#someone desperately needs references

[seren-dipitous-art]

Scale/proportion reference. The scale figure falling off the building has me dying. In other news, Seren still can’t draw buildings.

[bucksdaffy]

ok but can we talk about how buck got all jealous/defensive when maddie referred to tommy as "eddie's friend"? he went like 'hold up 🤚🏼 RECENT friend 🙄 AND we met him at the same time 😠 he is just as much mine as he is eddie's, if not even more so now, thank you very much 😑' OH he is down bad

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 3 thoughts

here we go! this episode is titled "blood" which did not bode well for me, the girl who hates blood. but i am dedicated and pushed through in the name of our mission.

we open at a post office. sometimes, i think it would be fun to work in a post office.

but alas! our postman has received a paper cut. he licks it up which... can't be hygienic.

and then he immediately gets fired :( this is sooooo unfair

when he returns to his post his machine reads "KILL"!!! my first thought was that this was gonna be a little shop of horrors style thing where an inanimate object tastes blood and Likes it (Which is sort of what happened? but mostly not really)

((side note: need to see mulder and scully take on audrey two))

so it seems that the people are either being told by machines to do some killing or all the members of the town are experiencing collective hallucination...

mulder arrives. i was distracted by his fluffy hair. from the notes: "his hair is fluffy. he isn't saying much at this crime scene but his hair is fluffy"

! MULDER LORE REVEAL ! he played right field! (this was brought up when the policeman mentioned the suspect was on the softball team)

back to our post office friend, who is near a child with a random nosebleed whilst getting some money, and now the ATM is telling him to kill people

mulder points out that these are spree killings and not serial ones <-okay human embodiment of the nerd emoji.

it's a totally normal report on the crimes, no spooky stuff involved, and scully is reading it... until he mentions UFOs and she says to herself "i was wondering when you'd get to that" LMAOOOOO she knows him too well

we see a woman being lured into a dark garage by a mechanic and i thought i knew where this was going but i DIDN'T because SHE gets paranoid and the machine tells her the guy is gonna get her and she freaks out and STABS HIM

mulder arrives to the crime scene with a really funny looking camera. can anyone provide me more information about this camera? i'm curious

anyway, he shows up at the house of the woman who killed the mechanic, and we see another example of his bountiful social skills when he asks to come in and she says "i'm late for work" and he just barges in and says "you can blame me". i love this man so bad it's actually a problem. he WILL get inside of ur house.

but her microwave is telling her to kill him and she pulls out a knife and STABS him and i was yelling NOOOOOOOO! and then the cop he was with shoots her and VERY QUICKLY we get a cutscene to....

SCULLY AUTOPSY TIME!!!!!!

she thinks there's some sort of chemical that is making the people do this

we also see poor wet meow meow mulder's bandaged arm :(

back to the ex-postman, who is seeking new gainful employment at a supermarket in which there are guns for sale in the back, another reminder that this show is set in america. he starts to see evil things in the TV but resists (and it might be related to the blood drive at the store but? it's a little unclear tbh)

mulder running scene! getting his cardio in! the man is dripping in sweat! he sees a guy toss some stuff in a yard and it's... dead bugs?

so who does he take the bugs to? well, the weirdos who previously were consulted for another case: the conspirators at the lone gunman! famous for the one guy hitting on scully and ripping up her twenty dollar bill

so we're back to these freaks and he says he didn't see their latest issue because "it arrived the same day as my subscription to Celebrity Skin"

now, i had an educated guess here based on name alone, but needed to confirm what this "celebrity skin" truly was. a search brings you to an album by the band Hole, and i was like omg!!! we're gonna get an insight into his canon music taste!!!! there is nothing more i LOVE than learning a character's favorite artists <3

but, this cannot be... for the show takes place before 1998, when the album was released... so i dig further

chat, as expected, it is a porn mag. seems to have involved some unethical stuff. mulder: ur a sick man.

the even sicker man who previously hit on scully was like "where's your little friend?" and he counters with "she wouldn't come. she was too afraid of her love for you" and the weirdo responds with "she's tasty"

now i want you to buckle your seat belts for what mulder says next. buckled? secured? sat? everyone is in a safe position? okay. he says:

"you know, it's men like you that give perversion a bad name"

HELLO? hey. hi! quick question <3 what does that mean. mulder a freak confirmed????

