#but that's basically what these two have always been and I think that is kind of part of what makes WoW so charming

[pomefioredove]

may I request headcanons of the overblot boys + Adeuce reaction to a younger yuu that tells them that they’re like a big brother to them? Platonic obviously—

thank you!

awww ofc!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ brotherly (again!)

type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, ace, deuce, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, short

Having been torn from your home, separated from your family and friends, and spit back out in a new place with new people, isn't really as fun as it sounds.

After months at NRC, though, you've managed to make yourself a life here. A new home, new friends, even new family.

Now, sitting close to the person you've become fondest of, you let slip that you seem him as a brother.

His reaction?

I am of the (kind of depressing) opinion that Riddle's life would be much better if he had a sibling. he hasn't really thought about it, per se, but he's always had this feeling...

so, when you tell him as much, he just... 🥺🥺 you know?

he's in protective brother mode from this moment on (for better or worse, lol)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

the bond you have with Ace and Deuce has gone unspoken, but all of you know what it is. you saying it, though, makes it all the more real

as warm and tender of a moment as it is, Ace still feels the need to make a joke about how sappy you're being (affectionately, of course), and Deuce can only hum with excitement at the acceptance and warmth between the three of you

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

admittedly, Leona is a little... put off. at least, he is at first. he doesn't exactly have a great relationship with his own brother, and with no other examples to go off of, it feels kind of like an insult

he... gets what you mean, though

and, reluctant as he is to be so vulnerable, he'll say you're just as much of an annoying little sibling to him

lovingly, of course

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Azul had friends before you... kind of... but none as near and dear to him. he could never quite explain what this feeling was until you said it

ah... that's it. family. he almost feels embarrassed, being so vulnerable all of a sudden, and he can barely get out that he feels the same way

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Jamil has younger siblings already, and he could tell the two of you were forming a similar bond before you said as much. he'd caught himself treating you just how he treats his sister on multiple different occasions (for better or worse, lol), and...

he's glad that you're here with him. that's all he'll say... for now

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

many people would think you'd have to hit your head to say something like that to the Vil Schoenheit

he's untouchable! he's godlike! he's... lol. just kidding. he's quite fond of you, too, and hearing those words come from you is better than any amount of likes, any award or role. you're his favorite person, after all

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

dude, are you trying to make Idia cry??? because he will! and then he'll bubble-wrap you and Ortho so you can never go anywhere or get hurt ever

he... has some things to work through. obviously. but, really, he and Ortho have basically adopted you already, so hearing you say it... in a good way... call him cringe, but he could get a little emotional over that

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

you think of Malleus as your brother? then you must also think of Silver the same way. and Sebek... would you be interested in adoption, because Lilia-

yeah. you get it. welcome to the family, lol. Malleus has already decided you're his best friend forever and ever, and hearing you call him family... hohhh that overblot is going to hit hard when you guys get there

[artist-issues]

you're fun to talk to about media so I've got something to ask.

what do you think of this trope where a lie or misconception becomes commonly accepted as truth by the characters in story? especially as a resolution.

example: in the finale of "Kubo and the two strings", the Moon King(main villain) loses his memory, so when he asks who he is, the townspeople lie to him and say he was a kind member of the community, rather than the dictator he really was.

I don't like it. I see a falsehood being widely accepted as a tragedy, and I'm just left imagining what happens if/when the characters find out the truth. I can't really take something as a happy ending when it's.. y'know, fake. I imagine you feel similarly.

but hey, I could have totally missed the point of the ending of KATTS, if you watched it, you might have seen something I didn't.

I haven’t seen Kubo in a really long time; I don’t think I was thinking critically about it the first time I watched it, so my opinion now is an afterthought. I’d have to see it again to be fair!

…But I do seem to remember that the villain is defeated with some importance placed on memory. And the identity of the monkey and that beetle warrior also have to do with the sacredness of memories. So, if that’s the case, then yeah, taking his memory away as a “good resolution” can kind of hamstring the whole theme of the movie. Unless you tilt your head and squint and go, “no, see, if all you have is bad memories, then it’s just as powerful to take those away—the point is, memories have power either way!” But even that feels a little half-baked, gymnastics-brainy.

Basically, I agree with you. A story that resolves with a character, or characters, accepting a lie as truth is always going to be a fumble of the whole story…unless it’s intended to be a tragedy, a cautionary tale. I can think of three where that’s super evident.

1 ) A Streetcar Named Desire

In this movie the main character, Blanche, is lying about who she is, for the whole story. She even has this great symbolism thing with light—she hates bright light, on the surface because she’s vain and doesn’t want anyone to see signs that she’s aging. But under the surface, the character is really an immoral, lust-filled, broken person who knows she can be cruel and isn’t deserving of love. She doesn’t want anyone to know that side of her. She hides it all under vainglory and pride. So she pretends to her sister, Stella, that she’s upright and moral and has simply fallen on hard times. But her sister’s brute of an abusive husband, Stanley, who is always 100% his authentic, awful self, sees through Blanche when she comes to stay with them. In the end, Stanley rapes Blanche and then carelessly shrugs her accusations off.

The main point of this example is that Stella, the wife of the rapist Stanley, has been portrayed the whole movie as sometimes-leaving her abusive husband…but only as far as the apartment above their own, literally right above him, so that she can easily go back to him. And at the end of the movie, when Blanche is being taken to a mental institution because she’s broken-down after being found-out as a fraud, then raped, Stella lets them take her away. And then Stella goes up to the apartment above, where she always “pretends” to leave Stanley. It’s such a halfhearted, lazy way to end a movie that’s all about desire-versus-truth. Because what it implies is that Stella is leaving Stanley for now, like she might believe that he raped her sister…but she’ll eventually go back to him. And in the meantime, Blanche goes off to the mental hospital, with this iconic line “I have always depended upon the kindness of strangers.” By which she means, “strangers don’t know what a two-faced monster I really am, so I can con them into thinking I’m a morally-upright woman fallen on hard times, and they’ll take pity on me—so sure, I’ll go with you, strange doctor I’ve never met.”

The central point of the movie is “as long as nobody looks the truth in the face, everyone can go on getting what they desire.”

Of course, that’s true. But the other truth is that, if Stella accepted what her sister and her husband really are—her sister is broken and her husband is a monster—then she could choose to rise above “animal desire.” She could choose to take care of Blanche, and Blanche would see that “someone seeing who I really am” doesn’t always have to lead to ruin and damnation. Stella could then, also, choose to really leave Stanley, for good, and be at peace, while Stanley’s “desire” would be rewarded with ruin.

