#just completely ignoring that Scott told him to do it

[teddy-bear-d]

Currently rotating angsty Martyn from killing Scott in my head

[not-neverland06]

I don't know why I bite

Logan howlett x fem!reader

a/n: Had Mitski’s ‘I Bet on Losing Dogs’ on a loop while writing this, now I’m sad Inspired by the isle of dogs quote “I’m not a violent dog, I don’t know why I bite” BECAUSE OUCH (they’re both toxic, fair warning) bittersweet ending Summary: You've tried for so long to get Logan to accept you the way he does the others. You want so desperately to be someone who means something to him. But he doesn't want you, maybe he never has. And you both seem to be stuck in this loop of hurting each other.

You’re stability, security, but you’re never comfort. Try as you might, you just can’t get Logan to accept you. You want to. So desperately, you want to be something good for him. But he hates you, or at the very least, he can’t stand you. 

You don’t know what it is about Jean that he craves, but you wish you could replicate it. You’re not your friend, though, you never will be. And it’s pathetic, trying to change yourself to make someone else happy. You’ve never done that before. Yet, there is something about Logan that you want so desperately to help. 

You clean his wounds, metaphorically because he’s never once needed anyone for that. You lift him up after a rough mission and you remind him that the team does need him. They do love him. They want him in that uniform beside them, even Scott. 

You have your suspicions that he doesn’t appreciate your efforts. He’s never outright said anything to you. But you can tell the novelty of your kindness is wearing off. He used to brush your efforts off with a simple look. 

But he’s begun to be mean, saying these little things that you can never completely call out. A lot of what he says is based in truth. “Do you ever stop talking?” No, you don’t. You like talking with your friends, like sharing stories, and laughing together. 

“Has anyone ever told you to fuck off?” Yes, and it hurt. And it continues to hurt. “Why don’t you just shut up for once?” You can’t. You can’t because if you stop talking, if you stop distracting yourself then you’ll actually feel everything. You can’t stop talking, you can’t stop taking care of others because you cannot take care of yourself. You’re incapable of it. 

You can’t say that he’s being rude or mean. He’s just being blunt, and gruff, that’s just how he is. That’s what everyone tells you. They tell you to just ignore when he’s being a dick because he doesn’t really mean it. That’s just what he does because he doesn’t know any other way. 

You shouldn’t have listened. You shouldn’t have placed so much faith in others. You should have just left him alone. Maybe then he wouldn’t have snapped, wouldn’t have said such cruel things to you. 

It broke you a little inside. Hearing what he really thought of you. Despite it all, despite the cruel words and harsh attitude, you had hope. You thought they were all right, that he just needed to warm up to you. And you so desperately just wanted to be something for him to lean on because you’ve never had that before and you know what it feels like to be so lonely. 

“Hey, Logan.” You step into the kitchen, rooting around in the fridge for something to snack on. “Weren’t there apples in here?” You’re talking aloud, but it’s meant for yourself. 

It’s that moment that it all finally comes crashing down. This pathetic illusion that he wants anything to do with you or your friendship. It almost makes you laugh, that this mundane moment is when you feel your heart shatter in your chest. When you get so sick to your stomach your bones ache and your limbs tingle with this odd phantom pain. 

“Could you just shut up?” his voice is low as he leans over the counter. His fingers spin idly around the neck of a beer bottle. You wonder how he managed to sneak it in here, Charles has banned alcohol. You watch the condensation collect on the cracks of his palm and shrug the pain off. 

You’re used to this. This is normal. “Right,” you squeeze past him and look in the pantry. “Sorry,” you whisper, if you speak any louder your voice will crack and that will just make everything worse. 

“You’re just always around, aren’t you?” You glance over your shoulder at him but you don’t respond. Deny it as much as he wants, you have gotten to know him. You recognize the tells. 

He’s had a bad day, he needs a way to get it out of his system. You just happened to walk into the kitchen at the wrong time. It could be anyone he snaps at, but today it’s you. Which seems to be happening more often. 

You do what you did when you were a kid, eyes forward, face flat. You keep yourself neutral, let yourself sink into that apathetic place so whatever he yells at you doesn’t hurt. “You tiptoe around me, act like I’m this wounded stray you need to fix.” 

Your brows pinch in confusion and you shake your head. Second mistake. You shouldn’t have walked into the kitchen in the first place. And you definitely shouldn’t have argued. “No, Logan, that’s not true-”

Although, maybe he has a point. You can’t fix yourself so you try and fix him. 

“I don’t know why they keep you around. You contribute nothing, you do nothing for any of us. We can’t even take you out on the field,” his voice begins to raise and you find yourself backing into the cabinets, hating the way this is beginning to make you feel. “You’re so fucking sensitive we can’t trust that you won’t just kill us all if something goes wrong! You don’t deserve a spot on this team!”

You jump back as he shouts at you, hip jamming into the corner of the island so hard you have to bite your lip so you don’t make a noise. Spit flies from the corners of his mouth, the ferocity of his voice and words are that strong. 

You take in a few quick breaths, blinking the sting out of your eyes and focusing on the wall behind him. “Get it through your thick fuckin’ skull,” he warns, his voice quieter now. “I don’t want you around. Leave me alone.”

You don’t cry, you can’t cry. You don’t speak because you’re afraid of what other cruelties that might provoke. Maybe you would understand all this if you’d been bugging him when he’d already made it clear he needed space. All you wanted was a fucking apple. 

You don’t feel much of anything as you slowly nod your head, not agreeing but appeasing. He watches you with something like surprise on his face. You don’t know that he’s wondering why you’re not saying anything back. 

It’s why he yells at you when he doesn’t know what to do. You can take it, you can put him in his place. But you’re not speaking and he doesn’t know why this time is so different. 

Finally, you turn on your heel and leave, footsteps soft as you retreat back to your room. Logan watches you go with an odd twisting feeling in his stomach. He didn’t think you could be pushed too far. You seem to always just have this endless patience. 

You treat him gently, even when the others get sick of the way he processes things. Today was hard, you just happened to be nearby. He didn’t mean half of what he said. He doesn’t know why he lashes out the way he does, he just doesn’t know what else to do. 

He doesn’t like it, contrary to what the others think. He doesn’t like hurting you or being mean to you. He doesn’t know what it is about you that provokes this side of him that no one else does. Maybe it’s because he’s afraid. He can’t say what he’s afraid of, he’s never been able to admit it to himself. 

He’s yelled at you plenty of times before. You don’t know what it is about that one day that was so different. Normally, it doesn’t bother you. You’ll set him straight or give him space. But today, it was needless. You weren’t doing anything. 

You didn’t deserve to be lashed out like that, cornered and scared in the place you call home. 

It was unprovoked and maybe it finally made you see him for what he really is. A bully. It doesn’t make sense, how he can be so kind and caring to Marie. How he can help Jean and Ororo so sweetly, but can’t muster one kind fucking word for you. 

You don’t let yourself cry, even though you want to. Even though there’s a cloying, suffocating feeling clawing its way up the back of your throat. His room is on the same hall as yours and you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing he made you cry. 

You, at the very least, finally stop asking yourself what you did wrong. Instead, you start to wonder what’s wrong with him. You get sick to your stomach, thinking about all the ways you cared for him. Remembering how much of yourself you gave up to make him happy. 

He was right about that, you are pathetic. He never deserved your help or your patience. You should never have offered him any grace. You’re embarrassed that you didn’t see it sooner. This isn’t a little boy pulling your pigtails because he likes you. This is a grown man who can’t regulate his emotions and decided you were the next best punching bag. 

You take in a few deep, shaky breaths and close your eyes until you’re forced to fall asleep. You don’t want to think or feel any of what just happened.

Logan hovers in front of your doorway for ten minutes before he heads downstairs. He’s got a class to run, he doesn’t have time to wait for you to wake up, he reasons. He’ll find you later and apologize then. 

It didn’t take a genius to realize he had gone too far yesterday. Even if you could take his usual level of dickishness, you didn’t deserve it. He just didn’t know what to do around you. You made him confront so many different conflicting emotions. It’s like every time he looks at you his brain is being ripped in twenty different directions and he doesn’t know what to do. 

You’re so endlessly patient and gracious. It makes him realize he wants to be a better man and he can’t be. He resents you slightly for that. For having such a wonderful idea of what he could be, even though he knows he can never be that man.  

He doesn’t find you that day. He makes up enough excuses that he goes to bed promising himself he’ll apologize tomorrow. Which he never does. Because actually saying it would be an admittance that he knows what he did was wrong. And what does that make every other time he’s yelled at you? What does that make him?

It returns to the same cycle it always does. He waits a few days until things are cooled down and you’ll have already forgotten about it. He starts to feel overwhelmed and he goes to find you because you always know what to do. And if you don’t, then you provide an outlet. 

He spots the back of your head in the gardens. You’re with Jean and he expects the usual dirty look she gives him after you’ve both fought. Instead, she smiles warmly at him and waves. Which is odd, usually you tell her about what’s happened between the two of you and she holds the grudge longer than you do. 

You glance over your shoulder, a small smile on your lips, to see who she’s waving at. Logan sees the way it falls when you see him and his steps falter. You never do that, you always look so happy to see him. 

“Jean,” he greets curtly, eyes on you. 

She says hello and they both look to you. Normally, you would have already spoken. But you don’t, you turn your eyes to the kids. Jean frowns and turns back to him, “Everything alright, Logan?” 

He can’t take his eyes off of you. You read his moods, and know them better than he does. You should have already offered to talk. Maybe he really does need to apologize. The thought leaves a sour taste in his mouth. 

He says your name and your brows just barely raise in question, though you couldn’t seem less interested. “Need to talk to you.”

You shrug, “Sorry, can’t. I’ve got a meeting to get to.” You brush past him and walk back into the mansion. He and Jean both watch you go, each of them shocked by how dismissive you were. That’s never happened before. 

“What the fuck did you do?” Jean demands, the smile gone from her face and her tone deadly. She glares at him, clearly expecting an answer. But he doesn’t have one. Because this is something he’s done a million times and this has never happened. He doesn’t know what’s gone wrong. 

He thought your absence would be a relief. After a few more days he begins to realize that he was wrong. He thought that not having someone constantly badgering him to be better and set good examples for the kids would be a relief. 

There’s no one nagging him. No one forcibly checking on him after a mission when he doesn’t need it. No one to care. 

There are chunks of his day that you would normally fill that now seem to drag on. Lunches are quiet without you constantly rambling about nothing in his ear. When there’s friction among the team and they’re ganging up on him, you remain silent. He supposes he should be grateful. 

You finally listened to him for once. But he’s angry. He always seems to be angry and he doesn’t understand why. There is so much of his mind and life that was stolen from him. He wonders if he got any of it back if it would explain why he is the way he is. 

It doesn’t matter because it wouldn’t fix what he can’t undo. He sees you with the others constantly. You’re always laughing, always happy. Like nothing’s happened. Like you haven’t cut him out of your life completely. And then, when you’re around him, it’s like a switch is flipped. 

You’re irritatingly silent. Practically a brick wall. He pokes and he prods, using every weapon in his arsenal to try and provoke a reaction from you. But you give him nothing. 

There is an ache in his chest when he sees the way your smile drops when he walks into a room. He doesn’t understand the feeling. This is exactly what he wanted. To be left alone. 

It feels so wrong. 

It happens in the kitchen again. Odd, that that’s become such an important place to you. 

Your back is to the entrance and you’re busy slicing up some fruit for yourself. You don’t hear him come in. Not until he speaks. “I’m-” you jump at the sound of his voice. Whirling around with a shocked look on your face. 

He chuckles a little at the reaction but when you don’t smile he stops. “I’m sorry,” he blurts out. It sounds semi genuine. But it also sounds like it hurt him to say. “I’m sorry, so can you please just stop ignoring me?”

You shrug and go back to cutting up the fruit. “I’m not ignoring you.”

“No?” He demands. “Then why don’t you talk to me? Why don’t we eat lunch together anymore? You can’t even fucking look at me.”

You slam the knife down on the cutting board, taking in a deep breath so you don’t do something you regret. Your nails dig into your palms, trying to center yourself. “I’m doing exactly what you wanted,” you utter, voice low. 

You turn just enough to make eye contact. “I’m leaving you the fuck alone. That’s what you wanted right? I don’t think I could have misheard while you were screaming it at me.” You turn to leave, abandoning your fruit because you don’t have an appetite anymore. 

“I didn’t mean it,” he whispers before you can make it out of the kitchen. “I,” he stops and starts again, “I miss you. I’m not a mean person, I don’t know why I hurt you.”

You stare at him, face unflinching. You give him nothing and he knows it's what he deserves. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I’m not asking for it-”

“Good,” you cut him off with a disgusted sneer. “Because I’m not looking to hand it out. Especially not to you. You only want me because you miss what I do for you. You don’t deserve my forgiveness. You don’t deserve me.” You turn on your heel and walk away from him, unwilling to entertain any more conversation. 

This is what you’ve always done. When someone hurts you, really irrevocably hurts you, they’re gone. They’re gone from your life. From your mind. More importantly, your heart. You don’t have any obligations to entertain him or speak with him outside of professionalism. 

You thought cutting him out of your life would hurt more. But it’s like you can breathe for the first time in months. You’re no longer striving to gain someone’s approval. You’re not chasing after something you’ll never catch. 

You can find happiness within yourself. Begin to do the things you would do for him, for you. It’s a relief. And a little sobering. Perhaps, in your mission to help him, you’d burdened him with the desires you had for yourself. 

You believe that you’re unfixable. You believe there are facets of yourself that are too dark to face. That you are undeserving of love and kindness. You recognized those things in Logan and tried to force on him what you’ve always wanted for yourself. 

It was wrong. A mutually toxic relationship that never would have made it far had anything actually happened between you two. You can’t paint yourself the victim and you never meant to. It’s why you didn’t tell anyone what happened between the two of you. 

They wonder, of course, why you no longer spend lunches together. Why you no longer rush to defend him when he doesn’t need the help. Why you don’t smile around him anymore. There are questions that you deflect. Saying, you just needed space from each other. 

Your harm was a silent one. Forcing him into a mold he was never going to fit in. Despite the claims of loneliness, you can see the way your absence benefits him. He’s calmer, less likely to yell when provoked. He just needed the space to find himself. Not to have someone try and make him something new. 

You feel an ache in your chest when you think about how differently things could have been had you just let him be. If you had let things happen between the two of you naturally then maybe you really could have been something great. 

A month goes by without speaking to each other. After that day in the kitchen, he seems to understand that there’s no putting back together what was broken. It was already cracked to start with, the break was inevitable. 

You warm slowly to him. Give him polite greetings when you see him. And he smiles at you sometimes, on the jet when Scott says something ridiculous, or just in passing. It’s nice, being a stranger to him. It’s comforting. 

“We need to stop meeting like this.”

You look up from the paperwork in front of you and give Logan a small smile. He’s hovering in the entrance to the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for your permission. “Hi,” you say softly.