(i mean i guess we DID already know he fucked phoebe on arthur conan doyle's grave, which is going to stick in my head forever, but. don't make it worse. sometimes he's such a Man)

anyway the weirdos at the lone gunman think it's related to pesticides. and then mulder asks to borrow their night vision goggles and the weirdest of weirdos is like "only if you give me scully's number!"

cutscene to him using the night goggles

(mulder, if you gave that creep her number, i will NEVER forgive you. so keep that in mind)

he's sitting in a field and it looks so natural, like he really belongs there. bring back sitting in fields. but then he breaks into the orchard and gets sprayed by some pesticides and thoroughly knocked on his ass

mulder's yelling at some guy to take responsibility for the pesticides that he thinks are killing people... a moral crusader serving on the front lines...

scully's here now, btw. she took his blood. which had to be a strange experience. and then she mentions that she FLEW 300 MILES in the MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT to come take his blood?

holy shit, mulder. she did that for you and you've been so broody and angsty lately and maybe even gave some dick her phone number. holy shit mulder, do not blow this. you cannot afford to blow this. she is soooo good to you.

anyway, he's seeing the same evil messages in technology the killers were now so that's a bummer

mulder proposes that this is some sort of subliminal messaging thing that is being activated by the fear-inducing pesticides and the cop gets pissed and leaves, to which he says "he's probably one of those people that thinks Elvis is dead"

so that's the SECOND line in this show about him being an elvis truther and i'm starting to think it's not a joke

back to the ex-postman. people are coming to his door to take blood and test for the chemicals in the pesticides and he's going bonkers. he's seeing "KILL" in his calculator, which is how you know things are rough. his watch even beeps and says "KILL" which i think would make a very very very very funny gif if anyone has that.

well, all of a sudden he's missing so the agents go to his house and knock. until.

scully realizes the door is open and just. lets herself in. i was laughing SO hard here. these bitches WILL get into your house. they will NOT wait for an invitation. truly a sign of soulmatism.

ex-postman was running running and they're like omg where is heeeeee he's gonna hurt people!!! scully is once again proving her genius status by saying that if it's a paranoia case, then all these guys in police uniforms need to get out of view.

(there's also this shot where mulder is like. smoldering. and she's behind him and man. height difference content i really really do love you and your work <3)

our crazed ex-postman climbs a tower at a college and is gonna start shooting but he's also hallucinating and laughing maniacally which i described in my notes as "entering his joker era"

mulder runs up and prevents a shootout using some handy jujitsu. neeeeed to see if this man is a black belt. for character driven purposes.

but he says that he knows the guy can't stop and overall it's an eerie situation because you can tell the pesticides are still in his brain as well. and his arm is bleeding again and this makes the other guy go into overdrive.

um. okay.

crisis averted...?

well, you sure would like to think that, wouldn't you? but the episode ends with mulder calling scully, and then HE sees more evil stuff in his phone! and it fades to blackness as her voice is heard through the speaker...

(i love that she knew it was him immediately. despite the silence. and that her train of thought went from "it's scully" to "mulder is it you?" to "mulder, what's wrong?" talk about a connection!)

hope he doesn't do anything too impulsive...

in conclusion: my very surface level interpretation of this episode was that it was warning us to not be controlled by technology, which i'm sure felt more relevant back in the day. but now that i have to click "don't sell my data" when i browse flavors of soup for sale online, i think we might just no longer be the target audience. or maybe it's even more relevant! an argument could be made both ways.

down with pesticides, though! i can get behind that! when's the last time you saw a bee? bring them back!

[byanyan]

been crying the last couple days thinking about byan, as an adult, eventually picking up a lot of volunteer work & contributing to youth groups for kids growing up in shitty situations that they relate to all that well. like, they're still kind of a menace about it, encouraging the kids to curse and teaching them how to fight and use knives and shit, but being more responsible than they used to be, supporting them all and being this safe space for them in this way they'd always wished someone would be for them... bringing fun little treats and drawing temporary tattoos for 'em all... ugh. UGH. i'll just always and forever have so many feelings when it comes to byan being the person they wished they'd had growing up for kids with nowhere else to turn, being that protective but really fun and cool older sibling who'll tease the shit out of you but never actually judge you for who you are or how you choose to express yourself. byan coming full circle, making sure (to the best of their ability, anyway) that no one has to suffer through all the same shit they did. byan!! growing and learning and helping out instead of remaining bitter and resentful and choosing not to pitch in just because no one ever helped them!!!!

