#so i am free and clear 😎😎

[hikeyzz]

cried for an hour straight in therapy about how much i don't wanna be alive and didn't earn myself a grippy sock vacation so that's a win boyz

[not-neverland06]

forgotten promises

pt two of broken promises (I know I'm so creative with names)

bodyguard!logan howlett x fem!runaway reader

a/n: SMUT 18+ MDNI they, like, never use protection (don't be silly, sheathe your willy) but I’d like to make it 100% clear now that she has a magic uterus and there will be absolutely NO baby-making. Just rocking unprotected sex 😎👍 If you’re tagged in this, it does not mean that I am permanently adding you to my taglist. It just means I saw you in my comments/reblogs/inbox asking for a part two and this was the easiest way to let you know I made one. If you would like to be added to the taglist, feel free to ask.  Summary: Life on the road isn't exactly glamorous. Cramped spaces and too many cheap motels have you and Logan at each other's throats. You feel eyes tracking you everywhere you go but you're afraid to tell him, afraid it will be the end of the road for the both of you. One cheap bar and an explosion later and your whole life is flipped upside down.

“What are you doing?”

You glance over Logan’s shoulder at the register. The man behind it isn’t looking at either of you, just disinterestedly scrolling through his phone. 

“Isn’t this what you do?” You ask, motioning to the pack of beef jerky you’re stuffing down your jacket. 

Logan scoffs and shakes his head. “No, kid.” He takes the bag from you and rolls his eyes. 

“Well, then how do you pay for this stuff?”

“Normally, with the money I get from my jobs. But your dad wasn’t too forthcoming with my last paycheck.”

You feel that familiar burning churn of guilt roiling around in your gut. You’ve definitely added another complication to his life and it makes you feel like nothing more than a burden sometimes. “Oh, Logan, I’m sorry.”

Logan glances down at you. He gives you that familiar appeasing look, squeezing you closer, and drags you towards the register. He tosses the snacks and drinks onto the counter. The guy just barely glances up at you both. 

“Will that be all?” He asks in a tone that says he could care less. 

“Yeah,” you answer, eyes drifting towards the magazine rack. Your face is plastered on the cover of a cheap tabloid. 

LOCAL POLITICIANS DAUGHTER STILL MISSING

Exclusive interview with family on PG. 6

Your eyes go wide and you turn your face further into Logan’s chest. He gives you a confused look before his eyes are snagged by the same thing that caught your attention. 

“Why don’t you go wait in the truck?” You nod and slip out of his hold, being mindful to keep your face away from the security camera near the front. 

That keeps happening. You hadn’t thought you would have made news, but your father was making this a part of his campaign. Claiming you’d been taken by a mutant bodyguard and that he’s been praying for your safe return. “Experts” have been claiming that with no ransom demanded you’re being turned into a message for anyone who goes against mutants. 

Now, mutants despise you and everyone else thinks you’re a martyr. In a few years, you’re sure you’ll be turned into some true crime documentary where people you’ve never met before are crying over your disappearance. 

You slide into the truck and let out a deep sigh. You’d thought running away would be freeing. But even a hundred miles from him, you can still feel the cold grip of your father’s hand around your throat. 

“Twenty on pump seven,” Logan tosses the cash on the counter, eyes drifting to you in the truck. It was instinct at this point, always keeping an eye on you. Especially since one of your father’s more fanatic supporters had spotted you in a shitty diner a week ago. They’d called the cops and tried to bar you and Logan from leaving. 

It hadn’t gone over well for him. 

He’d been trying to keep you a little more hidden since then, but it left a sour taste in his mouth. He’d gotten you out of that house to show you what real life was like, to give you a taste of freedom. 

He felt like he was no better than your father, keeping you cooped up and covered constantly. 

When the kid in front of him doesn’t say anything, Logan clears his throat. He gives him a quizzical look but the boy’s eyes are stuck on the door. 

“I swear I know her,” he mutters. Logan’s eyes drift towards the TV behind the counter and he sees an old news story of you. They’re using the footage of the acid attack, claiming you’ve always been the mutant movement’s target. 

“Can I get twenty on pump seven,” Logan repeats, voice firm. The kid finally looks at him and whatever expression Logan is wearing is enough for him to finally start moving. 

The second the receipt is in his hand he’s rushing out the door. He doesn’t know how long it’s going to take that dumbass to piece two and two together but he can’t risk dawdling. 

He fills the tank up, eyes scanning the gas station the entire time. He’s had a cloying sense of paranoia ever since the incident in the diner. He knows that at some point this little run of yours is going to come to an end. 

He doesn’t know if it’ll end with cops finding the two of you. Or if you’re going to realize the real world isn’t all that fun and leave him behind. He knows that a girl like you, one who's used to the finer things, is never going to be satisfied by the life he can offer. 

But he’s hoping that you come to your senses later rather than sooner. He’s enjoying traveling with you a lot more than he wants to admit. 

He gets in the truck, starts it up, and glances over at you. You smile, the smile that makes him feel things he doesn’t like admitting to himself or you. 

“All good?” You ask. 

He nods, driving off without a word because he doesn’t want to tell you the truth. Doesn’t want to admit what you both know to be a fact. The time you have together has an expiration date and he’s worried it’s creeping closer. 

Logan’s inside some shitty roadside motel. Whatever he’s talking about with the owner is clearly getting heated. You can see the way the anger’s growing on his face. His body is tensed up and he looks like he’s five seconds away from leaping over the counter and taking the greasy man leering at him down. 

There’s a final word exchanged between them and then Logan is storming back towards the truck. He slams the door closed so hard you’re surprised the windows don’t shatter. Normally, you sleep in the trailer. It’s not always the warmest or coziest, but you make it work. 

It’s too cold out tonight to do that and Logan doesn’t have a spare tank for the heating. He’d thought he’d had enough for a cheap room for tonight, but clearly, he doesn’t. There’s a tense silence in the truck as you mentally debate saying anything to him. 

His fists are wrapped so tightly around the steering wheel you can hear it creaking. You shift, sitting up straighter in your seat and uncurling your legs. There’s a stiffness to your joints that has you groaning. It’s involuntary, ripped out of you simply because you’ve been sitting for too long. 

It catches Logan’s attention and he glances over at you. There’s a resigned sort of guilt on his face and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. He’s used to this type of lifestyle, and sometimes you think he’s embarrassed to share it with you. 

You’d never judge him for roadside motels or living off cheap gas station meals. You know you were privileged living up with the wealth you did. But there is something infinitely more satisfying about being poor and happy than there ever was being rich and miserable.

“Look, kid,” he lets out a heavy sigh and you mentally prepare yourself for what you’ve been expecting. You were a fun time, a nice ride, but you’re becoming a burden and he can’t deal with it anymore. 

You let your nails dig into the thin skin of your palms so you can attempt to ground yourself. “I need to make some money tonight, so I just need you to bear with me for a while.”

Like there is every time he doesn’t boot you to the curb, a relieved rush of air expels from your chest almost violently.  “Okay,” you say tentatively, the word dragging out while you try and understand his meaning. 

“I just,” he stops and it looks like he’s struggling to find the words to say to you. You wait patiently for him to finish, or try to at least. “There’s a bar nearby. I’ll find some work there,” his words are ominous. They give you nothing and convey so much. 

Clearly, he’s hiding something from you. You can tell that much from the way he’s avoiding eye contact with you. He pulls out of the motel’s parking lot and turns the radio on. You’ve learned that's his way of telling you he doesn’t want to talk without being a dick about it. 

You want to respect his space because you still feel like an imposter. But it’s hard. He’s being oddly cagey about this. 

The drive is short but it feels like you’ve been transported to an entirely different town than the one you were in before. He takes only backroads and middle-class homes turn into shady shops with barbed fences. Caged dogs bark at the truck as it drives by and you get a sinking feeling in your gut. 

Perhaps it’s a little classist of you to automatically assume a few low-end homes equate to a bad neighborhood. But instinctually you know something is off about this place. 

He parks in front of a run-down bar. Even from here, you can hear loud shouts and jeering coming from inside. You don’t know what’s being said but they’re certainly passionate. Logan turns towards you, the expression on his face so serious you feel like you’re about to be scolded. 

“I need you to stay here. I won’t be gone long, just an hour at most. But you need to stay in the truck.”

Your jaw gapes and you scoff at him. “Logan, an hour that’s rid-”

He cuts you off with a stern call of your name. Your mouth snaps shut and you narrow your eyes at him, teeth gritting together to keep your tongue at bay. “Stay here, I mean it. Got it?”

You nod and he repeats your name, sounding aggrieved. “Fine,” you huff. “I got it.” He lingers for a moment. You don’t know if he doesn’t trust you or is just reluctant to leave you alone. You’re reluctant to be left alone, especially in a shady dark parking lot like this. But clearly whatever is going on inside is worse than whatever could happen to you out here. 

“I’ll be back soon,” he makes this whole thing sound so grave. It makes your brows furrow and doubt churn in your gut. What could he be doing in there that’s so awful?

He gets out and you watch his form under the flickering street lamps until you can’t see him anymore. You sit quietly in the truck for at least three minutes before you already feel the boredom set in. 

You’d thought you’d be able to last longer. You used to go for hours dissociating at your father’s galas. This is different, though. You’re a little afraid to let your guard down here. 

You try to listen to music but you feel bad wasting his gas so you just turn the truck off and huddle under a blanket in the trailer. You try and let yourself fall asleep but you don’t last long. 

It’s too cold outside to really get a good rest and you can hear people moving around outside the trailer. After about an hour of rolling around and frozen limbs, you figure enough is enough. 

As much as you don’t want to provoke Logan or give him any reason to get rid of you, you can’t stay in here all night. Besides, Logan said he wouldn’t be long, you can always just lie and say you were worried about him. 

Satisfied with your excuse you leave the comfort of your blanket behind and slip into Logan’s jacket. You tuck the truck keys in your pocket and walk out into the snowy night. It’s less cold outside than it was in the trailer, you can see why he wanted a motel room for the night. 

A few people linger by the cars, smoking and muttering to themselves. You slip past them, ignoring the feeling of their eyes burning into your skin. You’re sure it's because you look like you don’t belong here. 

The noise in the bar gets louder the closer you get and it reminds you of the night Logan had snuck you out of the house. But you’d had him to lean on, right now, until you find him, you’re on your own. For all the noise coming from the building, the bar is surprisingly empty. 

Only a few old men are sitting around, drinking beers in silence. The bartender cleans glasses behind the counter, sparing you an odd look before getting back to work. There’s not very far for you to look before you figure out that Logan isn’t anywhere nearby. 

“Excuse me?” The bartender spares you a fleeting glance before barely grunting in greeting. 

The floor underneath you tremors and you glance down at it in surprise. You can hear something going on underneath. You figure that has to be where all the noises are coming from. “I’m looking for someone. Tall, mean as hell, he’s got this hair,” you swoop your hands up by the sides of your head, trying to mimic the odd fluff of Logan’s hair. 

“Downstairs.” You nod and move around the bar, trying to get to the door behind him. He reaches out, grabbing your bicep and stopping you before you can get far. “It's a forty-dollar entrance fee, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrows in confusion and you frown as you dig around in your jacket pockets. You’ve come too far to be deterred now. Ignoring the moral implications, you slip Logan’s wallet out of his jacket and give the man forty dollars. 

He nods towards the door and you give him a weak thank you as you slip past him. Opening the door is like breaking a seal. The noises bombard you almost immediately, so much clearer than they were before. 

You still can’t understand what they’re screaming but there’s a violent atmosphere slipping around you as you head down the stairs. The heady smell of cigars and cigarettes threatens to suffocate you. Your eyes water at the smoke in the air. 

You’d think you’d have gotten used to secondhand smoking after being around Logan, but he’s less inclined to hotbox the car if you’re beside him. The second your feet hit the floor you’re being jostled to the side violently by the people around you. 

It’s nearly impossible to elbow your way through the crowd, but you’re determined to figure out what’s in the middle of the cage that’s got them all excited. You can hear the people around you screaming out bets and numbers you don’t understand. 

For one nauseating moment, you think this might be a dog fighting ring, that Logan gambles on it to earn his money. It makes you want to turn around, to shield yourself from the truth. But this is something he tried to keep hidden from you and you need to know the truth about whoever you’re traveling with. 

You can hear the announcer, but you can’t get close enough to see anything yet. “Are you gonna let this man walk away with your money?” There’s a resounding NO! from the crowd that makes you jump. 

A booming voice shouts over the throng of voices, “I’ll take him!” 

“Our savior ladies and gentlemen!” You shove through two men, ignoring the way they complain about how their beer sloshes on their sleeves. 

“Hey-” You glance over your shoulder as one of them reaches for you.  You flick your wrist, sending him and his friend tumbling back into the crowd. You roll your eyes and turn back towards the cage. 

Your eyes widen and so do Logan’s as you finally see what exactly is going on. He’s cage fighting, this is what he’d been so secretive about. Honestly, it’s a relief compared to the brutality you were bracing yourself for. 

You can see his lips starting to form the shape of your name but the man from before is barrelling into his side as the bell goes off. You wince, jumping away from the cage as you hear the meaty impact of his fist against Logan’s face. 

The people near you scream, shouting for Logan’s blood. It’s easy to figure out that he’s been beating everyone he’s gone up against based on some bloody faces in the crowd. It’s smart, easy money. He can always heal, and can never really be beaten, not when he’s literally got fists of steel. 

You’re surprised that no one’s ever caught onto this scam of his. You also wonder why he had been so adamant about you not seeing this. Sure, it’s brutal watching blood spray against the mat. But you don’t care. Besides, he’s ridiculously attractive in just his jeans as he pummels into some guy. 

Maybe that’s not a normal line of thinking. 

You shake your head, shelving that for later as the fight dies down. The man is limp on the mat of the cage and Logan is leaning against the wall, smoking a cigar and pointedly not looking at you. 

You feel that familiar twisting feeling in your stomach and wonder if this was a horrible idea. You should have just stayed in the car like he asked. You’re sure it would have only been another hour of tirelessly rolling around before he came back. But you couldn’t help yourself. 

He tells you so little about himself. If you get a chance to learn more, you’re going to pounce on the opportunity. Maybe it was a violation of his trust. You sincerely doubt that he would ever willingly have revealed this sort of lifestyle to you, though. 

He seems to be under the same misguided intention that you need to be sheltered. It reminds you a little of your father. That might be a cruel comparison but it’s the same suffocating feeling of being kept in the dark to suit their needs. 

The guilt you’d been holding unfurls and blossoms into anger. You find yourself retreating away from the cage and rushing back up the stairs of the bar. You don’t want to watch him fight any longer. You don’t want to look at him. 

You just want him to treat you like an equal. Not like some little girl who’s going to run at the first sign of things getting hard. 

You burst through the door of the bar, ignoring the cold laughter of the bartender behind you. He clearly seemed to think you couldn’t handle a little blood. He wasn’t the only one. 

You’re only a couple of feet from the truck when you hear footsteps loudly stomping through the snow behind you. “What the hell were you doing?” You scoff, unbelieving that he would have the gall to shout at you. 

You whirl around on him and it catches him off guard. His right foot slides against the slush as he tries to stop himself from ramming into you. “I’m not a little girl, Logan! You don’t need to hide stuff like that from me.”

He crosses his arms and glares down at you. “I wasn’t hiding anything,” he insists. But the tone of his voice gives him away. He doesn’t like that he was caught. “I don’t need to tell you jackshit about what I do for money.”

You can’t believe how he sounds right now. Why is he getting so defensive about this? “I don’t care what you do for money, alright. I just don’t get why you felt like I couldn’t know about this.” You hate the way the hurt is audible in your voice. You wear your heart on your sleeve, even when you try and cover it. 

In the same way, he’s masking his feelings with anger, so are you. Just with less success. Something draws across his face, some emotion you can’t discern. His voice goes cold and quiet as he shoves an envelope full of cash into your hands. 

“Go back to the motel. Get a room.”

He storms past you and walks towards the trailer. You follow after him, slightly dumbfounded by how he’s behaving. He rips his motorcycle out from the back and rolls it into a parking spot. You watch him do all this with your tongue glued to the roof of your mouth. 

It’s only when he starts to head back towards the bar that you realize he’s not coming with you. “Logan!” You call out, trailing after him slightly. He barely turns back to face you. “Are you,” the words die on your tongue and you can’t find it in yourself to finish. 

Are you angry?

Are you leaving?

Are you going to ditch me at the next bus stop?

Instead of asking any of your ridiculously pining questions, you turn on your heel and storm towards the truck. You rip the door open with more force than necessary and drive off without looking back at him. But you know he watches, know he keeps an eye on you until he can’t see you anymore. 

Your rides with him are normally silent, but this one feels painfully so. 

You nearly get a room with two beds. But you feel like if you do it will be a horrendous mistake. Reluctantly, you give the man behind the counter enough for a room with one bed large enough for the both of you. 

You’re not exactly excited about sharing a bed with him, not after how he behaved tonight. You grumble to yourself as you drag your bag inside and toss it on the ground. You picture putting up a wall of pillows between the two of you, just to be petty. 

It’s as you’re showering that you realize you might not even have to. He might not come to join you tonight. He won’t know what room you’re in. And he’d made it pretty clear how pissed he was at you for sneaking into the bar. 

Maybe you’ve finally pushed him too far. You’ve been toying with the boundaries of his patience for a while. Little tests to determine whether he truly wants you around simply to have a warm body ready beside him. Or if he wants you because he genuinely cares for you. 

You suppose tonight, whether you want it or not, you’ll finally have the truth. 

The thought keeps you awake. You toss and you turn for hours, fighting with yourself. You should be happy, finally figuring out what’s been haunting you. But you’re not. You’re petrified. You’d rather keep living a lie than finally accept that he truly doesn’t want you. 

You throw the covers off, the scratchy material only further adding to your irritation. You stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door closed behind you. You turn on the sink splashing some cool water over your face to try and rid yourself of the warmth lingering under your skin. You don’t know if this feeling of being uncomfortable in your own body is from pent-up anger or anxiety. 

You don’t care. You just want to sleep this night away and pretend it never happened. But, of course, the universe has other plans. The motel door creaks open as you’re hovering over the sink, debating whether or not you’re nauseous enough to throw up. 

You tilt your head slightly towards the sound. Growing up in your house, filtering through rooms like an unheard ghost, allowed you to get good at recognizing footsteps. Logan has finally decided to grace you with his presence. 

You listen to him as he creeps silently across the room, landing on the squeaky bed. You press your ear against the door and can hear the way the sheets rustle and he cusses under his breath. There’s worry staining his voice and you figure you shouldn’t drag this on much longer. 

You open the bathroom door and flip the switch, turning the lamps on like a disappointed mother waiting up for her teenager. You cross your arms mutely and lean against the doorframe as he winces under the sudden light. 

He jumps, just slightly, and glares over at you. “Thought you weren’t here,” he accuses. He tries sounding angry, but you have a sudden rush of clarity in that moment. Where you would normally focus only on him being upset with you, you can see the truth of his concern.

Same as you, he doesn’t know where he stands in this whole situation. You doubt he had a clear plan when he rescued you from your tower like some ridiculous storybook knight. He most likely thought that you left, the same way you thought he would. 

You remain silent, though, still a little too flustered to speak coherently. Instead, you examine him. There are cuts and blood all over his shirt. Splatters of it on his face. Though, you know if you looked there would be no physical evidence of him ever being hurt. 

His brows furrow the longer you stare, a wall building between the two of you. “Kid?” He questions, equal parts worried and defensive. Does he really think you actually give a fuck about him fighting?

You shake your head and walk back into the bathroom. You rustle around in the cabinet underneath the sink until you find a washcloth. Wetting it, you bring it back out to him. You station yourself between his spread legs, holding the cloth between you like a peace offering. 

He looks doubtful as he glances between you and it. Finally, he lets out a rough sigh and simply nods his head. But when he reaches for it you snatch it back, much to his chagrin. You offer him a small smile and tilt his chin up towards you, gently wiping some of the dried blood off his cheeks. 