But instead the opposite is what happens. Blanche goes away believing, in her broken mind, that her womanly wiles and faking will protect her from further injury, even though they never have—Stanley ends the movie exactly where he began it, screaming for Stella to come back and knowing that she will—and Stella, too, ends the movie going away from Stanley…just for a little while, until animal desire convinces her to just pretend Stanley isn’t really a monster, Blanche must be crazy, except this time, when she goes back, she’ll be carrying a child into that abusive lie.

All characters wholeheartedly embracing hurtful lies so they can keep riding their desires. I hate that movie. You could see it as a cautionary tale. Most don’t. Most see it as a movie with “hot Marlon Brando” who “really loves Stella—all the characters ‘really love each other,’ they just don’t know how to express it healthily!” 🙄

I think the worst part is that the movie behaves as if it is true that every time Blanche reveals her own brokenness or is vulnerable, the world STOMPS on her for it, nobody loves her despite her brokenness. That’s the real mistake this movie makes. It has an opportunity to show unconditional love and it leaves the audience thinking Blanche was right, and there’s no such THING as “unconditional” love, instead.

Anyway.

2) X-Men Origins: The Wolverine

This one is less thematic. But it’s just dumb because the whole movie the main character, Logan, Wolverine, is being taught that “Giving in to Bloodlust Makes You an Animal—Compassion For Those Weaker Than Yourself Makes You Human.”

So in that context, the whole narrative is centered around the exploration of “Who is Logan/Wolverine?”

…Which makes it really stupid that the movie ends with him losing his memory. So…the movie asks “Who Are You?” and right after the character figures it out, he forgets and ends it with the answer: “I don’t know who I am.”

That’s just a waste. That’s silly. It allows you to take the character to real, hearty, coming-of-age, hero-forged-in-fire, a man-born-of-tragedy places…and then just shrug all that stuff off at the end. “Never mind. But it was a fun ride, wasn’t it?”

Especially because they built it all around the dichotomy between Logan and his brother, who’s little more than an animal—and Logan and his wife, who could be an animal, but chooses compassion instead, and reminds him of his choice, too. —and then she dies, and it’s implied that maybe his brother does too, but who cares, cuz he forgets. Who cares? Not Logan. So why should the audience?

I get that they “needed” to do this so that the end of this movie sets up the beginning of the X-Men Movies, which already established that Logan can’t remember “his past.” But like…then don’t make the point of the movie “Who Am I?” just to end on “…Okay, So WHO AM I?”

It’s a fine movie up until that point.

They should’ve made the movie center around “Can’t Change What You’ve Done; But You Can Be Redeemed.” And then show his memory loss around a moment of self-sacrifice. So that it’s still tragic, but at least when he wakes up from the self-sacrificial act, he’s “a new man.” Then later, in the third X-Men movie, when Logan chooses that mutant kid over “learning the secrets of his past,” it all comes full circle, because his “self-sacrifice moment” can stay where the Old Logan died.

Anyway. You didn’t ask me to re-tell X-Men Origins: The Wolverine. But it’s the same basic premise—a movie ends with a character losing their memory, or believing a lie—whatever.

You know, actually, this one isn’t so much “believing a lie” as it is “going back to considering the lie (that he’s an animal) because all the work done to convince him of the truth has been stupidly erased”

3) The Dark Knight

Saved this for last because nobody would read all that if they saw me scratching up the beloved Christopher Nolan Masterpiece.

But The Dark Knight is a perfect example of what you’re actually talking about.

The movie is awesome until the end.

It’s not hard to guess what I’m going to say. Harvey Dent is supposed to be a shining example of a good guy, and the goodness, that Gotham is capable of. The Goodness that will ultimately defeat Evil. And Evil is represented as Chaos.

Bruce sees that and that’s why he’s willing to give everything to make Harvey succeed as the hero Gotham needs. Because if Gotham sees that evil can be conquered by doing things the right way, the orderly way, that will get Gotham out of it’s “Justice is Broken, Vengeance is The Only Form of Justice” cycle.

Then there’s the Joker. He doesn’t believe there’s any such thing as Good—it’s all just Chaos (which is evil.) And his big mission is to prove it. It’s ironic that he twists Harvey’s sense of “justice” around to this viewpoint—where Harvey uses “chance” as just another form of “retribution.”

Anyway. All of that’s interesting.

But the movie both perpetuates a lie and does so by having the characters end believing a lie.

The lie it perpetuates is “The Joker is right, there’s no such thing as Justice or Good—it’s all just chaos, but pretending it’s not can get you through the day.”

That’s the lie it perpetuates!

And how does it do that?

By having the “city of Gotham,” and Bruce himself, believe a lie.

They believe Harvey Dent really was a good guy who died a hero. Bruce believes Rachel died still waiting for him, which symbolized her supposed belief in the good of Bruce and capability of Bruce to let it all go.

And why was it important that they believe those lies? Because the supposed truth is too harsh—that there’s no Good, it’s all Chaos. And if they believe that supposed truth, they’ll all turn out like Harvey or Joker. If Bruce believes Rachel chose Harvey, he’ll supposedly give up on something important in himself.

Okay but the problem with that is you have characters believing a lie because of a truth—that isn’t the truth. It’s the same problem with Streetcar.

The people of Gotham, the worst people of Gotham, aren’t always going to choose evil. There is such a thing as justice and good. And Harvey turning into Two-Face doesn’t change that. The movie could’ve shown that. It started to, with the prisoners on the second boat choosing not to kill the civilians to save themselves.

But it chose not to make that the point of the movie. It chose to make “The Joker was Right, Good is a Comforting Lie, & the Closest You’ll Ever Get to Justice is Vengeance & Chaos” the point of the movie. By having Batman convince the whole city to believe the comforting lie, what you’re saying is, Bruce believes that the truth won’t set Gotham free, only wrap it in chains.

That’s the problem with these movies.

And that’s why I think Captain America: The Winter Soldier licks The Dark Knight hollow every time, and is all-in-all a better movie, hands down. In this continued essay—

[balkanradfem]

Okay so I know I just hit you all with the controversial chestnut poll, but I have some new development in life that I want to complain about, and in order for me to complain about it, I need to give you the context.