He takes that as the go-ahead and walks in, heading for the fridge. You listen to him rummage around before he pulls out a beer. “Where do you hide those things?” You ask, and you almost bite your tongue. This is the most you’ve spoken to each other in a long time. It feels wrong to joke so easily. 

“Can’t tell you or Wheels is gonna stop me,” he grumbles. You just nod and turn your head back to your paperwork. It’s silent for a few minutes after that. He sits a little further down the island, nursing the beer while your pen scratches across the reports your students gave you. 

He clears his throat and you glance over at him from the corner of your eye. “I,” he starts but quickly closes his mouth. “Ah, forget it.”

Your brows pinch in confusion but you decide to leave it. You oddly don’t feel scared or anxious. You don’t worry that he’s going to snap at you if you provoke him. You choose not to because you’re not interested in engaging. 

You don’t really recognize the man before you. Maybe it’s because you never tried to get to know him before you tried changing him. It causes that familiar clenching feeling of guilt in your gut. 

You know if you gave him a chance things would be different. You could be friends, real friends. There’s a reason you latched so readily onto him. There’s a familiar pain in him that’s reflected back in you. 

You stand up, shuffling the papers into a neat stack and pushing your stool in. Logan straightens up as he watches you wash off your dishes and collect your items. Before you can make it out of the kitchen he’s standing from his chair. 

He stops in front of you, hand outstretched before him. “Logan,” he greets. 

You tilt your head in confusion, glancing between him and his hand before it finally clicks what he’s trying to do. Start over, reintroduce yourselves. Actually give each other chances to understand the other. 

This all started because you shared the same pain and you resented each other for it. But you could comfort each other instead. Be pillars of stability and strength in each other’s lives instead of trying to tear the other down so you don’t see yourself in them anymore. 

You were both too afraid to face who you truly are and it nearly destroyed you. But this is a stranger in front of you. You don’t know this man, but you think you’d like to. You give him your name and shake his hand firmly. “Nice to meet you,” you whisper, a slight joke to your tone. 

He holds on for a second longer than he should, the breath rushing out of him like he hadn’t thought you would accept. You smile softly at him before you pass by to go upstairs. His hand lingers on your, skin tingling under your touch until you can no longer hold on. 

You don’t know what it means for you, this odd new truce between the two of you. But you won’t linger on that tonight. You’ll go to bed feeling comforted that for the first time since you’ve met him, Logan has made you happy. 

a/n: felt more like a diary entry than a fic, sorry lol

end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

General Taglist: @evasmlp

Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always ♡

[inkdrinkerworld]

Logan dating Scott’s younger sister? 👀

“He’s going to kill you if you’re late.” You gasp as Logan tugs you closer to him by the open halves of his flannel that you’ve neglected to button.

“Oh I’m just shaking.” He drawls, rolling his eyes at you as he buttons up the shirt.

You and Logan aren’t sneaking around, practically everyone in the mansion knows you’re together. Scott just has a hard time accepting that his ‘kid sister’ - his words - is dating.

“I gotta meet Anna Marie in like ten minutes Logan,” you slip back into your jeans, Logan’s groan coming soon after you tie the bottom of his shirt in a knot.

“I know, you’re gonna play dress up and I’m suffering sparring with Scott.” You roll your eyes, standing on your toes to kiss his cheek where he leans against the door frame.

“Can’t you be nice to my big brother?” You plead and bat your eyes at him but Logan knows your tricks.

His hands fall to your waist, his teeth nipping at your jaw. “Why can’t your brother be nice to me, huh?”

You laugh, holding onto his biceps. “Maybe because you defiled his sister and mark her up every night.”

Logan lifts you up, making you squeal much to his delight. “Oh I defiled you? You’re such a little shit.” You’re over his shoulder in a flash, Logan not caring a bit as he opens his bedroom door and walks out to the hall with you there.

“Logan, my head.” You squeal but you’re completely safe.

“Yeah s’full of crap.” He chuckles when you pinch his back, the kids in the hall not even bothered by the two of you.

Since you’d been dating, Logan had got a bit more playful. “I need to meet-“

Logan nods, “Anna Marie, yeah I know bub. I’m walking you over there.” He sets you down, hands brushing your hair back as you let the blood rush out of your head.

Anna Marie meets you right at the front door, “You’re gonna make her head explode, Logan. And then who would I go to the mall with?”

Logan rolls his eyes, fishing a cigar out of his pocket. Before he can light it, Scott is rounding the corner and smiling at you before frowning at Logan.

“I know you can’t do without her, but you’re almost thirty minutes late.”

You gasp, “Logan! I told you!”

He only shrugs, ignoring Scott completely. “You’re the reason I was late,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll see you for dinner yeah?”

You nod, kissing him quickly before Scott can react and scamper through the door with Anna Marie giggling behind you.

[jpnriikicore]

── super shy

paring stiles stilinski x mccall!reader, word count 1k, genre fluff, authors note ngl this is my fav writing piece i've done so far 🫶🏻( masterlist )

your standing on the bleachers during a lacrosse practice before tonight’s game. as your a photographer for the year book club you decided to take a few pictures of the lacrosse team for the page that was going to be dedicated to them.

you zoomed your lens in on one player in particular, stiles stilinski. he was talking with the coach - well, more like arguing which wasn’t unusual for the two. you snap a few pictures of him. truth be told, you had a crush on stilinski since fourth grade finding the boy's humor and sarcasm charming.

as he gets back into line to continue to practice he notices you and waves at you. you back away from the camera shyly waving back at him.

you sit down on the bleachers searching through your bag to find a different lens. you were too busy with finding the lens that you completely ignored the sound of someone walking up the bleachers.

"you coming to the game tonight?" his voice slightly startled you as you look up at him. he knew that it was a stupid question. you came to every single game, but he got to nervous and just asked the first question that came to his mind.

he was always incredibly nervous in front of you. either he’s to shy to talk to you which like never happens when talking with anyone else. if you asked everybody else in the school if stiles was talkative or not they would reply that stiles never shuts up. or he would ramble on about the most stupidest topics. well, he believed that it was stupid, but you didn’t you find it to add to his charm and personality.

"yeah!" you nodded looking up at him.

"stilinski!" coach yelled grabbing the attention of the two teenagers.

"see you there," he pointed finger guns at her. she smiled at the playful action. "i-i gotta go get back to practice." he pointed with his thumb behind towards the field.

"yeah, okay. see you at the game stilinski."

luckily, stiles wasn’t on the bench anymore and actually got to play. you sat down on the bleachers next the sheriff and your mom, melissa. like normal game day your wearing braids with red ribbons and a red sweater due to the cold weather with the number '11' on the back to support your brother.

you bought your camera to take a few more pictures. though you tried to take pictures of all of the players fairly for the yearbook you couldn’t help, but notice that the majority of the pictures you took was of stiles. you put your camera down to focus on the game happening in front of you. you looked over to the scoreboard taking notice that beacon hills was winning a few points ahead.

stiles glanced over at you and now is completely emerged about the thought of you. his mind wasn’t focused on the game by any means. you looked too alluring making all his interest go on you. the wind moves a few pieces of your hair that managed to get loose from your braids that exposed '24' painted in red on your cheek. it was a small subtle thing, but it made butterflies irrupt in his stomach.

he managed to get his focus back on the game after getting snapped back into reality by scott. he threw the ball into the net scoring the last point for beacon hills to win. while the other players celebrated he searched for you in the crowd that formed on the field.

you snapped a few more pictures of the players celebrating after the win before packing up your camera equipment which lead to you being one of the last ones to get off the bleachers. you walked through the crowd trying to find your brother to tell him congratulations.

stiles found you first though rushing up to you lifting you up from the ground spinning you around. in shock a few giggles escaped your mouth. a rush of excitement and adrenaline filled stiles as his body reacted before his mind could comprehend what he was doing. he kissed you.

"do you want to go on a date with me?" the words slipped without him thinking by the time he realized it was too late to backtrack his question. he swallowed nervously waiting for your answer.

"i would love to." you nodded, smiling up at him. you held his hand as you walk to the parking lot to your truck. you could tell your brother congratulations once he got home.

you chuck your camera equipment in the passenger seat through the rolled down window of the drivers seat. once you turns around to face stiles once again he trapped you between his body and the truck. his hand resting on the truck and the other carefully cradling your jaw. he leans in kissing you yet again. you melted into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. you could definitely get used to this.

"can i see the pictures you took?" he mumbled against your lips.

"yeah." you nodded reaching for the bag that sitting in the driver seat and unzips it getting the camera. you turn to him as you turn the camera on handing it to him. a bright smile paints his face.

"seems like you have a crush on someone." he teased, playfully pushing his shoulder on yours. you looks down in embarrassment kicking the small pebbles in the parking lot with you shoe.

"i've had a crush on you since fourth grade." you admitted lowly.

"i've had a crush on you since we met in the sandbox."

your face lit up at his confession. one night could truly change everything. at one point of tonight you was just childhood friends now you planned on going on a date next friday and kissed twice within the span of five minutes. what you believed was unrequited love for so many years turns out not to be as unrequited as what you believed.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

[mimimarvelingmarvel]

time bound part nine

pairing: worst wolverine!logan howlett x f!mutant!reader

Part Nine - Masterlist

summary: Y/n’s life takes a dramatic turn when the Time Variance Authority intervenes, pulling her from a critical moment in her timeline. The TVA sends her to the void where she eventually meets with Deadpool and a very familiar face. With Deadpool's universe in the balance, alongside his reluctant would-be pal, Wolverine, and the enigmatic time-bending mutant known as the Veil, the trio must complete the mission and save Deadpool’s world from an existential threat.

overall warnings: 18+, Fem!Reader, AFAB Reader, Use of Y/N, Her X-Men name is Veil, She/her pronouns, Swearing, Angst, Heavy Violence, Character Death, Deadpool (he’s his own warning), Hurt, Fluff, Angst, Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, TVA

word count: 1.5k

The sky is gradually surrendering to the encroaching darkness, the last remnants of daylight bleeding into deep purples and blues. The air is thick with the scent of pine and earth, the forest surrounding us alive with the subtle sounds of evening. 

Logan is almost at the beaten-up Honda, his steps heavy and slow, as if the weight of everything he carries is finally too much. I’m not letting him walk away this time—not without facing me, not without confronting the truth.

“Logan!” I call out, my voice cutting through the quiet of the forest. He doesn’t turn around, but I see the slight stiffening of his shoulders, a sign that he’s heard me. Still, he keeps walking, as if he can somehow ignore the confrontation he knows is coming.

“Logan, stop!” I demand, my voice louder now, edged with the frustration I’ve been holding back for too long.

He pauses, one hand on the car door, his back still to me. The silence stretches between us, thick and suffocating.

“Why are you doing this?” I ask, my voice trembling slightly despite my efforts to keep it steady. I take a step closer, closing the distance between us. “Why are you shutting me out? You’ve been different, Logan. You’re not the same.”

He finally turns to look at me, his face shadowed in the fading light, his eyes dark and unreadable. “What do you want me to say?” His voice is rough, like gravel grinding together, full of exhaustion and something else—something darker.

“I want you to talk to me!” I snap, my anger flaring. “Logan. I’m still here.”

He exhales sharply, his breath visible in the cooling air. “You don’t understand,” he mutters, shaking his head as if trying to dismiss the conversation altogether.

“No, you’re right—I don’t understand,” I shoot back, stepping closer until I am right in front of him, forcing him to meet my gaze. “Because you won’t let me. You used to be someone I could rely on. But now...now it’s like you’re just waiting for the end.”

He looks away, his jaw clenched tight, his hands balled into fists at his sides. “Maybe I am,” he says quietly, the admission hanging heavy in the air.

“You’re a good man, Logan,” I say, my voice softer now, but still filled with the emotion I’ve been holding back for too long.

He turns his head slightly, just enough for me to see the haunted look in his eyes. “I’m the worst Wolverine,” he replies, his voice rough, laced with self-loathing. “You heard Wade.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” I snap, stepping closer, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sorrow. “You’re my Wolverine.”

His grip tightens on the car door, his knuckles white. “They’re all dead because of me! This suit is all I have left. It killed me, as best as anything could, Y/n! Scott used to beg me to wear it. You all did. You wanted me to be part of the team, and every time, I told you all how fucking ridiculous you looked. I couldn’t have you guys thinking I wanted to be there. And then the humans came hunting, and by the time I stumbled home shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead, every last one. I looked everywhere for you—your room was completely destroyed, and I could smell your blood, but I couldn’t see you. I thought I had lost you forever—my soul died that day with you.”

His raw pain cuts through me like a knife, tears welling up in my eyes as I listen to him. He turns to face me fully now, and I see the tears streaming down his face, mixing with the dirt and blood that smears his skin.

“And seeing you alive now?” He continues, his voice breaking. “I don’t know what to do, feel happy you’re here? I can’t forget that everyone else is not. This suit’s all I got to remind me of who they were. And what I did.”

I’m crying now, trying hard to fight back the sobs that threaten to overtake me. I take a shaky breath, searching for the right words.

“You can’t possibly put that all on you,” I say, my voice trembling. “Logan, I can see the fucking future. I should have seen it coming, found a way to end it all, but I couldn’t. And then the TVA sent me here, and maybe I didn’t die with them, but it felt like it. I may never get to see our world again. I thought I’d never see you again, and for the longest time, I assumed you had died with them. But you alone couldn’t have saved them, you may be unkillable, but they weren’t.”

I move closer to him, tears streaming down my face as I look up at him, trying to make him understand. “Please don’t blame yourself. The monsters that killed them? That’s who we blame.”

He flinches at the word “monster,” and I see the tears in his eyes, his pain laid bare. I reach up, cupping his cheek gently, my thumb brushing away a tear.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t do more,” I whisper, my voice cracking. “But I’m beginning to realize that nothing could have saved it.”

He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch for a brief moment before pulling away, the pain still etched deeply in his features. “If they had found you, you would have been dead too,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” I reply, my voice steady despite the tears. “I know. But I would have died to save all of them, to save you. I know what it feels like now, to hold my whole world in my hands, and be unable to do anything to protect it from the hurt and pain.”

He looks at me, confusion flickering in his eyes, not realizing that I’m talking about him, about us.

“But Wade?” I continue, my voice firmer now. “His world can be saved, we can save it. I’d do anything to have that opportunity, and have people help me. So tomorrow morning, I’m going with them.”

I take a step back from him, my heart heavy with the weight of what I’m saying. “I hope you do too.”

Logan doesn’t say anything at first. He just stares at me, his expression unreadable as I begin to walk back toward the house. But then, in a swift movement, I feel his hand grasp my wrist, and before I can react, he pulls me into his chest, wrapping me tightly in his arms. His hold is firm, almost desperate, and he tucks his head into the crook of my neck, as if seeking solace in my presence. My arms instinctively wind around his torso, fingers gripping the edge of his suit as if anchoring us both in this moment.