He doesn’t flinch or hiss away from the less-than-gentle fabric. He stares at you unblinkingly, like if he closes his eyes for a moment he’ll wake up and this will all have been a dream. “You don’t have to do this, kid.”

You roll your eyes and crane your neck to get a better look at him. “Would you shut up?” You whisper teasingly. 

His lips quirk slightly and you can see his shoulder slump in relief at the sound of your voice. “So, she can talk.” You can’t help the little laugh that comes out of you. He grins fully at that and his hands come up to rest on your hips. 

His thumbs rub soothing circles along the sides of your waist as his hands dip a little lower. “What are you doing?” Your hand drifts down to his neck to wipe some blood off there as well. 

He shakes his head and shrugs, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You lift your gaze to his and your lips fall flat, “Logan-”

He cuts you off before you can finish. In one smooth motion, his hands drop to wrap around your thighs. He lifts you slightly and drops you onto his lap. He grins at the slight huff of surprise that rushes out of you. 

His arms go back to your waist, pulling you closer to him and grinding you a little against him. You bite your lip to stop any noises from escaping. As much as you wouldn’t mind what he’s thinking, you need to talk. 

“Logan,” you scold. 

He smirks and tilts his head patronizingly, “Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“It’s not happening,” you tell him firmly, hand still working on cleaning him. 

He sighs and one of his arms drops away from you. He cups your hand in his, stilling your movements and forcing you to meet his gaze. Gently, he takes the cloth from you and tosses it somewhere you can’t see. “I’m fine,” he whispers, eyes searching yours. 

It’s hard meeting his gaze. The worry and anxiety from the night still weigh heavily on your shoulders. He repeats himself, fingers tilting your chin up to face him. “Alright?”

“I don’t care,” the words come rushing out of you before you can stop them. His brows raise in shock and he gives a slight chuckle of amusement. A lump grows in your throat and your eyes grow wide. “Wait, I don’t mean-”

You cut yourself off and rub your hands over your face, trying to get your head on right. Logan’s patient, rubbing your back and clearly trying not to laugh at you. You finally take in a deep breath and face him again. 

“I don’t care about the fighting,” you can see his shoulders tense slightly like he doesn’t believe you. “I don’t care, Logan. You do what you have to survive and I’m not gonna judge you for that.”

“What if I enjoy it?” He cuts you off, tone harsh as he glares down at you. There's experience in how quickly he doubts you, how quickly he tries to get you to change your mind about him.

You wonder how many times he’s been rejected just for being a mutant. You’ve only ever been rejected by one person because only he ever knew. Your father. And that hurt enough for one lifetime. 

You can’t imagine going for as long as he has and constantly being called a monster for something he can’t control. Your brows furrow and you lean into him until your lips are brushing. He remains stiff beneath you but you don’t let it deter you. 

“I don’t care,” you tell him, pressing your lips to his before slowly pulling back. You wait for him to respond, physically or verbally, but he��s still looking at you with that cold unfamiliar gaze. 

You wonder if maybe it was a mistake, to bring it up at all. But just as the thought comes he’s surging forward. His lips catch yours, his hands digging so desperately into your shirt you know it rips. 

Your arms go to his neck, holding onto him so you don’t slip off his lap. You haven't been this close for a few days. You think it might have made you both feel on edge. There’s a relief that comes from not just having sex with him, but also just being intimate and close to one another. 

It’s a reminder that you’re not alone, that there’s someone here beside you to be a partner and a pillar of stability. You’ve never had that before. Someone that you can rely on and trust fully. You don’t think he has either. 

He craves you the same way you do him. Each kiss, every shared breath, is treated like it will be your last. You don’t know when your father will finally catch up to the two of you. You don’t know when the police might finally recognize Logan. 

There’s no definitive future for either of you. It’s a real possibility that this could be your last night together. And neither of you wants to be upset with each other. Because you were never truly mad. You were always just worried. 

Your hands drop to his shirt, dipping to find the holes in it from his fight and ripping at the flimsy fabric until you can just yank it off. He smiles against your lips at the eager way you move atop him. But he can’t tease you, he’s already annoyed with the buttons on your shirt. 

He pulls back, glaring down at the fabric like it's insulting him. Without another word, he slices through it, leaving it in tatters on your shoulder. You grin, shrugging the rest of it off. “That was yours.”

He grips your hips tightly and leaves marks where his fingers are as a reminder that he was here. He flips you over, leaves you breathless as he hovers over you. “I really don’t give a fuck, sweetheart.”

You’re addicted to his voice. How breathy and desperate it is when he’s with you. It’s a level of vulnerability you rarely get to see from him. He can’t hide himself when he’s with you like this. He wants you just as badly as you do him. 

It gives you a confidence rush like no other, makes your ego grow ten times its size. If you can make a man like this fall to his knees from nothing more than a kiss, then you’re capable of a lot more than you give yourself credit for. 

But you don’t want that tonight. You reach for him before he can go much further, grabbing him by his hair and tugging until you know it stings. He nearly fucking moans at your rough touch, eyes fluttering open to meet yours. The green of them has been wholly consumed by his desire for you and it makes you ache for him. 

“Not tonight,” you tell him. There’s no room for argument in your tone. As much as he might want to taste you, devour you, all you want is to be as close to him as possible. You want to be covered and filled by him in every way you can be. 

His head falls against your thigh, a rough groan tumbling from his throat at your words. You drag him towards you, pulling him up your body until you’re face to face. You smile softly up at him, lifting your head so you can meet his lips again. 

You’ll never get enough of kissing him, of tasting him. Sometimes you have to stop yourself from reaching across the seats and kissing him while he drives. You’ve nearly made him wreck a few times and forced him to pull over so you could both have some fun in the back. 

Addiction isn’t the right word for what you feel for him. It brings along its own negative connotations. The taint of dependency and toxicity. With addiction, it’s a parasitic relationship, hurts you but makes you feel good. 

This is just goodness. This is a kind touch for the first time in your life and finally feeling safe in someone elses arms. This is opening yourself up to him fully and not once feeling like you need to mold yourself into something else to make him happy. It’s accepting him as he is, a broken dog who likes to fight to punish himself. You don’t want to change him or make him “better.” You just want him to be happy. 

You use your powers to help yourself, flipping him over and straddling his hips. You drag his jeans down his legs and flick your wrist, sending them flying somewhere across the room. He watches you with eyes filled with awe, hands drifting over your curves like something to be worshipped. 

You know he’s waiting for it, for you to sink yourself down on him and finally be filled. But you wait, hover over him even as the muscles of your thighs tremor. “You don’t hide things from me anymore,” you warn him. You’re not asking, for once, you’re demanding what you want. 

He doesn’t look angry like you’d been expecting. Instead, it only seems to turn him on more. “Ya know,” his hands drift to your hips, dragging you down and over his cock until it’s wet with your want. Your nails dig into his chest until there’s blood beading under them and you’re trying not to let your noises slip out. 

“I kinda like it when you’re all bossy like this.” 

“Logan,” you grit his name out. It takes everything in you not to look as affected by him as you feel. “No more hiding shit.”

He leans up on his elbows. His hand drifts to the nape of your neck and drags you down until your lips are nearly touching his. “Yeah, I got it, sweetheart.”

Like a taut rope being cut, you sink into him, your hips finally drop and he guides you down every inch of him until you feel like you’re so full you can’t breathe. He lets you linger for a moment, and get used to this feeling while he steals the very air from your lungs. 

He’s greedy with the way he touches you. His hands always moving like he’ll never fully be satisfied with how much of you he can feel. He’s always reaching for you like he needs to make sure you’re actually real and not just something he’s dreamt up. 

Even with how impatient he is, you’re always the one that moves first. You roll your hips over him, moaning at how he feels inside you. It’s like he’s perfectly molded you around him. He always manages to brush against the spots that make your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

The second your hips begin to roll, he’s wrapping his heavy arms around you, grinding you down into him. He keeps you trapped in place, using you like a toy as he bounces you on his lap. Your mind is fuzzy, every bad thought and feeling shoved out while he makes you go dumb on his dick.

You love how boneless you go. You don’t have to think now, don’t have to worry. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, shifting yourself further on top of him until you're practically burying yourself under his skin. 

Not thinking always comes with its own consequences, though. Your powers slip a little out of your grasp. The walls trembling and the drawers and cabinets opening and closing. The both of you have gotten used to the noise, know how to drown it out, and just focus on each other. 

One of these days, you’ll need to figure out a way to have sex with him without bringing the room down around you. That’s a problem for later though. His whispered praises and grunts of your name filter through your mind until there’s nothing left inside you but him. 

“Fuck,” he hisses in your ear, “you’re so fucking tight around me. You close?” He grunts, hand drifting down to rub tight circles on your clit. You dig your nails into his shoulders, nodding your head frantically against his neck. “Words, sweetheart.”

“Shit,” you can barely think of your own damn name. Let alone what you want from him. “Fuck off,” you hiss. He chuckles at the attitude and you almost expect him to stop, just to be a dick because you were a brat. 

But he’s just as close as you are and he’s too selfish to tease. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes down on you as your body shakes against his. He follows quickly after you, warmth shooting up inside you and almost leaking down your thighs. You feel stuffed, like your body’s been pushed to the limit and further. 

You both sit together in silence for a while. You ignore the way your skin sticks to his uncomfortably, instead reveling in the warmth he provides you. Anyone else, and you’d be rushing to get away from them. 

You’re always extra sensitive after sex, every little thing setting you off. But there’s a comfort to the way his hairy ass chest brushes against your breasts and his arms squeeze around you. It’s a nice grounding feeling. 

The tips of your fingers drift over his arms, following the path of his veins and brushing against his fingers lazily. He flips his palm over, encasing your hand in his own wordlessly. Little things like that ease your worries. Makes you feel like something more than just a quick fuck. 

He breaks the silence first, which is rare for him. “I’m sorry about tonight.”

You frown and peer up at him. “I told you, I don’t care about the fighting.”

He sighs and shakes his head, “Not that. I shouldn’t have gotten so fucking mad at you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” You want to interrupt him, assure him that you both acted pretty childishly. 

But you understand it’s difficult for him to express himself verbally. He usually prefers silent acts of apologies and expression, you don’t want to mess him up before he can get out what he wants to say. 

“I don’t want to be like your father.” Your face screws up a little and you shift uncomfortably on his lap. He loosens his grip, giving you room to leave if you want to, but you stay put. “I’m trying not to coddle you, sweetheart, or hide you away from the world. But I don’t like you seeing that shit.”

“You’re not my dad, Logan. He wouldn’t give me a choice,” you try and joke but it just seems to make him more irritated. Sighing you straighten up, bracing yourself on his chest and staring down at him. 

Your head tilts to the side in contemplation and he almost looks uncomfortable under the attention. “I’m not so fragile or sheltered that I’m going to shatter at the first taste of the real world, Logan. I mean, for god’s sake, I’ve had acid thrown at me and bodyguards since I could walk. I know how dangerous it is. Whatever you want to hide from me, I’ve seen worse.”

You let your words sink in for a moment and he looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time. You know that it’s odd for him, to comprehend a girl who was afraid to go into a bar swallowing down an illegal fighting ring like it’s nothing. But you’re not lying. Everyday little things are what you’re unused to. But you’ve lived alongside violence your whole life. 

“Look, fighting, sleeping in shitty motels, and your truck, that doesn't bother me. But I don’t like when you hide things and I don’t,” you take in a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for the worst. This is what you’ve been trying to tell him for weeks. 

A few little words have your tongue tied and make you desperate to cover yourself up again. He can see the shift in your expression, and feel how tense you get. He sits up a little more, thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your hand. 

“I don’t want to just be someone to fuck you, Logan. I didn’t come with you so you’d have easy access pussy,” he looks thoroughly amused at your crude words, but there’s something else lingering in his expression. Something like hurt. 

“Is that what you think?” He asks, tone distant. You can’t find the words so you simply nod. He sighs and shakes his head. He eases you off his lap and you worry you’ve truly fucked this up somehow. 

He goes into the bathroom, returns with a wet washcloth. He still doesn’t speak and you’re on edge the entire time he cleans the both of you up. You can see he’s thinking, biting his tongue, and trying to figure out what it is that he wants to say to you. 

You’re impatient, five seconds away from just demanding a response from him. He tosses the cloth and drops into bed beside you. You draw the sheets up to your chest, glaring down at him while he rubs his hands over his face with a tired sigh. 

When he opens his eyes again he laughs at how close you are. “Jesus,” he wraps an arm around your waist, dragging you down into his chest even though you fight him. It must be easier for him to speak when you’re not staring at him. 

“I didn’t go back for you so I could fuck you, kid. I… care about you,” there’s a long pause before he says the word care. You think it’s funny, that he can’t bring himself to admit what he actually feels. But you’ll take it, you’ll give him the time he needs to come to terms with the truth. 

For now, you let yourself fall asleep, feeling just a little bit better about the road ahead. 

Things get easier between the two of you. And somehow harder at the same time. You don’t walk on eggshells around each other, no longer afraid of scaring the other off now. Which also means that you find it easier to bicker with him about little things. Like, not just tossing his trash everywhere in the truck. You’re practically living out of the trailer, the least he could do is help you keep it tidy. 

You know it’s weird for him. Suddenly having someone nag at him not to be a slob or to take breaks in between driving so he doesn’t wear himself out. It’s an adjustment you see him struggle with sometimes. 

You try not to be too pushy, but there’s only so many times you can flick crumbs from his burgers off your seat before you lose it. “Logan!” You snap, glaring at him as you stand up only to find chip crumbs squished into the fabric of your leggings. 

He glances over at you and shrugs, “What?” 

You glance between the crumbs and him with a glare but he doesn’t seem to be connecting the dots. “Fucks sake,” you grumble, passive-aggressively wiping the truck seat off before you slam the door and storm towards the diner. 

You’re sick of being cramped in the truck. You’re sick of the greasy food. You’ve begun to crave salads lately. Which is beyond weird. But the novelty of shitty food and milkshakes wore off a hundred miles ago. 

Logan catches up to you, huffing with irritation as he swings the door open for you. You take a seat in the booth near the corner, snatching up the menu and pointedly staring at it and not him. “Really?” He demands. When you don’t answer he tips the menu down, forcing you to meet his gaze. “What is your problem?” He hisses, trying not to draw attention to you both. 

You lean in, voice a harsh whisper. “How hard is it to just not make a mess? We live out of that damn truck, the least you could do is keep your crumbs on your side.”

He rolls his eyes and leans back in the booth. You’re both sick of having the same fight. But there’s really nothing else to do anymore. When you’re stuck together for so long, it’s the small things that get to you. 

You’re going to say more but the waitress pops in front of you out of nowhere. “Hi!” She beams and gives you her name, the bows in her hair trembling at how hyper she is. “What can I get you both today?”

You and Logan place your orders, and he shoots you an odd look when you only order the salad. “We’ve got a couple more hours ahead of us, you’re gonna get hungry.”

You cross your arms and shrug, “No, I won’t.”

He licks his lips, sucking on his teeth and leaning against the table. “Yes, you will,” he argues with a stern voice. 

You narrow your eyes at him and give him a bitter smile. “Kiss. My. Ass.”

Your stomach grumbles for the third time and you know that Logan can hear it. You’re pointedly not making eye contact with him. It feels like it's louder than the music at this point and you really don’t want to prove him right. 

Without a word, he begins to dig around in the center console. You glance towards him, confused, “What’re you doing?”

He doesn’t say anything, just tosses whatever he’s grabbed onto your lap. You glance down at it and frown. It’s somehow cold as you unwrap it. You pull the parchment paper away and let out a relieved sigh. 

He ordered you a wrap from the diner without you realizing. You take a bite, your hunger steadily easing away. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, pointedly looking out the window. 

He glances over at you and scoffs. “What was that? Couldn’t hear ya, kid.” 

You roll your eyes and turn to glare at him. He’s already looking at you, a teasing tilt to his lips. “I said I’m sorry,” you snap. “I shouldn’t have been a bitch.”

He shakes his head and waves you off. “I haven’t exactly been pleasant myself. I’ll,” he huffs lowly and forces the words out, “clean up more.”  

“I think we’ve just been stuck on the road too long. We’re gonna end up driving each other insane.”

His eyes glance along the signs on the highway. There’s a notice for food and shopping at the next exit and he nods towards it. “We’ll stop at a motel for a few nights. Take a break.” You want to ask him if he’s sure that’s smart. 

It seems risky, to slow down for so long. But you need to walk around, breathe fresh air, and stretch your legs. You’re too selfish to tell him not to stop and keep going. Instead, you nod and smile at him. “That sounds really nice.”

He gives you a slight smile that’s gone as quickly as it came, reaching over and resting his hand on your thigh. You move closer to him and he turns the radio up. You wonder why he doesn’t want to talk anymore but you don’t push it. You’re too excited to finally get out of the truck again. 

The town is nice enough. It’s small, with only a few shops where you buy some new shirts to replace one’s that Logan has torn up. The motel you’re staying at doesn’t have a washing machine so you have to use the laundromat to wash your clothes. 

Logan says he’s going to see if he can find a quick job nearby. You wonder if that means a real job or a more bloody one. You decide not to ask questions, instead taking the little change you have and figuring you’ll try to get the smell of grease out of all your clothes. 

As you load the machine up and put your quarters in you can’t escape the feeling of someone watching you. You’ve been on high alert ever since Logan stole you away from the house. But this is different. 

You’ve gotten used to your own paranoia, you know when it’s real or not. You walk away from the machine, glancing out at the glass walls near the front and trying to see if there’s someone out there. This, oddly enough, doesn’t feel like a police stakeout where they’re going to track you back to the motel and bust Logan. 

This is something different. There is a deep-seated primal fear in you that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart races as your eyes search the dark street outside. What little glow comes from the streetlights isn’t enough for you to clearly make anything out. 

But you feel them, tracking your every move. They’re somewhere nearby, you can’t see them but they see you. You feel sick to your stomach. You glance at the door before racing towards it. You turn the lock, slowly backing away and keeping your eyes trained on the street. 

You look into the shadows and find shapes and movements where there are none. Your eyes spin as your brain crafts a horrible image of some monster waiting outside for you. When the timer for the washer goes off you let out a sharp scream, spinning around and clutching your chest as you glare at it. 

“Fuck’s sake,” you mutter, angrily running your hand over your face and trying to catch your breath. You put the clothes in the dryer and by the time you're done, the feeling is gone. You don’t know if they were never there to begin with, or if they got bored and left. 

You’d told Logan that you didn’t need a ride, you’d just walk the short distance back to the motel. Now, you use the phone on the front counter and call him, telling him you’ve changed your mind after all. 

By the time he picks you up, he looks incredibly concerned. You know you sounded panicked when you called him. You still feel upset about the whole thing. But when he asks what’s wrong you just tell him you got a little scared walking back in the dark. 

You don’t tell him someone was watching you because you know he’ll make you pack up and leave again. You want some stability. Even if it's just for a week. So, as stupid as it is, you lie to him and say everything’s fine. 

When you try to go to sleep that night you feel like you’re being watched again. Even with the curtains closed their eyes burn into you. You toss and turn under the heavy weight of the sheets, struggling to get comfortable. 

There’s a low grumble behind you before Logan throws his arm over your waist and tugs you back into his chest. “Stop movin’ around,” he demands, his voice barely audible. You smile a little at how tired he sounds before forcing yourself to settle down. 

He doesn’t give you much choice, using his body as a weight to keep you pinned. You still feel their gaze, even more now, but his proximity brings you enough comfort to get a little bit of restless sleep. 

Logan’s up before you, he always is. He comes in with cheap coffee and free breakfast from the lounge. You push the sheets off your legs, your shirt sticking to your back from the cold sweat of your nervous sleeping. You feel a little more at ease this morning. 

You wonder if you’re developing some late-in-life fear of the dark. You don’t know why you were so upset last night, you feel perfectly fine now. It’s almost like it was all one bad dream. Logan walks over, handing you the coffee wordlessly and rustling around in your bag for something. 

He pulls out the envelope of cash you keep stashed away and frowns at the contents. “Found a job,” he mutters, stuffing the envelope away and turning back towards you. He leans against the desk, face pensive. 