I don't particularly want to give you the context. You're going to diagnose me with female socialization, and some of you will feel the urge to click the anonymous ask button and tell me off. Today I need you to fight that urge! I am feeling insecure, I am feeling lost, I'm not certain in my choices, I've acted without thinking, and got myself into a situation I can't control. So please don't be mean to me. I deserve to complain on the internet and not be called out, alright?

So this is the story of how I accidentally became a live-in caretaker for an injured, elderly woman. It's temporary! She'll get better, hopefully.

I worked for her occasionally, and she's always been kind to me. She would give me a little jar of jam sometimes, and I love little jars of jam, it's a way to win my heart. A few days ago, she called me in a panic, telling me she fell, and she needs my help. I came over, and found out she broke her arm in two places, and one of her rib is broken. She fell unconscious, after being dizzy all day, and fell on a big metal lantern, breaking it. She was now in so much pain she couldn't get up by herself, dress herself, or do any kind of household tasks. She went to the ER, got her arm wrapped up, and was trying to get a pain injection. I helped her get trough the day, and promised to come early next morning, to help her up from the bed.

Next day I found her in tears in her bed, unable to get up, desperate to go to the bathroom. It became clear she needed 24/7 assistance, and she asked me if I would move in until she got better. I said yes without thinking, because I was at this point, severely concerned, and wanted to do anything to help her out.

So this is all not so bad, right, I'm being normal, it's normal to offer help to an injured elderly woman who is nice, but there's a catch. She doesn't live alone. She lives with her older husband. Who is also disabled and can't help her at all. So in order to help her out.. I had to move into a place where a male lives. That is the worst part of this.

I'm still in the first few days of living like this, and my own life had to fall to the background. I can't go foraging for chestnuts every day, I can't go to my garden as much, I'm still going to work, just from her place. I'm overwhelmed and struggling to get used to the new situation. I'm not used to being around people at all, and now I'm forced to socialize almost all day. Caring for someone comes fairly natural! I'm already so in sync with her, she can just look in the certain direction and I know what she wants me to do. I've figured out where everything is in her kitchen, closet, and basement. She's pleased that I know how to do basic household tasks, and am willing to do it in her way. And she's nice, she's telling me things like 'thank you' and 'what would I do without you', which feels good. But I am very exhausted and sleep deprived, she wakes me up at 1am, and then 5am again, and I'm unable to fall back asleep in a room I lack familiarity with. I miss my room.

She and her husband said they were going to pay me, and in my natural ways, I said something like 'no you don't need to' which I feel like everyone will get mad at me for, but they did insist they would pay me anyway. I as usual lack the sense to care about money – someone's arm is broken, that's way more serious issue to me!

Alright so now to the part of the post I wanted to write, a fun poll where you guess, what has her awful husband done by this point :) go ahead and guess!

You have one day to guess! Which one of these scenarios happened in the first few days of his wife breaking three bones in her body. I'll tell you the correct option tomorrow!

[wheneverfeasible]

Historical omegaverse au idea(s) I may never write but by the gods do I want to

I’m gonna be honest. I’ve been reading a couple historical omegaverse fics (specifically here and here) and I also watched The Nun II recently and idk. Ignoring the demon/horror aspect, I just kind of got caught with the idea of rural boarding school teacher and the lowly grounds worker there. With o!Steve as the teacher and a!Eddie as the groundskeeper of course.

~

Picture it. Steve has “adopted” Max (I know, I know, it’s usually Dustin, but since Claudia isn’t going to be in the final season, I just can’t stand to get rid of her and Max makes the most sense for needing a new guardian) but according to paperwork to keep Max safe, they have lied and said that Max is biologically his. Perhaps him taking her in was one of the reasons why his high society family has disowned him and now he’s a vaguely destitute teacher that he only got the job of because his friend Robin (who teaches foreign language obvi) vouched for him. His being a teacher there allows Max to attend classes, though some of the snootier kids are assholes about it.

Anyways, Eddie works the grounds with his uncle, both also quite destitute but they have a good thing going there, though they are always treated poorly by the rich children there. The exceptions are of course the Wheeler child, the Sinclair children, and the Henderson child, as well as their friends the Hopper-Byers children who are there on scholarship. This is the group that welcomes Max into their fold eventually too.

Eddie of course thinks Steve is a bit too snooty when he first lays eyes on him, but then quickly realizes Steve isn’t like that at all. (Steve meanwhile thinks Eddie is uncouth until realizing he’s actually quite gentle and sensitive.) As well, if he has a child at such a young age, Eddie realizes that Steve must have had her probably around his first heat right after presenting. This is a belief everyone holds, and one Steve and Max actively encourages to prevent them taking Max away from him, but it does lead to them both being look down upon frequently and has ruined all prospects for Steve.

There’s obviously lots of pining, plenty of misunderstandings, and lots of Robin and Wayne and Max watching these two idiots dance around each other and face palming. Robin is of course the only one who knows the truth about Max because Robin knew Steve before he was disowned, and knew about Max’s past too. Maybe, just maybe, Steve rescued her from an abusive household. A violent stepfather, an abusive stepbrother, an alcoholic mother…maybe Steve helps her escape and leaves his past life behind.

MAYBE the reason Steve and Max crossed paths was because the Hargroves and the Harringtons were in talks of an arranged match between a!Billy and Steve. Steve didn’t want it, saw how miserable Max was, and basically kidnapped Max (with her consent) and ran away with her to give them both a chance at a better life.

Which is why, after Eddie and Steve finally start to make their moves, the climax of the story angst begins where Billy has found them (maybe Neil is dead idk and Billy took over managing the family), claiming Steve belongs to him and offering to drop all kidnapping charges if he returns quietly with Max. Eddie learns the truth about Max’s parentage then, and Steve’s past, and the whole lot of them come up with a solution that I don’t know what it is yet.

Maybe Steve sacrifices himself and agrees to return and mate with Billy only if Max can stay with her new friends and Robin and for the Hargroves forget about her existence. Billy would eventually accept this. Maybe while Steve and Billy are set to return home, Eddie rushes to prevent their departure and challenges Billy to a duel or something.

Blah blah blah Eddie wins of course and Steve and Max get to stay and Steve officially adopts her, and he and Eddie finally get together and knock boots. And Steve and Eddie love Max as their own and eventually give her a younger sibling which she then fears they’ll love more than her and worries Steve will regret adopting her but obviously that’s not true and Steve and Eddie make sure she knows that she is theirs in all ways. Their first child, no matter what.