[sysig]

Size difference.png (Patreon)

[phoenixcatch7]

Cap marvel headcanons I Will integrate into a fic one day but also have Zero basis in canon to my knowledge (this ended up being LONG):

The living lightning is an ancient force akin to the speed force, and the 'true' guardian of magic, being possibly the first 'magical creature' ever created.

The rock of eternity only recently became based on earth, in the past several thousand years, with the planet's deities acting as mountains in the rain cycle - funnels to safely channel the magic back into the Champion. It's a fully symbiotic relationship that benefits the planet and its people immensely.

This means previously the rock has been based on alien planets. Previous champions are ancient aliens, many from species that no longer exist, either because the species died out or evolved into something unrecognisable.

The champion of magic may have inspired the oua (?), the creators and high council of the green lanterns. Ooh maybe an oua was selected as champion, which is how they learned of it!

The living lightning, when not in a mortal vessel, rests in the heart of the Rock in a large brazier, with a smoke lid of white edged with gold in a familiar pattern. It is tradition, or perhaps instinct, for a Champion to light the brazier whenever they visit the Rock. It will be lit for as long as the visit lasts, and be extinguished the next time they come.

Should it choose to take form, the living lightning resembles a washed out combination of each of its previous Champions. Its form is solid and clear, strong and made for battle, but distinctly uncanny. It doesn't leave its brazier, nor speak.

The 'ideal form' of a hero varies all the time, doesn't it? Especially if you're a kid still growing and learning about yourself and the world. Headcanon cap ever so subtly changes features sometimes. Gradually. Height and build changes sometimes. One of the league members has noticed but they really can't prove it to themselves and it's driving them crazy. Billy has no idea.

On that topic, the 'ideal form' also includes the clothes, right? The red costume? If Billy transforms with the intent of doing something outside his normal hero things (ie, attending a celebration), the outfit has every reason and ability to change to reflect that! Everyone expecting cap to show up in his normal gear and ready to throw a formal suit at him to wiggle on over his costume and he shows up in a red and gold set with a little one shoulder cape like 'yeah I have no idea either'.

Cap marvel Is An Adult. Billy isn't, but cap is in every single way that someone could count. This is probably canon but in some fics I think the jl forgets lol. It's still the same soul, just, with an adult filter instead of a kid one. However that filter manifests.

Not sure this is canon too, but the idea of the mind/soul/whatever of cap manifesting as this great impossible mass. A storm, or a tiger, or a barrier of lightning. This giant, untouchable, dormant mass of power and implied Danger™. Again, Billy has no idea. J'onn is eying warily from a very safe distance.

His wiki practically waxes poetic about his abilities and skills in strategy, mathematics, nigh precognition from ability to spot and manipulate patterns. Captain marvel is unbeatable at chess. Batman has lost to him. Billy cannot do fractions and it drives him up the WALL.

The champion, and ONLY the champion, can share his powers. If shazam wants a second champion he has to give a new set wholesale or convince the champion to share. Similarly, those patroned by the champion cannot transform unless the champion is also transformed. Because otherwise that would be too easy for Billy lol.

Every time Billy asks, tawky gives a different canon origin story. Billy has no idea which is true.

Billy's parents died accidentally freeing Adam on their expedition. Probably crushed by rubble :(. The wizard is the only one who knows and really isn't inclined to share, and Adam either hasn't connected the dots or never really noticed they were there.

Cap and Billy love each other, regardless of whatever version their whole thing is. They're the only reason the other remembers self care and that kind of self love, even if he's not sure he deserves it, makes a world of difference with how they portray themselves to the world.

Cap doesn't need to breathe to speak but he never remembers that and has repeatedly choked in water and space. Superman empathises but tries not to find it funny after the third time it happens.

Billy has showed the wizard memes.

The wizard internally refers to Billy as the 'sassy, lost child'. He has a pointy hat like any good wizard but refuses to wear one since Billy keeps asking him to, pretty please.

Cap once won an arm wrestle with superman by pretending to lick his hand. He didn't. Billy would have.