You rub your eyes, trying to wake yourself up a bit more so you sound coherent. “What is it?” You take a sip of the coffee and your face screws up at the aftertaste. 

“Fighting,” his tone is clipped and you wonder what’s got him up in arms. He walks past you, heading into the bathroom, and closing the door behind him. You tilt your head, gaze following him curiously. He doesn’t normally close the door, he usually likes to invite you to join him. 

Something happened and you wonder if he’s hiding the same thing you are. You close your eyes, taking in a deep breath and closing your mind off to the fear from last night. 

By the time Logan is done in the bathroom, you’re feeling more awake. You can’t just dismiss what happened last night. You’ve never gotten scared like that before. You refuse to ignore your instincts, but you’re also not going to let whoever that was terrify you into going back on the road. 

You don’t want things between you and Logan to grow more tense than they already are. The time away from each other yesterday helped a lot. You no longer want to strangle him when you hear him breathe. You’ll just stick closer to him today and see if you feel the eyes on you again tonight. 

“So,” you start, testing the waters to see if he’s still in a bad mood. He glances over at you, eyebrows quirked in curiosity but you’re tongue-tied as you stare at him. However many weeks you’ve been with him and you’re never gonna get used to seeing him straight out of the shower. 

The towel is draped low on his hips, giving you a taunting look at what lies underneath the white cloth. Droplets drip down his abs and you’ve never wanted to be water more than you do right now. It’s unfair, just how attractive he is. 

You always forget what you’re going to say. You can’t think when he has a shirt off, it’s infuriating. Scoffing, you turn away from him and shake your head. You hear him chuckle, you know he knows what you’re thinking about. 

“What’s wrong?” He creeps up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and tugging you back into his chest. 

“Logan, dammit,” water soaks into the back of your shirt uncomfortably and you tilt your head to glare at him. 

He smirks down at you, “Cat got your tongue, kid?”

You roll your eyes and push away from him. “I can’t even remember what I was going to say.” You snatch a shirt from the dresser and shove it into his hands. “Put this on.”

He scoffs and gives you a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?” You wait for him, gaze expectant. You’re not gonna be able to think when he looks like this. Sighing, he acquieses and tugs the shirt on. His lips fall into a sarcastic line, “Happy?”

Like a switch being flipped you finally remember what you were going to ask him. “The job you told me about. Where is it?”

You can see on his face how little he wants to divulge that information to you. But you know he’s going to tell you. You two made a deal not to hide things, although, you might be breaking your side of that right now. 

“Some shitty bar a few miles from here. Listen-”

You’re not gonna like it. 

I don’t want you tagging along. 

You should just stay here and read or some shit.

You wonder which one he’ll pick today. “You wouldn’t like it, it’s just a shitty little place where I can make some quick cash.” Look at that, it’s rarely ever your first pick excuse. You must be getting better at reading him. 

“I’ll come with you,” you tell him because you’re not asking. You’re not staying by yourself tonight and you both need the money. You grin at him even as his face falls in disappointment. “Maybe I’ll fight.”

He doesn’t even say anything and you immediately regret what you said. The look he’s giving you would put you six feet under if it could. “It was just a joke,” you mutter.

“Wasn’t funny, kid,” he tells you, tone clipped as he moves around you to grab his jeans. “I don’t even want you in those places, let alone fuckin’ fighting.”

You purse your lips and take a seat on the bed, handing him his jacket when he begins looking for it. “I have abilities too, you know. Maybe I could win a fight.”

“Don’t,” he snaps. “I win because I can take the hits people deal me. You can’t,” you don’t bother arguing with him that you heal too. You understand what he means. You might be able to recover physically, but there’s a mental aspect to being knocked on the ground. There’s humiliation and fear in cage fights, you probably wouldn’t be able to handle that side of it. 

He waits for you to say anything else but when he realizes you’ve dropped the subject he lets out a relieved sigh. “You’ll stay in the truck,” he tries. 

You give him a deadpan look, slipping the keys out of your purse and handing them to him. “No way in hell, but I’ll stay by the bar if it makes you feel better.” He stays silent and nods but you know he’ll try and convince you otherwise when you actually get to the place. Tough luck, though, you don’t think it’s safe for either of you to be apart tonight. Even if it’s just staying in the truck. 

The setup of these places is always the same. Though, this bar seems to be particularly disgusting in comparison to other ones you’ve been to. You position yourself near the corner, your back to the wall so you’re less likely to be noticed in the crowd. 

The fights never last more than a few minutes. And that’s if Logan is feeling generous. Most of the time you only need to be here an hour before people get pissed off and go home. Someone bumps into you and you hear a small, “I’m sorry,” before they rush to claim a stool. 

The crowd’s already begun to die out. Most leave while they still have a little money left in their pockets. You duck your head down, catching the eye of the girl who’d bumped into you. She looks young and incredibly skittish. Her eyes keep darting to the tip jar near the bartender. 

She quietly asks for water but the bartender just shakes his head, tugging the jar closer to him. You don’t know why you’re drawn to her, maybe it’s because she looks like one of those sad pound puppies, but you take a seat beside her. 

“Water,” you order, slipping him some change. When he gives it to you, you pass it off to her, spotting the greedy way she eyes it. You know a runaway when you see one, she clearly needs a little help. But Logan’s got enough on his shoulders, you’re not gonna bug him with adding another person to the mix. 

“Thank you,” she gulps it down like she hasn’t drunk anything in days. You feel your stomach twist with empathy. What little cash you have in your wallet, you slip into her bag as you pass by her. Logan will have made enough for it to be spared and it's the least you can do. 

Not everyone is as lucky as you to have someone help them navigate a new life. 

Logan grabs his jacket, wiping blood off from under his nose and heading towards you. You know he’ll want a drink before you go, he always does. Before he can say anything someone’s shouting the name he uses in the cage. “Hey, Wolverine! I want my fucking money back.”

The big man he’d knocked down earlier takes a step towards him. His friend tries to hold him back, but there’s no stopping him. He’s already had his ass kicked once, what makes him think this is going to be any different?

“Not your money anymore, bub.” Logan scoffs and turns back towards you. You just want to leave now. You don’t want to stay for a drink or go get something to eat. You feel the eyes on you again, but when you turn to find them there’s no one there but the girl. 

And she’s not looking at you. Her eyes are wide and staring at something else. “Behind you!” She screeches, and both you and Logan whirl around to find the man barreling towards him with a knife outstretched. 

Logan moves so quickly that you stumble back slightly. He grabs the guy's arm, twisting his wrist until the knife drops to the ground. He shoves him back against the wall, claws out and pinning him there.

“Shit,” you whisper, glancing around as the few patrons of the bar stare in horror at Logan. The people counting his money stop and tuck it back into the cash box. You clench your eyes shut in irritation, he’s not gonna be getting paid tonight, that’s for sure. 

There’s a strange noise behind you, like someone cocking a gun. You turn around slowly, gasping when you see the bartender pointing the barrel of his shotgun at your chest. He’s not aiming it at Logan, he’s aiming it at you. Like he somehow knows that’s the only way to get him to back off. 

It’s not like he was going to kill the guy, besides, he came at him with a knife first. What’s the difference if Logan’s a mutant? He’s defending himself. Why does no one understand that?

“Get out of my bar,” the old man warns lowly, taking a step closer to you. Logan turns around and finally spots what’s going on. 

“Pay me and I’ll be on my way.” You know you’d be able to heal from the shotgun blast, but you don’t exactly want to go through it. 

The old man laughs and shakes his head. “You’re not getting paid, buddy. Get the fuck out of my bar before I put a hole in your little girlfriend.”

Your eyes narrow in disbelief. You debate with yourself for a moment, if this is smart or not. But the guy’s being a prick and you’re sick of people treating mutants like they’re less than nothing. You flick your wrist and the shotgun goes flying out of his hand. 

You glance over at the cashbox and it comes floating towards you, landing easily in your outstretched palm. “Be thankful I’m not blowing a hole in you,” you warn, glaring at the cowering man. You walk forward and he stumbles back and you try not to focus on the sick feeling of satisfaction it brings you. You grab the tip jar and shove it towards the girl at the end of the bar. “Good luck, kid.”

Logan releases the man from the before, taking a step towards you. You feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and rush towards the exit of the bar. You need to just get the fuck out of this town as quickly as possible, you’re not safe here anymore. 

Logan seems to agree with you. He gets into the truck and doesn’t turn back to the motel. Instead, he turns onto the highway while you keep your eyes peeled on the trees outside your window. There’s someone out there, still following you. 

“Something’s wrong with the suspension,” you glance up from where you’d been working on breaking open the cashbox and frown. Logan’s glaring down at the steering wheel, it seems like he’s struggling to get it to turn properly. 

“What?”

He scoffs and glares at you, “How should I know?” He pulls over to the side of the road, opens his door, and lets in a rush of cool air and snow. You toss the cashbox to the back of the trailer and follow after him. 

He goes to where he’s pulling his motorcycle and you feel like you notice an extra bump under the tarp. “What’s that?” You take a step towards it just as Logan pulls it back. You have to bite back a laugh when you see the girl from last night curled up next to his motorcycle. 

She gives you both guilty looks and slowly sits up. “I’m sorry,” Logan offers her a hand and she gets out of the trailer. He grabs her bag and drops it at her feet. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go.”

“Find a different ride,” he growls, already heading back to the truck. You open your mouth, prepared to argue, but you can’t force her on him. As much as you might want to help her. She’s better off away from the two of you.

“You’re just gonna leave me here?” She snaps at him, a little attitude finally showing through. 

“Yep!” He gets in the truck and you know he wants to drive off immediately but he has to wait for you. You shoot her an apologetic look as you follow after him, slipping into the seat beside him. He starts the engine, driving off slowly, eyes drifting towards the rearview mirror. 

You bite your tongue, trying not to point out how cruel he is leaving her on a snowy highway in the middle of nowhere. He glances over at you, “What?” He snaps. 

You shake your head and shrug. “Nothing.” You’ve barely finished speaking before he’s slamming on his brakes. 

“God dammit,” he mutters, running a hand over the stubble on his jaw. You can’t help the grin on your face, reaching over to open your door. It doesn’t take long for the girl to catch on, scooping up her bag and chasing after you. 

“You’re such a softie,” you tease him. 

“Shut the hell up.”

Rogue is nice, if not a little odd. She claims to be a mutant too but doesn’t want to give specifics on her abilities. You don’t want to push her but you are curious about the gloves she wears. “What kind of name is Wolverine?” She asks, spotting Logan’s tags. 

He glances over at her and smiles slightly, “What kind of a name is Rogue?”

She goes to say something but you throw your arm out, holding her back as you shout, “Logan, watch out!” He tries to hit his brakes in time but the tree’s already coming down. The truck slams into it and it’s like time slows down, only for a moment. 

You can feel the impact of your body against the windshield, the glass dragging along your scalp and skin. It’s like a million razors each slicing into you. And then, you’re flying through the air, head snapping so hard against the ground you can’t see anything. 

You hear something happening around you, a roar that doesn’t sound human echoing through the air. There’s the sound of metal crunching and someone is screaming in the distance but you can’t see. It’s not like a total void of darkness, there’s just nothing. 

You feel the blood slowly leaking down the back of your skull and something lands harshly against your head. You don’t think much time has passed. When your eyes finally open, however, you’re not lying on the pavement. 

The world around you is foreign. It smells like a hospital but it’s not like any you’ve ever seen. X-rays are hanging on the wall and paperwork is scattered on a desk near the bed you’re lying on. 

Your mind is blank for a moment. Slowly turning back on while you process the sudden change of scenery. You don’t even remember closing your eyes, you don’t know when your vision came back to you or how long you’ve been here. 

The terror sets in quickly. You throw the blankets off your legs, staring down at the pajamas you wear in disgust. Someone had changed you. They’d run tests and done X-rays on you and you don’t remember a second of it. 

You rip the needle out of your arm, tossing it to the floor and running towards the door. Your feet slip on the metal floors as you run but you’re afraid to stop. Everything around you looks more and more like a lab. 

Did someone from the bar call some government agency? You’ve heard horror stories from your father about the tests the military has run on mutants. You’re starting to worry that’s what's happening to you. 

But you doubt the military would make it so easy for you to escape. This has to be something else. You’d heard other voices when you’d been lying on the ground. People who had been trying to help. Could that be who took you?

“You caught on quicker than your friend.” You nearly fall flat on your face, flipping around to see who spoke. But no one’s there. You’re completely alone. “I’m just grateful you didn’t choke out one of my associates.” it’s coming from beside you now. 

It’s all around you, the voice floating through the walls until you think he might be in your mind. “Much faster than your friend,” he sounds gleeful and it makes you even more anxious. “I’m a telepath, darling, nothing to fear. If you’d just take that elevator and come up to meet me.”

You’d have to be an idiot to actually listen to the voices in your head. But you don’t see another way out of here. So, reluctantly, you follow the floating voice’s instructions and slip inside the elevator. 

When the door opens up again you don’t have a chance to step inside before someone’s pushing you back. Logan stands in front of you, hands clamped tightly around your shoulders while he looks you over. 

You sink into his arms, hugging him tightly to you. You’d been terrified you were all alone here. It’s more than a relief to see him again. “You’re okay?” He asks, pulling back to look at you one last time. 

You nod, throat too dry to try and form a coherent sentence. You glance over his shoulders brows furrowed at the people awkwardly watching you reunite. There’s a man in a wheelchair smiling at you, “Ah, glad you could make it.” The floating voice, of course. “Logan here was quite worried about you.”

Logan turns to glare at the man and you offer a slight smile. There is something comforting about him. You’re not exactly threatened by an old guy in a wheelchair. The redhead behind him, however, is bugging you. Something about the way she’s looking at Logan doesn’t sit right with you. 

“Welcome to my school for the exceptionally gifted,” something about the way he says that makes you tilt your head in confusion. You don’t know what he means until there’s a puff of smoke behind him and some kid is walking by with their hair on fire like it’s nothing. 

Mutants. It’s an entire school for mutants. You think you could pass out again. 

“It’s the best place we could have ended up, Logan. This is amazing.” You’ve been going back and forth for an hour. He won’t see reason. He keeps saying you need to leave. That you don’t know these people and it could all be one big trap. 

You don’t understand him, why he’s so desperate to get away from people like the both of you.  You’re rejected in every other corner of society. You could have something real here. 

It hits you at once. That’s the problem. He’s not ready for something real. He’s not used to it because he’s never had it before. At least you could pretend at a sense of normalcy living at home. It’s an entirely new concept to him, sticking to one place for so long. 

“We don’t know these people,” he hisses, leaning over the bed to argue with you. You narrow your eyes but your conversation is cut off by a knock on the door. You sigh, walking away from him and swinging the door open. 

Jean is on the other side, a surprised look on her face when she sees you. “Oh, I’m sorry. I was trying to drop these off to Logan.” You glance down at the towels in your hand and give her a strained smile. That’s a flimsy excuse if you’ve ever seen one. “I must have the wrong room.”

You step to the side, opening the door wider so she can see him. He doesn’t even look at her, too busy angrily unmaking the bed. “No, you have the right one.” You hold your hands out expectantly, “I can just take those for you.”

The look on her face is priceless and finally causes a real smile to grow on your lips. She wordlessly hands you the towels, looking disappointed. You don’t know if it's because of what she was trying to do, or because she couldn’t do it. 

Before she leaves you call out a quick, “Tell Scott I said thank you again. Wouldn’t be here without him, after all.” Her shoulders tense and she rushes back down the hall. Whatever little crush or interest she has with Logan is going to need to be dealt with on her own. 

You’ve got enough shit going on without having to worry about her too. You shake your head and slam the door shut, tossing the towels on the desk. Logan sits on the bed, watching you with an odd look. 

“What was that about?”

“She’s into you,” you tell him bluntly, waiting for his reaction. He doesn’t even blink, just glances between the towels and you before shrugging. 

“Not interested.” You don’t want to admit that you feel any relief. There was never any real doubt. But it’s still nice to be reassured. 

You slip into bed beside him, taking his hand and forcing him to meet your gaze. “I know that this isn’t what either of us was expecting, but this is good, Logan. We don’t have to worry about pretending we’re something we’re not. We don’t have to worry about my dad or anyone finding us.”

He doesn’t look entirely convinced. But he lets out a heavy sigh and drags you closer to him. He tucks your head under his chin, placing a brief kiss against your forehead. “If you want to stay, we’ll stay. But I’m not putting on that fucking costume.”

You laugh a little, peering up at him with a grin, “Deal.” 

There’s a place for you here, even if there isn’t in the rest of the world. You can be safe here, you don’t have to worry anymore. You don’t have to fear the eyes on the back of your head because they can’t get you here. 

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 @corvusmorte  

@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allilium @insomniachox  ♡ 

Asked for part two: @enchantedbutterflies @strawberrylore @ittoscumdump @enananawoah @wotcherboo

@cali0101 @fluffy-b33z @pcrushinnerd @izbelross @saltwaterburns

@likeficsinthewnd ♡ 

[starlightervarda]

I can't sleep so Star Trek TOS/SNW dashboard simulator

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

to this day I can't understand why they're called the Three Musketeers if there's FOUR of them? Did Dumas just forget his own main character???

🪴 plantdad Follow

You've got to be kidding me

🪆 chekovsgunman Follow

I know right? A mistake like this would never happen in Russian literature!

5,324 notes

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

After months of taking care of everyone else on this giant tin can I really earned this shore leave. Now I get to drink, relax, flirt with some lovely ladies and sleep until noon 😎 Just what the the doctor ordered!

🩺 therealmccoy Follow

Update: A fucking purple tree ate five crewmen. Again.

955 notes

🖖 iamspock Follow

Despite being among humans for close to a decade, I still find their tendency to overcomplicate and avoid aspects of social situations to be confusing at best and infuriating at worst. So much time is wasted on tedious matters such as who gets to 'make the first move' or 'not come off too strong'.

For example, everyone aboard my vessel is keenly aware of Lt. Uhura and Engineer Scott's 'budding romance'. But their need to extend their oddly avoidant courtship ritual, rather than outright state their interest in one another, is pointless, as well as frustrating to witness.

Why do they do this? Why not 'get it over with', as they say?

I encourage answers from all cultures, human or otherwise.

💅 janicethemenace Follow

I'm sorry Scotty and Nyota are WHAT

💉 xtinechapel Follow

DELETE THIS

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

SPOCK NOOO HE DOESN'T THINK OF ME LIKE THAT 😭

🔧 scott-free Follow

But I do! I thought you knew and were just being nice about it!

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

DMing you rn 😳

🖖 iamspock Follow

You're welcome.

24,103 notes

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

PSA: If you visit Antares VII, stay clear of any yellow plants, their pollen can have some...inconvenient effects on the biology of humanoid peoples.

My XO and I suffered through troubling symptoms until it was almost too late. Thankfully, we figured out a cure in time.

🪴 plantdad Follow

I can only find info on the symptoms. What was the cure? 👀

🌟 j_tiberius_k Follow

Do I really have to say it?

6,322 notes

💊 mmmbenga Follow

The galaxy if Klingons didn't exist

⚔️ glorytotheempire Follow

Wow. Humans are openly advocating for our disappearance yet Klingons are the bad guys? I thought your federation stood for peace.

💊 mmmbenga Follow

Cry harder you genocidal wrinkly-faced bitch I hope your planet gets sucked into a black hole

#If you think a joke is on par with what they do then book an MRI because you might have brain damage #fuck Klingons and anyone that sympathizes with them

35,007 notes

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

So I can either skim through this asteroid belt on Warp 2 for 3 hrs or on Warp 5 for 15 mins

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

Erica no! That's not how navigation works!

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

FLOOR IT???

🚀 mitchiemitch Follow

ERICA NO

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

HOW ABOUT WARP 7 FOR 15 SECONDS?

💖 ofmanytongues Follow

ERICA YOU'RE GOING TO CRASH THE SHIP

😎 ortegaaaas Follow

I AM GOING TO HARNESS LIGHT-SPEED TO ZIGZAG THROUGH THE VOID

🚀 mitchiemitch

ERICA P L E A S E

112,517 notes

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

I know some species are very private, but you'd think they'd share the important stuff, esp when we should trust each other by now.