Anyways yeah. Maybe one day I’ll do the research necessary for this. Also when I have time to devote myself to this story in its whole. Definitely deserves at least 50k I feel. And I sadly just don’t have time for that right now.

THAT BEING SAID.

I also really adore the idea of teacher Eddie and groundskeeper Steve, because I love reversing tropes and I love making Steve work with his hands in a lowly position, especially if he used to be from a “proper” family, but then the plot would definitely change some. Steve could honestly remain as the omega in this situation too, or switch it up and make him the alpha. Probably get rid of the parent aspect, unless perhaps it’s post-divorce Susan who has become an alcoholic and Eddie did actually officially adopt her because they had been neighbors or something before he moved for a better life.

OR Steve is the teacher but the above about Max and Eddie is still true and she can only attend the school because he’s the groundskeeper which still causes issues with the popular rich kids. And Steve is the teacher who takes a shining to her. Not sure what the main drama aspect would be then. Maybe Eddie is framed for something and is being sent away from the school or arrested or something, and Steve & Co. prove his innocence.

~

Idk. So many options. My issue with aus is that I also come up with aus of aus because I can’t decide how most I would love things to go which then makes it difficult to actually write anything 😂

-

If anyone else wants to use any of these ideas in the meantime, feel free! Just tag credit and link the fic so I can read it!

-

Hostage tags: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[herefortheships]

Why would you say people ship Beetlejuice and Lydia? I’ve been a fan for so long I’m just like “huh…why do we ship it?”

Suddenly remembered I hadn’t answered this, and since I can’t sleep right now I’ll answer it! I meant to earlier and forgot.

I personally ship it because I love the concept of monster x human relationships, and especially when one character (usually the male part of the ship when it’s m/f) in this case this character is Betelgeuse, is dark, powerful, often immortal and even terrifying, (in Betelgeuse’s case also unhinged and absolutely crazy lol), and definitely the least you would expect to EVER fall in love, and yet he does fall in love with this other character who happens to be human, mortal, often quiet and also unlikely to fall in love. These two are the least likely to fall for each other, but they do! Then he starts to show a softer, completely unexpectedly romantic side to him that is reserved only for this woman he loves and no one else. She is both his strength and his weakness all at the same time. He is willing to do everything and anything for her.

Often these two characters are complete opposites and at odds with each other (or even enemies!) and yet they find each other in the middle. There is something they find in the other which cannot be replaced or found in anyone else in the world, and as unexpected and unusual and crazy at it is, before they even know it, their connection is forged in a way where they cannot and will not ever belong or fit in with anyone else. They’ve become a part of each other, even when the odds were against them or might be against them forever because they are intrinsically worlds apart. But love just finds them, and they meet in the middle.

I also love this kind of couple a lot when one of the two realizes their connection before the other, like Beetlejuice just knowing Lydia is *the one*, even if he can’t explain to her how he knows or why. This same scenario happens with Spike in Buffy the Vampire Slayer. At some point he realized she was the one, and she just got under his skin and became an inseparable part of his being.

Although not always, I believe this type of couple also follows the female gaze, since the male character (as I mentioned above it’s often the male character) shows an interest in the emotions of the female part. This is true in Beetlebabes. He isn’t interested only in her body, but also in honoring her emotions and desires (like Betelgeuse honoring Lydia’s wishes to have a more private wedding and respecting her boundaries by not forcing her to kiss him or something like that, plus making an effort at being romantic by serenading her and giving her an absolutely romantic wedding with a magical dance in the air). These interactions that are more romantic than sexual speak to the female gaze.

I think also that Beetlejuice Beetlejuice had several “Universal fantasies” entwined in the Betelgeuse x Lydia relationship that are just irresistible for many romance lovers and when those are present, our minds just inevitably grab on to those fantasies and identity them whether we are aware of them or not. Our mind just goes yep this is a romance and oh boy what a romance this is and before you know it you are obsessed. If you haven’t read about Universal Fantasies in writing, these are basically just more specific tropes that really speak to audiences in a way that hooks them powerfully to a story, and more specifically to romantic stories. This concept is introduced by Theodora Taylor in her book 7 Figure Fiction (which I’m sure many writers know about since it’s pretty popular but I mention it just in case it’s new to someone reading this).

Another reason lots of people love this ship is just aesthetics as well which is also valid. For me this for sure became one of my top three Burton couples.

[nokonomi]

What if Bill Cipher had a little sister? + Bonus Reverse! Gravity Falls Bally

What if Bill Cipher had a little sibling, yes I know he destroyed his home dimension but like what if he formed a version of him into his little sister and make them instantly related? I would imagine them having like some kind of chaos junkie older brother and younger sister calmer girl relationship with each other. Bally knows she can’t scold Bill because well, for one, he formed her, and two! She is the younger sibling here so yeah no. But technically she can still scold him even if it results in a sibling fight. They express their platonic love for each other like that way.

Bally is more mature and calmer for a 12-year old triangular entity that has one eye as well, except she doesn’t have a top hat nor is yellow, she’s purplish-blue and has a dark purple bow on top of her pointy head. Eyelashes are more downwards and soft. Carries a little book around with her universal spells and all that little sh!t. She’s a nerd and she likes to study things about the cosmos.

Did I mention whenever she sings she has a very loud voice it can erupt an entire earthquake in just 3 seconds? Yeah so rule number one, no singing (bill said) Honestly she is very powerful but not as powerful as Bill, she can control matter and space, but not time. So she can basically form whatever she wants (an imaginary boyfriend)

Her spells usually come out in a bluish hue, indicating her rather calmer and insignificant side. She’s more exposed to nature then anything in the entire Galaxy. She’s never killed anyone! Not yet… but she is a well-behaved kid, even if she is billions of years old.

Now since she was formed by Bill, she doesn’t know what happened to her parents, well, not really her parents. But she wishes she had parents. She knows what they look like since she shares an individual mind with Bill. And trust me the clean-up process for her to forget all these memories was not pretty.

Sometimes she’ll make a dimension of her own and maybe spend time in it and remorse about lonely times, sit in a corner and draw her and her brother with their presumed dead parents hugging them both. Sometimes she wishes they could maybe hug her too if she was ever apart of the family when her older brother was younger. She misses them. She misses when she was just a little speck of dust in the universe for some reason before getting formed into a real Euclydian.

