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tuliptired · 3 months

Note

hi! can i request a egan x complete opposite reader? like someone so different like a model or actress of some sort

Uptown Girl

Pairings: Egon Spengler/Fem!Actress!Reader

sorry for looking at stantzler yaoi while this was sitting in my drafts

Better formatting on Ao3!

Peter could tell something was up with his friend. Something different from the norm. In the past handful of weeks, Egon’s turned into a fidgety, flighty mess. Misprinting calculations, misplacing tools- all in blue. He was wearing so much more blue. The reticent man never really had a favorite color, something Peter relearned everytime he probed him when bored, but this was just way too out of character. Egon? Color coordinating? Insanity.

He had a discarded newspaper open at his excuse for an office, spacing out while Ray messed around with Janine’s little TV, Winston holding a flashlight over it for him. She had won it when she was small, the faulty wiring spilling out the back panel a testament to its age.

Janine sat up impatiently, folding her magazine. “It’s almost time Ray, is it working?”

Ray dropped his pair of pliers. “It should be,” he said unconfidently, screwing the paneling back on as Winston adjusted the antenna. The machine crackled and popped, sounds and images cutting in and out as it gained and lost a signal.

The subject of Peter’s suspicions came down the stairs flinching at the noise, looking to pass and leave the firehouse but too intrigued by the feat of electrical engineering happening at Janine’s desk. “What’s this?”

Peter’s eyes narrowed at the barely there sight of a shiny, new silver watch. Christ, were those blue diamonds? Everyone who’s regularly stepped foot into the firehouse has tried and failed at attempting to get Egon to upgrade his wristwear, the old brown thing that barely had an audible tick. Peter’s own seasonal gifts for him got fancier and fancier as the years went on, Egon turning down a Timex with an alarm at one point. He insisted that anything he could go out and buy would serve the same purpose as the beatdown leather already owned- regardless of needing to squint to see the arms.

She opened her magazine back up again, fluttering through glossed pages until she found the right one. “You’ve heard of that one show, right?” Janine held up an advertisement for the program, promoting big guests like Madonna or Robin Williams. “I’ve been trying to catch the reruns-”

“And I’ve been trying to tell her that it ruins the integrity of the show.”

“If I wasn’t locked up in here every Saturday night, I wouldn’t have to. Don’t put down the receiver, Winston.”

Ray watched with his fist under his chin as the signal got closer and closer to whatever channel he had twisted the knob for. Janine sat up straighter, flipping to a different page. “Anyway, there’s a new actress on there, and I don’t wanna miss her.”

Winston leaned over to check if the screen was any clearer. “My sister showed me an article on her. Very fashionable.”

“I know, her picture was on billboard on 46th,” Janine raved, “you’d like her, Peter.”

He shook his head, licking his pointer finger to get to a different section of the paper. “I’m more into musicians.”

Egon spoke up, eyebrows furrowed. “You’re mistaken, Peter. She’s an incredibly talented actress with an incredible repertoire.”

Looks were exchanged between all of them. If the elephant in the room was offended, he didn’t show it. “What?”

“Nothing,” Ray shrugged, “it’s just…she’s so..”

“Outgoing.”

“Witty.”

“Expressive.”

“And you’re you! Nothing wrong with it,” Ray patted his taller friend’s shoulder.

Egon looked at his colleagues blankly. “I can still enjoy her work, despite certain character differences.”

The TV finally got a stable connection, though not celebrated by anyone in the room as Egon’s anomaly took up all their attention. “I thought you didn’t have a television?” Winston questioned, moving the antenna again and losing the stream.

“I don’t.”

Peter raised an incredulous eyebrow to him from across the room. Something like a realization flashed behind Egon’s eyes, before he turned his eyes from their gaze and cleared his throat. “I’m going home early tonight. Call me if you need anything.”

That certainly didn’t do anything to soothe Peter’s speculation. Egon barely ever went home. If anything, the only reason he had an apartment to his name was because it was expected of him after graduating his last year of university. Even so, he was barely ever there, spending his nights slumped over in a lab- Columbia’s or otherwise. Peter would be surprised if the man was still paying rent.

Ray and Winston must’ve been carrying the same sentiment. “We’ll still be seeing you tomorrow, right Eges?”

The man stood stiffly, as if under a spotlight. “Hopefully.” He was motionless, before grabbing Janine’s TV and scurrying out the door.

“Hey!”

Strange indeed.

Egon walked briskly under the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. It was almost 7, after all. A warm brown bag of Chinese food sat under his arm as he got closer to the rickety door. He hesitated to turn the key, hearing staticky music on the other side. When he did, there you were, surrounded by brown bags just like his and messing with the antiquated radio by his stovetop. It felt odd, and strangely smug, to have you in his tiny and bland apartment after his friends praised your stardom.