How are we supposed to enjoy my weekly dinners if you all don't tell me what to watch out for :/ This is the third time this happens to the same person and I had to get the answer why from our CMO

💫 numerouna Follow

Wait what did I miss while I was gone

🐴 sirsilverfox Follow

Spock got wasted on my chocolate fudge cake and hit his head on the counter ://///

2,904 notes

[chdarling]

hey so um I have a question for y'all 👉🏼👈🏼

Sharing TLE has genuinely been a transformative experience for me, and I can't even express how much this community has meant to me over the past few years. Apart from the fact that I wouldn't have survived the pandemic without it, I have also discovered something kinda world changing: Not only am I capable of overcoming my fear of sharing my writing with people, I actually really, really love doing it.

While I'm preparing to take a bit of a break from fandom stuff for the time being (not abandoning! just a break!), I certainly don’t plan to stop writing — in fact, I’m hoping to write even more — and I've been toying with the question of how to continue sharing my words. I've decided I'd like to keep my non-fandom stuff off tumblr and separate from TLE (for many reasons), and one method that has been suggested to me by several people is Substack.

I don’t really know what this would look like yet — likely at first it would just be me telling stories and talking about books and writing and word-hoarding and also probably sharing an extravagant amount of photos of my kittens, let’s be real — but I love this community, so I just wanted to dip my toes in and gauge interest. Thus I’m doing as the good lord intended, and creating a tumblr poll. 😎

To be clear, this would be completely unrelated to TLE or anything fandom-related. All TLE-related content will ALWAYS be on this tumblr and nowhere else (except ao3 obviously).

[lostgirlmuseum]

The Swan and the Soldier

^made w/ pinterest

Pairing: tfatws!Bucky x f!dancer!reader

Summary: Bucky is signed up to act in the Nutcracker against his will. But it isn’t all bad. At least not after he meets the cute costume designer. 

Words: 5.6k (oops)

Warnings: Mention of an injury + brief description of pain, poor writing at times, lemme know if I missed anything

A/N: I really hope this isn't complete dog shit

(Dividers by me😎)

“You want me to what?”

Bucky dropped his sandwich back onto his plate.

“I was gonna do it but I’m too busy to make every rehearsal.”

Bucky had been staying in Louisiana for the past month, finally taking a break from going from fight to fight. Sam encouraged him to stay with him at Sarah’s place, which Bucky did for a while, but after a couple of weeks, he decided to rent his own place. He was still near to Sam, and was at his house nearly every day, seeing as he was only a fifteen-minute drive away. Bucky just felt like less of a burden this way. 

“And I’m not busy?” Bucky countered, staring at Sam from across the kitchen table, where they were taking a quick lunch break before getting back to the boat.

“Well—” 

“Shut up.”

“It would mean so much to AJ. It’s his first dance recital and I think he would be a lot less nervous if someone he knew was on stage with him.”

“I’m not a ballerina, Sam.”

“You don’t have to be!” He quickly uttered, putting down his own sandwich. “They just need a couple of parent volunteers to step in and play the adults at the beginning of the show.”

“I haven’t liked dancing since the 40’s. And I don’t know how I feel about being on stage. Would I have to wear a costume?”

“It’s the Nutcracker.” Sam raised an eyebrow and gave Bucky a judgmental once over. “I don’t think it fits the show to have you dressed like an angsty motorcyclist.”

“Sam, I don’t think I can—”

“Uncle Bucky!” A cheerful voice entered the room as AJ came bounding up to the table.

“Hey, kid,” Bucky smiled, giving the boy a quick fist bump. 

“Uncle Sam told me you would be a part of my recital!”

“He said what now?”

“What?” AJ asked, oblivious.

“Nothing, I—AJ, could you give Uncle Sam and me a second?”

AJ nodded and skipped back outside into the sun. Bucky glared over at Sam.

“So maybe I jumped the gun a bit…”

“Samuel.”

“You can say no,”

“You know I can’t say no now!” Bucky flung his hands out, exasperated. 

“You can! You’ll just disappoint him. But if that’s what you want to do—” Sam trailed off, taking a bite out of his turkey and provolone. 

“This is manipulation.”

“Is it working?” Sam mumbled and swallowed.

Bucky shook his head and stared at his plate. “You owe me.”

“Big time! Promise.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” Bucky mumbled, planting his face in his palms.

“Rehearsals are Tuesdays and Thursdays,” Sam got up from the table and grabbed his now empty plate, “you’re making the kid really happy.”

“Yeah, yeah. To be clear, I am doing this for him. Not you. I don’t give a shit about you.” He pointed.

“Love you too, Buddy.” 

Bucky found himself that very Thursday at the ballet studio, in a small group of parents, as a petite young woman—well, she looked about 60, but compared to Bucky, she was young—introduced herself, a southern accent clear in her cheery tone.

“Welcome parents and volunteers! Most of you already know me, but I’m Ms. Cindy, the head of this program and this year’s Nutcracker! I’d like to start by thanking all of you for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here and support us and your children. It’s you who keep this dance studio up and running, and I’m so grateful for that. Throughout today, you’ll each get called to get your measurements taken so we can be sure that the costumes are ready before the performance. And as for roles, we’ll figure that out at the end of class. I have to go teach the little ones, but feel free to take a seat and watch the choreography your students have been learning all season!”

Bucky followed the others, who seemed to already be acquainted with each other, into a small observing room attached to the studio where AJ was practicing. Bucky stuck himself in the back corner and watched AJ through the one-sided mirror for only a couple of minutes when his name was suddenly called.

“James Barnes?” 

Bucky looked up to see a woman standing in the doorway. He ignored the glances that turned his way as he followed the woman out the door.

Did they know who he was? Did they know what he had done? Or maybe they had no idea. Maybe they were judging him for not engaging with them in polite conversation, maybe they thought he was weird for hiding silently in the corner. 

Bucky pushed the thoughts out of his head as the (attractive, he might add,) woman opened the door for him into a new room. It wasn’t huge, but it wasn’t a closet either, and Bucky immediately noted the lines of clothing racks stuffed with colorful dresses that lined the walls.

“I just need to get your measurements quickly for your costume. I can take them now, or if you’re more comfortable, I can send you a list of measurements I need and you can get those numbers to me on Thursday if you’d prefer.” 

Bucky thought for a moment. He wasn’t entirely sure how to take his own measurements, and he sure as hell did not want Sam of all people helping him. On the other hand, having a stranger so close to him sounds embarrassing and stressful. But he saw the kindness in her eyes, and oddly enough, he felt he could trust her.

“Now is fine."

“Sounds good.” She gave the sweetest smile he had ever seen and told him where to stand. He took off his jacket with ease, feeling somewhat comfortable knowing he had a long-sleeved shirt under to hide his metal arm. He kept his leather gloves on, and she said nothing.

She demonstrated to him how to hold his arm, and he obeyed, holding his right arm out and bent at the elbow. She chatted as she brought the tape measure along his arm. “Which kid is yours?”

“Oh, none of them.” 

He noticed the subtle tilt of her head.

“I mean, I’m not a dad, but I’m AJ’s uncle. Well, a friend of his uncle but,”

Luckily, she stopped his ramble before he could truly embarrass himself.

“Oh, you’re Bucky?” She dropped the tape to her side and smiled. “I’ve met Sam a couple times, but I’ve heard all about you and him from Sarah.”

“Oh? All good things I hope?” 

He asked in a lighthearted tone, but in reality, he was terrified of the things she’d heard about him.

“Only good things.” She grinned and grabbed the pencil behind her ear to scribble a number on a chart.

“That’s a relief.” His eyes scanned the room, trying to think up conversation to fill the silence. “So are you a parent volunteer?”

“Not a parent, no. I used to be a part of this program growing up. It’s done so much for me, and I wanted to stay connected, so I help out here and there when I can. I mostly fit the costumes.”

“That’s cool.” 

Cool. Cool. Cool response Bucky. Ask her a question, dammit.

“Do you still dance?”

“Not anymore. Can you put both arms out to the side please?” She asked, and Bucky lifted his arms so she could measure his chest. She continued to make conversation as she wrapped the tape around him. “AJ is a great student. He has a lot of potential, he just needs to find his confidence. And he’s a great kid. You’re a lucky uncle.”

“I am,” Bucky responded, trying desperately to not freak out at how close she was to him, and how she was only going lower, as she moved to his waist.

She took a break to write down a couple more numbers and returned to him.

“Now I need a hip measurement, so I have to measure around your butt. Is that okay?”

Bucky gave a convincing nod. “Do what you gotta do.”

‘Do what you gotta do’? What the hell am I saying?

He avoided looking at her and held his breath as she brought the tape around his hips.

“Just a couple more measurements and you’ll be out of here,” she assured, dropping the tape from his hips. “You can put your arms down now.”

Bucky let his arms rest at his sides.

She quickly went about measuring his legs and finished a couple of minutes later.

“You’re all good to go, Mr. Barnes, thank you!” 

“You can call me Bucky,” he tried to hide his bashful smile and started to exit out the door, but stopped and turned at the last moment. “What was your name again?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N.” 

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N.” 

He liked the way it felt on his tongue. With that, he said goodbye and returned to the observing room.

Thirty minutes later class was nearly over. All that was left on the agenda for the day was to form the groups.

“So it seems we have an odd number…Lois, is this everyone?” Ms. Cindy asked, looking over to her assistant.

“Everyone that signed up, yes.” Lois, a shorter girl with an auburn bob, tapped on a clipboard.

“Let’s just see how this goes. Mr. and Mrs. Tudor will be group one, Mr. and Mrs. Malone will be group two, Mrs. and Mrs. Cardoza will be group three, and that leaves Mr. Barnes…”

“We could have him be a single parent to his group?” Lois offered, looking up from her list.

“We could, but then who would he dance with at the party scene?”

Bucky swore he saw a literal lightbulb light up above Ms. Cindy’s head as her gaze fixated somewhere in the back of the room where you were simply passing by.

“Oh, Y/N? Dear?” She called in a uniquely falsetto voice.

“Yes, Ms. Cindy?” Y/N answered, pausing.

“I realize you’re already doing our costumes, but would you be interested in volunteering as one of the parents? We are short a person.”

“Oh, um…”

“You can think about it Dear. It’s no trouble if you feel that it’ll take up too much time, we appreciate you for your dedication to the costumes.” Ms. Cindy was careful to add.

Despite her initial hesitance, Y/N spoke up.

“I can do it.”

“Are you sure?” Ms. Cindy blinked, surprised by the answer.

“Yeah,” she breathed, “yes. I’ve already got measurements, all I need to do is submit an order. And I can’t tailor anything anyways until the shipment comes in.”

“A round of applause for our beautiful and dedicated Y/N, everyone!” Ms. Cindy cheered and began clapping her hands in a circle. The parents all joined in, and Bucky gave a quiet few claps. “That means Mr. Barnes and Y/N will play the fourth couple. Splendid!”

Lois tapped Ms. Cindy on the shoulder and pointed to her watch. Time was almost up. Ms. Cindy was fast to get back to business.

“Now let’s quickly assign each group their children, and then we can end rehearsal.”

“Buck, I’ve got some good news.” Sam’s voice flowed through Bucky’s phone.

It was Tuesday morning, and Bucky had been up and dressed since seven in the morning, eager to pick AJ up, even though class wasn’t until 5 p.m. He was currently lying on the couch, watching the clock tick by.

“What, you finally learned to use the potty like a big boy?” Bucky mocked.

“It was one time. ONE. TIME. You know I don’t fuck with clowns!”

“I don’t like clowns either, but you don’t see me shitting myself at the Halloween Festival.” Bucky quietly chuckled.

“First of all, I didn’t ‘shit’ myself. I peed. A little. And second of all, I had a lot of hot chocolate beforehand, and my bladder was at max capacity, and—why the hell am I explaining this to you?”

“Because you know I’m never going to let you live it down.”

“Moving on,” Sam sighed, “I was calling to tell you that you don’t need to be in the performance with AJ anymore.”

Bucky shot up from his lying position. “What do you mean?”

“My schedule freed up a bunch so I can take AJ and be in the show now.”

“Oh.”

Bucky slumped back onto the cushions, dejection dripping from his voice. Sam clearly picked up on it.

“What do you mean, ‘Oh’? I thought this was good news for you. I know I forced it onto you and all, and your thing isn’t really being on stage in front of a bunch of people.”

Bucky picked at the edges of his fingers, carefully considering his next words.

“I mean it’s not my thing, but—I don’t know, I feel like I’ve committed. And I get to spend some time with AJ, y’know? And, truth be told, it’s not all bad.”

There was a pause on the line before Sam’s voice rang through.

“That’s awfully sweet Buck. And very out of character for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, I can be nice.”

“Yes, of course. Bucky Barnes, the world’s famous sweetheart, how could I forget?”

“I’m hanging up now,” Bucky warned.

“Bye, metal man.”

“Fuck off bird brain.” Bucky was about to hang up, but quickly added in a serious tone, “I’ll be there this afternoon to pick AJ up.”

“You’re a good man.”

“Whatever.”

“Welcome back everybody!” Ms. Cindy’s high voice rang. “We are going to practice the beginning of the show where the families enter the party. We’ll take it group by group, so let’s start with group one, the Tudors. Your family is super excited for this party, so we’ll have you enter stage right and I need the children to be skipping and bubbly.”

Ms. Cindy instructed the groups one by one. Eventually, she got to Bucky’s group, which he shared with you and four kids, including AJ.

“And our final group, group four, is the family that does not want to attend. The parents should be trying to get the kids to smile, and at least act like they are happy to be there.”

Bucky let you take the lead and simply followed what you did. He walked beside you, stopped when you stopped, turned when you turned.

“Good, now make it look like you are trying to get the kids to smile.”

Bucky copied the way you pointed to your cheery smile and did his best to ignore the embarrassment bubbling in his chest. 

The comically grumpy—and much better actors than him—kids sighed and plastered on cheery expressions. 

“Good, and you can continue walking.” Ms. Cindy ordered.

Group four finished the short trek across the stage successfully. For such a simple task, Bucky had felt surprisingly nervous. 

Ms. Cindy quickly gave her praise and ordered everyone to start over. As Bucky and his group were going back to the line, she offered some advice.

“Y/N and Mr. Barnes, could you try holding hands? You don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else.”

Bucky gulped. Of course you don’t look as ‘coupley’ as everyone else, all the other couples are actually couples, and married for God’s sake!

You, on the other hand, simply said “Okay.”

“Group one, go,” Ms. Cindy called, and the Tudors began to cross the makeshift stage.

The line moved forward, and Bucky with it. He began to sweat a little. 

Hold your hand? With my left hand? My metal hand?

She simply glanced at him and gave him a small smile.

“And group two,” Ms. Cindy called.

Everyone stepped forward.

The good news is that Bucky was wearing his gloves, but surely she’d notice his hand felt different and think he was weird. Although, did she already know about his arm situation? She did mention that she’d heard about him and Sam from Sarah. Maybe she already knew, and wouldn’t care?

“Group three!”

Bucky looked back at the kids trailing behind him and spotted AJ beaming right back at him. Suddenly, Bucky felt ridiculous. 

Bucky, you’re being an idiot. Be a man and hold her hand. It’s not that deep. You’re doing this for AJ.

“And four,”

He grabbed her hand and started to walk with her. The first thing he noticed was how small her hand felt in his. It gave him an unfamiliar tingly feeling in his chest. He wasn’t sure he liked it, but it was better than anxiety.

He tried his best to puff out his chest and mimic her confidence as they walked. Bucky stopped halfway through, like they were supposed to, and turned to face the kids like last time. He pretended to point to his smile and finished the walk across the stage.

“Excellent! Let’s move on.”

Bucky managed to make it through the entire class without sweating his clothes off from nerves. 

“You ready to go, AJ?” 

AJ yelped, “Wait! I want you to meet one of my friends!” He dramatically waved over to a little girl with a sunflower barrette in her hair who came skipping over. “This is Ava.”

“Hi, Ava.” Bucky gave an awkward smile.

The little girl looked up at him unphased. 

“Hi, Mr. Bucky. So are you really a superhero?”

Straight to the point, huh? “Oh—um,”

“He is!” AJ butted in, “He’s friends with my Uncle Sam, they save the world all the time!”

Ava crossed her arms across her chest and jutted a leg out.

“So can you fly?” She squinted.

“Nope, I can’t fly.” Bucky began to rub the back of his neck.

“Can’t your Uncle Sam fly?” She asked, looking at AJ with skepticism.

“Yep!”

“So if you can’t fly, what can you do?”

Before Bucky could even begin to stutter, Y/N appeared.

“Hey, Ava! I think your mom is looking for you.” She said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

“Okay, I gotta go. Bye AJ,” Ava quickly spouted and ran off towards the doors.

“Bye!” AJ shouted.

Bucky noticed Y/N holding his blue cap out to him.

“I think you forgot your hat.” She spoke softly. 

“Didn’t even realize, thanks.”

“It’s no problem, Bucky.”

Bucky was about to give a lopsided grin when AJ interjected,

“Only friends and family call him that.”

“Oh, I’m sorry! James, then.” She brought her hand to her cheek.

“No, no, Bucky is fine,” Bucky quickly corrected, “you can call me Bucky.”

“You’re sure? I don’t mean to overstep,”

“You aren’t, I like it when you call me Bucky.” 

He instantly felt his cheeks get warm at his confession. Before she could respond, he quickly changed the subject.

“Oh, by the way, I wanted to let you know that I can’t be here at the next rehearsal. AJ will be here, but I completely forgot that I’ve got an appointment that day.” A monthly check-in with Dr. Raynor that he forgot to move. “I don’t know if you want me to meet somewhere instead, or I can just come early on Tuesday and you can catch me up to speed or…I mean whatever you think is best.”

“If you want, we can meet on Friday at my place. I can send you the address if you’d like?”

“Yeah, yes, sure, let me get my phone—” he fumbled while grabbing it out of his pocket, “what’s your number?”

“Hey, come on in!” Y/N appeared behind the crisp white door of a cute house, not unlike the Wilson’s, and gestured inside before grimacing. “Sorry, I should’ve asked before, are you cool with dogs?”

Bucky nodded.

She gave a sigh of relief and fully opened the door. Bucky couldn’t help but smile at the graying corgi staring back at him.

“This is Frank,” Y/N said, bending down to bring the panting dog into her arms.

“Hi, Frank.” Bucky greeted, giving the dog gentle pets with his right hand. “Your house is lovely,” he added after catching a glance around.

“Oh, thanks!” She smiled, walking into the living room area to set the dog down on the couch. “This is actually my parent’s house, I’m just house and dog sitting for the week while they’re out of town. Usually, I live in my apartment.”

“Is this where you grew up?” Bucky asked, eyes searching the place. He noted the multitude of picture frames lining the wall and the slightly worn couch.

“The first eighteen years of my life. I told myself I’d be out of Louisiana by the time I went to college, but clearly that didn’t happen.” 

“Where did you want to go?”

“New York, San Francisco, I don’t know, maybe even Australia or France.” she laughed at the absurdity and sighed. “C’est la vie,” 

Bucky stuck his thumbs in his pockets and stared down at his feet, unsure of what to do next.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Iced Tea? I can make some coffee. Are you hungry?”

“Just water is fine,”

“Sure, one second.”

Bucky took the opportunity to explore the room. His curiosity was set on the shelf beside the fireplace, and the multitude of shiny awards it adorned. 

Several faux gold figures of ballerinas and a plaque filled the space, as well as what looked to be a photo album. Bucky thought better than to touch it, however, he did notice the significant lack of dust on it compared to the trophies. 

“I see the obnoxious shrine of my dancing days has caught your attention.”

Bucky spun around, cheeks a little pink at the notion of being caught wandering. He was looking for the right thing to say as you took a seat on the couch and placed the water on the coasters.

“Looks like you’re an amazing dancer.” He nodded, hoping that it was the appropriate thing to say.

