under the impression that you cared about him, Ford!” Stan yelled, his anger returning in full force.

“No, Stan, I- He told me he destroyed it! I never would have let it go on if I had known!” Ford yelled back, sounding more panicked than angry.

“You knew he was anxious, Ford! Did you think he just magically got over his anxiety?!” Stan yelled.

“No, no- I- well, I don't quite recall…” Ford said, looking down at his feet.

“You don't fucking-” Stan paused, the realization dawning as he looked at his brother's frowning face.

“I'm sorry, Stanford…” Stan heard from behind him.

Stan and Ford both turned at the voice and saw Fiddleford standing at the end of the hall, a hand to his head.

“Fiddleford, what did you do?” Ford asked, the panic in his voice turning to anger.

“I didn't have ‘nother choice, Stanford. You wouldn't listen to me! I still don't understand where you're gettin’ all these ideas! I couldn't get rid of the gun- I- I needed it.” Fiddleford said, his voice rising in panic with each word.

“So you used that machine on me?! All I have is my brain, Fiddleford! How dare you use that on me!” Ford yelled back.

“I know, Ford. I'm sorry. I jus’- well I jus’...” Fiddleford stuttered.

“You just what?! Wanted to ruin this for me?! Everything I've worked for! Who cares where the idea came from?!”

“I care, Ford! I know you're smart- I've always known that! But this is somethin’ else!”

“This again?! Why can't you just listen to me! This is my life's work, Fiddleford! This is the final step in proving myself! Don't you get that?!"

“You have everythin' ya need ta prove yerself in those journals a' yers!” Fiddleford yelled back, tears running down his cheeks. “You're so obsessed with proving yerself that you don' even see how dangerous this damn portal is!”

Stan looked from Fiddleford to Ford and frowned.

“Wait, did you say portal?! What the fuck does that mean?!” he asked.

“Nothing, Stanley! Just stay out of this!” Ford yelled.

“Nothing?! This is obviously something! Goddammit, you two are mad scientists, aren't you?! Why didn't I see that sooner?!” Stan yelled back.

“Hey now, that ain't nice a ya, Stanley!” Fiddleford said. “We ain't crazy! We jus’ get a bit caught up in our projects!”

“You tried to erase my mind with that crazy gun of yours ten minutes ago!” Stan responded, nonplussed.

“Yeah, well- you hit me with a book!”

“Of course I did! You were-” Stan started, but stopped when Ford started to laugh.

“Well, well, well.” Ford said, his voice echoing oddly in the large room.

____________

I did not have time to proofread. My bad.

*edit: I went back and half proofread. It needed some help frfr.

Also sorry about leaving y'all on a cliffhanger, then not posting for another day. Have another cliffhanger, as an apology.