Now she doesn’t really talk with Bill much, since he’s too busy with much other sh!t he has to deal with anyways. Sometimes she wishes he had the time to spend time with her, but no! THAT never happened. She knows he’s got “big plans” coming up soon. But she can’t just stop time and make him hangout with her. It’s beyond her control. He formed her because he wanted someone to call “family” since he misses his parents.

But she doesn’t think that he wants her as family. He just didn’t care and formed her to clean up his own messes, which she always ends up doing. Part of that is true, some of it is not. She knows the trauma he has.

Fast forward a billions years later to the near 80s. It had been a long time ever since she saw her brother. Distant and alone and hungry for brotherly bonds and relationship, but they never seemed to happen in the end. That is until her mind peaked at a glimpse of Bill’s plans on Earth. Stanford Pines. A genius. Yes. She could finally find someone to connect to. So she headed down to Earth in a human form of herself to maybe see what her brother was up to. She could’ve done this any time, any day, any century, but no. She didn’t want to disturb her brother. After stumbling across Gravity Falls, Oregon. She mentally located the site Stanford was located at and found it, carefully wandering about it. She noticed that Ford was asleep and she decided to enter the Mindscape and see what his brain was filled with. Man, a genius. He was like her. She saw Bill and Ford playing chess, and once Bill detected her, he rushed over to her and said, “Heya sis! It’s been MILLIONS OF YEARS ever since I last saw ‘ya! How ya been?” He acts as if he had seen her last month. She got frustrated and stormed off, Stanford looked at her in sympathy, poor girl was lost.

Now she got angry because he acted as if he had seen her just last week, and he pretended to actually care when in reality he didn’t. This made her very frustrated, screaming at the top of her lungs as she ripped out pages of books that floated inside of The Mindscape. Bill tries to calm her down, which soothes her. What a fool she was for believing he actually cared for her in the end. She smiled and hugged him gently. Bill introduced Bally to Stanford, “Bally, Stanford! Stanford, Bally!”

Bally looked at Stanford in a curious way and smiled. He might be connected to her in some way in the near future. But when she found that portal they were planning, it ruined her. She knew something. She knew connecting The Mindscape with Earth would result in destruction. She tried stopping Bill. It didn’t work. He manipulated her. She ended up crying and storming off, she never saw Bill and Stanford ever again, assuming they were at their worst points.

Authors note: Man this was a very long lore story to go to! Anyways here’s a drawing of her and Reverse!Gravity Falls AU her! I’m hoping you all enjoyed the lore reading. She might be a bit tad out and cringe but I like her for that. I might change her up later!

Some facts about Sally and Bally. -Bally likes reading books and using her books to make spells or summon random things. She glows blue whenever she does something incredibly powerful.

-Bally believes Bill didn’t actually care for her, which he didn’t care for her actually. He manipulated her and why should she trust him? -She got cheated out of her own childhood.

SALLY

-Sally is an ENTP, silly and more extroverted, honestly had no care in the world whatsoever and a chaos junkie like Bill. -Makes fun of Will (Reverse!gravity falls AU Bill Cipher) for being so easily depressed and cries easily. She thinks he’s weak, she actually cares for her older brother.

-Literally the type to say “ROFLMAO!” “LMAO” “LOL XD” “<3” Gen Z type.

-Honestly does not care about Earth or any other dimension. WORKS FOR NOBODY. NOBODY. NOBODY NOBODY NOBODY.

[naenaex0xx]

maybe I'm comfortable with tumblr because I get to say things I don't usually tell anyone

[randomnameless]

I'll never understand the idea that Claude is smart. This is the guy who, no joke, didn't understand there were poor people in Almyra until one was literally right in front of him.

To be fair,

That's also something I ranted about in Birthrout when Ryoma went all "i never knew people in Nohr were starving" because there's no way a crown prince and future heir of a nation doesn't know basic things about his immediate neighbours -

Claude isn't supposed to be their heir though, just one of many princes - and yet this isn't about knowing what a neighboring nation is like, but knowing what Almyra is like. What kind of education did he receive in Almyra? Were they talking about the border regions and how people there lived in miserable conditions due to the friday raids and the War (Goneril interventions?) and how this situation affected civilians?

Almyra is supposed to be vast - so maybe people living in the capital don't really know how the people living far from the capital or near the border live... but we're not talking about the miller's son, but about a prince! Again, maybe because he's just "one of many" princes, he didn't get a special education or his was lacking (but his parents made sure he knew how to untie himself from a rope while being attached to a horse, so they had different priorities??) - but it's jarring to compare how little Claude and Supreme Leader know about their own territories to Dimitri, who can give exposition about the various events happening in Faerghus and knows more or less what are its current issues.

I've seen in the fandom some people comparing Claude to an undergraduate student entering Uni, like he is sure he knows everything about every topic, when his knowledge is very superficial at best, downright utterly wrong at worst.

But not knowing about Almyra's lack of social structure comparable to the CoS who does the majority of Fodlan's charity work and hosts the biggest orphanage in those lands really makes him look... ignorant about the country he speaks so highly for, which is not a good look at all.

[wingfooted]

Absolutely adored the Draenei heritage quest and think it's probably the best one we've gotten, but my favorite part of all by far was seeing these two again. I love how they brought back so many different characters connected to the Draenei from across the entire history of the game, especially as someone who has been playing my Draenei since BC, but these two are so special to me and seeing them again, still together after all this time made me giddy.

[void-tiger]

Trying to keep a lid on it but. Yeah. Literally don’t know what’s it like to NOT be platonically neglected IRL my whole damn life, only that I know this One Person doesn’t deserve to be at the epicenter of it anymore than I deserved to have been at the epicenter of theirs a year ago now.

…why am I like this. Why are we like this.

[wain-wright]

music theory basics

but Not Really, this is specifically about trying to write out my confusion with his video, but to start:

"In music theory, a scale is any set of musical notes ordered by fundamental frequency or pitch." (wikipedia) A scale in common parlance is set between between two pitches that are an octave apart. A scale is an interval pattern of pitches between two pitches that are an octave apart.

Octave is a technical term based off of frequency: "Modern Western music uses a system called equal temperament (ET for short). The table below shows the frequency ratios for all intervals from unison up to an octave. (Unison is the musical name for the “interval” between two identical notes.)"