She ducked her head at the compliment. “I was okay.” She pointed to just beyond his shoulder at the photo album. “You can look at it if you want,” she offered, clearly sensing his curiosity.

Bucky grabbed the binder from its spot on the shelf and took a seat next to her. He slowly opened the book to the first page. 

There you were, 4 years old in a bright pink tutu, beaming at the camera. The page was covered in cute stickers and artistic swirls. 

“My mom has a knack for crafty things,” she said, vaguely gesturing to the book.

Bucky hummed and began to gingerly flip through the pages. It was odd but endearing seeing you change through each photo and page, but one thing that stayed constant was your eyes. In every photo they had the same sparkle, the same light. It looked so right on you, but he didn’t recognize it in you now.

Bucky stopped on the page dedicated to age 17 and marveled at the costume you were wearing. He couldn’t look away from the intricate feathers and sequins.

“That was for our Spring production of Swan Lake.”

Bucky turned to see a subtle smile on her lips. She was looking at the book, but it seemed as if she was seeing right through it.

“You were the swan?”

“Odette, yeah.”

Bucky turned the page once more, except this time there was no photo—just the outline of where one would be on a mostly blank page, minus the glittering bold number “18”.

“Anyway, the choreography,” she quickly chimed, her attitude dramatically changing, “I’ve got the video right here, we can watch it first.”

She snatched the album up and placed it back on the shelf before handing him her phone. Bucky watched the thirty-second clip of two of the volunteers—possibly the Tudors if he remembered correctly—as they danced a shockingly simple routine.

“That’s it?” He cocked an eyebrow. 

“That’s it.” She assured. “Ready to try it?”

“I might be a little rusty, it’s been a while since I’ve danced.”

She turned on the music and started counting under her breath.

They started by facing each other, their right palms in front of them, and placed against each other. They both took a step in, a step out and circled around the other to which they were now in the opposite places. She curtsied, he bowed, and then they repeated the step in, step out, switch. Now they stood next to each other, and she held her arm out over his. They took three steps forward, and the music grew into a faster tempo.

“Easy enough?” Y/N asked, grabbing her phone to stop the music.

It was suspiciously simple, Bucky thought, but then again, the adults were just a small addition to the show. It’s really about the kids.

“We can make this more interesting.” He remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“Let’s try it again.” Bucky gestured to her phone.

She obliged and restarted the music.

They went through the routine again, all the way to the end at which the music began to speed up. As Y/N went to pause the music again, Bucky grabbed her arm and pulled her in. She gave a surprised gasp, but Bucky wasn’t regretful once he saw the smile on her face. He pulled himself back and began to spin her around and basked in her soft laughs. After pulling her back in again, and dancing around each other, he dipped her. She wrapped her right leg around him in response and he hoped she didn’t notice his smirk transform into a blush. 

“Alright Mr. ‘I might be a little rusty’, someone has moves!” 

Bucky helped her up once she removed her leg. 

“I used to be better,” he mumbled.

“None of that,” she softly chided, bringing his chin up, “where did that confidence just go?”

Bucky shook his head. “I’ll keep practicing, then you’ll see,” he simpered.

Time went on and not a day went by that Bucky didn’t think of you. After weeks of practice, it was finally dress rehearsal. Bucky was surprisingly calm even though they were no longer practicing in a studio, but in the local high school’s theater, in full costume. You held his hand through it—literally, for some parts—and Bucky was grateful for it.

It was Friday night, the final rehearsal before the show the next day, and Bucky was just about to drive off when he realized how cold his hand felt against the steering wheel. He cursed himself and ran back inside, luckily finding his leather gloves sitting on a chair in the wings of the stage. Right as he was about to scamper off, he noticed a figure at the very front of center stage. He recognized her immediately, and without a second thought, he approached from the darkness of the sides and into the light of the stage. She had already changed out of her ballgown and was back in black leggings.

“Hey.” He uttered, slowly taking a seat next to her at the end of the stage. He let his legs dangle over the edge.

“Hey,” she gasped, bringing a hand to her heart. “Sorry, I thought everyone had left.”

“I forgot my gloves.” 

“Seems like you have a habit of forgetting things,” she teased.

“Only when it comes to clothing, apparently.”

“Is AJ not waiting for you?”

“No, he left with a friend. He’s got a sleepover with Marshall tonight.”

“Gotcha.”

A thoughtful quiet settled over them, but Bucky couldn’t ignore the somberness in her eyes, gazing over the expanse of empty velvet seats.

“Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you stop dancing?”

She was quiet for a minute. Bucky started to think she wasn’t going to answer, but eventually, she whispered,

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

She began mindlessly rubbing her knee.

“I tore my ACL my senior year. It was our annual production of The Nutcracker and I was cast as the Sugar Plum Fairy. There was a rumor that some influential talent scouts were going to be attending. So when my knee started hurting I ignored it. I didn’t tell anyone. I worked my ass off and pushed myself harder when I really should have been resting, but I was stupid.” She gave Bucky a short glance. “Opening night came, and so did my solo. Everything was going fine until I heard a pop. Next thing I know my leg is on fucking fire and I’m hitting the ground.

“I embarrassed myself and our entire company. My knee took longer to heal than it should have because of more poor choices I made. What should have been nine months of healing turned into years. By the time it was safe enough to start dancing again, it was too late. I was too far behind my peers. Even still I sometimes have issues with it.”

Bucky simply nodded, taking in her words.

“I tell myself I’m over it because it was so long ago. But deep down I know I’m not. I’ve asked my parents to take down all of my stupid awards, at least store them away somewhere, because it’s just some sick reminder of what I lost. Actually, the whole reason I started volunteering in the first place is because my mom told me I should. Said it could be good for me. She never said so, but I really think she was hoping that by being surrounded by ballet again, I would feel motivated to begin training again. But it’s a pipe dream.”

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling.

“All I ever was was a dancer. And a good one. It was the only thing I was good at, besides sewing, but I only learned that after I injured myself. The whole town knew me as the dancer. I guess the problem with having my entire identity wrapped around one thing is that when that thing goes away…well, who are you? Who am I, if not the girl who’s going to be on the stage one day? My entire identity was ripped from me.

“I’ve just been wading through life. Time keeps moving and crashing around me, but I haven’t changed. I still don’t know who I am, besides the girl who could’ve been great. And now I’m just—stuck.”

Her eyes went wide for a second before squeezing them shut as if she had forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“God, I’m so sorry, you didn’t need to know all of that—”

“No, I—” Bucky stopped her and hesitated to rest his hand on hers. “I can empathize. I hate that you had to go through that. That you’re still going through it. I can understand not knowing who you are anymore.

“A long time ago, I used to be someone else. I used to be charming, independent… happy. But after I was drafted my identity was no longer my own. I was a fighter. I belonged to the army. And then I belonged to Hydra. And even after, I belonged to the Avengers, the world, whoever needed me to fight, I was their soldier. But I’m tired.” At those words, Bucky slumped. “I don’t want to fight anymore. But I have no fucking clue who I am if not a soldier. I’ve been trying to figure that out.”

“I can’t tell you who you are,” she whispered after a moment, “but I can tell you that whoever you are, I like you.” 

Bucky blushed.

“I like you too. It’s kind of embarrassing actually,”

“What is?”

“I didn’t really want to volunteer for this. Sam forced me. And while I love being here for AJ, I’d much rather hang out with him outside the theater where I’m not expected to be looked at on stage. But then I met this pretty costume designer…and suddenly it wasn’t so bad.”

“Pretty?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous.” He specified.

“What a coincidence. I also met the most handsome and charming man recently.”

“Charming?”

“He doesn’t realize how charming he is. I guess that’s part of his charm.”

“He sounds great.” He turned to face her more directly. “Just to be clear, you are talking about me, yes?”

“Yes, you oaf.” She laughed.

Bucky pursed his lips.

“Would you be willing to let this oaf take you out on a date sometime?”

“More than willing.”

“That’s a relief,” he sighed, falling back onto the stage. “I figured it was 50/50.”

She gave him a silly grin and shook her head in amusement.

“You underestimate yourself, Bucky Barnes.”

The final performance was perfect. Well, as perfect as it could be with a production of the Nutcracker with dancers ages ranging from 6 to 106. Most importantly, AJ had fun and did a fantastic job. After the show and final bows, Sarah, Sam, and Cass came rushing onto the stage to congratulate AJ (and Bucky of course. Sam made sure to tell him that he was very proud of how brave he was, and Bucky rolled his eyes. He secretly appreciated it, though.) Cass handed one bouquet to his little brother and the other to his uncle, who funny enough lit up in a similar way as his nephew at the gift. But Y/N lit up the most when Sarah handed a third bouquet to her.

“For keeping Bucky in line, and giving a beautiful performance,” Sarah clarified.

“You’re so sweet,” she beamed, pulling Sarah in for a quick hug. “I have the perfect vase for this.”

“Can we go get ice cream now?” AJ jumped. 

“Let’s get you out of your costume first,” Sam said and gave a quick wink to Bucky before herding his sister and Nephews backstage. “We’ll see you by the car Buck.”

Bucky nodded and turned his full attention to Y/N. He felt weirdly high after the performance. “Wanna join us for ice cream?” He asked, placing his hands on her waist.

“Gladly.” She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck.

I like dancing with you.

A/N: If you've made it this far, tysm for reading!!! I really hope this doesn't suck complete ass, idk what happened 😰 Im going to go hide in a hole now and question everything

If you'd like to read more, here's my Masterlist

Happy holidays!

[fairy-writes]

😎 congrats on 900 followers my best friend!! You deserve it!! I shall give the first first request to you, and that is, Sanemi x fem reader!!! With the action prompt 1! I give you free reign but for the love of everything holy, please make it fluffy!!!!!

IT JUST MEANS TIME

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Demon Slayer

Pairing(s): Shinazugawa Sanemi x Female!Reader

Prompt: Falling asleep with their head in the lap of their lover (Action Prompt #1)

Notes: This is technically before the reader and Sanemi gets together, but it’s a fun idea, so we’re going with it, lol.

This is for my 900 followers event! Check my pinned post for more info if you want to join! It’s going on between May 1st and May 15th!

__________________________________________________________________________

There was always something off about you, but Shinazugawa Sanemi could never place what it was. 

You were a fellow Hashira—the Falcon Hashira, if he remembered right. You were from overseas but talented nonetheless. One of the more talented Hashira, if he had to admit anything. With quick but grand divebombing techniques and lethal strikes that imitated a falcon, after which you were named. The two of you sparred often, usually on your estate. You teased him, saying that he probably had a dirty home. 

He never told you it was because he didn’t want you to see the picture of his family. 

He didn’t want your pity most of all. 

Because he had a feeling that your pity would shatter his heart into tiny pieces.

But he wasn’t sure why.

Sanemi wakes up somewhere warm. His body aches as if he was dragged behind a train. His eyelashes flutter open, and he looks up to see your face. Your eyes are closed. Your face turned forward toward the open window, gently swaying from side to side with the breeze as you hummed a tune. It was calming… relaxing… 

It was something he hadn’t felt since before his mother died. 

The moment he realizes his head is in your lap, he bolts upright, startling you into opening your eyes. You glance at him in confusion before your expression warms, a twinkle in your eye and an expression he couldn’t quite place curling your lips.

“Have a nice rest?” You ask kindly. That was the thing about you. You were never unkind to anyone. You dealt with demons swiftly and painlessly, even going as far as to pray for them as they died. You always had that smile on your face, even when people screamed or cursed in your face. 

“Where am I?” He demands, and you shrug,

“Your estate. Shinobu asked if I could keep an eye on you while you healed. Do you remember anything?” You ignore his guarded expression, instead talking to him as if he was your best friend or even a lover. 

Lover… 

For whatever reason, he didn’t hate that idea. But he knew it was never meant to be. While he cared for you deeply (he wasn’t sure when that happened), he knew that you would never look twice at a man like him. Why would you? You were calm, kind, successful, and one of the only Hashira with a still living and loving family. Why you were a demon slayer was a mystery to him. 

“Shinazugawa? Are you alright?” You ask, breaking him from his reverie. You had cocked your head, and concern painted your face like an art piece. With the setting sun bathing your body in golden light, he thought you looked almost like an angel. 

Sanemi nods,

“‘m fine. What happened?” He eventually says, and you frown (he hates it when you frown) but reply regardless. 

“We were sent on a mission, and you were attacked by a demon. You passed out from blood loss soon after we killed the demon. I carried you back here. ” You explain succinctly, and he blinks. He vaguely remembered going on the mission. He remembers a splash of red. He remembers being moved. 

Had that been you? 

He is stuck in his mind and only shakes his head to clear himself of half-formed memories when you come back in with a tray of tea and a roll of bandages. 

“Shinobu asked that I take care of you.” You reiterate and gesture for him to turn around. He does so without a word. There’s no use in arguing, not when he hurts this bad and can spot speckles of stains on his futon where blood had leaked through the wrappings. You work deftly and quietly, only asking if the bandages are too tight, to which he says no. 

Eventually, you speak. 

“Who are those people in the picture?” You ask, and he immediately knows which picture you’re talking about. It’s the one by his futon. It’s the only picture of his entire family. His father’s face had been ripped from the image, and there were a few splatters of red on the paper, but he kept it nonetheless. 

“It doesn’t matter.” He says gruffly and grunts when you tug a bit too tight on the bandage around his middle. You apologize quietly.

“They’re your family, aren’t they? I think that matters a lot.” You say, voice but a whisper in the breeze coming through the window.  Sanemi clenches his fists and grits his teeth. Here it comes. 

The pity. 

The apologies. 

You don’t look at him with those eyes that he despises. Instead, you look at him with compassion, not pity. 

“I think they’d be proud of you, y’know? You’re helping so many people. I think they’d want you to have a happily ever after.” You say, and he remembers seeing you read a book of foreign fairy tales. When he had asked you about it, you had smiled. 

“I just want a happily ever after someday.” You had said. 

“There’s no such thing as “happily ever after.” It’s just a lie that everyone tells themselves because the truth is too hard.” He says bitterly, his heart constricting.

No. 

He didn’t want to say that. 

Not to you. 

He didn’t want you to look sad. 

But you continue to astound him when you speak again. You don’t apologize. You don’t reprimand him. You don’t belittle him. 

“Happily ever after just means time, Sanemi.” You whisper, putting a hand over his. He revels in the feeling of your calloused hand and the way you say his name with a smile. Normally, he’d shout at anyone for calling him that. But you are different. And that was something he liked about you.

So, when you gently tug him down so he lies with his head in your lap, he doesn’t complain. He even closes his eyes as you begin to hum. 

He falls asleep soon after, feeling relaxed and calm, feeling loved. 

Sanemi always prided himself on keeping his walls up. Because with a past like his, he didn’t want pity. He didn’t want people to say how sorry they were for him. Because frivolous words like that did nothing around demons. 

But… strangely enough… he didn’t feel like he needed to keep them up around you. 

[bridgetoesoteria]

🥰Timeless Love Reading 💟💗

Heyy back with anotha one! ➡Poll correlates with the piles⬅

Hope it resonates :)

Collective: For everyone I am getting the message that its time to break out of limiting beliefs. It may be time to face some fears or other things you have been avoiding.

I'm using a deck that I very rarely reach for these days. It was my first deck and I loved it! But it reminds me of someone who ended up really hurting me so I avoid it. But today I felt drawn to it for this reading and realized I didn't want to let them taint my life any longer.

I feel that everyone is being called to do that in someway. Take back your power in love and start controlling the narrative more.

Using Sun and Moon Tarot + The Afro Goddess Clear Vision Duo

Pile 1: Summer

4 Card Spread: The Lovers, 3 of Cups, Queen of Wands, and Princess of Pentacles. Bottom of the deck is Ace of Swords.

I'm getting a pretty bright and cheery energy. So either this is where you are or where you are headed. Yay! Love to see it 🥳 I'm bumping some Amy Winehouse right now. It always makes me feel so sultry. That's kinda the same energy I am getting from your reading.

I think you will be going out and having a great time. You will be re-discovering your sexuality. You will truly be "feeling yourself" (no pun intended!). Some of you could be getting frisky and I see the possibility of children, so take precautions if you are not ready for kids. But for others, if that is what you are hoping for this is a good sign. Some of you may be looking to expand your families.

For others, I think you will have a suitor that comes forward and makes you forget about the past. It looks healthy and honest. (This doesn't mean trust blindly. Always maintain your boundaries and trust your intuition!). Its possible they could make a proposal like asking you on a date, asking to make it official, or something else. Seems like there is romance and mutual love ahead ♥

TL;DR: You will definitely be feeling yourself, if you aren't already. Rightfully, so! What's wrong with confidence. You might be feeling a little hot in the pants *wink wink* so take precautions if you are not looking to get pregnant. You might meet someone that is a good match. Still make sure to trust your intuition and maintain proper boundaries. These are important ingredients for any healthy relationship.

Oracle: Sensei + Passion

Hopefully, you can see the images. Look over the messages and take what resonates with you. You will know its for you by the way it makes you feel.

Yeah... I know what I'm talking about when I said I saw some spicy energy in your reading. Luckies! I am also getting a bit of a marriage vibe.

Pile 2: Autumn/Fall

4 Card Spread: King of Cups, 6 of Wands, Ace of Cups, and 2 of Pentacles. Bottom of the deck is The Emperor.

Jamming to Miss Independent by Kelly Clarkson. Go listen! It may have messages or a vibe you resonate with! Omg and now Brokenhearted by Karmin is playing. I remember when I thought this was Cher Lloyd lol... anywayy..

I am getting such good energy for this pile! I love it. You could be romantics at heart. I am getting a free spirited energy. You don't let heartbreak keep you down and jaded. You always find a way to come back out on top and open your heart again. That is seriously impressive! Its not easy or common to be that resilient! (In case you're wondering, my phone is now playing Drama Queen (That Girl) by Lindsay Lohan). Go you! 😊🙌 If you aren't here right now, this is a sign that you can get there! Manifest it!

I do see someone coming in. They give me kind of goofy energy but well-meaning. They might have more serious intentions than you think or they could have a serious side. I do feel like the ball will be in your court in some way. So just know everything can go the way you want it to. I think this can apply to love overall. You're in a very attractive energy.

If you are going through a heartbreak, you will get over it. I don't mean that in a dismissive way. It just feels like you will start to snap out of it almost. The pain may linger but you will find ways and people to distract yourself.

Some of you are wondering if you should reconcile with a certain person. I see them thinking the same thing. You both feel the same way but probably don't show it. This is probably more of a communication problem and difference in love languages. If you do decide to get back together, try to get to know each other in a more light hearted way. Focus on the moment for now, instead of the bigger picture. Maybe get one of those "couple's questions" type of decks from Amazon.

Some of you may be trying for a baby and I see positive signs here. Make sure to really tune into your empress energy. Know that you have abundance interwoven in your energy and DNA.

TL;DR: Some of you may be experiencing some friction with a partner or may be newly single. You will feel like going out and doing you. I see that you and this other person may struggle with communication and understanding each other. Take some time apart to cool off. Don't make any impulsive decisions you will regret later. If you choose to reconcile, focus on getting know each other for who you truly are. Maybe do this in a light hearted way with some couple's quizzes/games.

Oracle: The One of Wonders + Oil and Water

I'm definitely getting some kind of love-hate vibe. Someone you can't live with but you also can't seem to live without. I knew I was getting an LGBT vibe when I started this reading. I think some of you in this pile could belong to the community. Whether you are single, or going through a break with you partner, I see you dusting off the "freakum" dress and wildin out. Maybe you feel like you deserve this. You've earned the right to have some carefree nights.

Hey, I'm not going to stop you. If you like it, I love it! Go ahead and get it out of your system. Just be safe my dearies. Remember you might end up having a veryy honest discussion with a partner/love interest so don't do anything you might not want to share.

Pile 3: Spring

Off the Bat: Before I even began shuffling I was getting a kind of scorned feeling. Some of you may be thirsty for some kind of revenge. That's kind of funny because I have been wanting to do a "Get Your Lick Back" reading 🤣🤣 But I didn't know if that was too messy for the first week of 2024.