We stand like that for what feels like an eternity, a silent exchange of everything we can't put into words. The world around us fades away until the sound of soft footsteps shuffling behind us breaks the silence. Reluctantly, I pull away, turning to see Laura standing there, her eyes reflecting a mix of emotions.

“You look so much like them,” she whispers, her voice barely audible.

I blink, confused by her words. “Like who?”

“My parents,” she elaborates, her voice laced with a quiet reverence.

I feel a pang in my chest. She’s told me about Logan being her father, but she’s never mentioned her mother before.

“I know you don’t want me to talk about your variant, but she was my mom. She meant the world to me.” Laura’s words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I feel my heart drop to my stomach.

“I don’t want to hear about my variants because I don’t want to know what I could have been,” I admit, my voice shaky.

Laura shakes her head, her gaze steady. “You aren’t them. I know that. You should too. You’re not more or less than any other version of yourself.” She turns her attention to Logan, her eyes softening. “And you’re not the worst Wolverine. My dad was flawed—he made mistakes. My mom never let him get away with it, but they were always there for each other. She died before he did, and it crushed him. When my dad died saving me, I was never the same. But they got to be together in their lifetime, and after.”

She looks between us, her voice filled with a quiet intensity. “I got to have a life because of you. I got to grow up because of you. You’re both so similar, but so different from them. Don’t compare yourself to others. You’re your own person in every universe.”

With that, Laura walks away, leaving me standing there, overwhelmed by the weight of her words. Bewilderment and heartache swirl within me, as I process everything she said, the night air thick with emotions too complex to unravel.

Next Part

A/N: We finally got some communication! Yay, not everything has been said yet, but it’s a start.

taglist: @oscarissac2099 @somiaw @100percentlazybonez @obsessedwthdilfs @sun7lowxr @corvid007

[jellieland]

Gem Cleo watches Scott leave. He's throwing wary glances over his shoulder at the tower that has what looks to her like a big red curly moustache on it.

It's always nice to see him, and this is a bit different to their usual encounters, which is really refreshing every now and then.

She pulls out the pufferfish he gave her and smiles at it brightly. "Hey there little guy!" She says. It stares back at her with unblinking black eyes.

"Dunno if you can call me a little guy when you're on a team with Bdubs, but sure, hey Cleo!"

She startles slightly. It's Martyn. He's not actively stabbing her, and apparently they're allies, so she turns to face him without much concern. "Hello Martyn!"

He's leaning against the rocky wall of the clock tower. He grins at her, and for a split second, his gaze flashes over to where Scott is disappearing into the trees across the river. "You still remember that thing I told you about last time, right?" He asks, giving her a meaningful look.

"Oh, yes, of course, absolutely!" She nods enthusiastically. "How could I forget!" It's funny, no-one else has really prodded at the details of Cleo's, uh, "amnesia cold", as much Martyn, although he's for sure just completely making things up to ask her about.

He looks highly amused. "Right, right, good. Just checking."

He glances over at the treeline again.

"So!" He says, and it's so very casual that it's a little bit concerning, "Don't suppose you'd let me know if Cleo's listening along or not?"

"Martyn!" She exclaims. "I'm-"

"Yeah, you are Cleo, I know, I know. Just." He pauses.

There's something in his eyes, suddenly, that gives Gem the impression that if she says the wrong thing here, something will be lost. She can't tell what, or why, or how. But it's a feeling she can't quite ignore.

After a second, Martyn shakes himself slightly and continues. "Actually, you know what, it doesn't matter. I-"

"No. She's not." Gem watches curiously as he goes very still. "I'm gonna tell her about it later, though."

"Huh." He says. It sounds very nonchalant. "Right. Well. Don't suppose I could tell you a secret, then?" He gives her a conspiratorial look. "Just you, I mean."

Gem leans in a little, intrigued despite herself. "I shouldn't..."

"Oh come on, you know you want to."

"Weeeeell..." She jumps in place a couple of times, and then nods quickly. "Alright, go on then!" He opens his mouth, and she quickly raises a finger to point at him, narrowing her eyes. "But! If it's something Cleo would want to know, I do have to tell them. It wouldn't be fair otherwise."

He considers for a moment, and nods. "Sure, seems fair enough to me. Trust me, though, Cleo would not want to be bothered by this. They have better things to worry about."

"I'll be the judge of that!" She pauses for a moment. "Because that's me." Another beat. "Because I'm Cleo."

He chuckles. "Well, Cleo, I just wanted you to know that I get it now." He says, lightly.

A few seconds pass.

"Um. Ok?" She says, because he seems to be waiting for her to respond. "Uh, I mean." She goes back to her perfect and beyond reproach Cleo impression. "Right. I understand what you're saying completely, Martyn."

He raises an eyebrow, grinning. "Well that's impressive. And here I thought I was being pretty cryptic."

"Oh. Um, I mean, what are you talking about? Explain yourself!"

He laughs, expression almost nostalgic. "Ah, I just meant I get why you chose him, last time." Once more, he looks over at where Scott disappeared from view. This time, he doesn't look back.

Gem frowns a bit, and stays silent. It feels wrong to speak.

"I wondered about that a lot, you know." He sounds vaguely wistful. "But I get it, now."

There is quiet for few more seconds before Martyn looks back at her, and the spell is broken.

He looks cheerful. There's nothing in his expression to suggest that he isn't.

"I think it's mostly that you and him are the only two on the server who have the slightest bit of common sense, honestly." He says. Something suddenly seems to occur to him, and he snorts. "Pretty sure he's alright at math, too."

"Oh, really?"

"...You know, I'm not sure actually."

He meets her eyes. His are just starting to turn the bright red of danger, the colour creeping in at the edges of the blue.

"He keeps his allies alive." He says. "For as long as he can. Even when it hurts him. Wasn't even a choice for you, really, when you consider that."

There's obviously something here she doesn't understand, but what exactly it is she doesn't know. "Good for him." She says awkwardly.

"It's not, really." He says.

"Oh. Um. Bad for him?"

He laughs at that. "Sort of, yeah." He looks down at the pufferfish she's still holding. "Alright for you though, right?" Before she's decided how to respond, he continues. "I just thought you'd like to know that if I were you, I would've chosen him too."

Gem frowns at him. There's something here. There's something here, but while she can certainly guess, she just doesn't have the context to know what that something is.

She listens to the noises of the river for a while before she speaks.

"Are you sure Cleo wouldn't want to know that?" She asks softly.

To his credit, he does appear to consider it, staring out over the river and frowning slightly.

After a minute, though, he looks back at Gem and shrugs. It almost looks resigned.

"Cleo already knows." He says.

She opens her mouth, but he keeps talking.

"Plus she would not appreciate being reminded of how similar we are." He grins, his expression suddenly sly. "And anyway, I completely made all that up. That was a test to see how good you were at being Cleo, and you failed."

"Hey!" She yells indignantly. "What! No! That's so rude!" She draws her sword and he cackles, dancing back.

"Ha, you should've seen your face!"

She glares at him. "Why are you so good at acting, huh?"

He raises an eyebrow. "Aren't we all?"

"No!"

He snorts. "Yeah, I guess not. Just pure skill on my part, then."

Gem shakes her head at him, exasperated. How much of that was true, she has no clue. But if that's how he wants to play it, that's ok. "How about this: I won't tell Cleo about any of that so long as you don't try and mess with me again."

"What?" He gasps and claps a hand to his heart. "I thought you were Cleo!"

She narrows her eyes and raises her sword, and he hurries to continue, holding up his hands in surrender.

"By which I mean yeah, sure, sounds good to me am I right?"

"Good." She nods firmly. "That's what I thought you meant."

He nods back at her a couple of times, then starts to retreat towards the river, still facing her. "Well. See you, Cleo!"

"Bye! If you see Etho tell him to be afraid!" She shouts after him.

"Will do!"

And he disappears into the trees after Scott.

What an odd man.

She wonders if he knows that she wouldn't have told Cleo if he'd just genuinely asked her not to, without the deal or the confusion or the trickery. She's genuinely not sure if he realizes that.

She still doesn't know how much of all that was genuine.

She wonders if he does.

For some reason, she suspects not.

[mrschristensen]

Sam + Scott as Twins...

I know I haven't posted before, so... Hi! I wanted to possibly start writing on here, and see if anyone liked it. However, I will start by saying I don't write for specific people, I usually just write without "reader" or I write with my OC. I thought I'd just give it a try and see where it goes. So I hope you enjoy! <3

WARNINGS: female (the person who's getting fucked; not "y/n" or "reader" but you can imagine it), porn w no plot, no "established" relationship (until the end), incest (ish?), p in v, oral (m receiving), heavy mentions of breeding (+ birth control mentioned), creampie, degradation/dirty talk, praise, spanking/impact play, slight nipple play, backshots, pet names (baby, princess, honey, slut), aftercare, lmk if I missed any!

WC: 1,069 (haha 69)

"So you really are into both of us," SAM taunts as he drills into her from behind, making her lose his brother's dick from her mouth. He smirks victoriously as SCOTT grunts in frustration, yanking her upper body closer to him. His twin doesn't let that slide, however, gripping her hips even tighter and basically slamming her into him. Her cries of both pleasure and pain were music to his ears, smacking her ass and kneading it to watch it jiggle.

"Jus' lemme at least get the fucking tip in," SCOTT says with a hint of irritation, having to move forward himself now to get closer to her oh so heavenly face.

"How do her tits look?" Sam asks as he relentlessly continues his assault on her cunt, completely ignoring his brother's complaints. He was blinded by his drive for release and pure lust.

"Can't really see 'em from this angle," he replies, tapping her cheek with his throbbing cock head, signaling her to open her mouth.

SAM smacks her ass even harder, making her whine loudly at the feeling of the cold rings on his fingers colliding with her skin. "Arch your back more, slut," he commands, "wanna let him see those gorgeous tits all on display, hm?"

She does as she's told, holding onto SCOTT for dear life now. Her breasts bounced with each erratic thrust, taking at least half of his length as he moved forward a tad bit more, his eyes glued to her.

"That's it, good girl," he groans in praise, his hands tangling in her hair. "Make me feel so good."

"Look at you," SAM growls in her ear, bending down to her current position as he continues to pound her, "so pretty, all for us. Who knew you were such a naughty girl? Taking both of us at the same time..."

"And doing a damn good job at it," SCOTT pants, thrusting into her mouth at the same pace as his brother. Tears started to well up in her eyes, too far gone in pleasure to care.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," SCOTT warns, his movements becoming sloppier and more desperate.

"Hold on, 'm almost there," SAM says quickly, increasing his pace impossibly faster, making her moan and create noises of pleasure around his brother's cock. The vibrations got him even closer, knowing he can't hold on for much longer.

"She's close too, can feel it," SAM laughs, grabbing one of her tits and rolling the nipple between his fingers, "taking my cock so good. You gonna milk it, baby? Milk it for all my cum?"

She nods frantically, kissing SCOTT'S tip a few quick times before he shoves his member back into her mouth.

"Gonna be so full, huh?" SCOTT chimes in, smirking a bit.

"Fuck yeah she is," his brother replies, pounding her cunt even harder, "wish she didn't take that stupid birth control. Coulda made her a mommy."

Her walls clench at his dirty words, and he notices quite quickly. "You want that, huh? You want me to get you pregnant with my baby?" he chides, feeling on the brink of release. He could cum from just the thought. "Yeah you do, grippin' me like a fuckin' vice." He looks up at SCOTT. "She prolly wants to get swollen with our baby."

They both smirk at each other, keeping it in mind for another time.

"C'mon, princess," SCOTT encourages, "we're cumming together."

They both keep a fast pace as her muffled mewls are barely heard around his dick, and all three of them climax at the same time, both her pussy and her throat getting pumped with seed.

"Yes!" SAM grunts, both boys tilting their heads back in pleasure, slowly continuing to thrust.

After they come down from their highs, they look down at their girl below them, and the absolute mess her cunt made. Her and SAM'S thighs and some of his abdomen was drenched, as was the floor below. She definitely squirted. Just the simple fact that they brought her that pleasure just made them want to have a round two. But not now.

"Fuck, that was better than I thought it'd be," SCOTT pants, pulling out of her mouth gently and tilting her head up, her teary eyes meeting his blue. "You okay, love?"

She nods slowly, dazed by her intense orgasm, "Yeah... 'm okay."

He smiles a bit, leaning down to kiss her, tasting a slight it of his cum in her mouth.

Reluctantly, SAM pulls out and spreads her cheeks with his thumbs, watching his cum drip from her insides. The sight turned him on even more.

"Don't think I've ever came that much in my life," he comments with a deep chuckle, looking at his brother, "grab a plug from the drawer."

When she heard his words, her eyes widened slightly, but she didn't oppose it. She was on birth control, after all.

SCOTT grabbed a plug, one with a nice, shiny gem on it, and tossed it to SAM, who used his fingers to scoop up and fuck the cum back into her hole.

Still sensitive, she whined and bucked her hips, but he kept her in place, and SCOTT returned right in front of her, bringing her face up once more to keep her bent over for his brother.

"Shh, it's okay," he shushed, tracing her jawline as SAM finished his work and slowly inserted the plug into her pussy.

"You probably feel so good right now," he says with a snicker, bringing her up so now her back is against his chest. "Took us like a champ."

She hummed in content with a small, tired smile, resting her head on his chest as well. He leaned down and kissed her passionately, and SCOTT came in and lifted her by the legs, causing her to yelp.

The two of them just held her there for a few moments, basking in the afterglow together before laying down on the bed with her.

SAM massages her hips as she clings onto him, and SCOTT embraces her from behind, stroking her hair, all while they both give her kisses along her body.

"Wish this could last forever," she says quietly, sighing. The two boys then look at each other, and nod; they knew they wanted this too.

They lean in a bit more, their lips brushing against her ears. "Then let's make it last forever."

(sorry if this was bad!)

[cielcreations]

"Hung Up"

When Solidarity confessed his feelings to Tango, expressing his love and desire and asking the other on a date, Tango immediately said yes. He was so happy and excited, especially since he had been crushing on the other for what felt like years. They went on a couple of dates, smiling, laughing, getting to know one another, having fun.

"So, does this make us boyfriends?" Tango teased.

Solidarity blushed and smiled, going to say something before he paused. He seemed to remember something, then sighed, "Listen, I'm going to be completely upfront with you because I do want to be your boyfriend and stuff, but I have this... ex..."

"Is it a crazy stalker ex?"

"Not really. Just..." The dirty blonde tried to think of a way to word it, "He and I share a big friend group and he has convinced them that I'm apparently still hung up on him and that he was so kind to continue being my friend even though we broke up. Oh, and the reason I haven't dated anyone is cause I'm totally waiting for him to come back!" He groaned, visibly annoyed as sarcasm laced his voice, "Hell, he's convinced my siblings of this when he's the one calling me drunk in the middle of the night!"

"Why haven't you blocked him, if you don't mind me asking?" Tango questioned.