Your manicured fingers turned the volume down. “Sorry! It’s hard to entertain myself here when you don’t have a TV.” The same woman that was all over Times Square was here, in his kitchen, placing a kiss to his cheek.

“I do now,” he juggled the boxy appliance before you took it from him gently.

“Where’d you get this? It’s adorable,” you smiled, inspecting it. He peered into the bags cluttering his limited counter space as he put down your dinner, some holding groceries and some with wrapped packages.

“A friend. What’re these?” Egon didn’t have to turn to you to see the guilty expression you had while he pulled out containers of takeout. You had a bad habit of buying him luxuries he never thought he would need.

You grabbed a few things from one of the sacks, opening his outdated fridge. “I know we agreed to you bringing dinner, but it’s just a few things for when you’re on your own.” He wrinkled his nose.

“I have food.”

Egon watched you teeter your palm back and forth, grabbing another bag and opening one of his cabinets. “What’s the point of eating-out if you never eat-in?”

“You shouldn’t have gone through the trouble.”

He felt nice as you smiled at him, folding the discarded paper and tossing it in the bin. “You know I don’t mind.” It would’ve been a sweet moment, if there wasn’t another bag on the counter that caught his attention, which you scrambled to pull away. Before you could, he brought it to his lap, gazing down inside.

He pulled out different wrapped packages, labels from one of the most expensive department stores in the area. “Y/N.”

You put your hands up in defense, lowering yourself into the stool across from him. “I know, I know. But, look!” You leaned over, showcasing one. “New curtains! And there’s a watch in there, somew-here.”

Egon’s eyes nearly popped out when he found a little box, forgotten at the bottom, with a price tag higher than what two ghostbusters made in a week. “You have to return this,” he decided, hardly opening it before snapping it shut.

“You don’t like it?”

“I do. I appreciate you getting it. But you can’t keep spending your money on me.”

You knelt on your hand, disappointment clearly subsiding as you used the other one to open up the food. “It doesn’t make a difference to me. I was in that area, anyway.”

He passed you a plastic fork. “How come?”

“I had an appointment with my dress guy,” you started. He’d be embarrassed to admit it, but it took him an abnormally long time to realize that you were referring to the people you regularly bought things from, rather than lightly suggesting a polyamorous relationship. “And he showed me the finished product for Friday! Isn’t it exciting?”

You produced a print from your purse, handing it to him with a bright smile. It was a dress on a mannequin- very bold, very you, and very blue. “It is.” Egon grinned sincerely, admiring the idea. “Very beautiful.”

You stabbed your fork into a vegetable, seemingly forlorn as he put the photo aside. “It’s a shame you’ll only get to see it on TV. Unless, you wanna be my date,” you perked.

Egon could feel himself frown. In any other world, he would be at your side every hour of every day- every interview, airing, or red carpet appearance. But he was still Egon, through and through. So you compromised on “waiting until the right time” to make your relationship public.

“Not this time,” he avoided looking at you. You were understanding, you always were, but he could imagine how irritating a constant no could be.

He jumped as your head hit the countertop. “You’ll let everyone know at the wedding,” you groaned. Egon moved to console you, worried about having hurt your feelings, before your head snapped back up.

“Kidding.” He let out a sigh he couldn’t recall holding in. “You wanna be there when I get ready? You could help me with the zipper,” you leaned forward, voice teasing him. He couldn’t refuse.

“Of course,” Egon smiled, before it fell. “I’m sorry. That I keep telling you no.”

You shrugged, waving him off. How undeserving he was, to be loved by someone so forgiving. “I know. You’re an interesting guy, Egon. It’ll happen when it happens.” You had his hand in yours, brushing his knuckles as you looked on at each other earnestly.

Something caught your attention, breaking eye contact, Egon shrinking at the loss of connection. You turned in your seat to the rest of the apartment. “I never told you! I noticed you started decorating!”

It was a small place, only one bedroom and older than most people Egon’s age would be proud of. When he first moved in, the only things he took the liberty of situating were: a bed, a chair, various papers and books and scientific projects. It was more a storage space, rather than one to live in. He dawned on this the first time you offered to have him over, realizing that he’d have to return the favor- after picking up a bit. It’s not much right now, save for more furniture and ambience, but there was always something new whenever you visited. “After you told me it had the feng shui of an asylum.”

“Then we both have something to work on.”

“What was this doing in the mail this morning?” Peter bounded the steps to the second tier of the firehouse. Ray and Winston were trying their best to pick up around the kitchen, while Egon was hunched over his workbench, jittery and unorganized. Whatever he was keeping from them, it did a good job at keeping him from work. This would’ve been a nice change for the doctor, if it didn’t mean Peter had to be alert for any sudden fires.