4 Card Spread: Queen of Swords, The Chariot, The Magician, and The Devil. Bottom of the deck is 6 of Cups.

I think you will be taking more charge in your love life. Its like you have a fire under you that's driving this energy. You could be experiencing some kind of heartbreak or toxic cycle.

You will probably be hearing from this person or reaching out to them yourself. It will be up to you what you want to do with this situation. You could take them back and have passion but its likely that you will realize you have outgrown this situation. I think you have learned a lot about this person and you are ready to put up better boundaries.

Some of you could be leaving this person. You may not trust that they are going to maintain whatever change they are showing you. If you do know this person to be toxic and hurtful, you are making the right choice.

Regardless of your specific situation, I do think with the Chariot and Magician in the middle of your reading, you have the power to manifest whatever you need. Harness whatever surge of passion or energy you get and use it to go after what you want. Some of you will manifest communication after a fight or about a fight or betrayal.

For others I see your relationship improving. I think more effort will be put in to try and protect your foundation. It feels a bit scattered for some reason. I think your intentions are in the right place. Perhaps you would benefit from couple's counseling or something similar.

TL;DR: You will have the choice to end a toxic relationship or cycle. Some of you may find that you have outgrown a person or situation. You could manifest communication from someone that reveals some kind of truth. For others, there is a commitment to protecting what you have built with each other. If you fall into that group, consider couple's therapy! Ball is in your court no matter where you fall.

Oracle: Oil and Water + The Librarian

Read over the information for each card. I think the messages meant for you will jump out at you.

Lift Me Up by Rihanna and Demons by Imagine Dragons may have some messages you resonate with. Also check what the year of the dragon may mean for you

Pile 4: Winter

Off the Bat: I am getting a lot of air energy! I also turned off all my music and stopped sipping. Some of you could be moving into a pretty serious energy. You have priorities and don't want to waste energy on nonsense.

4 Card Spread: Page of Swords, King of Swords, 10 of Swords, and King of Wands. Bottom of deck is 10 of Cups.

Some of you could be dealing with a break up. If it hasn't gotten to that point, there may be a lot of cold energy between you and your partner or love interest. Perhaps they want to act single and keep you a secret and you just aren't cool with that? Or perhaps they have a secret of their own. I am picking up on some kind of immature and selfish behavior. I almost want to call it ridiculous. So maybe that is how you feel. Others of them may be burying themselves in work to get over some kind of pain. Whatever the case, you are not feeling emotionally fulfilled.

You feel comfortable putting a pin in things. Even though you may feel quite compatible with this person in a lot of ways, there is something missing. I feel like there may be lack of emotional availability from both sides but it could feel like they don't see you at all.

You may find yourself walking away with a heavy heart. I am seeing you represented by some very powerful cards! The Queen of Wands and High Priestess! This person may not have acknowledged your worth but that does not mean it isn't there. You have a lot of inner strength and power. Your mind and intuition are sharp. If you know you can do better, go out there and manifest it!

TL;DR: You may be kicking an unfulfilling person or situation to the side. If you are not being recognized and cherished by your partner, I think you already feel that it is time to go. You definitely have the energy to attract what you deserve. No more settling. You are walking away to get your mind right.

Oracle: Parted Paths + The Dependent

I hope you can see that. Please take read over the messages from each card and take what resonates.

Thank you everyone for stopping by. I hope it resonates. I've never done pick a card style readings before.

~K

[kratioed]

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐈 & 𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐈 , 𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐋𝐎𝐊𝐈

It’s clear that Hel will one day appear in future releases, as hinted in both GOW(2018) and GOWR, but anyone who is a myth enthusiast knows that Loki had other children besides his monstrous offspring in Norse Mythology because interestingly enough, GOW’s wiki community decided to include "Narfi & Váli" despite no evidence of their existence whatsoever throughout the Norse era.

Of course, it’s also a fandom site; while they can be a reliable source, said sources on their encyclopedia are sometimes inaccurate. Knowing the impossibility of their existence, I also thought about how they can coexist throughout GOW.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟐/𝟏/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: Recently, the GOW's wiki community updated Atreus' "uncertain future" category and the links to Váli's & Narfi's wiki pages no longer existed. Doesn't mean it'll stop me from enjoying my fun. 😎🔥💯

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟕/𝟐𝟐/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: Nevermind, they're mentioned on Angrboða's wiki page for some reason…Váli & Narfi aren't the same as Fenrir & Jörmungandr ☝️🤓 but okay. ☠

And the more I thought about it, the more apparent it became that they’re essential for the franchise…but it’s more like my personal headcanon rather than my “crack” theory so might as well call this an AU for shits and giggles. I thought it would be fun to share my overly long detailed analysis with those who are fixated on Atreus’ other (im)possible children as much as I am because I need this to get it out of my system since they have been living rent-free in my head for almost a year just now. This blog is now officially a Narfi & Váli stan account and Kratos would have LOVED his grandsons if they ever appeared in GOW, but it's very unlikely that would happen. This analyis is going to be a long one so bear with me!

I think it would be poetic for GOW to end off including Narfi & Váli (alongside Atreus) for the final conclusion of the franchise; and yes, Hel would be an adult in this timeskip, contrary to popular belief that they were children in Norse Mythology. Despite their unfortunate demise, their backgrounds are nothing like their half-siblings’ in the Norse Mythos, making them the most ordinary of all Loki’s children. But you know what? The concept of Narfi & Váli being the epitome of normality of all Loki’s offspring gave me an a idea...I’m not sure if anyone has noticed, but Narfi & Váli exhibit some similarities to Kratos & Deimos.

Before the Olympians (Athena & Ares) pursued one of the brothers due to a doomsday prophecy, Kratos & Deimos believed they were mere mortals during childhood as they still fit the epitome of normality as children, similarly to Narfi & Váli. They’re also gods at birth, but the only difference is that Narfi & Váli most likely knew about their divine nature, whereas Kratos (excluding Deimos) only discovered it later in adulthood (a silly parallel, but I still think it counts).

Another example would be in the parallel dynamics of Váli & Kratos, as they both had experiences where they succumbed to their primal instincts in different circumstances; Váli unwillingly turned into a wolf and killed his brother driven by primal instincts under the Æsir’s (or presumably Odin’s) influence, almost similar to how Kratos was deceived and unaware, killed his first wife and daughter fueled by his primal desire for blood under Ares’ influence. While Váli’s fate remains unknown after Loki's Punishment, we can infer that both Váli & Kratos are the only survivors other than their brother.

While the deaths of Narfi & Deimos are an obvious parallel, they're also linked to Bounds and Punishment in distinct ways; like Váli, Narfi was punished with his entrails used as bounds in retribution against his father, as well as due to his relation with Loki while Deimos, on the other hand, was bound and punished due to his existence as the "Marked Warrior" (same thing goes with Kratos since he too was also bound and punished at one point in Ascension).

On top of that, they were also subjected to violence as children inflicted by Gods. Consequently, it ultimately led the downfall of both Æsir & Olympians, as predicted by their prophecy. The prophecy of the "Marked Warrior" bringing destruction upon Olympus began the moment they abducted Deimos. The sufferings of Kratos' family (including Sparta and Pandora) at the hands of Gods contributes the downfall of Olympus. Their tragedies are the major cause of Kratos' justified vengeance to destroy the entire pantheon, ultimately leading the devastation of the Greek world.

In Norse Mythology (with my limited knowledge); the Æsir's (mostly Odin's) retaliation on Loki's monstrous children, particularly Fenrir, due to prophecies contributes their downfall in Ragnarök, especially with their involvement in Loki's Punishment. However, I believe that the suffering of Narfi & Váli at the hands of Æsir Gods is the primary cause for Loki's justified desire for vengeance. The Æsir's use of Narfi's entrails, his own son, as restraints adds insult to injury, intensifying Loki's anger. Obviously, Loki joined forces with those against Æsir Gods with his army of Hel's people while the events of Ragnarök lead the devastation throughout the lands.

But since this is GOW, I found this YouTube comment (which I've kept for quite some time) that perfectly said my thoughts out loud:

With the absence of Loki's Punishment; not only Kratos saved Narfi & Váli from Æsir's (particularly Odin's) wrath, he also prevented a similar tragedy that would inflict upon his grandsons the same way that Gods once inflicted upon him and Deimos as children, in which, fits the overall theme of subverting prophecies in GOWR.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Santa Monica could have easily had Atreus name his sons "Narfi & Váli" as everyone expected from Norse Mythology. But given Santa Monica's innovative approach to myth characters through creative liberties, using "Narfi & Váli" wouldn't work within the narrative structure of GOW's distinct retelling of Greek/Norse Mythology.

From what I've heard, there has been a debate about whether "Váli" is a son of Odin or Loki, or both Valis existed as sperate characters. Additionally, in GOWR, there's already a boss character named Vali (The Oath Guard), which I assumed (correct me if I'm wrong) it's a cultural practice for parents to name their child after a Norse figure in Scandinavian countries, but I find it unlikely for Atreus to name one of his children after an Æsir or any God in general. Similarly, Narfi shares a name with another Giant unrelated to Loki whatsoever...but given the wide variety of Gods and other myth characters we've seen from Greek Mythology depicted in GOW, it wouldn't be surprising if other Narfi, and particularly, Váli Odinson were to mentioned or featured in future releases.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍: If you're not aware or need a reminder, Atreus gets to learn about Deimos during "Animal Instincts" side quest. Whether you choose to bring Atreus or Freya doesn't matter, it doesn't change the fact that Santa Monica had intended for Atreus to know about his uncle, it's still canon either way.

Atreus' identity has roots that go beyond his Norse counterpart (both symbolically and narrative wise along with the origins of his Greek name) and very likely that Santa Monica would take a similar approach with "Hel" in future releases (I've seen people suggest her name could be Faye/Laufey or Calliope, or even Callisto or Angrboða's mother). It's only fair that "Narfi & Váli" should get the same treatment…so imagine how moving it would be if Atreus were to name his sons after Kratos & Deimos.

"Váli" 𝐊𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐒 𝐈𝐈, named after his grandfather, transformed from a monster into a benevolent God due to his ability to change and open his heart, representing the beacon of hope...

And "Narfi" 𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐒 𝐈𝐈, named after his great uncle, whom Atreus had known but never met (but wishes they had), honored his uncle by naming his youngest son after him.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟑/𝟕/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: Just recently discovered in Greek Culture, it's common for children to be named after their grandparents, in which, aligns with my case for "Váli" to be named after his grandfather! While "Narfi" is named after his great-uncle, I believe (correct me if I'm wrong) the naming tradition also involves material/paternal relatives, which is fitting within the context of GOW. ^^

There are hearsay, or statements from Cory Barlog, that Kratos couldn't bring himself to name his son after his brother due to past memories…Atreus, on the other hand, seems open to the idea of naming one of his own children after his uncle he never met.

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐈 & 𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐈/𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

Besides Narfi Lokison and other Narfi, their accounts become somewhat unclear when Narfi's brother is addressed as "Nari." This time, it's Narfi who turns into a wolf and kills Nari. However, some sources later changed Narfi's name to Váli, both in historical texts and modern media...

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟕/𝟐𝟏/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: Initially, I thought this version was made based on the notion that Váli was Odin's son rather than Loki's. But after some further investigation, I'm inclined to believe that Váli is a singular character while Narfi & Nari are Loki's sons. It's also possible that "Narfi/Nari" is referred as the same character, as the belief that Váli is Loki's son is a common mistake in today's media. It would have been so easy to overlook the mistranslation and go along with the usual understanding of "Narfi & Váli"…but thinking about it now, this could actually work within the narrative structure as prophecies are ambiguously depicted in GOWR.

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍: "Váli & Narfi" (or "Narfi & Nari") can shapeshift into wolves. Not only it emphasizes their connection with Atreus/Loki, but as a reflection of Kratos & Deimos through Speki & Svanna.

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟕/𝟐𝟔/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: This might be a overreach...but if Kratos' presumption that Speki & Svanna were boys did reflect something, then it could be described as a projection of his experiences as a military general as well as an extension of subconscious affection. For Kratos' case, people form stronger bonds with animals than with human (and Gods) since often times they can be deceitful/malicious, conceited, narrow-minded, backstabbing, or calculatively manipulative through obligations/false promises while animals (wolves) would instead be much more pragmatic about survival and tender care.

Speki & Svanna (+Fenrir) have been usefully vigilant and reliable wolves that aid him and Atreus, and given the history of humans surviving in collaboration with animals, there is precedence for Kratos subconsciously associating the wolves with memories of Spartan warriors he had by his side almost as though they were his own family, where survival relied on the coordination of his armies and the care given to ensuring that his men were left standing after battle.

This can very easily be associated in the mind as symbolic of a dedicated and responsible soldier as a result from a pivotally formative part of his life revolved around the Sparta's military…and out of remorse (for the casualties of people under his care amidst the war he's wrought) and love (for those who've either perished or lived as well as the people who stood by him), it felt plausible that he could've associated this with Speki & Svanna (shout out to my irl friend for cooking this up!).

Regardless, I can also imagine this as a foreshadow of Kratos' doting relationship with his future grandsons (delulu)!

𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 (𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟕/𝟐𝟏/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒): As much as I adore the relationship between Kratos and his grandsons, I personally think it would be better if they never met in person (rest assured, Hel is fortunate enough to know their grandfather as a child). As I mentioned before, Narfi & Váli should appear by the end of the franchise, and what better way to conclude Kratos' journey than being remembered as the benevolent God even after his death?

Kratos once quoted, "Death can have me, when it earns me" might foreshadow his potential death for the final installment. Given that Kratos had "died" in previous games and even evaded his predicted "death" in GOWR, I think it would be flitting to conclude his journey if the franchise comes to an end (in which, would have opted Atreus to name one of his sons after their grandfather). But it's just a personal theory of mine, so I digress.

Narfi & Váli serves as character foils for Kratos & Deimos, illustrating their childhood origins from Ghost of Sparta to the narrative's conclusion with Narfi & Váli emerging at the end. With wisdom gained from experiences and mistakes, Atreus, aged with greying hair, gazes at his sons and feels as if his father and uncle are reunited once again…relieving their childhood they never had as children.

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: If you made it this far, then congratulations! Here's a quick (and old) sketch of my variant of Váli would look like:

𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓 𝐔𝐏𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝟕/𝟐𝟏/𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒: Tried my best to replicate his facial structure. He's basically Kratos 2.0 with a decent childhood who smiles a lot more than his grandfather ever did in Sparta (he also has his grandfather's eyes and freckles from his father). Narfi, on the other hand, looks a lot more like his father with Deimos' iconic birthmark. They're basically Wolf Children and Brother Bear combined (I never watch either of those movies, but it's the vibes I'm get from them)! ^^

[cecilebutcher]

ღLaufey songs I associate with twst boysღ

I’m back on my musical bullshit😎 just so we’re clear, this has zero thoughts, behind it o7 Enjoy!!

!!Don’t like,it does nothing. Reblog instesd!!

Characters: Every nrc student + some oc’s

Riddle Rosehearts: like the movies

“Maybe I'm just old fashioned. Read too many fairytales. It's no wonder I've had no luck, no one's ever good enough. I want a love like I've seen in the movies.That's why I'll never fall in love”

Trey Clover: I wish you love

“And in July a lemonade. To cool you in some leafy glade. I wish you health. And more than wealth. My breaking heart and I agree. That you and I could never be. So with my best, my very best. I set you free”

Cater Diamond: someone new

“I have to get off Instagram. I keep on going back. Looking at our memories. I know that you will soon delete. We turn to strangers in a day. Now you walk away. Every time I catch your eye. When did you become so shy?”

Ace Trappola: Best friend

“I have never tolerated someone for so long. I've never laughed so much. I haven't written a sad song. There's no one else I'd rather fall asleep with. And dream with. You're my best friend in the world”

Deuce Spade: just like Chet

“Why did you put me through. 11 months of "you're so pretty's, " "I miss you's"? It's absurd what even occurred between autumn and spring. If you never loved me. In a perfect world. I wouldn't have met you that night. Would've stayed with my friends. And just danced 'til the morning light”

Leona Kingscholar: Valentine

“I've rejected affection. For years and years. Now I have it, and damn it. It's kind of weird. He tells me I'm pretty. Don't know how to respond. I tell him that he's pretty too. Can I say that? Don't have a clue”

Ruggie Bucchie: Promise

“It hurts to be something. It's worse to be nothing with you. I've done the math. There's no solution. We'll never last. Why can't I let go of this?”

Jack Howl: lucky for me

“When the sun goes away in the autumn. And the leaves trickle down from the trees. The heat of the summer's forgotten. You'll be here, so lucky for me. You don't tell me to shut up. Even when I talk too much you smile at me. Say, "Don't worry"”

Azul Ashengrotto: From the start

“Oh, the burning pain. Listening to you harp on 'bout some new soulmate. "She's so perfect, " blah, blah, blah. Oh, how I wish you'll wake up one day. Run to me, confess your love, at least just let me say”

Jade Leech: above the Chinese restaurant

“Street sounds blistered with neon lights. Heard the neighbors snoring every other night. Eating dumplings from next door. Finish 'em up they'd give us some more. Didn't realize we had it all. Even when the roof came caving in that fall. Oh, I loved you more than you know. Covered in the flakes of crystal white snow”

Floyd Leech: dancing with you tonight

“Silly boy, don't talk to me. I don't have the energy. Please don't ask to dance with me tonight. I do better on my own (on my own). I don't mean to come off cold (come off cold). But my dear, I'm all danced out tonight. Now the gin is hitting me. And it's almost half-past three. Am I crazy or seeing things? I'm sorry if I can't go for another swing”

Kalim Al-Asim: Magnolia

“A word from her lips, her sirens kiss. Will send you straight into abyss. Magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away. Enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun. To be like her someday. But I cannot compete with her. Perfection is the only word. I think of when I think of Magnolia. She doesn't know that the world is turning just for her”

Jamil Viper: Street by Street

“Step by step, brick by brick. I'm reclaiming what's mine. This city is way too small. To give away to just one guy. Street by street, breath by breath. From the Back Bay to the sky. I'm taking back my city. I'm Taking back my life. The cafe Where you asked me for my name. The bookstore we spent Five hours hiding from the rain”

Vil Shoenheit: beautiful stranger

“What if I would've stayed on the train? Dared to stand up and ask for his name. Maybe we would have exchanged a few words. A fairytale moment could have occurred. But my beautiful stranger will have to remain. A stranger until I see him again. See him again. Hmm, mmh.”

Rook Hunt: fragile

“The soft candle glow. The music so slow. Your skin on my skin. The room is spinning. Nerve in my bone. I'm shaking oh no. I'm talking though I shouldn't be. I've lost all sensibility. I've never been so fragile”

Epel Felmier: falling behind

“'Cause the sun's engaged to the sky. And my best friend's found a new guy. I'm only getting older. I've never had a shoulder to cry on. Someone to call mine. Everybody's falling in love and I'm falling behind”

Idia Shroud:this is how it feels(ft. D4vd)

“This is how it feels. To fall in love with you. To always think of you. To always dream of you. Yes, it hurts so much. To fall in love with you. So if this is how it feels. Tell me if our love is real. There's some type of strange appeal. To the way it was so effortless, uh. I cannot help it”

Malleus Draconia: Bewitched

“You bewitched me. From the first time that you kissed me. Waited all night. Then we ran down the street in the late London light. The world froze around us, you kissed me good night. You bewitch me. Every damn second you're with me. I try to think straight. But I'm falling so badly, I'm coming apart. You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart. And bewitched me. Bewitched”

Lilia Vanrouge: night light

“Cardboard boxes covеring the floor. Guess I won't be living in here anymore. Take down the posters of the pop stars on the wall. Empty room, it looks so small. All of the laughter. All the sleepless nights. Waiting for ever after. Snow falling outside, keeping on the night light”

Silver (Vanrouge): let you break my heart again

“One day, I will stop falling in love with you. Some day, someone will like me like I like you. Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend that we are more than friends. Then of course I'll let you break my heart again. Some day, one day. I will stop falling in love with you. Until I do. I'll be thinking of you. Let you break my heart again”

Sebek Zigvolt: dear soulmate

“Dear soulmate. Do you think of me? 'Cause I do. Do you have green eyes or are they brown like mine? Do you have a sister too? Dear soulmate. One day I'll give this song you. We will drive up to the mountains? Camp in a little tent? When the bears come at night. Will you put up a fight? Or will you hide with me in my flashlight?”