The dirty blonde sighed, "It's cause of the friend group we share. I've always been really awkward, so I just became friends with my siblings friends and then when I began dating Scott, my ex, I became friends with his friends. I don't really have a lot of my own friends and, if I block him, everyone would make it this big deal, like I broke the law or something and I just..." He sighed again, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to vent..."

"No, no, it's fine." The blonde reassured with a smile, gently putting a hand on his shoulder, "I understand. It's probably really annoying and frustrating and I'm guessing you don't have a lot of people to talk to about this."

Solidarity weakly nodded, "...I just don't want to rock the boat. Makes my anxiety shoot through the roof. If I just go with it, no matter how uncomfortable I am, it'll be fine."

Tango hugged him, "But that's not healthy, Soli..."

"I-I know, I know... I just don't know what to do..."

"We'll work on it, okay? First step to fixing a problem is acknowledging there is a problem, so you're on the right track already!"

Solidarity laughed before he hummed, "Anyways, all this to say that if we do start dating and you get these comments about how I'm supposedly not over Scott or how you're 'just a rebound', that's untrue and ignore it. Scott and I broke up in high school."

"Wait, wait, with how you talked about this, this sounds like a recent break up! You guys broke up in high school?"

"Yep. And trust me, I know." He sighed, "It's why I moved here, mainly to put some distance between myself and the friend group and my siblings. I don't want them to choose between Scott and I, but I just don't want to hear how hung up I apparently am or how I need to get back in the dating field or if I ignore Scott or don't do something for him, I'm holding a grudge!" He huffed.

Tango hugged him more, "Well, don't worry, I'm not one to take shit lying down! If they want to poke fun, I poke back but harder!" He giggled, "In the meantime, why don't I introduce you to my friends? It'll be good to meet new people, plus it will help to keep your mind of things!"

Solidarity smiled, "I'd like that."

The two became an official couple, Tango showing Solidarity off to all his friends. Solidarity asked Tango if he was okay with him waiting before he told his friends and siblings, Tango not minding. In the meantime, the dirty blonde fit right in with Skizz, Impulse, Zed, Bdubs, and Etho. With his clumsy, adorable but sweet attitude, it meshed well with the chaotic mess that could be Skizz and Zed in the same room. Solidarity also got along with Etho and Impulse, the three usually acting as the peacemakers when Tango and Bdubs joined in on whatever chaos Zed and Skizz tried to bring. It was overall a great thing and Tango could see his beautiful boyfriend seemed to glow even more. It was like a dark cloud he noticed that was always over Solidarity's head seemed to finally disappear, especially since he's been on his phone or computer less, talking to that friend group less.

One night, the group were all at Impulse's house, sharing a few drinks and laughs, when Solidarity's phone buzzed. He hummed, a bit tipsy as he answered the phone without checking the caller ID.

"Hello-" He paused and his face fell immediately. He looked at Tango, who looked at him, concerned. Solidarity then seemed to get an idea, eyes widening as he smirked, "Okay, wait one second, hold on!" He put the phone on speaker, leaning into Tango, "Can you hear me?"

"Yeaaaah?" A Scottish voice responded in a questioning tone.

"Okay, good." He then looked at the blonde, playing with his hair, "Tango, Light, could you introduce yourself to Scott for me?"

Tango's eyes widened before he smirked, taking the phone, "Hello Mr. Scott, my name is Tango Tek, aka light of Solidarity's life, aka his honey, aka his handsome man, aka his soulmate, aka his rancher, aka his boyfriend, and we are actually currently in the middle of making out so we would appreciate no more interruptions! I know it's been awhile for you, but I need Soli's soft lips on mine, it is quite addicting! To bad you can't experience it! Buh-byyyyyyyye~!" He hung up, everyone laughing as the blonde gave Solidarity his phone back and kissed his cheek.

"Who was that?" Zed asked.

Tango wrapped an arm around his boyfriend, "Crazy ex."

"Crazy stalker ex?" Etho prodded.

"Not stalker level yet." Solidarity reassured, "But definitely crazy ex. From high school."

"Yep, that'll do it." Bdubs joked, "Anyone need another drink? I'm heading to the kitchen."

The night continued and everyone slept over, seeing as they were not going to drink and drive. Tango and Solidarity shared the couch, the dirty blonde acting as Tango's blanket as they cuddled and slept together. So, it made it very obvious when Solidarity got off the couch, causing the blonde to stir as his weighted blanket was no longer there. He sat up, glancing around before hearing something outside. Tango walked outside and saw Solidarity, very clearly frustrated, tears in his eyes with the tension in his body.

"...Did you ever think that maybe, just maybe, i didn't tell you guys for this exact reason?!" Solidarity yelled, "...Yeah, you're my brother, and yet you constantly choose Scott over me! Don't-! ...No, you can't even say that, don't you dare say that! I've told you repeatedly that Scott makes me uncomfortable, that I don't like him being around, and you, with everyone else, brushed me off because I 'have to get over him!'" The dirty blonde said in a mocking voice with air quotes.

He was silent, before hissing out, "He called me! The only reason you all now know I'm dating is cause Scott can't get over the fact I moved two hours away from everyone and refuse to give him my address or pick him up when he goes out drinking! I was going to tell you all on my time, but of course, Scott ruined it because he fucking ruins everything! So, yes, I am dating someone! Okay?! Happy?! Bye!" He hung up.

Tango moved and hugged him, Solidarity leaning into him. The blonde rubbed the other's back, feeling Solidarity shake in frustration as his tears stained Tango's shirt. Tango cooed and rubbed circles into his back, kissing his forehead.

"I'm so sick of him..." The dirty blonde murmured.

Tango nodded, "Do you want me to block him for you?"

"No, it-"

"I can be the bad guy. If he complains, tell him and his flying monkeys that I feel uncomfortable with your ex trying to talk with you."

Solidarity hummed, "Later... Just hold me now..."

Tango hugged him tighter, "Gladly."

After everyone had woken up and began eating breakfast, Tango took Solidarity's phone, sending Scott a text and prefaced it by saying it was him and how he didn't feel comfortable with Scott talking to Solidarity when they were together and to please not text or call him anymore before blocking him. When the two got home, Solidarity had gotten a bunch of texts from his brother and sister as well as mutual friends he had with Scott, all saying how they didn't know he was dating someone new, asking why he didn't tell them, and then asking why Tango blocked Scott.

"The more they talk, the more I just want to go no contact." Solidarity admitted, "It's always about Scott. If I don't help him, I'm an asshole holding a grudge over the breakup. If I do help, I'm still hung up. Blocking him for 'no reason' is not okay and I need to let go. I'm just so over this."

Tango took his phone and shut it off, "Okay, let's just forget about electronics for the day. How about we do something to get your mind off things?"

"Like what?"

Tango kissed his cheek, smiling, "We could go to the bedroom~?"

"Oh my god!" Solidarity laughed, "Trying to get in my pants when this is serious talk?"

"Serious does not mean important! Besides, it'll make sure your mind is only on me soooooo~?"

"You're ridiculous." The dirty blonde kissed his nose, smiling, "Let's go."

When Solidarity turned his phone on the next day, he sent a simple text to everyone.

Solidarity:  Yes, I'm in a new relationship, I have been for two months. I didn't say anything because I wanted to wait and get more serious. I also don't want to jeopardize this relationship. Out of respect for Tango, and myself, I'm going to ask you to stop trying to get me to talk with Scott. 

Of course, people tried to ask more questions, but he made another text, simply saying "I don't feel comfortable sharing anymore details. Please just respect my boundaries." Of course, some complained, but he just closed his phone, ignoring it.

"I think they're starting to see you've developed quite a backbone!" Tango encouraged.

"Thanks to you, really." The dirty blonde smiled, "I really like you and our relationship means more to me than that friend group. Time to actually prove it, I guess."

"I'm proud of you." Tango kissed his lips, "I know it's hard putting down boundaries and sticking up for yourself, but once you get used to it, it becomes easier."

Solidarity nodded, smiling.

***

Solidarity didn't introduce Tango to his brother and sister and the friend group for about a year. Tango respected his decision and understood why, judging from their reactions when the dirty blonde first blocked Scott, he wasn't sure they would even accept that Solidarity actually moved on. However, it was Christmas and Solidarity explained he had been skipping the past couple holidays because he knew Scott would be there and didn't want to deal with the inevitable.

"It's been a year and we've been together ever since. Why don't we give them a chance?"

Solidarity was hesitant, "...I don't know."

"Come on, please?" Tango hugged him, "I can handle myself just fine, love! And I can shut them down! You know I can!"

The dirty blonde hesitated again before he sighed, "The moment I feel uncomfortable and ask you to pack your stuff, we leave."

"Of course!"

So, they made their way to Solidarity's brother's house, two hours away. Solidarity tapped anxiously on the steering wheel, biting his bottom lip.

"It's okay, we'll be fine." Tango reassured, able to see the other white-knuckling the steering wheel.

"I-I just-!" He took a deep breath, "I know Scott is probably going to be there and he's going to mention our high school days a lot." 

Tango shrugged, "Okay?"

"We used to call ourselves 'Flower Husbands' because we were teenagers exploring our sexuality or how he was my first relationship or how he was my first kiss or how he was my first whatever else." The dirty blonde rolled his eyes, sighing, "He's just going to try to embarrass me or make you jealous or something else."

"Was he your first? In, like, the bedroom department?"

Solidarity blushed darkly, "T-TANGO!"

"Yes or no?"

"I-I already told you, you were my first- oh..." The dirty blonde chuckled, "You are going to use that, aren't you?"

The blonde snickered, "Of course! I'll just mention how I deflowered one of the Flower Husbands and maybe it'll shut him up!"

"Idiot." Solidarity teased.

They continued talking and laughing, having an amazing time as they distracted themselves while driving. Eventually, they pulled up to the house and Solidarity sighed, taking a deep breath. There were a couple of cars already crowding the driveway, so Solidarity just parked in the grass. Tango was the first to step out, but the dirty blonde didn't move. He went to the driver's side, opening the door and kneeling down. He could see the other shaking a bit, biting his bottom lip anxiously, tapping his fingers on the wheel.

"It's okay." Tango reassured, cupping his face, "Soli, it's fine. You know me, I won't get jealous or feel threatened or whatever, no matter what anyone says."

"I-I know, I just..." Solidarity leaned into his touch, closing his eyes as he shook a bit, "I'm not worried about you..."

"Excuse me?"

Tango turned, seeing a brunette woman standing on the porch.

"Can I help you?" She asked, "Are you lost? This is private property."

"Uh, no, I'm not lost! Hi, I'm Tango, Soli's boyfriend!" Tango explained, standing up.

"'Soli?'" She repeated, confused.

"Solidarity?" Tango explained, "I-I call him Soli!"

Solidarity hesitantly got out of the car, Tango hovering over him. He shut the car door and smiled, but the man could see the anxiety written on his face still. Solidarity took Tango's hand in his, the blonde squeezing reassuringly.

"Hi Pearl." Solidarity smiled, relaxing a bit as he motioned to the blonde, "This is Tango. My boyfriend for a year and three months."

"Four months, really! I just wanted to take you out on a lot of pre-boyfriend dates!" Tango argued.

"Don't tell on yourself, Tango, my sister will think you're a coward for waiting a month to officially ask to be my boyfriend." The dirty blonde teased before looking at Pearl, "It's good to see you."

The brunette laughed, "Awww, you both are cute. It's nice to meet you Tango!" She walked over, hugging her brother, "And good to see ya, Jim. Come on! We're still waiting on a couple of people!"

They walked inside and Solidarity introduced Tango to Grian, his brother, and then some of the people in the friend group. Gem and Fwhip (who were twins), Joel and Lizzie (a married couple), Cleo, Scar, and Mumbo. All were polite, introducing themselves.

"Other people will be coming, but it's good to finally meet Solidarity's secret boyfriend!" Joel teased, raising an eyebrow, "Scott will be coming, hope it won't make you uncomfortable." He said in a nice tone, but Tango and Solidarity knew he was mocking the blonde.

Solidarity narrowed his eyes slightly, annoyed.

However, Tango just smiled, "Actually, it'd be great to meet the person who drunk called at two am and immediately hung up when I answered!" He said in the same nice voice before he looked at the dirty blonde, fake gasping, "WAIT! Do you think he hung up cause he had a crush on me?! Oh my god, Soli, I'm not prepared, where's the bathroom! I need to make myself presentable!"

Everyone laughed besides Joel, who narrowed his eyes a bit. Solidarity looked at Joel, took Tango's hand and kissed the blonde's cheek before pulling him to the couch. Everyone either caught up with Solidarity or got to know Tango better. Occasionally, either Fwhip or Joel would slip in a snarky comment about Tango blocking Scott or feeling uncomfortable with Scott, but disguised it as playful banter. Tango never took the bait, laughing it off or giving it right back.

At one point, he asked Joel, "Oh, so Lizzie must still talk to her exes, right? Seeing as you're so interested in Soli talking to his!"

Joel actually seemed shocked by this, responding, "Uh, no? Why would she? We're married, I wouldn't want her doing that."

"Huh, weird that you wouldn't want your wife talking to her exes." Tango looked at Solidarity, "I couldn't imagine that."

"Me either." Solidarity hummed, looking at Joel, "Anyways, what were you saying about Scott?"

That seemed to be the moment Joel sort of backed off. Fwhip still tried to get under Tango's skin, but Solidarity knew his boyfriend was a master of "not giving a shit". He watched Tango take whatever was thrown at him and either laughed it off or gave the same energy right back. He smiled and leaned into the other, happy.

However, after about an hour and a half, a couple more people arrived. Tango was introduced to Sausage, Martyn and Ren (a couple, Martyn being one of the ones who Solidarity actually talked to on a regular basis and who Tango immediately liked as the blonde whispered to him "Scott's a huge dick but has everyone wrapped around his finger, don't let him get to you or Timmy."), Big B, and Cub.

And, of course, Scott.

The man was last to arrive. He walked in and everyone, besides Solidarity, Tango, Martyn, and Ren, cheered, saying hi to him and giving him a hug. Scott laughed and hugged back before turning. He gasped as his eyes landed on Solidarity, smiling brightly.

"Dary, oh my god, it's been forever! How are you? It's so good to finally see you again!" He opened his arms to give the other a hug.

Tango could see his boyfriend stiffen up. So, he stepped in front of him and hugged Scott instead, "Hi! It's nice to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you from Grian, Joel, and Fwhip!" Scott pulled back, confused, but Tango held his hand, shaking it.

"Oh, uh, who are-?"

"It's such a pleasure to meet you! My name is Tango!" The blonde smiled innocently, "I'm Soli's boyfriend! We've been dating for a year and four months, not that anyone is counting."

"Three. You insisted on taking me on one month pre-boyfriend dates." Solidarity laughed.

"But we were still exclusive!" Tango turned around and gave Solidarity a hug, the dirty blonde happily returning it, "So that month counts!"

"You know what? It's Christmas, we'll let it count!"