He passed the booklet to Winston, whose eyes widened like a cartoon as the centerfold unfurled into two more pages. “Holy…”

“Maybe it’s Janine’s?” Ray proposed, cheeks pink as he clumsily folded them back up.

Her voice called up from downstairs, before the front door slammed shut. “I don’t read that brand, and if I did I wouldn’t be working here.”

That left the three men, standing in tense silence. Not Peter, he was tasteful with his filth- tucked away in the hidden part of his filing cabinet.

“Why would one of us order something like this in the mail?”

Peter gently took it from Winston. “Alright, no need to embarrass anyone. My mail is your mail is your mail is my mail.”’ He jumped to a random page, settling into the couch. “We’re all friends here.”

Ray and Winston hesitantly crowded around him, unabashedly eager to view what was inside. Egon, however, was frozen at his desk, lab coat halfway off.

“Donna Rice stuns in a poolside photo…Madonna looks nice here…” The professor was a second away from crumpling. Schadenfreude.

Ray shrugged one of his shoulders, leaning over the armrest. “Some of these aren’t so bad,” he admitted.

Peter let out a low whistle. “Here’s the girl you like so much, Spengs. Orange dress.” Egon rose then, a bit less catatonic as he shrugged his lab coat off, back to his friends.

“She wouldn’t wear orange this season. Or any season. It doesn’t pair well with anything and it washes her out.”

Peter blinked. Not the angle he was looking for, but a good psychologist never quits when they’re ahead. “Did she tell you this?”

Egon visibly hardened, turning to face them. “No. In a 1986 interview with People, in the second paragraph of the 12th page, she said she’d never wear anything long and orange at the same time.”

Peter slowly revealed the page to him, speaking even slower. “Sorry, superfan. She was wearing green.”

The professor only stared, before clearing his throat and fixing his clothes a bit, Ray and Winston silent at Peter’s side as he rolled up the print. “I’m leaving for the night. And I’m taking the car.”

He was halfway out the room before Ray stuttered, taken aback. “I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen you drive, Spengs.”

“And you can’t take the car.” Peter chided

Egon stilled on the staircase. “I have the keys. And there aren’t any jobs in the morning- you can do without it. Goodnight.”

Peter tapped the shiny paper against his palm a few times, turning to the men at his side. “He’s either selling drugs, or he’s trying to ditch us."

Sure, Egon wasn’t much of a driver. But he’d make the commute if he wanted to see you. Eventually, streets lined with skyscrapers and taxis melted into roads lined with starlight and trees as he carefully recalled the directions to your house just outside the city, surrounded by woodlands. He knew you'd wouldn’t be back until late in the night, so he was content busying himself with your chores until the sounds of a Mustang screeching to a halt in your driveway peeled him away from the last dish in the sink.

Egon carefully peeked out one of your windows, watching as you jumped out the backseat of the hastily parked car. “I probably just left a light on! One sec!” Your door handle jiggled with the turn of keys, before you poked your head in, voice low.

“Wanna say hi?”

He politely declined, and you were halfway out the door again, waving goodbye to your friends, before they skidded off into the night. Your home was a stark contrast to his own, decorated and personable without becoming clumsy. But, many a night you’d crooned to him over the phone about how empty it can get. So, there he was.

“You didn’t have to come all this way,” Egon felt you mummer against his back, arms wrapped around his middle while he finished wiping down the edge of the sink, light fragrance mingling with the smell of dish soap. You always smelt good, after a night out.

“I wanted to. Did you have fun?” he inquired, hearing you hum as you peeled yourself from him, lurking towards the stairs.

“As much,” Egon bent behind you to collect your discarded shoes, “as I could have.”

He caught the earrings you pinched off from your earlobes. ‘They didn’t show you a good time?”

You paused in front of your bedroom door, waiting for Egon to open it, which he did. “It was a great time- I love premieres.” You lowered yourself onto the large mattress, calling out to him as he went into the master bathroom to start a bath. “But, I think you know very well why I wanted to come home.”

“I wonder,” he mused chaffingly, sitting behind you on the bed. His favorite night time routine, whenever he was around after you successfully painted the town red. The events and invitations just got bigger and bigger, increasingly extravagant the longer he knew you. Here he was, getting farther and farther over the hill. In spite of it all, he liked taking care of you, especially when you were wearied from an evening of fun.

You leaned forward as he gently unclasped the jewelry from around your neck, careful not to bust the fastener. “I’m happy you’re here now, Egon.” he heard you coo tiredly and softly. Egon pressed a devoted kiss to the nape of your neck where the metal had lay, drawing out a delighted laugh from underneath him.

“Then I’m glad I came.”

Both of you just sat there, warmth against warmth until Egon remembered that your faucet was still running. He took to unzipping the back of your gown. “Is it safe to assume my friends are becoming suspicious of me?”