An octave is “the distance between one note and another note that’s double its frequency. For instance, the note A4 is the sound of a vibration at 440 Hz. The note A5 is the sound of a vibration at 880 Hz. Going in the other direction, the note A3 is the sound of a vibration at 220Hz.”

So: a scale is a set of pitches within an octave, and the smallest interval they are 'divided' by in western music is the semitone, or half step. Semitones:

Equal temperament divides the octave into twelve identical intervals (called half-steps or semitones). As a result, each semitone corresponds to a frequency ratio of  2(1/12)2(1/12). What this means is a note a semitone above 100Hz100𝐻𝑧 has a frequency of 2(1/12)∗100Hz2(1/12)∗100𝐻𝑧, or roughly 106Hz106𝐻𝑧. Note:  2(1/12)2(1/12) can also be written as 12√2212 and is roughly equal to 1.06. When you “stack” musical intervals, the frequency ratios multiply together– not add. A semitone is a factor of 12√2212 because going up twelve semitones in a row must be the same thing as going up one octave. If you multiply 12√2212 by itself twelve times in a row, you get two- exactly the right frequency ratio for the octave. Other intervals in ET are built by “stacking” semitones. Each semitone you go up (or down) increases (or decreases) the frequency by a factor of (12√2)(212). Go up (or down) certain number of semitones, the frequency increases (decreases) by a factor of (12√2)n(212)𝑛 where n𝑛 represents the number of semitones you go up.  You can combine these ideas into a single equation: f1=f2∗(12√2)n𝑓1=𝑓2∗(212)𝑛 Here’s the same equation written with fractional exponents (rather than root signs); f1=f2∗2(n/12)𝑓1=𝑓2∗2(𝑛/12) In the equation, f2𝑓2 represents the frequency you want to find and f1𝑓1 is the frequency of the note you start with. Use positive numbers for n𝑛 if the frequency you want to find is higher than the frequency you are given. Use negative numbers if you are going down in pitch. Charts with note names and corresponding frequencies are freely available on the web- search on “note name frequency chart” to see a selection. Almost all of these charts are generated using the equation above, using the frequency 440 Hz for the note A4 as the starting point. (This standard note is often called A440).

Equal temperament is the most common system for musical intervals but it is not the only one. Early temperament systems based musical intervals frequency ratios based on whole numbers. Pythagorean temperament defines a perfect fifth as a frequency ratio of 3:2 and defines all other notes in terms of the perfect fifth. Just temperament defines all intervals in terms of fractions of whole numbers. The advantage of these older temperaments is that musically important intervals (like perfect fifths and major thirds) are perfectly in tune with the overtones wind and string instruments produce. The drawback is that non-ET systems do not handle key signatures changes well. In non-ET systems, musical notes produced in one key signature (say D major) do not produce the same musical intervals when music of a different key signature (say C major) is played.

Even just hearing the above causes every musician to start trying to catalogue how inadequate ET is to record various types of music.

However, in practice it's impossible to tune off of ET/matching a hertz anyway, people modify scales and tuning on their instruments to frequencies to match slightly different scales that in the end don't exactly line up with this kind of measurement. This isn't a bug, but an intended feature. More styles of measurement of scales are commonly explained when explaining these basics, including microtones, which are defined as quarter-steps, they are supposed to be half of semitones. In practice, imo, this is negligible to hear, but exists.

However- this does mean on most scales within an octave, there are twelve possible intervals called semitones/half-steps. The piano is tuned for exactly this. Two adjacent keys on a piano are a half-step apart. (This is what chromatic scale means: a scale where you play all 12 half steps within an octave.) (The definition of a diatonic scale is currently: a pattern of intervals between seven notes of most modern scales (not only including western history) and the seven modes based off these intervals.) (There are multiple non-diatonic variations of major and minor scales that come off from a mode, that is not uncommon or special.)

A mode is the pattern of half and whole steps that can begin/use as a tonic any note of a root scale, without shifting the intervals between them. If the interval is shifted (common,) then it is a variation of that mode (common names: harmonic and melodic), and no longer the same type of scale as the root "scale." (Any scale can have modes, depending on number of pitch and the pattern of pitch. A chromatic scale would technically have 12 modes, but it would be identical no matter where you start so what's the point. )

Any sound you hear in most music (including traditional music not only from western tradition) works using a chromatic scale. Not every music scale in various music is always going to specifically going to match a diatonic scale (even including accidentals), but that's true of a lot of music considered "western", not just traditional music of any given culture. All music exists using a "scale" because that's literally just what it means- if it's along an interval pattern except for an odd note out that note is an "accidental" to a scale and gets a special marking like # or b in the music to denote how it sounds outside the scale marked at the beginning of the sheet music. Music can change key/scale at any time.

Nowadays most scales use seven notes/pitches in an octave, in an pattern of intervals (whole steps and half steps) called the diatonic scale. (Skipping over why, tbh it's probably not racism, applies to a lot of music.) Two half-steps together form the interval of a whole step. The pattern of the major and minor scale are formed by a variety of half and whole steps. G major scale is a diatonic scale, G ionian mode of G major scale (tonic and root are the same note G, which is the first degree.) G minor scale is a diatonic scale, G aeolian mode (natural minor scale) of the 'parent' B major scale. (tonic is B, root is G)

Modes of a major/diatonic scale:

(from the tonic starting from which root degree degree first to seventh) Ionian - Dorian - Phrygian - Lydian - Mixolydian - Aeolian - Locrian

But to skip forward a lot, say you make modes of any of these scales in themselves and don't stick to the interval pattern of the diatonic scale (common.) Then it is no longer diatonic, and starts getting labelled based off the shifted intervals within the scale.

Modes of a minor scale (at random example) (actually i should check this later):

Melodic Minor - Dorian b2 - Lydian Augmented - Lydian Dominant - Mixolydian b6 - Locrian Natural - Altered Dominant

There's a lot of variation you can introduce through modes based off of different intervals between pitches in a scale. It makes sense to me there are a lot of unique modes used for music I'm not familiar with. However: it is simply a different claim to say that there are such commonly used quarter steps/microtones that suddenly make talking about music impossible, that's just saying words man.

You'd easily just make a scale that includes a quarter step with all the annoying extra notes that implies. I googled iranians modes very briefly.