Cap marvel CANONICALLY bites but after the first time he regulates his jaw strength. Thankfully it was Black Adam so no one lost a hand. He had him in a headlock so who's fault was it really.

Ebenezer doesn't have a strong opinion on cap marvel either way. Billy thinks that's almost worse.

The living lightning isn't lightning. It was around before lightning. It is living, however. It is that 'living' that forms the main consciousness of the Champion form, in this case Marvel. Its not sentient or sapient itself, that's the vessel, but it is the building blocks of it.

In dc (again no idea if this has any basis in canon) magic is the fifth state of matter, above plasma. Yes this interferes incredibly with quantum physics and theoretical science. No the magic users don't know how it works either. No they will not help you they have their own research (into the exact same thing) to do.

If the Rock is obliterated cap marvel will die (along with pretty much everything else but irrelevant). However, if he manages to save the brazier, he will continue on. Magic as a whole deal won't be very happy and aeons of magical knowledge and history and artifacts will be lost, but cap will live and can rebuild from the ashes. The brazier is Heavy but enough super strength can move it if you don't mind bringing a chunk of floor. And the rock is so weakened it's literally falling apart but those are the right circumstances anyway so.

[un-pearable]

i do in fact think the xorda are awesome actually. like thats genuinely a fun plotline its cool as hell that archie sonic mobius is post alien-goop-apocalypse earth and the aliens STILL have a grudge and fake-killed sonic the hedgehog about it thousands of years later. its peak comics you can't prove me wrong

[acaesic]

i really want to finish all my unfinished art before i turn 15 but im so burnt out rn 😭 </3

[vettesebas]

.

[charonte-simi]

Yesterday I was told that I "act like someone who goes to therapy" and I've no fucking clue how to take that or what it means and I'm still thinking about it

[comicalcarnival]

"X AU_ Missed Connection"?? it sounds sad...

it starts off as like. Angst train 101 but surprisingly speedruns into "the entire Xio team has adopted X (who has taken on Daichi's appearance and is claiming to have amnesia) and now X has like, 5 siblings and 4 parents"

there's teeeechnically a fic I posted about it already (The Dream is from the MC au) but most of it is unposted still. (which is a shame, its like. 30k words and only 6~ chapters so far. well, 6 chapters and then mini .5 chapters between every chapter w/ silly in between moments/things only mentioned in the main chapter/other chara's introspection on misc events)

I'm tempted to post it, but also i feel like I should re-do the first few intro chapters so it's more coherent (p sure i wrote those ones back in 2020...? MC AU's been a WIP for SOOOOO long, awhoopsie.)

[rxkuyo]

the urge to tell this woman that she's fucking dumb in the pettiest most angry way vs. me having to calm myself down and be as friendly about pointing out things she might want to reconsider because I am trying to help this horse and telling her off in any way will just result in her shutting down and not considering my (very valid) points at all

[blackpink]

my girl. you dated that boy, and you liked him, he was respectful towards you AND he made you laugh. believe me when i tell you, two years are nothing. my mom and dad had two years, she was also the older one. IT MEANS NOTHING!!! it means something when he makes you laugh tho. so i am here to tell you dont ruin it with this boy !!!! TALK TO HIM trust me. you are also not old so dont feel like it plss

usually i don't feel like a two year age gap is that much, most of the men i dated were younger than me but with this guy i could simply feel he was too young. not sure how to explain it but he was a bit childish? and still a student with no stable income living in a shared apartment, which is fine of course, but as someone who has been out of uni for 5 yrs and living on her own for ages i could simply feel a big gap in maturity – i think that's the best way to describe it. and then there was the missing attraction, you can't force that..

[becca-alexa]

love it when i meet with people and find out their sole purpose in life is finding me a husband 😔🙏💗

[eupheme]

— trouble will find me

[part ii | masterlist]

bodyguard!logan x mobster’s daughter!reader

rated e - 3k

tags: 70s era, dofp/bonedaddy!logan, bodyguard!logan, reader is the daughter of a mobster, reader is shorter than Logan, club setting, use of alcohol, cigar smoking, mutual pining, flirting, light brat taming!logan, references to violence, competence kink, semi-public vaginal fingering, kissing, forbidden relationship

a/n: I can’t stop thinking about dofp!logan sleeping with the girl he’s guarding, this is inspired by that scene! huge thank you to @pr0ximamidnight who let me chit chat about this little idea. you are amazing! 💖💕

His eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip, “‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You hum, “But what if I want a little in me?”