"Yes!" The blonde cheered before he looked back at Scott, leaning into the dirty blonde. Solidarity wrapped one arm around his shoulders as Tango hugged his side, smiling at the other, "Anyways, yeah, it's so nice to finally meet you!"

Solidarity offered his other hand, seeing as the one was wrapped around Tango and too occupied for a hug, "Good to see you again, Scott."

Scott was obviously displeased, but smiled, shaking Solidarity's hand, "You too, Dary."

The man left to greet everyone else as Martyn and Ren walked towards Tango and Solidarity.

"Well damn, I like you." Martyn chuckled, whispering, "You sure know the rules of Scott's game."

Tango smiled innocently, "No idea what you're talking about."

Solidarity laughed, "Mar and I fake dated for awhile in hopes of Scott dropping the whole 'I'm hung up' shtick, and he's never acted like that."

"You got under his skin good." Ren complimented, the four looking at Scott, who was talking with Joel and Lizzie, "He's just going to step up his game."

"Good." Tango chuckled, "I hope so. Soli, how uncomfortable am I going to make everyone?"

"You have my complete consent to do whatever you want to do."

"Ohoho, that's dangerous, Love."

"It is for them, Light."

For the night, Tango stuck to Solidarity like glue, acting like the clingiest boyfriend in the world and Solidarity couldn't be happier with it. They mainly sat on the couch and talked with others, Scott moving to sit beside them occasionally. Because Solidarity was sitting against the arm rest and Tango was next to him, Scott simply sat on Tango's other side, even though he seemed a bit unhappy about it. The conversation flowed with people asking Solidarity how he was doing, if he would be visiting more, and asking Tango about his work, what he did, etc.

Scott would try to bring up something about an old date, but Tango would "accidentally" interrupt, telling a story about their first date or the time Solidarity taught Tango how to ice skate or the time Tango showed Solidarity a trick he knew on how to always win claw machines, even taking out his phone and gushing about the cat he and Solidarity adopted together that Solidarity named Norman.

"He loves naming animals human names, it's sooooooo cute!" Tango giggled before gasping, turning to look at Scott, "Oh, sorry, I hope you don't mind! I'm just so happy to finally meet everyone! I mean, Soli was so scared coming down here, thinking I wouldn't be accepted or fit in. I'm sure you've had to help him through an anxiety or panic attack before, right!"

Scott stared, "No, actually, I haven't."

"Oh, really?" Tango asked, faking confusion because he knew the answer.

"Wait, since when have you had anxiety, Solidarity?" Fwhip asked.

Gem elbowed him, "Dude. Not how you ask."

"It's cool Gem, I was only recently diagnosed so I don't blame him." Solidarity chuckled, smiling awkwardly before looking at Tango, "It was I think two months after I met you? So that's... what, two years?"

"That sounds about right." He looked at the rest of the group, smiling innocently, "He must've changed a lot since high school if no one noticed." He hummed, looking at Scott, "Poor thing was so nervous no one would like me! He was so scared no one would accept me because they all were hung up on you and your past relationship!" 

Scott narrowed his eyes a bit, Solidarity blushing as he let out a "T-Tango!"

Everyone laughed, either not noticing the slight accusation or choosing to ignore it, conversation continuing to flow. At one point, Solidarity had to use the bathroom, the man standing up to go. Tango playfully cried out an "Don't leave me!", the group continuing to laugh, talk, and joke.

"Oh, Tango, I have to ask-" Scott smiled innocently at the blonde, "-does Dary still get embarrassed over PDA? I swear, kissing him is like pulling teeth sometimes!"

"No, actually! He loves to share kisses with me! He's such a giver, it's adorable!" Tango giggled, smiling back innocently, "He's such a cuddler too, he's like a puppy sometimes!"

"I guess that makes sense. I was his first kiss after all, he was so embarrassed about it. I could hardly get him to stay still sometimes!" Scott had a sly smirk on his face, "Guess you can thank me for his confidence! He learned from the best!"

"Nah, it's thanks to me! After all-" He leaned towards Scott, whispering in his ear as he smirked, "-I was the first one to get him to spread his legs."

Scott blushed darkly, eyes widening.

"His entire body was red, he was so embarrassed the first time. But now? I can't keep up, half the time. You should see him on his knees, begging. He's so good at it. He really is like a dog." Tango pulled away, smiling innocently, "A good one! The best one!"

Before anyone could ask or say anything, Solidarity came back. He sat next to Tango, the blonde smirking at Scott. He grabbed the other's chin and pulled him in for a kiss, Solidarity kissing back with no hesitation, even wrapping an arm around his waist. When they pulled back, Tango leaned into him, Solidarity keeping his arm in it's place.

Solidarity laughed a bit, face turning red, "You're ridiculous!"

"You love it!"

Scott excused himself to the bathroom, Tango just smiling.

Eventually, dinner was done and everyone got their plates of food. Scott had come back and got his own food. Tango and Solidarity hadn't noticed that they had switched places (with Tango by the arm rest), so Scott sat beside Solidarity. The blonde went to move or say something, but Solidarity gave him an "it's fine" look and smile. Everyone sat around in the living room, talking, bouncing stories off each other, Tango excitedly listening to the stories of young Solidarity, who either blushed in embarrassment or yelled to "not tell that one!" They asked Tango and Solidarity questions about them and their relationship, what it was like living two hours away, if they had any plans to move back, overall having a good time. 

Until the alcohol was brought out.

Grian offered cups to everyone, Tango looking at Solidarity.

"You drink as much as you want, I'll drive." Solidarity reassured with a smile.

"Can you drive me too, then?" Scott asked, holding his own cup and beginning to gently draw shapes on his arm.

Solidarity stiffened, "I'm sure someone else can, Tango and I have to go in the opposite direction of your place."

"Awwww, you used to do it all the time when we would sneak alcohol." Scott chuckled, "Remember when we would steal my from my dad's stash? Grian caught us one time and was pissed!"

"Yeah, cause I thought Solidarity had never drank before, especially when you were both fifteen!" Grian teased.

Scott laughed, everyone did, but Solidarity and Tango. Tango held Solidarity's hand, rubbing circles in his palm to try and ground him as the other was stiff.

"Come on, I don't drink and drive and I left my car at home knowing about the alcohol! Are you gonna leave this power damsel all by himself?" Scott teased, drawing flower shapes on Solidarity's arm, "Will Tango not let you?" He accused, but said it in a teasing manner, everyone but Solidarity, Tango, Martyn, and Ren chuckling a bit.

The blonde could feel Solidarity tense up more. He smiled innocently, "Scott, why do you always ask Soli, are you still hung up on him?"

"H-Huh?! What, no, he-"

"Then I think it's weird how you always ask Soli." Tango said in the same teasing voice, though his accusation was more clear.

"He's right, Scott!" Martyn called, also having that teasing voice, "You know what, Ren can take us home! Ren's not allowed to drink outside our house!"

"It was one time!" Ren groaned playfully, both still trying to keep the playful energy, trying to ease the tension.

"One too many times!"

Solidarity was still stiff.

Tango spoke up, "Listen, if I convince him to take you home, will you promise we won't get a drunk call? Look how beautiful Soli is! He gets more pretty in his sleep and I can't have you ruining my eye candy!"

Scott flushed before he smiled, recovering with, "Come on, can't we share him? I mean, he already has me blocked because I make you uncomfortable, I just want to spend more time with him! He rarely visits nowadays!"

"Gee, I wonder why." Solidarity said, unable to mask his annoyance.

Tango stopped the teasing, looking at the other, "Soli-"

"What's wrong, Dary?" Scott asked, still tracing shapes on his arm.

Solidarity took a deep breath and retracted his arm, standing up, "Tango, get your things, we're leaving."

Tango stood up and grabbed his and Solidarity's things, seeing as Grian and Pearl stood up, trying to stop their brother, everyone else too stunned to move or say anything at the suddenness.

"Timmy, what's wrong?" "Nothing, I just want to leave-" "Come on Jim, it's Christmas, please stay!" "Both of you, move, I want to leave!" "You were never like this before, what the hell happened?!" "You know what happened!" "No we don't because you refuse to talk or visit us half the time!" "I've told you why, you just refuse to listen to me!"

Tango grabbed Solidarity's arm, pulling him past them, "Come on, Love, just look down, I'll drive-"

"Hold on, we're talking-"

"With all due respect, Grian, your brother is about to have a panic attack!" Tango glared, standing in front of Solidarity, protecting him as the other shook. Martyn and Ren climbed over the couch and tried to calm him down as Tango hissed, "I'm trying to get him away from people and in a safe place so he can calm down! So, if you'll excuse us-"

"Oh, and you know so much more about him than me, right?!" Grian glared, "You guys have been together for a year and yet you know more than his own brother?"

"Apparently, I do, he moved away for a reason!" The blonde hissed.

"You-!"

"Come on, Soli-" 

Pearl grabbed Solidarity's arm, "Guys, please just calm down! Jimmy, if you need a safe place, you can go in your old room and-"

"DON'T YOU UNDERSTAND I WANT TO LEAVE BECAUSE THIS WHOLE HOUSE FEELS UNSAFE?!" Solidarity screamed, facing Pearl, retracting his arm, "THIS ENTIRE HOUSE IS UNSAFE BECAUSE OF HIM!" He motioned to Scott.

"Dary, what-"

"STOP CALLING ME THAT!" The man faced the other, "I'VE ALREADY TOLD YOU COUNTLESS TIMES, I DON'T LIKE THAT NICKNAME! I DON'T LIKE ANYONE WHO ISN'T FAMILY OR MY PARTNER USING A NICKNAME! I'VE TOLD YOU THAT, OVER AND OVER AND OVER, AND I'VE TOLD YOU WHY, AND YOU REFUSE TO FUCKING LISTEN!"

"Hey, let's all just calm down!" Lizzie exclaimed, "Scott didn't do anything-"

"Shut up, Lizzie!" Solidarity growled.

"Woah, don't talk-"

"Shut up, Joel!" The dirty blonde repeated, motioning around the house, "THIS! This is why I don't come down here, this is exactly why! Everyone pushes my boundaries and then tells me to calm down, that I'm overreacting, that I'm being too sensitive, that I can't take a joke! So you know what?! FINE! I won't be back!"

"Solida-"

"NO! I'm tired of this, I'm tired of all this! I'm tired of being told I need to move on from Scott, that I need to let go of a grudge, that I need to just accept things, stuff that I have already done!" Solidarity looked at Scott, glaring, "I wish I never dated you if this is how you would react. Congrats, you've convinced everyone, including my own brother and sister, that I apparently am hung up on you! Despite the fact I have recorded voicemails of you crying, saying how you miss me, how you love me, how you wish we could go back to the way things were! Despite the fact I would pick you up so you didn't walk home drunk, and you tried to kiss me or make me stay the night! Despite the fact you would touch my arms and back and legs and I would not reciprocate, in fact, I would go stiff or tell you to stop, but you didn't care! Despite the fact I moved two hours away so I didn't have to deal with this! Yep, I'm still hung up on you! Tango is totally just a rebound and I am totally just waiting for you to confess your undying love for me so we can live happily ever after! Yep, that's exactly what I'm doing!"

He motioned towards the room, "And you all believe it! Let me tell you all the truth! Scott and I broke up amicably and I haven't looked back once! In fact, I blocked Scott, because I was uncomfortable, but Tango was gracious enough to take the fall because he knew the drama would stress me out!"

"Timmy, come on." Martyn gently pulled the other away, "You don't have to prove anything to anyone-"

"I-I am happy in my new relationship!" Solidarity whimpered, Tango hugging his arm as he was led out, "A relationship where I am respected, my feelings are considered, I can speak and not worry about if I say is the right or wrong thing, where I finally was able to grow a fucking spine! Unlike here, where I feel so shitty because you all make it seem like my comfortably doesn't matter." He was led to the door, "F-For future reference, if Scott is here, I'm not coming. If any of you try to make me apologize or try to reconcile, I will block you. I've been debating on doing this for months, but Tango thought I should give you all one more chance, see if you all have changed. Clearly, you haven't."

Solidarity was led to the car, getting in the passenger seat. Martyn and Tango calmed him down as Ren gathered his and Martyn's things. Once he was calm enough, Tango shut the door, thanking the two profusely. Martyn gave Tango his phone number, asking him to please just text or call him when they got home, Tango promising he would. Tango then got in the front seat and began to reverse, driving away. The dirty blonde gave him his phone, which was already beginning to blow up with texts and calls. Tango took it and shut it off. They sat in silence, the blonde holding Solidarity's hand as the other shook, tears streaming down his face.

"I'm proud of you." Tango reassured.

"...Thanks... You did really good... Not letting him get under your skin..." The dirty blonde shook, wiping his eyes, "I just couldn't, not when he began touching me..."

"I understand, Love."

"I'm s-"

"No need to apologize. You have nothing to be sorry for. Boundaries are for you, not for anyone else." Tango looked at him, smiling, "You should be proud."

Solidarity smiled a bit, "Thank you." He whispered meekly.

The two sat in a comfortable silence, driving home.

AN: This was more of just a story of setting boundaries and me projecting onto my comfort characters. Hope you liked it even if it was more of a vent kinda?

[solitude4chiron]

Besties, right?

Miles 1610 x Black!fem!Artist reader

A/n: I know I’m wild for promising y’all this fic and just now dropping it 🤦🏾‍♀️ I had some crazy writers block ngl but I’m back 🙏🏾 I’ll be debating if I want to do a pt.2 for this 🫣

🎧- Love Galore- SZA, Travis Scott

Sometimes you questioned you and Miles’s relationship. Not in a bad way though. He was the sweetest boy you knew, at times he was too sweet, but that was just how he showed he cared. You both had been friends since elementary. Yeah, maybe you shared a kiss under the slide, or used to crush on each other, but you both left that in the past. There was no feelings there anymore..Right?

Millimeters 🙄: “You eat today y/n”

“nah 🥲 I’m sketching rn I’ll eat later”

Millimeters 🙄: “whatchu want for dinner 🤦🏾‍♂️”

“nothing”

Millimeters 🙄: “ight gimme a minute”

He always did little stuff like that, but after he’d always clarify it was in a best friend way, just incase.

Before you could get back to drawing there was a knock at your window, and a boy with a bag of food in his hand.

“Miles I told you I wasn’t hungry.” You said with a bit of a frown on your face. You couldn’t help but feel guilty when people did stuff for you, even if they didn’t mind.

“You said you weren’t hungry but you be lying soo…” He came into your room and closed the window, placing the food on your desk and flopping back on your bed.

“So what’s been up witchu y/n? You still talking to that boy from art?”

“I was never talking to him, we literally just sit next to each other in class.” You shrugged turning your back to him at your desk. He came over your shoulder to look at your sketchbook.

“You know you can take breaks right? Arts supposed to be fun.”

“I know, I’m tryna get this scholarship.”

“You will. Just chill with me for now.” He responded, closing your sketch book and getting his food out of the bag.