There doesn't seem to be overwhelming shower of information on some system of intervals that specifically uses a scale with missing microtones but iranian modes do have scales that tune a few notes a microtone flatter on a normal chromatic scale- these specific notes a quarter-step flat are labelled 'koron' (which implies to me there aren't a huge amount of microtones to practically use in these scales, it's related to having a style where a note is bent down slightly instead and maybe it is a proper novel harmony I'd love to learn about) but it is true foreign traditional modes are not studied in the lens of introductory music theory, but he didn't develop his argument at all so I'm not sure what he's saying, because he's not sure what he's saying past that. (I'm filtering his argument to make it as if he would if he was more knowledgeable.)

[shopcat]

do u have any particular sexuality thoughts abt eddie the way you do abt steve?

not really at least in the same way? i don't think!! :0 w steve we have a lot of basis to go off of bc we get 4 seasons of specific characterisation expressly to do with how he interacts with romance + girls + his own reputation thereupon so it's really fun to extract stuff from that but with eddie he's sort of more of a blank slate but also funnily, in comparison, we do get a LOT of character building back story and development even through implication that makes it a different kind of interesting thing to gather stuff from 🤔 it's also funny that we know way more about eddie's home life than robin OR steve's LOL literally just funny...

i think it's fun that the gay hc is so popular with eddie and i get it he is a little gayboy tbh and i also think it ties in significantly with how... you can tell from extrapolation and just basic like, relation that eddie is this guy who was outcast by society BEFORE he developed his own counterculture against it and the way he wears his specific type of anti authoritarian anti mainstream bubble wrap is in line i think with some sort of intrinsic part of him, and others, that he may feel he needs to protect and defend against. a not insignificant part of a lot of actual counterculture is being against the bigotry and oppression that goes hand in hand with society at large and, fundamentally, the loudest voices against oppression and the leading forefront will always be and SHOULD always be the victim and survivors of it, and a gay metalhead with a punk rock attitude in the 80s is the easiest thing in the world to imagine. i think we as like lgbt people and anyone else who has a certain hand in... allyship can pick up on this really easily with eddie and see ourselves in that part of him that feels different than the same vein social ostracisation like, dustin and mike go through, even if on the surface it appears similar.

so yeah basically i think he's literally gay. i don't know if the quote unquote gay CODING was intentional and i'm going to go with a definitive Not but i will enjoy the spoils nonetheless. i also think it's significant that a lot of the real life inspiration for eddie specifically WERE gay kids and probably that is where this unintentional coding springs from... the hunt the freak line is a very important one to me as well for this specifically with that it's him and robin, a canonical gay woman, meeting him on his level without skipping a beat. this is also where i disagree that obviously his death was not "bury your gays" because anything picked up on was not something that was figuratively put down 😭😭 the duffers did not have EDDIE circled on a whiteboard with 💯 GAY -> pointed to it we literally just think he's gay.

also just bc i kind of side stepped the sexuality hc itself unintentionally HEH i think he could also be bi sure and all this remain true!!! though i don't think he had any feelings for chrissy (and to me reading that scene as him having a crush on her comes off... different. soz.) potential age gap notwithstanding. i think bi eddie could be fun and also hilarious bc it means he had even more of a quote unquote chance and still erm. committed virgin sacrifice </3 i do agree with the like general consensus of him being bi feels different if only because erm... there is a lack of actual evidence that he is inclined one way or the other and being assumptive of his supposed attraction to women in order to undercut the gayness is like a very classic homophobic. thing. and also weirdos ruin it

if eddie is bisexual i think it is purely in theory for him as well as us (lol) and he would probably be SO annoying stoner-esque "why limit your love to just one half of the population mannn" type about it despite never getting any bc he's scared of girls in a gayboy way. also i do not see truly any part of him being some sort of behind the scenes suave seductor of women DESPITE what the horny minded may or may not think... he is not looming over any girl being some sort of manic pixie edward cullen reject he goes home and neurodiversely plays the same chord over and over again on his guitar then passes out wearing jeans he is literally a wet eyed loser not a wattpad BAD BOY. My poor little princess RIP

[magentagalaxies]

Jessamine is Passionate About Fictional AI Sentience But Not Real AI Sentience: An Essay

one thing about me is when it comes to talk of "sentient" AI irl i 100% don't buy it like technology is not that advanced and being able to act like a person doesn't make it a person, however whenever there's a question about if a fictional AI character is sentient i will go to bat for that character's humanity 100% of a time like fuck you they have just as much of a right to personhood as anyone else

i think it's bc in fiction like. all of these characters are fake, so distinguishing between which characters are fake-real and fake-fake is like. why limit yourself to what could happen in our world. like if we're already dealing with a universe where aliens/magic/etc. exists, why can't this android justifiably be as human as anyone else? plus irl almost all AI software is developed as part of this capitalistic hell structure we're in. no matter how "real" or "human" it feels, its function is to make you contribute to its creators' wealth, and its inability to go against this nature can't help but make it feel hollow and inhuman. however, all the best AI characters in fiction are able to go against their designated purpose, often being defined by it, and often being villainized for it

in our real world, the AI's "immoral" "behavior" is a product of it being a Things that serves capitalism. it's not making choices based on a sense of self beyond what it has been told to prioritize, and a lot of times this lack of human judgment can lead to terrible consequences (e.g. mental health AI chatbots that cannot accurately judge a situation and give appropriate advice, employed because it's cheaper than hiring human staff). but in fiction? AI's immoral behavior is frequently a product of it going against its designated purpose, seeing itself as a person and having to make difficult and morally questionable choices in order to strive for the feelings of personhood and autonomy. this is a far more interesting situation ethically (while an AI itself cannot be seen as morally responsible for its actions in our world, in fiction this AI wants to be a person so badly it's willing to commit moral wrongs to achieve its goal, despite the fact that true personhood would allow it to be seen as morally responsible for these crimes) which i think is also why AI characters, especially those that, y'know, kill people, are often very polarizing figures. this conversation can even be taken a step further into the "liking a fictional character does not mean condoning their actions" discourse, but i also often think about well, if you were in the position of this AI character, would you have done the same?