You can feel his eyes follow you.

Which shouldn’t really be surprising. It's his job, of course. Keep an eye on you, keep you safe.

But there’s something in the way he watches.

A curl of smoke from a lit cigar. Fingers tracing the rim of a half-downed whisky, a worn leather jacket thrown over a broad shoulder. The tilt of his chin when your eyes meet his - dark and narrowed, missing nothing. Slipping over you like the soft silk of your dress.

Indulging, almost. Unashamed.

You might have a crush.

You're trying not to think about it too much.

Tonight, you're just trying to enjoy the after-party.

It's all bright lights.

The room is bathed in pinks and yellows and flashing red. Disco club music pumped through the speakers, the panels of the floor flickering to the beat. You've been here for two hours already. Nursing tequila sunrises and pink squirrels. Sweat sticking to the nape of your neck, as the minutes tick by, bleeding past midnight.

He's not going to stop you, just yet. You can have your fun tonight - sway to the beat of the music - as long as you play by the rules.

Logan is so different from the ones before him.

Tripping over their feet to check on you. Breathing down your neck, with their padded-shoulder suits smelling like cigarettes and cheap cologne. Too afraid for themselves, of your father, to actually do a good job of protecting you.

Stifling and all too willing to tell you yes to anything.

It was exhausting.

Logan had come recommended - an acquaintance of a friend. He'd 'get the job done' from what you heard. Motivated. Needed the cash and would listen, no questions asked.

Just the type your father thought he could sway - a half-wild guard dog, his salary a leash. Heeling at the click of a tongue, the snap of fingers.

It's not how you saw him, though.

His silence was not obedience. There was nothing bought about this man - watching you from the line of leather booths along the wall.

You've wondered if maybe - you're just desperate to find some form of kindred spirit in someone. Too used to feeling like an accessory instead of a person. Your appearance at your father's events drove home his image. The good, family man who was oh so generous with his time and money.

Articles were written weekly about how philanthropic he was.

You had no idea if anything ever came from the numerous events you hosted - an attempt at doing something with your education. How much was skimmed off your blood, sweat, and tears, funneled back into what he did best.

Maybe you both saw through the bullshit.

He'll last longer than the others, at least.

More than once you've been halfway out the door, headed off to East Village or SoHo, only for him to catch you by the scruff of your sweater - whisking you back inside or into the Lincoln Town Car before you realized what happened.

An angry fist connecting with the nose of a man who had gotten too close at a gala last week. Cornering you in the coat room. Logan, charging in like a snarling beast when you had whimpered his name - red dripping down to stain the pressed white collar as the man was hauled away.

You’ve been thinking about that for days.

There was no sucking up. No flashing of a holster under his arm, some grandiose promise that you don't need to worry. You've never even seen Logan near a weapon but somehow, you feel more safe with him than you ever have with anyone else.

But this bit of internal tenderness that has sprouted, paired with his competency, has been seriously cramping your style.

It’s been enough that he's been hard to get out of your mind. Two weeks of teasing and poking at the limits set. Never giving you much, with that glare - thick arms crossed over his chest. A little thrill rippling up your spine, when his voice goes low and gruff.

The lights go dim, as the music begins to slow.

With the way your eyes wander, you know he sees you when you pick up a partner.

A man that moves with you, peeling off to crowd your space after your hips swivel with the hustle. His hand dipping low from where it rests on the small of your back.

Bold, when he bends to ask you 'if you'd like to get out of there'.

You meet Logan's eyes when you tell him yes.

Telling yourself that it's just to forget him. Definitely not because you're desperate to see the look on his face. To hear that tone he takes when he's pissed off.

A way to ascertain if you've taken root in his mind, even for just a moment.

There's zero chance Logan heard you from across the room. But it doesn't stop him from moving. Pushing to his feet, cutting straight through the crowd to wrap a hand around your bicep the second you start peeling off with the stranger - heading towards the side door.

"No fucking chance." It's gritted out, as he yanks you to him. Your shoulder collides against his chest as he steps between you and the man.

A sloppy hand pushes against his arm. The man's eyes are hazy under the neon lights as he makes a grab for you.

"Come on, man. I saw her first."

Logan pivots you away with a snarl, "She ain't leaving with you, bub."