You both started eating and talking together, completely ignoring the time. Miles was right though, art had been consuming you at this point. He just didn’t want you to lose the fun in being creative.

“Anyways, I got us some tickets to a concert, guess who?” He looked up at you with a faint smirk and a mouthful of food.

“Miles you didn’t have to.”

“But I did. Now guess.” He responded quickly.

“I dunno? You really didn’t have to though..”

“Oh well, guess you’ll see who when we go on Friday.” He shrugged and smiled. “Just know you’ll love it.”

For some reason the room had a bit of tension in it, you couldn’t put your finger on why, and you wondered if miles felt the same way.

“Who you lookin cute for?” He said quickly, still looking down at his plate.

“Whatchu mean I’m just wearin pajamas?”

“Oh. You just look really pretty.” He said looking up from his plate with a faint smile.

“Mhm, thank you miles.” You chuckled a little, playing with your food with your fork. “Why you really come over here?” You said, looking up from your plate this time.

“What I can’t see my bestie?” He laughed, raising an eyebrow.

“No like…nevermind.” You said shaking your head a bit.

“You said you was hungry so I brung you food.” He shrugged quickly.

You genuinely couldn’t tell if miles had feelings for you or not. Honestly he acted like this to everyone, not on this scale obviously but he was a sweet person. Your brain was scrambled at this point, anybody looking at you could tell you had something on your mind.

He reached for his phone and sighed, the time was 12pm and his mom wanted him to come home.

“I gotta go, it’s getting mad late.”

“I wanted to ask you..nevermind it’s nothing.” You quickly said, sighing a little.

He got up from your bed and leaned down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“Stop overthinking it y/n.” He said before climbing out of your window.

You sat on your desk chair frozen in place. What just happened? What did he mean by that? A heavy sigh left your lips as you fell back on your bed and clutched your pillow in your arms.

A text pinged through your phone before you fell asleep.

Millimeters 🙄: “Hope you enjoyed the food :)”

“Night miles ❤️”

[silverskye13]

Mortals are insane. That goes without saying, but Cub likes to remind himself every once in a while, just in case he’d somehow forgotten. Mortals are insane. Granted, most mortals think he’s insane, but that’s just the baffling way mortals perceive the vex. In fairness, vex are insane. He knows this about himself. It's just that he’s insane in a very different way to mortals. The word “crazy” is a lot more fluid than people think it is. 

For instance, crazy mortals will see a massive crack in time and space growing beneath Grian’s base, and they’ll walk right in. A crazy vex will follow, just to see what happens. Mortals are crazy because they’re daring and curious. Vex are crazy because they want to see what chaos ensues. See? Very different. It’s not that Cub isn’t excited to see what’s on the other side, it’s that he’s more excited to see how what’s on the other side is about to break, irreparably, because his pack of mortals sauntered in. It puts a smile on his face, like watching an artist make a new painting. It’s exciting. It's unpredictable. It’s insane.

The world on the other side is beautiful. It’s a world of empires. It's full of glorious, wondrous things, and people, and places, and all of them Cub comfortably calls insane. There are not-mortals living here. None of them are vex, but some of them are incredibly not-mortal. Granted, some of the friends he follows are not-mortal, but they’re not-mortal in a familiar way. He's defined their edges. This is an edgeless world he's walked into, off the side of the familiar into whatever's beyond it. 

Katherine is mortal, he thinks. The colorful ruler of Chromia, Scott, is barely-mortal. Pearl is not-mortal in a fundamentally different way to how she normally is back home, and Cub thinks that’s fantastic. That’s the kind of chaos he’s here for: irreparable changes, the fabric of the world reweaving itself. 

Katherine's kingdom, Glimmer Grove, is beautiful. Cub immediately takes in the clash of black and gray against pink and white, some curse, he thinks, spreading through her lands. If he really tapped into the magic of it, he might be able to tell what it is, but there's no fun in that. Secrets are at their best when they're unspooled slowly in their own time, sowing their little seeds of chaos. So Cub instead walks with the others and feigns ignorance when Scott points out the oddities in the architecture. He can't tell if Pearl and Impulse are playing along too, or if they really can't see it, but that just adds to the fun. How long can they dance around what each other knows? 

Insane.

Katherine gives a flourish of her pink dress as she stops them before a building. She's bouncing on her toes with excitement. Cub thinks she's terrible at keeping secrets, and those are the best kind of people. She leans in toward them, grinning, "Can you keep a secret?"

She is the best kind of people.

Cub plays with a humble smirk, "I can keep a secret, yeah."

Impulse gives him a sidelong glance that Cub pointedly ignores. He's too busy looking trustworthy. The rest of them agree, yes, we love secrets. Katherine, in that lovely way the best kinds of people do, believes them only because she has a secret she desperately wants to tell. She laughs and beckons them after her, leading them to a false door in her keep. It's a secret base, she tells them in an exuberant sing-song, a secret she's never told anyone, that she's giving to these complete strangers. Mortals are insane. 

Impulse shoots Cub another look, this time disapproving. Cub shrugs. He can't explain to Impulse that, vex or not, he hadn't coerced this with magic - though Impulse is right in thinking that's something he'd do. Explaining this would mean telling Katherine and Scott (and maybe Pearl, if more than just her not-mortal-ness has changed without her knowing) that he's vex, and he doesn't want to do that. Not yet anyway. You can never really tell what people think about vex. Besides, Katherine isn't done sharing secrets, and it would be bad form to reveal his own secret while listening to another. It makes him look less trustworthy, and it takes away from the impact of a well-placed reveal. He’d never steal another secret-sharer’s thunder. 

"So the real secret," Katherine grins as she closes the door behind them, "is I'm a monster slayer."

She takes a wicked looking battle ax down from its mount on the wall. The blade is sharp as shattered glass, and carries the dangerous aura of a weapon lovingly and frequently used. Cub thinks, maybe, it could kill him. He tries to hide his grin. 

There is a noticeable silence after Katherine reveals the ax, a pause that breathes just a moment too long. Scott looks bemused, like he'd somehow expected this. His magic eye glitters, trying to decide if it's monstrous. Pearl looks excitedly curious, like this is the most interesting thing she's learned all day. Impulse looks at Cub again. This time instead of being suspicious, he looks nervous. Cub squints his eyes and smirks.

"That's amazing," he says, and he means it. Mortals are full of wonders. She also reveals to them a deadly looking bow, and tells them about a magical transformations she does to “murder the bad guys”. The room is peppered with applause and praise, and Cub is grinning wide and excited, and he hopes it doesn’t look too terribly vex of him. He loves heroes. He loves seeing what they’ll do. Chaos. When he was an evoker-tied vex, he loved watching them suffer too, but he’s shaken that part of his vex-ness at least. He does think Katherine is the most interesting person he’s met today. Katherine swears them into secrecy and they leave, and Impulse watches the spring in Cub’s step dubiously.

“You should stay away from her, buddy,” Impulse cautions. “You’re a monster. She's a monster slayer.”

“Oh definitely, definitely,” Cub chimes a little too enthusiastically, and Impulse frowns at him. “But Impulse, she kills bad guys, and I’m on my best behavior.”

“Cub we just got here,” Impulse groans. “You need to stay out of trouble until we feel these people out. Some of them are scary, and they have their own agendas they’re pushing.”

“When have I ever started trouble?”

Impulse pauses to think about this. The answer is “often”, but people are rarely around to watch Cub start trouble. They’re generally only in the know when he escalates and finishes it. Impulse shakes his head, “You should still be careful.”

“I’ll be careful.” This, at least, is truthful. It’d do no good to go and get himself killed by a monster slayer two days into this new wonderful world, especially when it’s very possible vex magic will be needed to fix the portal. Vex have unpredictable magic; there’s no telling if it’ll help or harm a situation. In truth, Cub isn’t completely unconvinced his magic broke the portal in the first place, just by merit of him stepping through. What he does know is that he doesn’t want to leave. Not now. Not when there’s so much going on here. This world, he decides with the utmost fondness, is insane.

They take a tour. They meet gods and goblins, a witch in the woods. None of these, Cub notes to himself, are considered monsters by the monster slayer. Katherine speaks of them fondly, with no signs of magical transformations or smiting. Of course, it is daytime. Who's to know what will happen when the moon rises? 

He's to know, as it turns out, because Katherine calls him, Impulse and Pearl back to her place. She's a little more nervous this time. Cub can't smell mortal fear -- that's not really a vex trait -- but he's known mortal fear enough times to know there's a little bit of it here in Katherine. She wants them to prove their loyalty, and then once they prove it, to give them an ax and a uniform. It’s insurance, Cub thinks. It’s a lot harder to share a secret once it’s yours. Not that he was planning on sharing it anyway. He wants to see how this plays out. Impulse keeps throwing him sideways glances, getting increasingly nervous as the evening goes on. Cub remains unflappable, smiling, because why wouldn’t he find this fun? A vex that’s a monster slayer.

The moon rises.

As it’s rising, Katherine gives them a challenge. Prove you’re a monster hunter. Bring back the head of a monster. The vex in Cub goes to war with itself briefly, while it ignores another of Impulse’s furtive glances. He thinks it would be incredibly fun, incredibly chaotic, if he gave his own head to Katherine. But then again, that goes back to the problem of Cub wanting to know how all this plays out, wanting to chase the chaos of a new world, and needing to be alive to see how the Rift gets fixed. So he does something better.

The moon rises, and Katherine turns her back on them and raises her ax to begin her transformation. Pearl and Impulse start to scurry into corners to change into their uniforms. Cub waits until the Monster Slayer is mid-transformation, too caught up in her glitter and moonlight to watch. Then he snaps his fingers.

He, Impulse and Pearl are showered in glittering moonlight. Music only they can hear strikes up to the sound of rock guitar and drums. Who doesn’t love a good anime magical girl transformation? Cub finds himself laughing through his.

They land back on their feet, decked out in Monster Slayer regalia. Pearl is beaming. So is Cub. Impulse looks even more unsettled than he did before.

“Alright Monster Slayers!” Katherine calls, before Impulse can chastise Cub for the reckless use of vex magic in front of someone who probably kills vex in her spare time. “Bring me some monster heads!”

"Cub," Impulse whispers to him just before the all scatter in different directions. "You're insane."

Cub thinks that's funny, coming from a mortal. He grins. "I know."

[thebetawolfgirl]

Forbidden

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: SMUT!!!! A little bit of angst that last all of two seconds!

A/N: First fic in months. Hopefully my dry spell is over with!

Forbidden

When he came home to find his beloved y/n in the living room sitting on the large L shaped couch he became even more worried, he asked what was wrong and when she told him he sank down onto his knees in front of her and lay his head in her lap completely heartbroken. Because he was doing PR stuff with Kylie Jenner, Kylie’s ex’s team had contacted y/n’s to do the same saying it would really benefit both their careers.

Timothée and y/n had been in a steady but private relationship since the beginning of 2022, they were friends first but after one night of nonstop passion they decided they couldn’t remain just friends anymore.

Now they were being told by PR teams they couldn’t be seen together even as friends so aa not to risk the image of two people meant to be in love.

Now he was sitting at home scrolling through his social media with shaking hands seeing his beloved with the young rapper Travis Scott, he knew it wasn’t real. He knew all about playing the role of being in love with someone who in reality you couldn’t actually stomach being near, Kylie was constantly texting him complaining about the new lovebirds. He was ignoring her now, he couldn’t care less in hearing how hurt she was.

But the thing was, now that they both had been told they couldn’t be together, even in private it was making them careless and downright reckless, they became insatiable for each other. Regardless of what anyone told them or how many warnings they got from agents, PR teams and publicists they had been seeing each other nearly every night after dark.

One night y/n arrived at his house and crawled under his desk and blew him right there while he was on a conference call with his manager Brian, afterwards he threw her onto the same desk and rammed into her until they fell to the floor completely spent.

Tonight just after 10pm he got a text message from his girl saying she was finally home from Milan fashion week and that she NEEDED HIM! He hadn’t seen her all week and he had been getting withdrawal symptoms from the lack of her touch and her smell so he leaped from the couch grabbing his keys, not caring who saw his car in her driveway and sped over there.

He dived through her door nearly ripping the hinges off and lunged for her the minute he saw her coming downstairs with nothing but a bathrobe on and lifted her up in his arms while devouring her mouth biting and licking as she pulled on his hair which had been growing longer so was naturally a mess already.

They reached the bedroom and he tossed her onto the bed and leaned down to rip the robe from her body and stopped to look at her and whined low in his throat before falling on top of her letting her pull his shirt over his as he kissed every inch of her skin he could reach as she pushed his sweatpants down his hips as he nuzzled his face into her neck.

Being skin to skin with her was like drinking a glass of water after walking the dessert for two days, he lifted his head dragging his mouth downwards to her thighs then her knees down her calves and then her ankles.

He then began again from her ankles and made his way slowly up her legs one at a time hearing her whimper and whine writhing on the sheets his trance broke when she whined his name desperately that ended in an impatient shriek.

‘TIMMY! Just FUCKING TAKE ME!’

Her cursing sent a shock of electricity down his spine and he attached his mouth and tongue to her clit making her squeal as he grabbed her wrists and pinned them at her sides before shoving his tongue inside her opening and thrust it in and out, he continued the motion until she came screaming his name.

He moved up her body and kissed her hungrily before flipping her over onto her front and shoved his cock into her from behind making her gasp into the pillow, he pulled her up into his arms and began thrusting hard as he buried his face against her shoulder, hearing her panting and whining with each thrust.

He thrust harder into her holding her body against his feeling her skin become damp and her long hair stick to her flesh, he pushed her down into the mattress watching her grip the bars of her headboard as he slammed into her from the new angle groaning at the dirty sounds from her mouth.

He collapsed on top of her and ground his hips against hers as his release consumed his entire body causing him to tremble all over as he felt her coming down from hers slowly her back arching upwards against his hips making him gasp and whimper against her shoulder.

He gathered enough strength to lift his body off hers and lay beside her still trying to catch his breath and nuzzled his damp face against her neck while pulling her against him, she lifted her hand and pushed his wet hair from his eyes and face letting him lean against her hand before lifting his face and pressing his open mouth against hers sighing against her lips as she returned the kiss rolling him to lay on top of her. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back making him gasp against her mouth, and deepen the kiss before moving down her throat and nuzzle her neck.

He whispered quietly against her neck how much he loved her and how much he missed her while she was away as he run his fingers along her rib cage as she played with his hair and placed small pecks on his forehead.

They wouldn’t be able to keep this up for very long, they knew, but they also couldn’t stay away from each other either. Not like this at least.

Y/n woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast being cooked, or being burned and got out of bed grabbing a bathrobe Timmy had yet to destroy and walked downstairs towards the smell and smiled seeing Timmy at the cooker trying to cook eggs.

He became instantly aware of her presence beside him and turned to look at her smiling before removing the frying pan from the heat and walked over to her, and pinned her to the wall and began feasting on her lips and neck.