personally i've always found it very easy to empathize with "artificial" characters like clones, robots, etc. and fictional AI is no different. yes, if you're watching a piece of media and expecting the logic of our world, the AI is fake, and incapable of being a person. but if you're watching a piece of media with the goal of emotionally connecting to fictional characters (who are all inherently fake) and exploring universal themes through a heightened setting, AI characters are one of the most interesting tropes to explore this with. personally, I love AI characters because there's something so vivid about knowing you were designed for a specific purpose/life path and ultimately realizing that's not the life you, personally, want to live. your designers and the world around you doesn't even recognize you as a being that should be capable of wanting anything, much less something completely different, so achieving the life you want is an uphill battle of convincing others of your humanity and, when that often isn't possible, having to resort to the most extreme tactics to claw your way out of the life you were supposed to lead. you know no matter how close you get to this ideal life, there's always going to be some part of you that keeps others from perceiving you as "human", but you learn to embrace that and see every mundane experience as a major achievement

this narrative is especially relatable to me as a neurodivergent/nonbinary person, but i think it can be relatable for many different marginalized identities in different ways, or anyone whose "humanity" has been something often denied to them. but because people are often expecting fictional AI to follow the same logic as actual AI, when i defend robot characters who want to kill their human creators, people give me weird looks like i'm advocating for that in real life. listen, if our current AI situation feasibly produced an AI who was invented for one specific purpose but somehow fucking hated her job and was able to pursue a new life and was also queer (all without any of this being by design) then hell yeah i support her, but that's not what's happening. and in our current capitalistic chatbot hellscape where every company wants to convince you that you're chatting with a super intelligent AI friend to get you to pay for a premium membership, sometimes you have to hold fiction and reality to different standards and enjoy this story about a quest for humanity while also accepting that the people this journey applies to in our real world are often the ones being taken advantage of in our increasingly AI-dominated real world.

idk this was originally supposed to be a short post about how it's funny that i'm so goddamn passionate about AI characters in media while also not being into AI in the real world, but then i got thinking about why this is specifically and came to an interesting conclusion imo. tbh it's very surprising that i don't currently have any of my own projects featuring AI characters fighting for their own humanity bc it's a theme i love so much that i've rarely seen done right and i have so many opinions on it. maybe i will write something about this at some point, but for now if you have any pieces of media you enjoy with AI who are absolutely worthy of personhood pls send them my way!

[maddy-ferguson]

i love that the last people heard the leftist coalition won the french legislative elections so they think we have a leftist government now lol

[joelsgoldrush]

“GUILTY PLEASURE” | 8.6k

logan howlett x fem!reader

“I want this like a cigarette / Can we drag it out and never quit?” Guilty Pleasure by Chappell Roan

SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.

WARNINGS/TAGS: smut - mdni 18+ fluff, angst, drinking, dirty talk, slow-burnish, grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader, reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes, age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, finger sucking, soft dom!logan, wade being the funniest asshole, logan calls reader "kiddo/kid"

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.

** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.

*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)

**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)

special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever

The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.

Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.

Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you. 

Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.” 

Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.

The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend. 

You:

cutie patootie alert

there’s this really handsome guy at the bar

i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before

i think i’m in love with him

my night just got a 100% better

Allison:

age

what does he look like

is he bald?

You:

he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here

brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong 

i didn’t stare at him for too long

otherwise that would’ve been very weird

and no he’s not fucking bald

that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair 

Allison:

so you’re dating retired now

get it grandma!

You:

oh fuck you allison 

Allison: 

it’s okay girl we all have our flaws

just make sure it’s nobody’s father

wait it’s not mine right?

You:

nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it

Allison:

bitch 

Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.

“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.

The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”

Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”

Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss. 

Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”

The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.

“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”

Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.” 

“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”

Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.

“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features. 

“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”

(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)

He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.

“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”

“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules. 

“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up. 

You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.

“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”

Yeah… that you knew.

It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.

As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.

“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.

“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”

“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”

For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”

“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.

“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”

His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”

“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”

“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”

“Look, Wolvie. I–”

“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”

“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”

You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.

Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.

“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”

The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”

“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”

“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”

“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”

A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”

“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”

“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”

“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”

Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”

“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”

“Me neither.”

“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”

You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”

Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”

But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”

The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.

(But you aren’t.)

His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”

“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”

Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”

“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”

“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”

As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.

What the fuck had just happened?

“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”

She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”

You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”

After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.

Your savior complex strikes again!

It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail. 

Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”

Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.

“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”

“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”

“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”

“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”

“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”

You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”

“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”

“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.

Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.

“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients. 

“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?

“You sure?”

“Affirmative.”

“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”

“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”

“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.

“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”

“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”

Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”

Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.

“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”

Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”

“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”

“What? No.”

“Why not? She’s cute.”

Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.

Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”

“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.

After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”

You could die at peace.

“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”

“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”

“Now why would you think that?”

“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”

“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.

“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”

“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”

“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.

He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”

Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”

His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”

This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.

“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.

“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”

You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.

Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.

Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”

You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”

“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment. 

Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”

“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”

“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”

Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”

“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”

“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”

“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”

When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”

“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you. 

Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”

“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”

From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”

“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”

“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”

“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”

“Go fuck yourself, will you?”

“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”

Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?

Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.

“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.

You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”

Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”

You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”

He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?

“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”

He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him. 

“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”

You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”

The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”

“I just... I want to understand you better.”

“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”

He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”

With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.

“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”

“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”

The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his. 

Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”

Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”

But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”

Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”

You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”

He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”

“Should I give you some space?”

That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”

“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”

“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”

“God, do you ever shut up?”

You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.

“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”

“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”

“Am I that easily replaced?”

“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”

Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.

Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.

He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?

It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.

Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?

“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.

“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”

The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic. 

“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”

“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”

You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.

“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”

“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”

“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”

“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”

“Careful.”

“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”

You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”

His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”

“Get your hands off her.”

Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on. 

“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”

“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”

Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”

“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?” 

The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”

“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.

“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.

“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.

“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”

“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”

The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”

Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”

“Don’t. Now is not the time.”

“I was protecting you.”

“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.

Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”

You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”

“I don’t have a phone.”

“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”

“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”

“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”

His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”

“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”

You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days. 

“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.

“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”

In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.

“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”

“Right here? On the counter?”

“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”

“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”

“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.

“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”

Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”

“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”

“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”

“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”

His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”

“L-logan–”

“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”

You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”

With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you. 

“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”

He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble. 

“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”

“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”

Who had given him a damn script for this?

The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.

Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”

And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.

“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”

You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”

“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”

You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”

Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”

part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”

dividers by: @cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

[arolesbianism]

Thinks oh so hard abt raccoon au printing pod doomed yuri.... What if you were a robot in love with your fellow robot but your past human selves had to fuck it all up and murder eachother 🙄