Another sloppy shove, glancing off the brown leather jacket.

"You're really starting to piss me off." Logan's tone drips with warning, with knowing, "Gonna regret starting something in a room full of people like this."

And it's now that he takes in how big Logan is. The flex of splayed-wide fingers, knuckles curling into a clenched fist. A look in his eye that says that punches won't be pulled - not tonight.

The stranger takes a step back. It's enough.

You're already getting hauled away before they can answer. Guided into one of the many VIP rooms. A snarled "get the fuck out of here" to the attendant, before Logan's crowding you against the bar - hands bracing on his hips.

Fuming, you push yourself up to sit on the top - an attempt to get closer to his height.

"What was that about?" Your chin lifts, as your arms cross.

His eyes flash - a curl of his lip, "Can't you make my job easy, kid?"

Kid. It always makes you bristle. So far from that, and it's the way he says it. That dripping edge, like he knows something you don't.

"Maybe he was a friend." You deadpan.

"Yeah. Real friendly," He scoffs, fingers rubbing the bridge of his nose, "You think your daddy is gonna like you going home with a piece of shit like that?"

That makes your teeth clench - a glare sent his way, "I don't think it's any of your business."

"It's literally my business, sweetheart." Logan huffs. His hands curl around the edge of the bar, braced on either side of your knees.

Your breathing hitches, for just a second. The soft name is ground out between his teeth, but it still shoots straight to your pussy.

You haven't been this close to him before. Enough to see the bleed of brown to green in his hazel eyes. The sharp mark between his brows that you want to press your thumb against.

The shorn-down hair at his chin, before it grows thick across his cheeks. Handsome in a way that makes you ache, your fingers curling into fists to keep from touching him.

There's been moments alone - car rides, lounging in the armchair in the corner of your room when he barks at you to hurry up.

But it hasn't been like this.

Maybe it's the opportunity. Maybe it's the amber glitter of tequila in your veins, but you let your palms press against the shining wood. Your knees inch a little further apart, the hem of your dress riding up your thighs.  

"That the only reason you whisked me away?” Your eyebrow lifts, "Kidnapping, if I recall, is one of the things you're supposed to be keeping me safe from."

"You are safe." He deflects, "'s not kidnapping when it's me.”

Those eyes are still on yours. Not dropping to where his hips nearly press against the edge of the bar top.

You break the eye contact first.

“Well, it’s fine.” You sniff - as if his actions had been your idea, “I didn’t want him anyways.”

Logan grunts. There’s the slightest brush - the flex of his thumb at your thigh, where your dress rides up. A long look before he’s pushing back to step away, but your fingers reach out, catching on his white shirt.

“Are you going to ask me what I do want?”

There’s the slightest twitch of his nose. Lips parting to show the peek of a tongue, caught between teeth. The briefest dip of his eyes. Down to the shadow between your breasts, pressed together as you lean forward to catch him.

“I know what you want, sweetheart.” He rasps, “Not gonna happen.”

The rejection stings, and you pout, “What isn’t?”

A sigh, and he’s stepping back into your space. Your hand flattens against his stomach, hard muscles beneath as his head tilts.

“You want a man to take you home. Treat you nice.” Logan’s eyes burn into you. Wide hands curving around your knees, thumbs pressing into flesh, “I’m not that guy.”

You wonder if he can hear your heartbeat. How it thunders to the beat of the music muted outside this room. Dropping down to pulse between your thighs.

Wondering if he’s thought about you, the way you have him. How he could both see and miss so much at once.

“You’re wrong,” Your head shakes, “I don’t want that.”

A breath, before you’re confessing, ”I want you.”

Logan's eyes darken. Fingers pinching against your skin, as he adjusts his grip.

“‘s a bad idea, sweetheart. Supposed to keep you out of trouble.”

Your hands skate lower, fingers tracing the edge of his belt buckle. His nostrils flare - a warning, though he does not move.

“Supposed to keep me out of trouble,” You echo, “But what if I want a little trouble in me?”

The smile you give him is sweet, a tilt of your head as he catches your hand. Thick fingers curl at your wrist, holding your hand in place. A thumb pressed up against your pulse.

“You wouldn’t know what to do with me.” He rasps, voice low.

You’re undeterred.

“Could get on my knees.” You coo, “You could show me. Would you like that?”