She gasped against his lips on her neck squirming against him, ‘Timmy, someone might walk in and see us.’ She breathed as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, she gasps as he grabs her ass cheeks lifting her up against the wall he had her pinned too, she slipped her hands into his sweatpants and grabbed his ass and squeezed his flesh causing him to bite down on her throat hard groaning.

‘Fuck!’ He swore and rutted his hips against hers as he felt her nails dig into his flesh. He panted against her neck kneading the flesh of her ass as she let her head fall back letting him run his tongue up her throat.

‘We should eat, first baby.’ Y/n breathed against him.

‘Agreed.’ He turned and kneeled down on the floor before laying her back underneath him causing her bathrobe to slip open, he leaned down to kiss her lips before moving his mouth down her body pushing the front of his sweats down and pushed his dick into her slowly as he sucked on her pulse. He started a rough pace with her making her body bounce with his force, they both no longer caring who walked in anymore as she pulled him down on top of her. She slid her hands down his back and dug her nails into his ass again making him thrust deeper causing him to growl as his hips slammed into hers loudly echoing around the kitchen.

He wrapped his arms around her waist holding her tight against him as he buried his face against her neck while ramming into her before they both came together in a tangled mess breathing raggedly.

She panted turning to kiss his mouth swallowing his moan, and pushed him to sit up straddling his lap and continued kissing him as he wrapped his arms around her back deepening the kiss and opening his mouth against hers.

‘We should stop and get dressed for the day-‘

‘No! No getting dressed, no answering phones or doors or going out.’

Y/n smirked against his lips and bit down gently to make him come up for air and pressed her fingers to his mouth when he tried to move in again.

‘So you just want to lock the house up and ignore the world and just stay in bed all day?’ She raised her eyebrow watching as he began to try and eat and suck her fingers like lollipops before he nodded smiling and humming against her fingers. He let her hand go and stood up bring her with him and turned the cooker off completely before carrying her back to bed.

Right now they were forbidden to be together, but that wouldn’t stop them!

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@tchalamess

@mel-vaz

@minnypress

@natnatj0-8

@lavendarhearts

@ducktapebar

[princeescaluswords]

Empathy Gap, Part Infinity

So, yesterday, a friend of mine decided to do a Teen Wolf Positivity post, where people said what they liked about Teen Wolf. I appreciate them and what they tried to do. We need more positivity in the fandom, and every time there's a call for positivity I'll be right there, because that's what being a fan of something means.

However ...

There was a reply -- and it was a good reply! -- about how much Derek's behavior was informed by him being a victim of sexual assault by Kate six years before the show began. The post pointed out how Derek (played by Tyler Hoechlin) incorporated this behavior without drawing unnecessary attention to it. They made a great point, one that I can get behind 100%. I think that shows a great deal of perception and it's a valid interpretation.

And then the very next post -- the very next reply! -- is another person talking about what they appreciate about Teen Wolf is how the show had Scott make poor decisions because he was a teenager. Just to make sure we understood that they were being positive about the show, they described those decisions as DUMB -- all caps and everything! You see, to them, it was a wonderful thing that Scott was portrayed as being stupid about wanting things like doing well in school or dating a girl he liked instead of -- well, they didn't actually say what decisions they wanted Scott to make instead, but I think we can all guess that they expected Scott to put someone else's problems ahead of his own life.

And the Empathy Gap in the fandom raises its ugly head once again, like flowers blooming in spring. Derek Hale's behavior -- the distrust, the anger, the poor coping mechanisms -- is well explained by Kate's sexual assault from six years before the show started. Scott's attempt to hold on to his life after a brutal assault in the woods (heavily coded as a sexual assault as well) in the first damn episode and the decisions he makes are motivated by him being a stupid teenager rather than -- as the show parallels repeatedly between Scott and Derek -- being a victim of trauma.

And what's worse, they end their entirely intended to be positive reply with this conceit: "If some stranger in a leather jacket showed up telling you you’re a creature of the night, and even though you now seem to have claws and glowing eyes, you’re gonna nope out and ignore it. Because it can’t be real, but a D- on your report card is and your mom will see it."

This is, of course, completely untrue. Scott denied he was a werewolf from Scene 22 with Stiles in Stiles's Bedroom to Scene 27 when Scott watched claws grow from his fingers and fangs grow in his mouth. That's five scenes out of 31 in the first episode. And even though Derek had interacted with Scott three times before that, Derek had never told Scott he was a werewolf because he was too busy using Scott as bait for the alpha that killed his sister.

But why pay attention to a Character of Color's trauma response when you can oh-so-positively call him a 'stupid teenager.'

You see, Teen Wolf's writers never criticized Scott for wanting to get good grades or date a girl he liked or make first line on the lacrosse team because they understood that even teenagers have their own lives and their own identity, and that it's not DUMB to want to make sure you don't lose those things because a bunch of damaged white men want to make him their proxy in an ancient grudge.

Which is actually something that you can be positive about.

[peppered-moths]

this is not about revenge (or what i felt before)

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

"You won, right?" The sound of Martyn's voice seemingly jerks Scott awake. Martyn hadn't even noticed, caught up in his own thoughts. He mouths 'sorry' and intends to leave it at that, settling back against the hard stone wall. They had to sleep sometimes, and Martyn had graciously volunteered to watch Scott's back while he slept. It... had been a long day.

Scott sits up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He doesn't make any motion to go back to sleep, and instead eyes him. His expression is unreadable.

"Yeah? I- I mean, you were there, right? Watched me get struck down, all that?" He waves a hand in the air aimlessly.

"I just- I want to know what it's like." Martyn says softly. The whispers still ring in his ears. He wonders, if he won, if they'd stop.

Scott frowns down at him, one newly sprouted yellow fin flicking. "Seriously, Martyn, what's this about? You can't be that confident already- you were just talking earlier about how bad your armor was."

He hesitates. How does he explain it? Explain Them?

"Just- did you see anything? Afterwards."

Scott's expression freezes, stuck between shock and confusion and a little bit of fear-

"You have!" Martyn shoots up, ignoring protesting wounds. He reaches over, takes Scott's hands. "You saw Them, didn't you?"

"I- don't- how did you- how did you know?" Scott sucks in a sharp breath, mouth tugged downwards. "Grian said. He said- it was only supposed to be the winners." Huh. That makes... a surprising amount of sense.

"I hear them," he breathes, locking eyes with Scott. "I always hear them. It's... quiet, usually, but sometimes-" He swallows, looks down. "I heard them after you died." After I killed you.

"Okay." Scott nods, forced calm on his face. "I'll pretend like that's completely normal and not at all worrying." His voice pitches upward as he speaks. "Um. Do I need to be worried?"

Well, I think They told me to kill you. And I don't think last time counts.

"No," he says instead. "Not really. It was just... indecipherable nonsense. As usual." Scott's still tense, but his hands relax slightly in Martyn's grip, and he feels slightly bad for lying. And then he realizes he's holding Scott's hands, and immediately lets go.

Scott blinks at him as he steps away, and then down at his own hands, dotted here and there with dark blue scales. He doesn't seem notice how flustered Martyn is all of a sudden, and he thanks any gods but his own for that. He's not sure why he's flustered in the first place, because that's something to unpack another day!

"I don't think I've said thank you yet." Martyn's eyes snap back to Scott. "For killing me," the other man clarifies, which is... something Martyn hasn't heard in a while.

"Well. It wasn't like I was having a lot of fun either."

"Mmm." Scott's only half-listening, he can tell, clearly turning something over in his mind. He waits patiently.

"You- hm. You don't do that very often." Scott looks at him directly, and for a moment all Martyn can imagine is a red brand across his throat. It's a stupid idea, of course. He had stabbed him through the heart.

"No," he agrees. "I don't." Suddenly all he can think about is how alone they are, in their threadbare cave under the ocean. How suddenly vulnerable this feels. He hasn't- he doesn't-

"I guess I'm trying to ask if it means something," Scott says carefully, watching Martyn like he's about to run, "or if I'm reading too far into it."

And that sends Martyn reeling. All he can do is stare at Scott, mind scrambling to form something cohesive.

In the end, all he can get out is "What about Jimmy?"

Scott's face twists sharply, a wave of emotions playing over his features, and Martyn knows he's said the wrong thing. But Scott just clasps his hands in his lap, twisting them tightly together, and looks back up at him.

"What about him?"

"Well- aren't you two..." Fated. Destined. Martyn waves his hand to illustrate his point.

"You didn't see his face today," Scott whispers after a moment, voice cracking for a moment. "When he was chasing me. It was- that was hunger, Martyn. He was going to do anything to kill me. I-" Scott stops. Takes a deep breath. "He wasn't- isn't the same Jimmy I fell in love with."

Martyn sits next to him on the bed, hands awkwardly hovering close to the other. Scott seems like he's about to cry. He looks at Martyn again, something simultaneously piercing and vulnerable.

"You're avoiding the question."

"What?"

Scott scrubs a hand over his head, messing up his already rumpled hair. "I asked if it meant something." Martyn is silent again; not struck-dumb silence, but instead reaching for an answer he isn't sure he knows.

"I remind you of him." Everything reminds me of him. It's still not an answer. Ren had been the world, and then, just like that, he wasn't. It still aches.

"That's not fair. To you." he finally murmurs. Scott just looks at him with clear yellow eyes. He wonders what red will look like on him.

"No, it's not," he agrees. "It's not fair for you to pretend I'm Ren. But that's not what I'm asking." He shifts closer, gesturing for Martyn to turn so they're both facing each other. "I'm asking if it meant something. Beyond Ren, beyond Red Winter, beyond Third Life."

Martyn sits there. He remembers sinking his sword between Scott's fourth and fifth ribs. His first thought had been you're safe now. Like it was nothing. Like he's ever been able to keep anyone safe.

Scott must see the struggle in his face. He takes one of Martyn's hands, squeezing it in his own. It feels... safe.

"It's- just- I- don't you ever believe in fate? Destiny, soulmates, whatever you want to call it."

Scott turns his head, considering. "Well, we've already tried the soulmate thing, and look at how that ended." The small smile fades from his lips. "I think if I'm destined to be with Jimmy, I wouldn't feel the way I do about him. I wouldn't feel the way I feel about you."

That makes Martyn flush, turning his face surreptitiously away so Scott can't see it. "I wish I could escape fate," he admits. "But I hear Them every time. It's- it's like They know, every single time. Like it's predestined."

"Well, try doing something They'd never expect," Scott suggests, half-jokingly. It actually makes him laugh.

"Yeah? What do you propose?" Scott's mouth curves in a wicked smile, and he leans closer to Martyn, until they're almost nose to nose.

"Well," he murmurs, sing-song. He places one hand on Martyn's cheek. "I was thinking something like this." He leans in closer, slowly, giving Martyn plenty of time to back off, to say no thanks if he wants to. He doesn't take the opportunity.

He meets Scott right in the middle. The kiss is driving, fierce. It's nothing like the way Ren used to kiss Martyn, like he was fragile, something easily broken, needing to be protected. He doesn't really want Scott to kiss like Ren anyways, he realizes.

They break apart after a moment, Martyn half-dazed. Scott runs a finger over his bottom lip absently, and he can't help but trace it with his eyes. Scott catches him in the act, raising an eyebrow.

"Did that feel fated?"

"I'm not sure," Martyn breathes. "I think I'd have to try again."

[dragon-chica]

Diner Talks - Teen Wolf Preference

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Idea and inspiration from my ever beloved @adarkroomandawallflower 🖤(Of course Theo's is longest...)

Following the ever-present supernatural happenings in your lives, it became a small tradition between you to, when all is said and done with the latest crisis of Beacon Hills, go down to the diner at the edge of town and unwind. A sigh of relief and good enough food that never changes, and just talk.

They're open 24/7, and you've learned you can say anything without the cook or single waitress giving a damn, from school problems to supernaturals, neither had bat an eye or paid you any mind. They have their own nights to get through, something you've really grown to appreciate and respect, they've never ratted on anything that might have past their ears.

Scott McCall: It was late when everyone called it case-closed and dispersed back to their homes after the last big bad was run out of Beacon Hills, Scott was giving you a ride home on his motorcycle when it started to pour.

Instead of going to the other side of town in blinding rain that may not have been natural, he ducked towards the only lit up building, a neon sign with an awning he could tuck his bike under, and you shared milkshakes and fries, chatting happily in the warm light and ignoring the strange figure standing across the lot.

Stiles Stilinski: The town was once again saved, everyone you loved was more or less in once piece and you were almost asleep in the passenger seat until Stiles' steady tapping a rhythm on his steering wheel changed into a sharp turn into the entrance to a diner woke you wondering if something was wrong.

He let out a whoop and fist pumped pulling into the empty row in front and you took in the place, flickering neon sign you've never paid attention to before as he was already at your door opening it for you.

He remembers when he was little and his dad would take him to eat here after a long case was finally finished, they would both get a greasy burger and greasier fries and Noah would humor some of his questions about work while urging him to eat instead.

They hadn't done this in years, not really. But now you sit across from him in the booth with greasy food served by the same cigarette smokey waitress and talk about your own cases and a little nostalgia always gets him.

Allison Argent: You first took her to eat at the diner not long after she had moved to Beacon Hills, she was unsure if the place was even there as you drove to the very edge of town. And it was completely deserted without being that late, but she followed you in, she's the new one here afterall.

When she learned about werewolves and hunters and everything else she had to tell you as soon as possible and told you to meet her at the diner immediately. She had your order waiting when you got there and was barely holding it in while you slid in across from her before spilling everything she knew and just found out before realizing, you already know about this.

Now anytime there's something new or big to discuss you end up back at the diner, talking a little too loud for such a topic pouring over new knowledge and old texts together.

Theo Raeken: It had been a long day. Both you and Theo (and hell, half the pack) were roughed up and exhausted, nearly dying before the latest big shot was run out of town, and you were starving.

And you voiced as much to Theo, who was about to say there's not much he can do about that at two in the morning, before spotting the only damn place lit up at this hour. He pulled in and huffed a laugh that yeah, it was really open.

He puts his jacket over your shoulders before you slide into the booth and takes the spot across from you, watching your gaze hungrily scan the menu and just adding "same here" once you order.

It's a sigh of relief while you lean back and wait for your food, giving him a crooked little smile while your foot bumps his leg. There's an ache from his wounds still and a scuff of dirt on your face and he wants to get you back in his truck and drive. Away from Beacon Hills and all its' trials, from the memories of hell and the pack he swears he doesn't care for.

It's tradition now, to come to eat at the diner on the edge of town, no matter how late, always lit and empty, as if waiting for you both. You take the same booth and Theo always takes whatever you order too, and he says how you can leave together. Leave everything in this town behind and it'd be okay, but you notice how less serious he sounds about it now. As he comes to accept his fate of caring about the pack and becoming attached to this town, a passing comment of the night before lacing his fingers with yours and heading home instead of a wistful glance to his truck and pleading tone.