Ibhana “Vesper” Baske: questions for the universe

“Falling in love feels more like crashing. Stars spin around my head. So I'm asking. Will my worries ever melt away? Mm. Run out of sentences to say. Wish that I could put this into better words. Will I ever fall in love or will I always search?”

Tao Yúchi: second best

“I'll never forget how stupid in love I felt. I'll always regret how I couldn't ever tell. That you walked a little faster, left me behind. Kissed me with somebody else in mind. I loved you so much. That I settled for less. Oh, you were my everything. I was your second best.”

Igor Kazentoc: serendipity

“I won't pretend I've been anxious. Just like I've always been. This time it's sticking. And time just stops ticking. When I have my arms around you. Four-leaf clovers and lucky dimes. Coincidences and cosmic signs. Have proved that I am quite naive. I'm falling fast, filling gravity. And all that I see is serendipity”

Junto Shuisha: everything I know about love

“I wouldn't mind (ahh). I heard that falling fast is so divine. Are these songs just telling plain old lies? 'Cause that's everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). Everything I know about love (ooh, ooh). I don't know that much at all. I trip, I fall. Every time I try, it's all too much. That's everything I know about love”

Jasper Spade: slow down

“I wish it would slow down. Even for a second. I'm so old now. Left my adolescence. Going out to parties. And getting way too drunk. Think I found somebody. But don't think that it's love. I wish it would slow down. Slow down. Mhm, mhm. ”

Aikat Spanos: I’ve never been in love before

“I've never been in love before. I thought my heart was safe. I thought I knew the score. But this is why. It's all too strange and strong. I'm full of foolish song, and out my song must pour. So please forgive this helpless haze I'm in. I've really never been in love before”

Phobes Spanos: what love will do to you

“Lately, I've been in a haze. Running late, can't think straight. The world feels smaller, yet the trees look taller. There's enchantment in the air. I know I sound stupid, I do. That's what love will do to you. Read my favorite book. For the hundredth time. At least I know of how it ends. In real life it just all depends”

Yes I know I placed valentine for my baby boy Sebek in the last post, but it fits Leona this time ok?

Anywho hope ya’ll enjoyed this as much as I had fun writing this:D

Finally back to posting shit!! I have had this in my drafts for ages

!!requests are open!!

comments are more than appreciated. but reblogs help the content reach more people so please reblog if you want to like<3 likes do nothing. Seriously, don’t like, reblog.

[marvel-starwarsfangirl]

Ep. 15 "The Cavalry Has Arrived" Review

To say that I am happy is an understatement. I am beyond satisfied with the finale of TBB. For me, it was perfect and I cried several times. This was about a family. Of course, there are small things I would've liked to see more of, but that's more nitpicking. I watched the finale twice today and I am happy. I guess if I had to say anything, it's that I wanted more. I love these characters and I could spend hours with them.

From a more constructive criticism side (just to get it out of the way): I definitely think the writers needed more time overall with this show. There are corners that had to be cut and you can see it. The pacing is rushed at times. While I'm still happy with the final result, you can tell it really needed more time for character moments. I don't necessarily blame the writers; I blame Disney for not giving them more time. Jen and Brad are very capable of both action and character depth, but it's clear they didn't have the time for both.

On another note, the music and animation were phenomenal. The rain animation looked so real to me, especially when dripping off of the characters. Everything was stunning. And the music, like my gosh. The Kiners popped off here. Crosshair's theme and Omega's theme are two absolutely beautiful pieces of music and I really enjoyed hearing them throughout the episode. And my gosh, tension during the final stand against Hemlock was perfect. The music was incredible and I rewatch that sequence because of it (and other things).

Spoiler time; you know the drill 😎 This will be long, fair warning.

Crosshair's conversation with Wrecker and Hunter was truly heartbreaking. You can hear the guilt in his voice, especially when he admits he feels like he deserves to 'Plan 99' himself. To hear Crosshair admit that hurt. His past mistakes weigh heavily on him. However, I loved that Hunter stepped up and told him no. Family sticks together no matter what. It's a far cry from S1, where Hunter and Cross both left each other. But now, nothing will split their little family up. Crosshair's theme playing over that whole sequence had me in shambles.

The whole fight sequences with the operatives was also really well done. I can't imagine what would've happened if Hemlock managed to condition the boys. Omega got Cross out at the right time; if he'd stay'd there a few weeks longer, then Hemlock would've definitely adjusted the conditioning machine in time to fully break him. Luckily, Crosshair avoided that fate. Still, to know that he suffered in that machine for 5 months is heartbreaking. The operatives are true killing machines, devoid of life.

I can't believe I live in a world where Crosshair got Jaime Lannister'd. AND IM A HARDCORE JAIME STAN. This wasn't on my 2024 bingo card! I will say though, I can see why some people personally don't agree with it as a writing decision. Cutting off his had doesn't magically "fix" anything; it honestly will just add to his trauma. But at the same time, I love whump and there is symbolism of Crosshair being truly free. He is now just Crosshair and that's enough.

Omega really learned from the best, didn't she? Seeing her help the other kids and free the Zillo was epic. I got so many Ezra vibes from her as she slipped in and out of the vents of Tantiss. The faith and trust she has in her brothers is truly heartwarming. And it makes the epilogue feel even sweeter. Omega knows they raised her well and she can take care of herself because of that. She's grown so much since that first time seeing her on Kamino. It feels like looking in a mirror sometimes, at least for me. I see a lot of my life reflected in her, just like I do with Crosshair. It hits home.

The final standoff with Hemlock was definitely my favorite part outside the ending. I loved the music, the animation, and seeing Hunter and Crosshair work together. There is such trust between the brothers and Omega. Despite Crosshair's worries, there is no moment that Hunter doubts Crosshair's abilities. Hunter knows Cross will make it. He assures Cross that Omega also trusts her brother's abilities. And the hug after Hemlock died was so beautiful. I love that Omega hugged Crosshair first; he needed that.

Hemlock's demise was perfect. I kept joking that I just wanted him to fall off of Tantiss because it would be so pathetic. And guess what? He did fall off of Tantiss (after getting shot before hand).

Echo of course was awesome! Loved how he commented that he knew Omega was the one to release the Zillo. I also loved how he did get to fulfill his wish of freeing the clones and even lead them into battle against the operatives. The last domino still stands and I couldn't be happier. (Also glad that Emerie lived. She deserved it after realizing how messed up everything was).

Nala Se and Rampart were also handled well. Rampart never changed and I'm glad he didn't. Some people are just not nice, even after getting served humble juice. Meanwhile, I will cut Nala Se some slack. I will never forget Fives. However, she did save Omega so there's that. And she took out Rampart.

Overall, I'm just really glad that everyone made it out in the end. I would've been fine with a sacrifice, but the Batch was constantly being forcibly split apart, I'm glad that they now get a break and can be family. (Tech lives on in all their hearts). They will be ok and they know that. TBB was my comfort show and seeing that final shot of the Batch reminded me that I will be ok. Stuff happens, but somehow, things will work themselves out.

And the epilogue! I wish we got old man Crosshair and Wrecker (maybe one day we will), but it makes sense why it was only Hunter and Omega. He's her primary father figure and their relationship has been one of the driving forces of the show. For so long, Hunter has been very protective Omega, almost going too far at times. However, he learns to let her go and trusts that she will be ok. He is at peace knowing he, Wrecker, and Crosshair (and Tech + Echo) raised her well. It reminded me so much of my own experiences with my parents and I couldn't have asked for a more perfect epilogue. It also hit hard seeing Omega as an adult; she was so tiny in the beginning.

Anyways, that was a long review. I am overall thrilled with the final and I'm glad everything wrapped up neatly. I'm sure we will see Wolffe, Cody, and Rex in another project; their story isn't over. But Clone Force 99's is. They struggled so much and are now finally able to rest. The epilogue confirms that Hunter, Wrecker, and Crosshair got to grow old and watch their kid grow up. For me, there's such a beauty to that. In a galaxy that is riddled by war and darkness, there is hope for a better future. The Bad Batch started as a group of "defective" clones, but in the end, they became something so much more: a family. And in my eyes, that is the perfect ending.

[kylelovskii]

hiii!! lately i've been OBSESSED with mysterion x villain! reader...

could you pls pls pleaaase write smth idk headcanons ANYTHING 😭😭😭 it can be fluff, smut, even a little angst w comfort if you want, whatever comes to your mind !! thank uuu <3

of course!! i’m so so happy you requested! 💗💗

ahh i love mysterion, he’s awesome. 😎😎

i’ll give you a quick oneshot! i don’t know if this is angst or just something random, but i hope you like it! :3

why don’t you show me?

mysterion x villian! reader

he didn’t know how he got there, tied to a chair, on top of one of south park’s many buildings.

once he opened his eyes and his vision became clear, he lifted his head to see you standing in front of him, arms crossed and a shit eating grin on your face.

“hi, mysterion,” you giggled.

“what the hell is this?” he demanded, tugging at the zip ties that kept his wrists together behind him. you only giggled again, swiftly putting your hands behind your back. you sashayed closer to him and leaned down, getting in his face.

“remember our last encounter? remember how i said i’d find out who you were sooner or later?” you quoted. “yeah?” he answered, now feeling just a little nervous. were you really going to go through with that? he thought you said that just to scare him.

you placed a hand on his cheek, “well, time to make my wildest dreams come true, kenny,” and with that, you took said hand and yanked off his mask.

kenny couldn’t say anything, he stared at you, his identity, somehow, revealed to you. how crazy were you? how could you have found out his name? with all these questions bubbling in his head, he heard your signature giggle.

“you’re prettier than i thought you’d be,” you smiled, your gloved hands ran through kenny’s hair. “what-…what’s that supposed to mean?” he stuttered. “exactly what you think it means.”

just because you were a villain didn’t mean you couldn’t have feelings. let alone feelings for a hero. kenny was so…different from everyone. he helped everyone. he wasn’t like cartman, and more importantly, he wasn’t like you. but, while that was nice, and while that’s why you liked him in the first place, that was also the problem. he wasn’t like you. you couldn’t stop being the way you were just for one person

“cmon, kenny. why don’t you join me?” you offered. treating yourself to a seat on his lap, you wrapped your arms around his neck and listed the many reasons he should turn to you. “i know all about you, ken. i know you can’t die, and i know your friends never seem to remember. but that’s the thing..i remember.”

“what the fuck are you talking about? how do you know all this shit?” he urged. “i know you, kenny. i follow you you around, i follow you home. i see you kill yourself, and then i see you in your bed the next morning. and while i watch, i also remember. i am what you’re friends aren’t. i care when your friends don’t. hell, they can’t even remember something so serious. even if it happens right in front of their dumb faces,” you babbled.

that’s when you grabbed his face with both hands, bringing it closer to yours. “i love you, kenny. i know you. i remember you. be with me,” you begged. then kenny realized.

you were being truthful. how could you know all this if you couldn’t remember? there was just no logic in it. you loved him so much, you remembered. thinking about it made him give in.

“fine.”

“oh, kenny. you really aren’t like anyone else,” you sighed, pressing your lips to his. this kiss was like no other to kenny. it felt meaningful. it didn’t feel like some hook up. it felt real.

you pulled away, love stricken. “i’ll untie you,” you whispered, getting up from his lap and going to crouch down behind him. you took out a small pocket knife and cut the plastic, freeing his hands.

kenny got up from the highly uncomfortable chair and looked at you as you rose back up. you waltzed over to him, taking his hand and leading him to the edge of the building. many cars passed, people left restaurants, families chattered on the sidewalk.

“if you really wanna be with me, why don’t you pull out your gun and show me?”

[becoming--nobody]

A Fond Goodbye

This is the best way I've come up with sharing something I am moving into after months of consideration and preparation.

Extended vow of silence. 

My long term, fairly extreme health issues have offered unique opportunities. This is one.

I will move into it in a couple or few stages to achieve a place of zero communication or participation in the use of words through even journaling or creative writing.

I will not be seeing any responses or questions to this post.  I've prepared, and my phone and internet will be off after sharing this, without reading any messages there either. It is clear that of the handful of people I communicate with even somewhat regularly these last few years, discussion and explanations would simply work adversely and serve no one any lasting purpose. This has nothing, absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I care about you or anybody.  Most would be surprised by the depth of love I hold for others if it were clear for even a moment.  This is solely about me being obedient to the direction that my path directs me to.

I won't be returning for the foreseeable future.  Future? Lol.  I've gotten fair at not considering much beyond the moment, and find the past more of an aggressive opponent in the most random of ways. 

It has all become very humorous! I've known for 14 months that all I've been asked to do to become more aware, is to participate in silence more diligently.  Initially it seemed a clear and easy intuitive instruction. No rules or guidelines- just stop talking, find peace in silence like I've often enjoyed, observe, and be still.

It did not turn out to be easy, and has become hilarious in my misjudgement of it. 

So, through encountering signs and messages daily in nearly every thing I read, watch, or encounter in any way, as well as the repetition of intuition, it seems more commitment is required. Silence like this includes not absorbing input from computers, phone, books, or anything other than nature or the quiet of a room. 

I could not articulate some goal or offer any explanation that would suffice. I'm simply beyond ready to see who and what hides inside the facade that has been this "stan" for so long now.  He has been many things, none of which are connected with consistent, conscious awareness to the reality of the Eternal.

It's time.  Pun intended.  😎

I want for each of you the most amazing experience of this life, however you desire to pursue your time here. Even more, that your experiences draw you deeper and deeper into the flow of harmony that is the biggest participation with Life as is possible.

I love you,

Peace,

Lost Dog

A.K.A. Stan

and 

@becoming--nobody

I would like to say to my 2 Sisters, and my oldest Friend and his wife;

I have never stopped admiring and loving you. Your memories likely focus on me communicating poorly regarding my inability to continue our relationships. I knew as I seperated from you, or mutually from one another each time, that it is my shortcomings to be unable to maintain the path I've been walking, while frequently trying to explain what was obviously not being understood. I don't need to be understood, but found this of great impact to many areas of my daily life in my behavior and speaking.  I hope you've been been able to resolve any resentment or issue with me satisfactorily enough to be free of any negative things I may have aroused in your heart and mind.

With that said, I have continued even from those very moments, to direct my thoughts and prayers in love that you each know comfort and peace in all the ways you most deeply desire. I have come to appreciate every single experience we ever shared, the toughest times often becoming my favorite ones in reflection of how I could do better, or seeing clearly some weakness in my self I worked to accept and love. Thank you.

[vikingstoner69]

Hiii I am here from AO4 😎

Can you do a fic for Eric Northman or Godric cus I have an obsession, just watched the show and went straight to tumblr and ao4…

(Maybe newly turned reader, new to the whole vampire thing 😌)

Fandom: True Blood

Pairing: Godric/Reader

Auther note: OMG i'm so very sorry this took so very long to do this. I really hipe this is what you were wanting I gave it my very best shot.

You rush into the house not paying the other vampires and humans any mind you were here for only one reason, Godric. You pass Eric and he gives you a grin as you pass him. You open the door and find Godric in the middle of the room shirtless, his hair damp from his shower. Without a second thought you rush to him and wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him, his arms holding you tightly.

"I was so worried! I thought I lost you! Please don't ever scare me like that. I love you way too much to lose you!" You sob and you tense when you realize what you just said. Godric pulls back and gives you a soft smile before he strokes your face. You feel your heartbeat pick at his soft touch.

"Even after everything I have done?" He asks softly, you smile and look up at him.

"Godric, I have been with you for 800 years. I was there for quite a bit and lets not forget the things I have done Godric" you say honestly Godric sighs and shakes his head softly. He softly traces the stone around your neck, his hand traces up your throat and into your hair and he pulls your face closer to his.

"Would you walk the night with me? Forever?" He asks softly, you feel your stomach flip and you feel a heat spread throughout your body.

"Yes godric" you whisper, Godric kisses you softly at first. You moan softly as he deepened the kiss. You kiss him back just as deeply, your hands tangle in his hair and he groans, making you shiver. His lips travel to your neck making you moan. Godric pulls away from you and deeply in your eyes.

"I have only turned two people in 2,000 years on this earth but I will turn you if that is what you wish" he says, you look in his eyes deeply his hold on you firm against him. You stroked his face softly, your fingers stroked his body lip before you lean up your lips ghosting his.

"I'm yours Godric and always" you say softly kissing him deeply his fingers going into your hair.

"Eric has everything ready, come the sun will be up soon" he says grabbing your hand and you smile following him out of his room and out back under a weeping willow tree. Eric stood beside the deep grave that had a bit of soft bedding. Godric gets in and then helps you down. You bite your lip as you take a seat on the soft blanket.

"I'm a little nervous" you say softly and godric smile as he takes his spot next to you.

"It will be alright, I promise" he says softly as he moves you to lay down so he is now hovering over you. You look up at him and give him a smile as his fangs come down with a (click) you reach up and stroke his face lightly before you breed your throat to him.

"I'm ready" you Whisper, you gasp and moan softly as his fangs sink into your neck and he drinks from you deeply. The more he drank the weaker you felt and you knew you would pass out soon. Your body goes limp and he pulls back and cuts his neck open then his hand slips behind your head and he pulls you to his neck. You suck deeply at the wound on his neck drinking down his blood with a moan as your body gets heavy.

"Rest little one" he says softly laying down behind you as he wraps his arms around you.

"Sweet dreams" you barely hear as you go unconscious as Eric buries you both before going to ground himself.

You feel panic as you open your eyes and see nothing but blackness and you start digging your way out of the grave and finally your head breaks free and you blink away the dirt. You felt your head throb as all types of smells hit you full force and finally you opened your eyes. You look around and gasp as you look around you, everything was so clear.

“How do you feel?” you hear his smooth voice from behind you and you look over at him. Godric stood a few feet away from you still dirty from the ground.

“I feel amazing!” you smile and rush into him kocking him back a bit and his hands grap your waist to stedy you.

“Careful love” he chuckles, his eyes never leaving your smiling face. You were so happy and felt so free.

“Ops, sorry.” you laugh, your body felt so alive like a live wire. Your fangs drop and you reach up and touch them softly your finger poked the end and you moan at the taste of your blood and your fangs ache.

“Come, let's get cleaned up and then you shall feed '' Godric says and you felt a strong urge to bite him. You shake the feeling away and follow godric and you blink at the brightness of the lights in the house and finally into the bathroom.

“Why do I feel like this?” you ask softly, your body felt like it was on fire and you reach out for Godirc and he stopped gathering the things you would need for your shower. You bring your body closer to his and you moan as his scent fills your nose. Odd he never had a sent before. His hand gose to your hip and the other to your check.

“Your body is adjusting, everything is more heightened now, you will get control of it soon" he smiles softly and you bite your lip. His touch was scorching your skin and you wanted to feel more of it. You run your hand up his arm up to his shoulder and get as close to him as you can. You look into his eyes seeing so many more colors than you could before. You lean up and kiss him and he kisses you back and you moan.

"Please" you moan, you were not sure what you were asking for but you needed something and you just knew Godric would be able to give you what you need. Godric’s hand strokes your face before he kisses you deeply and you moan, clinging to him. You whine as your fangs drop and they ache and you felt the strong urge to bite him.

“Go ahead, bite me” he say’s huskily, you get closer to his neck and kiss his throat softly before you sink your fangs into his neck, his blood filling your mouth and he groans as you drink deeply his hands roam your body. You grind your hips into his feeling a whole different type of ache.

"Fuck me Godric, an this time don't be gentle" you say in his ear before you bite the lob and he snarls and throws you against the wall his body molding to yours as you both rip each other's clothes off lost in this animalistic lust.

Godric picks you up, making you wrap your legs around him, his hold bruising tight and you want more. You kiss him deeply and moan as his bed sheets hit your back and your hips cradled his hips. Godric's lips trail down to your neck and he sucks a mark into your skin, his lips travel down your body. His eyes lock with yours as he sinks his fangs into your groin and you cry out your hands tug at his hair. Your hips thrust up when he rubs your clit roughly fucking you with his fingers.