Logan’s jaw grits. His grip loosens just long enough to feel your wrist flex - before he guides your hands, pressing your palms flat against the polished wood.

“It’s not going like that,” He husks. The tone is the same as when he’s ordering you around, one that makes your back go straight, “Those are staying right there. Got that, honey?”

All you can do is nod, as his hands skate up your thighs. Fingers massaging into flesh, soft and smooth as he eases them wider apart. Fitting himself closer between them.

The way he looks at you now is the way he did before.

Focused, as your dress inches higher. The fabric pooling at your hips as they tilt toward him, the pretty lace between your thighs now on display.

“Look at you,” His tongue clucks. A finger tracing the elastic edge, as you clench in anticipation, “Need this, don’t you?”

Drifting across, a thumb pressing against the fabric. It sends a jolt through you, your fingers almost reaching for him before you remember.

“Good girl.” He muses, as your hands flatten again.

The slightest pressure as the pad of his thumb slips up. Nudging against your clothed clit, as you inhale a sharp breath.

Pressing, and circling. It’s agonizingly slow, his eyes flicking up to watch the way you bite back a whimper. Your hips flexing into his touch, aching for more.

It lifts, so he can see how the fabric has dampened. Clinging to your skin, his knuckle tracing your seam.

“Making a mess.”

You can only whine in reply. Afraid that he’ll stop if you make too much noise. If you move - he’s made it clear he’s in charge here, and for once you’re willing to follow.

The pad of his thumb pulling back, a faint shine in the neon-bathed room.

“That for me?”

Your head nods, “Logan, please-”

There’s a sharp flash of teeth. Fingers pressing low, fitting against you, “You want me here?”

“Yes.”

You need him. Need anything he’ll give you, the sharp pinch in your palms where your nails bite into flesh.

“Ask me.” He coos.

“Please put use your fingers,” It comes in a rush, “Want you in me-”

Logan smirks, as his fingers slip beneath the waistband. Air sucked through clenched teeth when he meets slick, soaked skin. A teasing swirl against your clit before he’s parting you.

The tip of his middle finger tracing your hole, before it dips inside. His hips flex against the wooden edge, when you clench around him immediately. Trying to draw him deeper, as he works himself further in.

His fingers are much thicker than yours. A second already tracing where he opens you up. Teasing the tip in as his hand flexes, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit.

Your head tips forward. Each breath growing shorter, as you’re stretched around him. That slight ache unfurling into pleasure. Panting, as the pump of his fingers grow louder - the muffled cadence of skin against skin each time his palm collides with your cunt.

The fabric strains against his hand, his knuckles pressed against the soaked fabric.

Something bright burns in your belly, as your knees press into his hips. It makes you break the rules - a hand grasping at his arm. Anchoring yourself with your grip.

“I wanna watch. Let me see you.”

He lets you. A tap against your hip so you can lift. Carefully pulling your underwear down, easing them over the heels of your boots.

The lace disappears into his jacket pocket. His palms against your inner thighs, spreading you open. A throaty groan when he sees you, one that he can't quite manage to bite back - the rough sound shooting straight through you.

You both watch, when his fingers fit inside you this time. Two sinking down to the knuckle, slick and shining.

Unable to bite back the moan this time, though he does not shush you. His eyes fixed on your face instead, watching how your brow pinches when his fingers crook deep inside you. Searching.

The way you go jolt and then go tense when he finds it, a soft cry loosening.

“You been fucked like this before?” Logan growls, his fingers dragging against that soft spot inside you with his emphasis.

Your head shakes, when he does it again. Eyes dropping to watch his how hand looks, how you wrap around his fingers. The slick shine as they pump a little faster.

His other hand taps against your thigh.

“Words, sweetheart.”

“No,” It comes out hushed. Needy. “Never.”

His lips part with his groan, baring his teeth. With the way he touches you - his thumb moving to rub circles against your clit - it’s not long before he has you close.

A swiftly building pressure in your belly. That space between you eases as your knees close around his hips. His head tilting until his nose ghosts against your cheek.

Breath hot against your neck, as he inhales you. The slightest scrape of teeth that makes you bear down on his fingers - so careful not to leave a mark behind.

“Logan,” You pant. “That feels, ah, I think I’m gonna come-”

He groans against your skin, keeping the same pace. Feeling how you forget yourself - grasping at him, arching into his touch. Your muscles going tight as your breath grows short - panting.