Lydia Martin: The only one who starts this out as a normal date. Despite her expensive tastes and higher class lifestyle, she took you out to the 'cute little diner' for a tame date one night when you seemed like you needed a little time to just get away.

Though she usually would've just booked you both a spa day, she knows you well enough that you'd enjoy this little place. Rolling her eyes when you look so surprised that this is where she took you.

Unsuspectedly enjoyed the meal and just getting to talk with you here that it became your go-to whenever things became a bit much, especially after the supernatural aspect took over your lives.

Isaac Lahey: You would take him here when you were able to sneak him out after his dad had been in especially fine form. A quiet place where no one would ask or bat an eye, despite how worried he was at first.

Just a place far away from everything and a hot meal and too-large milkshake to share, always getting one with two straws because you knew he loved that in cheesy movies.

And after he became a werewolf and everyone was so busy you realized how long it'd been since you went to the diner, especially since there was nothing to stop you anymore. Now you go after every pack problem, and despite the higher stakes he's much more lighthearted on these late nights.

[huskynotwolf]

Tongues and Teeth

-song by the Crane Wives

-fanfic by The Crazy Husky

No. 2

(This is a project I made for Crane Wives x Life Series. Scott basically enjoys singing here and plans to do a project to sing every song by the Crane Wives. All lyrics belong to Crane Wives, and I own the fanfic.)

Pearl muttered unhappily as she hefted her guitar up. Scott was also grouching, apparently disagreeing with Grian as well, since he made them sing. He made both of them sing a song about him and Scar.

Scott could also see that Pearl was on the edge of breaking. She hated being forced to do stuff. Grian had overheard them singing, and it was as embarrassing as it sounds. Cleo also told Scar, so Pearl had beaten her up so hard she was sent to infirmary for three days.

Scott began thinking of anything to describe their relationship… the song Tongues and Teeth came to his mind, and he began furiously trying to remember the lyrics.

Recently, he and Pearl had listened to way more Crane Wives songs than they’re supposed to, but at least they’re both completely consent with that, although things get awkward afterwards. He could remember a few more song lyrics than before, so he was confident to hit Grian hard enough so he wouldn’t bother them anymore.

He tugged Pearl’s shoulder and whispered, “Tongues and Teeth. That one.” She thought of it for a moment, then nodded. Giggling, she tuned her guitar and readied, casting a final glance at me. I nodded, then we began.

She immediately began strumming the strings of the guitar, starting the song. He prepared himself for the first lyrics. “I've grown a mouth so sharp and cruel, it's all that I can give to you, my dear.” He sung as she slowed down the speed of the music.

“And when you come in quick to steal a kiss, my teeth will only cut your lips, my dear.” Scott gave Pearl a tiny smile while Grian and Scar watched intently with extreme confusion. “And I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your good intent,” Scott nudged Pearl with his shoulder, and she took the singing part while simultaneously playing the guitar. “I will only break your pretty things. I will only wring you dry of everything, but if you're fine with that, you can be mine like that,” She sung.

“~~~” She began playing the guitar with such intensity that he though it would basically just give up and break like Pearl’s first guitar (she smashed it, then smashed Scott’s). Grian looked at Scar, who shrugged back at him. “Dunno,” he muttered.

“Abandon all your stupid dreams
About the girl I could have been, my dear. 'Cause in the night I know you burn with feelings I cannot return, my dear, oh, my dear,” she sung, then shot Scott a look to signal him to continue. “You gotta know that this won't last. Desperation will erase the fact I'm keeping all,” he raised his voice slightly.

“Of the answers in my cigarette box. Yeah, the answer's in the second before the other shoe drops. And if you're blind to that, I am fine with that,” As soon as he finished, Pearl launched into another series of intense guitar playing. “~~~”

“I think she means us,” Grian muttered to Scar. Scar glared at him, shocked, then said, “Nah, it’s probably just the song.” Grian slapped him then looked back at the two preforming pair. By then Cleo, Martyn, BigB, Impulse and Ren had came over to watch, but Scott and Pearl continued, ignoring them and focused on their original goal.

“Oh, I will ruin you,” Pearl sung, then passed it to Scott. “Oh, I will ruin you.” He sung without missing a beat. “It's a habit - I can't help it. I know that you mean so well, but I am not a vessel for your good intent,” Pearl nodded slightly then they joined each other into the final verses.

“I will only break your pretty things. I will only wring you dry of everything, and if you're fine with that. If you're fine with that,” They sung, with Pearl continuing her part as the guy with the guitar. “I will poison all your happy thoughts,” Pearl’s shoulder muscles suddenly tensed. “I love you like the ashes in my cigarette box, and if you're fine with that,” Pearl gripped the guitar harder. “You can be mine.” She kept playing, though Scott could see her excitement vibrating from her body. “If you're fine with that, you can be mine~”

She then followed up with her amazing guitar skills, playing through the rest of the song like an expert. Scott sung to the tune, then they concluded by Scott whooping the final part and Pearl trailing off with her guitar.

Everyone began clapping, with only Scar and Grian feeling very flustered and was looking away from each other, nervous. As soon as the clapping ended, though, Pearl hefted the wooden guitar and smashed it on Scar’s head. It broke into splinters. “That’s for making me sing in public!” She screeched. Scar scowled back, brushing wood bits off his head.

Scott sighed. He’s gonna have to make an unbreakable guitar for Pearl next time. Either she’s gonna take it out on Scott or someone else is ending up in the infirmary.

Next

Previous

[unclewaynemunson]

There was a soft knock on the door before Scott stepped into the trailer: one tap, a slight pause, then three rapid taps. Wayne would recognize that rhythm in his sleep by now.

Scott greeted him with a smile and a quick kiss on his mouth as soon as the door was closed behind him. He was wearing a maroon sweater vest over a button-down shirt with a striped pattern, and when Wayne let his gaze wander lower, he noticed the finger-shaped chalk stains that formed a white contrast against his gray trousers.

Steve and Eddie were occupying the couch, their limbs tangled into each other and matching teasing smiles on their faces as they were having a dramatically heated argument about something Wayne had already tuned out of a long time ago.

Wayne was weirdly nervous about the whole thing. Steve had been at the trailer for basically every Friday night since the summer, shortly after he and Eddie officially became a couple. The boy had become a familiar presence, just as much in on the rituals as Eddie and Wayne. But Scott had never been there with them yet. Sure, they had dinner together on Saturdays or an occasional weekday when Wayne didn’t have a nightshift to get to - but never on Friday. Never on Shabbat.

It's always been important to Wayne, Shabbat. Back when he worked at the quarry, he couldn't always be home on Friday evenings, but at the plant, no matter how shitty the job itself, he was blessed with the possibility to get his Friday nights and Saturdays off, with only a few exceptions.

It was part of his identity, even if it was something he's had to hide behind closed doors – he was used to hiding parts of his identity behind closed doors, anyway. This was only one of the many parts of himself that he had been taught to keep hidden for as long as he could remember.

But here Scott was, giving him a smile filled with happy expectation, accepting Wayne for all that he was without any effort. A miracle disguised in a sweater vest.

'I'm sorry, I didn't have time to get changed,' Scott said, a somewhat unfamiliar nervous edge to his voice, as if this was just as big of a deal for him as it was for Wayne. 'I was getting a bit worried that I wouldn't be dressed appropriately, but you told me how important it was to be on time for the candle lighting, so I didn't wanna risk running late... I told Mrs. Horowitz at the school that I was going to a Shabbat dinner and she told me I should be dressed nicely, but here I am wearing trousers covered in chalk stains.'

Before Wayne could even reply to that, Eddie bounced off the couch and greeted Scott by wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

'It's cute that you're so worried, Mr. Clarke, but even with your chalk stain pants, you're still easily overdressing all of us.'

'Hey!' Steve chimed in from his spot on the couch. 'What about my Shabbat khakis?'

Eddie cackled, his curls bouncing around his face as he rushed back to the couch and went to sit on Steve's lap, completely ignoring the empty space right next to him.

'The fact that you're calling them your “Shabbat khakis” is saying more than enough to prove my point, big boy,' he said, teasing but with a look in his eyes that was so fond it almost felt like Wayne was witnessing something too private.

He let his gaze wander back to Scott, who was looking slightly less tense as he presented Wayne with a bottle of wine.

'Oh, you didn't need to do that,' Wayne said automatically.

'It's kosher, I checked,' Scott told him, and Wayne couldn't help but softly shake his head at the man in front of him.

'You know we don't bother eatin' kosher,' he pointed out.

'I do,' Scott said, like it even surprised himself that he did. 'But I thought, with Shabbat...' His eyes flashed towards the boys on the couch, but they seemed to be too busy making heart-eyes at each other and giggling to pay much attention to the conversation the men were having. Still, he continued at a much lower volume, 'I have to admit I'm a little bit out my depth, Wayne. Mrs. Horowitz made it all sound much more formal than you did when you told me about it, so I guess I got a bit nervous about the whole thing.'

Wayne looked at Scott fondly, patted him on his shoulder in the hopes that that would set him more at ease.

'Yeah, if you do it properly it can all get a bit formal,' he admitted. 'But the Munsons are doin' it trailer park style. You're good.'

A smile started growing underneath Scott's mustache – a smile that still left Wayne slightly breathless whenever it appeared.

'Aight, why don't you come over here –' Wayne took both Scott's hands in his own to guide him towards the small table in the corner, '– so we can light the candles together?'

'Candle time!' Eddie yelled out as soon as his ear caught the word “candles.” He jumped up from Steve's lap and skipped over towards Wayne and Scott with Steve trailing behind him like a lovesick puppy.

'Usually the candles would be lit by the woman of the house,' Wayne explained to Scott, 'but we ain't had a woman of the house since, well, ever, so you'll have to make do with little ol' me, I'm afraid. We light the candles and say a blessing, and then we wish each other Shabbat shalom.'

'Are there always four candles?' Scott asked.

'Well, officially it's only one, if you're unmarried,' Wayne told him. 'But we been doin' two ever since Eddie moved here, and then I figured it'd be nice to get one for Steve as well, and now you're here, so...' He trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable by what this implied – but Scott only gave him that breathtaking beaming smile and wrapped an arm around his shoulder.

Wayne let himself melt into the touch, but Eddie impatiently pointed towards his watch.

'C'mon, man, time to burn some shit,' he commanded, and Wayne slowly shook his head as he reached for the matches. Only Eddie could refer to this mitzvah as “burning some shit” with a straight face, as if it was the most badass thing in the world to light a couple of candles.

Wayne welcomed the familiar feeling of anticipation as he lit all four the candles, then discarded the still burning match in the ashtray. He covered his eyes with one hand, recited the blessing, and then opened his eyes to wish everyone around him a good shabbos.

'Shabbat shalom,' Scott said quietly, with an almost shy smile tugging at his mouth.

They all took a seat at the table, which could barely even fit three people, but Wayne didn't really mind sitting a bit too close to Scott anyway.

'What did the blessing mean?' Scott asked. And he looked so genuinely interested that Wayne found himself going into a whole monologue before he even knew it; not just about the meaning of the blessing, but also about the whole symbolism of the lighting of the candles in general and the stories behind the hymns they were about to sing. It felt good, to share this piece of himself with Scott, to have Scott hanging onto his every word and asking all kinds of questions.

Scott, a teacher in heart and soul, always loved launching into excited monologues about big scientific facts and theories, and while Wayne loved listening to him when that happened, it was surprisingly nice to be the one doing the teaching for a change.

Eddie sat out Wayne's explanation with a surprising amount of patience and Steve, for whom all of this was still relatively new too, seemed to listen to him just as attentively as Scott. When Wayne felt like he had been talking more than enough and Scott stopped asking any further questions, they all rose from their seats to continue with the Shalom Aleichem. Wayne tried not to look at Scott while he sang and instead focused on Eddie's voice merging with his own. Steve never sang it with them, feeling more comfortable listening instead, but Wayne always felt this connection with his nephew while the Hebrew words rolled off their tongues, connecting them with each other and with the community around them across generations and continents.

After they finished singing – Wayne's favorite part of the evening – he proceeded with the kiddush, pausing to explain to Scott what exactly was happening while he handed out the wine.

'And now we wash our hands,' Wayne continued. He guided Scott to the sink in their tiny kitchen, pouring water over his hands and reciting the blessing for him. He laid a finger on his lips to indicate to Scott that he shouldn't speak, and took his time to meticulously dry Scott's hands for him. He was quite aware of the fact that Scott could very well do that part by himself, but if he saw an excuse to hold those hands and treat them to a bit of tenderness, it was impossible not to take it. He tried to ignore the obnoxious eyebrow wiggle Eddie was sending him from over Scott’s head, clearly knowing exactly what Wayne was doing, and instead dedicated his full attention to Scott’s soft hands, grateful that none of them would be speaking right now and simply allowing himself to enjoy the moment.

He continued to observe quietly how Eddie and then Steve came up to the sink for the washing. Steve still said the words of the blessing in an unsure voice, even though he had been doing this for a while now, and as always, his gaze found Eddie's after the last word as if he was looking for confirmation that he hadn't messed up – and Eddie always answered that gaze with an encouraging nod and a soft smile around his lips.

When everyone was back at the table, Wayne proceeded to recite the last blessing before they could begin their meal, handing out pieces of challah to the others so that they could start eating and break the somewhat solemn silence.

They spent the rest of the evening enjoying their simple Shabbat meal. Neither Wayne nor Eddie were particularly gifted cooks, and more often than not had their Shabbat dinner been nothing but a plain mac'n cheese. But ever since Steve had started joining them, their menus had somewhat improved. Even though the boy wasn't a very experienced cook yet, he loved trying out new recipes and definitely knew his way around the kitchen better than Eddie and Wayne combined. So they all enjoyed the delicious fish prepared by Steve, paired with the wine Scott had brought, while easily chatting away about the week they'd had and their plans for the weekend.

Even though Wayne wasn't exactly what you'd call an observant Jew, he still valued the Shabbat tradition of contemplating the texts and stories that were so important to who they were and why they were doing what they did, so he told Scott and Steve about one of his favorite psalms and happily joined Eddie when the boy spontaneously started singing it.

'What did ya think?' Wayne asked when he followed Scott outside at the end of the evening. It ached a little bit, to let Scott go home; Wayne wished he had an actual bed to offer him, so they'd be able to enjoy each other's company a couple hours longer, possibly forever.

They were outside, so Scott didn't touch him, but his smile easily managed to light up the darkness around them.

'Thank you for sharing this with me,' he said in a soft voice.

Wayne wanted to say something along the lines of Thank you for coming, but that wouldn't quite cover what he was actually feeling, so instead, he stayed silent. Scott seemed to understand him anyway, though, because he let his hand slide over Wayne's arm before he got into his car and drove off into the darkness. It was barely a real touch, nothing but a friendly gesture shared between acquaintances to anyone who might be seeing them from behind the windows of their trailer. But to Wayne, it was everything: it was understanding, it was appreciation, it was gratitude, and most of all, it was a promise.