"You're drenched for me" he says before sucking your clit into his mouth. You cry out your body felt like a live wire and he was burning you up with each touch.

"Godric please!" You cry out grinding down on his face as you feel so close to cumming and you whine when he pulls back kissing and biting up your body.

"Patience little one, I will give you what you need soon" he grins down at you, his eyes blown with lust. You lean up and kiss him deeply, nipping his lip drawing blood. He growls and slowly enters you and you both moan.

"Oh fuck Godric!" You cry out at the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Godric groans and starts a fast hard pass making the bed slam into the wall, your nails leaving blood masks down his back and he kisses you deeply.

"Mine" he growls pounding into you at inhumane speeds. The sudden drop to the floor does not stop either of you as you both get closer to the edge.

"I'm so close! Oh fuck Godric!" You cry out your fangs ache as you reach your peak and cum hard your fangs sink into his skin and you moan as his blood fills your mouth. You cry out your fangs leaving his neck as he sinks his into your neck as he fills you full of his cum. Godric pants as you both slowly come down from the high.

"Are you alright little one?" He asks, you open your eyes and smile up at him before leaning up and kissing him slowly and deep.

"I'm great Godric" you smile and he grins before he strokes your face and lays on his back. You roll over and lay your head on his chest and enjoy his touch.

"Things will change now" he says softly and you look up at him, his eyes having a far off look.

"Yes, but I think its for the better" you smile and he grins down at you.

"Yes, for the better"

[pixxyofice]

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak 🔁 😈 demongirl-cock

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak ohhh my god how do people deal with having brothers. oh look im gonna tease you and jump behind you when you're studying. please do your job

😈 demongirl-cock Follow ... wasn't your brother the one that blew up?

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak not what im talking about.

29 Notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🎸 hibiki-rock I think @re8elli0n8reak needs to take a break! Go cuddle with that girlfriend she just got. Could say she needs to regain some minty chill, lmaooo

#get it? pelase say someone got it

13 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🦅 horizon-sunsky Every time I look at the sky, I am amazed all over again. Being able to touch them with my hands has given me a whole new point of view, and I'm so thankful that I was able to get these new prosthetics. I love having wings. Next photoshoot should be out soon.

#life with wings #prosthetic wings #not photoshoot #birdkin

7 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🪡 thighroidwrap 🔁 😈 demongirl-cock

😈 demongirl-cock Follow

what the fuck happened when i was asleep

🪡 thighroidwrap Don't worry about it.

#tldr a lot of stuff about vandelay got dumped on us at once #including... peppermint vandelay being among us

54 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🪡 thighroidwrap 🔁 🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak

👼 posts-from-the-angel Follow Imagine being a company apologist 🙄 like helloooo they had ai code literally in their implants, who knows what bad things could've happened, but they expect us to praise them for... having someone else come and deal with it?

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak Alright, that's it.

👼 posts-from-the-angel Follow Oh nooo, the company apologist is going to pull out something that totally isn't more bullshit. cry more

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak

photo from the article liongirlmane shared

selfie i just took

was literally on the rebel team that took the previous head (you know, kale vandelay, my brother) out of commission because of things mentioned in plenty of articles.

🦁 liongirlmane Follow THAT EXPLAINS WAY TOO MUCH?

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak i know i have many issues that i've made clear on this blog but. that hurts

#that obvious huh #anyway identity reveal! yayyy

539 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

💎 sole-emeralds 🔁 🌪 infernochaser97

🎧 sweet-osts-4-tater-tots Follow Endless Possibility - Sonic Unleashed [OST] ▶️

🌪 infernochaser97 @sole-emeralds I saw this and was reminded of you.

💎 sole-emeralds Thank you for the ping! Favorite.

32 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🪡 thighroidwrap 🔁 🦁 liongirlmane

🦁 liongirlmane Follow

Anonymous Asked: 😎

I think I'm a little lost, what was bad about the tech??? horizon doesn't seem to be suffering from their new robot parts???

Well, there was something built into their robot prosthetics that was actively meant to manipulate those who had them. Typical company bullshit. Read this article.

horizon can be glad about their prosthetics all they want but how much of it is from this?

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak next article is about how the current heads have been working to get everybody's part replaced and also what exactly SPECTRA did. stop just looking at one article and leaving it there.

🦁 liongirlmane Follow Oookay...?

662 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🖍 cnmntoastbot 🔁🦁 liongirlmane

🦁 liongirlmane Follow Honestly, the situation over at Vandelay Island just shows how much of a bad idea companies running living spaces are. Revolving that much of life around the place who employs you is just a bad idea.

Credits for company items only? Can't move away if you wanted to start somewhere else? Bad. Read ANYTHING on company towns, and then imagine that. But Worse.

🪡 thighroidwrap I mean, at least the food is free. Even if there are 4 mondays and i don't know which one aligns with your weekends

🦁 liongirlmane Follow What

🎸 hibiki-rock That's being fixed! AND we're even getting rid of the AI in the robot parts!

🦁 liongirlmane Follow WHAT?!

🖍 cnmntoastbot He is completely correct! (o´▽`o) If you were ever wondering why your friends who took residence on our island made any monday posts on other days of your week, that would be why! \(^ヮ^)/

1.2k notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak 🔁🖍 cnmntoastbot

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak I want... tiddy... in my face....

🖍 cnmntoastbot (⌒_⌒;) i suppose you are glad to be dating someone who can do that for you now!

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak CNMN WHAT THE FUCK. @Kirby-Mass-Defend PLEASE TELL YOUR ROBOT TO NOT REBLLOG POSTS LIKE THIS?????? THIS IS TWO YEARS OLD

42.1k notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🎸 hibiki-rock 🔁 🦁 liongirlmane

👼 posts-from-the-angel Follow If you don't reblog anything about this, you're a shitty person. Vandelay Island has been on fire for the past week, and it's in NO news articles at all! So here's a summary of what's been happening...

keep reading

🦁 liongirlmane Follow ... there... there are, though?

🎸 hibiki-rock Its all i hear on my morning commute >.>

#blah blah blah here's the section of the island that's closed off i'm SICK OF IT

51.3k notes 🗨️🔁❤️

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak 🔁 🪡 thighroidwrap

🪡 thighroidwrap Your daily reminder to TAKE OFF YOUR PROSTHETICS. It's NO LEG DAY!

🐈‍⬛ re8elli0n8reak NO LEG DAY!! NO LEG DAY!!

3 notes 🗨️🔁❤️

[world-of-fire-and-flight]

The Lair in the Woods: Part 10

A/N: I’M SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT, Y’ALL😭💜 Life’s been busy, but it’s all good stuff (okay well, not all of it but like 90% of it cause life is life and it’s not perfect😂) Good news: book 2 is published, formatting for book 3 is well under way, and I love the job I started around the time of my last update😎 Bad news: I have no idea what free time is anymore (hence my overall disappearance from social media aside from scheduled posts and the dramatic decline in my interactions on here and the actual hellsites)😵

Warnings: reference to being stalked, deception, reference to anxiety, reference to potential murder, hidden identity, some swearing…I think that’s it?? If I missed anything, please let me know😊

My Masterlist | Taglist Info or Taglist Request Form | The Lair in the Woods masterlist

Supervillain wiped their hands dry on a kitchen towel without much thought to the action. Their mind was too preoccupied by Civilian.

More specifically, speculations about who their stalker might be wholly consumed their mind until their phone buzzing on the counter broke their concentration. Setting the towel aside, Supervillain’s brows drew together as they read the caller ID.

“And here I thought I’d have to call you,” they said quietly.

“Yeah, well,” Hero said, “it’s considered professional courtesy to keep each other informed, so don’t get used to it because once we find Civilian Surname’s stalker, this ends and I go back to investigating you.”

Supervillain hummed. “Then I suppose we needn’t drag this out any longer, because I’d rather not get too close to one of the Agency’s pawns.”

They didn’t have to see Hero to know the look on their face. They’d seen it plenty enough times when they’d goaded them in the past—truth be told though, that felt like another lifetime now. Supervillain’s smirk only grew sharper at the tension in Hero’s voice when they replied.

“Very funny,” they said, “but I have better things to do with my time than investigate something so—”

Supervillain’s smirk fell. “Hero, we had an agreement, you said—”

“And there it is.” The Hero’s grin was irritatingly audible, causing Supervillain to clench their jaw as they could see the expression as clear as day in their mind. “We do have an agreement, which is why I’m calling you in the first place. I just hope reminding you that this is a partnership for Civilian’s sake isn’t going to be a recurring thing because I do have better things to do with my time that isn’t rubbing elbows with a wanted criminal.”

Supervillain let out the breath they’d been holding in an effort to stop themselves from snapping at Hero. “What did you find?”

“That’s better. So anyway, I formally adopted the case and took a look, but as far as I can tell, the police investigation is as thorough as it can be. Whoever Civlian’s stalker is, they’re either a professional or have a little extra help, maybe both. I’ve gotta ask,” Hero started, taking a breath, “who are they again?”

“That’s what I’m trying to figure out,” Supervillain mumbled. Pinching the bridge of their nose, Supervillain turned around and leaned against the counter. Just as they went to respond, a shadow of movement caught their attention. Their eyes flicked toward the movement in time to see Civilian quietly slinking into the living room and sitting back down by the fire. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see what I can find and have Right Hand send you what they’ve dug up thus far.”

“Wait, what do you me—”

Supervillain didn’t let them finish, hanging up and shoving their phone in their pocket.

Making certain their footfalls were heavy enough that Civilian could hear them coming but soft enough that they wouldn’t startle them, Supervillain joined them, sitting in their favorite armchair and offering them a smile.

“Feeling better?”

Civilian met their gaze. “Yeah, actually. I think I am.” They paused, glancing about uncertainly. Nibbling on their lip, Civilian’s eyes slowly gravitated back toward them. “Was that your contact, in the city?”

“It was,” Supervillain nodded. “They told me that they’ve started looking into your case and confirmed that the investigation conducted by the local PD was at least thorough.”

Civilian bobbed their head, though their face remained unchanged. Supervillain studied them curiously.

“So what does that mean for me?”

“Well…” Supervillain began hesitantly, “maybe you could help me? Do you mind if I ask you some questions about your life, your routine, the people you know, things of that nature?”

Civilian drew their knees up to their chest and wrapped their arms around them. They still looked exhausted, but behind their eyes was a spark. Supervillain wondered if that meant they were ready to start fighting instead of trying to outrun their stalker.

If so, that was good.

Better than good, it was perfect, actually.

Already, a plan began to bloom in Supervillain’s mind as they asked about anything that could help shed a light to help guide their own investigation.

***

Hero stared at their phone with a frown. Whoever Civilian was, they’d certain changed Supervillain. But now they knew Supervillain didn’t know Civilian Surname. That as much was true.

That’s what I’m trying to figure out, they’d said, sounding just as confused and in the dark as Hero was.

Over and over again, their question and Supervillain’s unguarded response echoed in their head. But it wasn’t as simple as who was Civilian Surname. What really mattered was, how?

How did Civilian catch their stalker’s eye? What made their stalker drawn to them? Where had they first seen Civilian? And when had they chosen to stalk Civilian? How many times had they seen them before that decision was made?

The place they’d first seen or had been in contact with Civilian was perhaps the most important in Hero’s opinion. If they could just narrow it down to that, then maybe they could narrow down a list of suspects specific to that particular facet of Civilian’s life.

Shaking their head, Hero pulled their coat back on and grabbed their keys. They’d just barely have enough time to pick up some coffee before their meeting with Detective…and still be five minutes early like Detective liked. So help the fool that that showed up late. Hero learned that the hard way one time. It didn’t matter that they’d stopped Other Villain from melting Central Museum’s vault and stealing the Precious Artifact worth millions on the black market that could’ve funded their world domination plan, all Detective had cared about was the disrespect they’d shown them by being late.

And so began the vicious cycle of Detective returning the courtesy by making Hero’s job as difficult as possible for the next two weeks until Hero finally decided to show up an hour early and sat and waited for Detective outside their office to get a records release form signed.

Hero hadn’t thought Detective would come around after that, but as it turned out they were both spitefully petty.

Ever since then, they’d had one hell of a working relationship and tight-knit friendship.

“Well, well, well, look who’s early. I wish all my caped partners were as punctual.”

Hero pressed a hand to their chest in mock offense. “Detective, are you working with other heroes behind my back?”

“What can I say,” Detective sighed, taking the coffee Hero offered them, “someone’s got to do your grunt work and we all know that when Other Detective does the paperwork, it’s never admissible in court because they don’t do it right.”

“Vigilante case fell through again?” Hero sat on the edge of Detective’s desk as they resumed their seat.

Detective groaned in response. “Don’t even get me started. It’s like they want the case thrown out.”

“Have you ever wonder—”

“Every. Single. Time.” Detective’s face turned to stone. Their eyes withdrew, focusing on whatever internal thoughts were flitting through their head.

“Well Supervillain owes me a favor,” Hero said quickly, taking an innocuous sip of coffee.

“What?” Detective shot up and slammed their hands on their desk, nearly toppling over their coffee cup and the precarious stacks of paperwork scattered across their desk. “You mean Supervillain, the most ruthless criminal that’s always one step ahead of the law and probably has dossiers on all of us, owes you a favor because you promised to help their precious civilian?”

“Isn’t that what I just said?”

Detective rolled their eyes. “Wow. So, Supervillian gave away one of the most powerful chips in the caped community—no, the entire professional world regardless of profession—to the likes of you.” Detective plopped back down in their seat with a crooked smile. “This has got to be the worst week of their career!” Detective sobered, “Well, this and when Partner dropped off the face of the earth. That’s another one I can’t seem to find. It’s like they’re a ghost.”

Hero’s brows furrowed. They dropped their gaze to the floor. “They’re probably dead. I’ll bet all I have that Supervillain killed them and that’s why you can’t find a body. There probably isn’t one, if Supervillain’s reputation is anywhere near accurate.”

Detective threw their head back laughing.

“You’re probably right! There’s no way Supervillain would let someone, anyone, walk away. I guess you’ll just have to do a little digging for me while you’re working with them to catch Civilian’s stalker.”

“I’ll do my best, but no promises, Detective.”

“And that’s what I like about working with you,” they said, motioning for them to hand over the copies of Civilian’s files Hero had made up for them. “You don’t have a super-inflated ego or think that I’m somehow lesser than you just because I haven’t got a cape and mask and glowing hands or whatever.”

“Superhero again?”

“YES!” Detective burst, “If the media knew half the shit I do about them, they’d drag Supes through town square like they deserve.”

“Or I could make sure back up shows up a little late and they take a few more punches to the face from Other Supervillain?”

“I would love that,” Detective smiled, scanning the pages before them. “This is it? This is all we have to work with?”

Hero nodded. “Supervillain said they’d have Right Hand send over what they’ve got so far.”

“It’s a start, I guess,” Detective grumbled, “If we manage to find their stalker and bring them to justice, it’ll be nothing short of a miracle.”

Hero didn’t bother to agree. Whatever Supervillain was scheming in order to catch Civilian’s stalker, they only hoped it ended the whole affair sooner rather than later, like before anyone had a chance to connect the dots.

The Lair in the Woods Taglist: @just-a-space-rabbit @classicplesiosaur @pigeonwhumps @heninthegarden @kaiwewi @korejon @rivalriotrenegade @alpacamelons @averyconfusedhuman @amerementdoux @istealpants @sweetpeaflower01 @theimportantbreadtraveler Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed (no reason necessary😊)! You can also fill out this handy dandy form if you’d like to be added too!

[thekinkyleopard]

Valentines Interview

Hellboys edition

Today we have a special interview event! It’s Valentines Day and there was a vote amongst the council for it to be the HellBoys! (The council is me and Geez) Anyways! Enjoy this! @aller-geez Owns Kanai and Draeko!

“Alright Boys, Question 1 and feel free for any of you to answer this one….What is the best Valentines gift to give your partner?”

Oh I kno-…

Drugs 😎

Al…VALENTINES Day gift 😒

Yeah, I know, 😏 Drugs!

I-…No don’t listen to him, 🙃 it’s-…

Hey! The fuck? 😠 why not listen to me? 😤 That’s MY answer, 🙄 ok, Drugs. Boom.😎 Especially, the kind that make you wanna touch gents. 👉🏻

🙄 For ME it’s flowers and Chocolate, 🥰 and getting Nai a new fish decoration for his tanks!

Oh yes, I do quite enjoy the trinkets the pet brings home on this specific day every year. Always very thoughtful additions to the colony. 🙂

“Quite the colorful array of answers, all correct in their own ways boys, remember, these answers are simply opinions. There’s no right or wrong,”

You did just specify that all the answers were correct, so that means there can be room for an incorrect answer. Yes?

Kanai…No…that’s not…*clears throat* Moving on…

Question 2: What are you favorite places to be together?

I know Nai’s answer for this…pffft…😏

Bet I know yours too 👀

Yeah, smartass? 😏

Yeah, the bedroom. 🙃

I-…🤔 you right 😏

The Aquarium 🙂

Knew it 😏

Least it’s a real answer! I enjoy the Aquarium with you as well, Nai, 🥰 that and night picnics! I love looking at the stars with them at my side 🌌

Ewyuck…🤢 definitely bedroom, sandwiched between the two of them. 🤤 Ooo when they’re both having one of those sneezing fits too. Heaven. 😩

Real. Alright then, Next question shall we?

Question 3: Is there a goal any of you need to accomplish that could use the help of your partner(s) this Valentines?

Yeah, I’ve been RACKING my brain to try and get this asshole who lives next to us, his dog to stop fucking barking at EVERYTHING 🤬 but I’m starting to think I’ll need Drae or Nai to distract him so I can sneak in the backyard, 👀 nab the dog, bring him inside our place 😈 and fucking eat that little bastard. 😈

Im not helping with that! 😡 It’s not the poor dog’s fault! What’s wrong with you?! 😤

When do you need assistance, Donnie? 🫡 I want to make sure I catch Shark Week on our magic box. 😐

Hm, tonight around 9:30? 🤔

NO! 😤

Why not?! 😤

It’s not moral, nice or appropriate! 😤

Your mother 😤

Alistar, I swear…don’t you harm that poor dog. 😤😤

*Alistar and Kanai share a look between each other*

Oooohkay perhaps I shouldn’t have asked that one 😬 Next…question

Question 4: Would you rather get a box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day or flowers?

Okay wait I have a real answer for this 🫢

You do? 😯

Yes I’m serious…😏

Okay, I’m interested to see where this goes 🫣

Butthole molded chocolates

Yup. 😐 there it is

HEAR ME OUT 😩

I’m listening 👂🏻

Thank you, Nai, 😌 this is why you’re my best friend🫶🏻….but I saw them on my phone and I really would like a box from both of you. 😐

I am uncertain how to achieve, but will give it my best efforts, Donnie. 🫡

Ppreciate you, pal. 🫡

You two are unbelievable. 🙃

Pretty solid answer though Alistar, pretty solid.

Question 5: Last Question; How would you describe the love you all share this Valentines? 

Unique….I cherish the relationship I have with each member of our unity differently, but am very grateful to have them. Truthfully

Kanai 🥺 that is the sweetest thing I think you’ve ever said about love….

W-wait whoa love? Who said love! You all do realize who I am right? 🙃

Passionate! I’d describe it as passionate!

Hello? Is this thing on? *taps an imaginary mic* Again, Love? What are we talkin’ bout here is that some sort of unit of measurement? 🤨

No Donnie, 😐 it’s the one earthly emotion I’ve noticed you avoid the most next to compassion. 🤔

You’re allowed to study the planet, and other people Nai, but you’re not allowed to study me. 😒

I do believe that you lack a choice in the subject 🧐

So help me….😤

And that’s all we have time for today everyone! Hope you all had a lovely Valentines and felt as loved and important as you all are! 🥰🫶🏻

(Oh brother)

*elbows Alistar* 😒….Til next time! 🥳