“Give it to me,” Logan growls, “Come on my fucking fingers, baby.”

It’s impossible not to listen. You come, with his thumb pressing against your clit. His fingers notched deep inside you, as he feels your pulse racing beneath his lips.

The moan that rips from you pitches up, and then goes silent.

It leaves you breathless. Deep waves throbbing inside you, as you dampen his palm. Washing over and pulling you under, as your vision darkens.

“That’s fucking it. Come on, honey.” He coos, “Just look at you, so fucking pretty.”

The pump of his fingers goes still, the tips still crooking, as the tight pulses wane. The air comes rushing back into your lungs as you come back to yourself, your hands fisted in his jacket.

His chest heaves. Eyes hungry, when he slips from you. Slick clinging to them, webbing between his fingers as he pulls them up to the light.

Before he’s focusing on you again, his other hand thumbing at your lip.

“Open.”

They part automatically. Closing around the fingers he feeds you. The salt of his skin pairing with the sweet tang of your release, too blissed out to do anything but suck them clean.

“Good girl.”

It’s soft, as his fingers press down. Spreading, until you’ve cleaned yourself from them. Only when they slip from you, does his head dip.

A soft sound as his mouth presses against yours. There’s the sweep of his tongue against your lip, needy and insistent. You part for him, swallowing the moan as he tastes you. Teeth and tongue - deepening the kiss as his hands grip at your waist.

Letting your hands grasp at his shoulders. Tug at his hair until you’re pulled flush against him, your tits crushed against his chest.

Hungry, threatening to devour you, until you mumble his name.

Bringing him back to himself. Sharing a breath, Logan’s forehead pressed to yours when he pulls back. Those spit-slick fingers dropping down.

Palming himself roughly, where his cock strains - thick and hard against his jeans. A bitten-back groan, the word “fuck” rumbling deep in his chest as his hips flex into his hand.

“You going to listen now? Get that out of your system?” It comes out ragged, and you’re nodding.

All your sharp edges smoothed down. Blissfully complacent, as his fingers get a better grip on your waist. Bringing you down to the floor with wobbly legs, his hand coming to grasp at your upper arm.

“Good.” He growls, “Come on.”

A sharp tug, and you almost trip over yourself to follow.

“I’m taking you home.”

ahh I had the idea for this and had to jot it down! and I do know he goes by james/jimmy in the 70s because it’s pre-weapon-x, but I'll be keeping it as logan for this. (And I am thinking this will be a two-shot - give her a chance to get what she wants 😏💖)

[whathorselegs]

Haven't been able to get these words out of my head. The fact they are the last thing he says. At first, I was just like "Okay, that's a very Kunikida thing to say" but then I put them into context of what just happened.

He'd been impaled and was desperately trying to use his last moments to allow Tanazaki time to escape. He knew he wasn't living after this, so as per his ideals he was going to fight until his last breath to save another life. If he can die in-service of helping someone else survive, that's enough for Kunikida.

And then he hears Atsushi shout his name. Atsushi ran up from behind Amenogozen, Kunikida probably saw him coming as well. He gripped the sword in his chest with the last of his strength to aid Atsushi in whatever way he could.

And Atsushi chose to save Tanizaki. The very thing he'd been trying to do just seconds before.

That why I think he'd smiling here, that's why I think he says his ideals will live on. Not in some abstract way, but in a direct reference to Atsushi, because he was Atsushi's mentor too. From day one, Atsushi has been seeking guidance from Kunikida, even when he didn't know how to give it.

One of the first pieces of advice Kunikida gives Atsushi is to "start thinking what you can do."

And it has been something he's been trying to figure out ever since. What can he do to help those who need it? To be worthy of living?

Both Atsushi and Kunikida want to save people. Both of them have been struggling on how to achieve that this whole time. Saving people isn't just a single action to Kunikida, it's sacrifice, it's taking on a burden, it's knowing you're tied to this person afterwards.

It's knowing you can't always save everyone no matter how much you want to. It's prioritizing saving who can and living with that.

Kunikida knew he couldn't be saved, but he hoped Tanizaki could. When Atsushi chose to leave him and save Tanizaki he following in Kunikida's footsteps.

His ideals will live on, in Atsushi.