“Oh yeah? What’re they doing?” you pondered, helping him as you stepped out of the pooling fabric.

“Pictures of you. Peter got a hold of one of your spreads.” Egon mulled. He carefully collected the material, laying it out on a chair in front of your expansive closet. He really appreciated those photographers, any other time. Particularly, when you weren’t available for so long.

Another thing he enjoyed about nights like these- you in your underclothing. Oh, guilty pleasures. But the sight vanished into the bathroom almost as soon as he took it in. “Did you tell them I was your outgoing, witty and expressive girlfriend?”

Egon couldn’t help but follow you. “They seemed to have come to that conclusion on their own.” Egon stood against your sink while you sunk into the water- he knew you were pretty clean, but a washroom floor was still a washroom floor.

“I’m sure you have them fooled.” you guessed, leaning on the edge of the tub.

“I think so. But-” he noticed the look you were giving him. “You’re being sarcastic.”

He let you laugh at his expense, handing you various soaps from the caddy above. He’d been meaning to get a similar bottle to keep at his place, if you were ever willing to spend the night. What would your people say- if you didn’t come around when they were expecting you to? “And you? What do your friends think?” Egon queried.

“They’ve been onto me. And they tell me: ‘bring him around sometime- one night can’t hurt,’” you teased. “There’s a blue suit to go with my dress waiting for you, if you really want.”

Egon felt so defenseless as you gazed up at him, extending the same invitation you’d been extending time and time again. Reservations be damned. The greatest person he knew was letting him spend a night in their arms- and he’d be anything but himself if he let the opportunity slip away again.

“I’ll go.”

“What?”

“On Friday. I’ll go with you. If you’ll have me.”

You beamed, sitting up and leaning impossibly close to him as he let himself kneel against the porcelain. “Oh, Egon! I could kiss you!” Your wet skin dripped onto the dainty rim.

“Why not?” he teased. Before the question could leave his lips, you had the end of his tie in your hand, nearly dragging him into the bath with you.

He could barf. Absolutely lose his cool in the back of this expensive car, or in front of all your famous friends. As happy as Egon was to experience a slice of your life with you, his nerves were on fire. He must’ve seriously underestimated the turnout of this thing- reality settling in as a number of stylists flooded your house as the evening approached. He felt the embrace of your hands on his jaw, as you made him look at you.

“You don’t have to talk to anyone, if you don’t want to. Just keep holding my hand.” You were glowing. “And- you look great. But…something’s missing,” you muttered. He swallowed hard, dreading what he managed to leave behind. He was breathless as you left a quick kiss off the center of his lips, laughing as you parted. “There,” you giggled.

“Mr. Spengler? There’s a call for you.” the hostess told him, peeling him away from the table of A-listers. As he answered the phone by the kitchen, he could recognize a familiar, angry voice.

“Egon Spengler.”

“Hello, Janine.”

The floodgates opened, and he could practically hear her nails digging into the desk. “I could rip your head off. Is that where you go all day? Hanging out with gorgeous celebrities? Why didn’t you tell us? You’re sitting at dinner with Mel Gibson! You should’ve introduced me. Why didn’t you introduce me? I would’ve killed to meet her- if I had met Einstein I would’ve introduced you. What’s next- you’re having tea with Cher? You disappear for weeks at a time, and we have to watch a tiny TV screen to find out you’re at an award show with a red lipstick stain on your face? You-”

“I’m sorry to cut this so short, Janine. But my wonderful girlfriend has an accolade to accept.”

#ghostbusters #ghostbusters 1989 #ghostbusters 1984 #egon spengler #egon spengler/reader #egon spengler x reader #egon/reader #egon x reader #peter venkman #ray stantz #oneshot #fanfic #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3 link #open requests #ask box

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thegalleonsnest · 5 months

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Back on my old man yaoi.

I've been trying to study the more 2D versions of Ping in any hand animated pieces that there are, and work my own style into him.

#Kung Fu Panda #Kung Fu Panda Mr Ping #Kung Fu Panda Li Shan #Li Shan #Mr Ping #kfp fanart #Sketch #digital art #my art #TheGalleonsNest Art

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boredgrace23-gracepotts · 26 days

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Just to publicly air out a silly dream I have: I so SO badly want to be known as that one artist/writer who's known for their lack of shipping in each fandom and build a big, HUGE loyal fanbase I can joke around with, and not only that, but follow me from fandom to fandom, because I know how stuck someone can get when they're known for just a certain ship in a certain fandom.

I know every fandom is very ship-centred, and I mean, I get it; I'm currently in the TF2 fandom, and I understand why people like speeding bullet and red oktoberfest. One is two men trying to understand their feelings, and the other is old man yaoi. I get it. That shit's like sucking on a strawberry milk popsicle on a hot day (hehe). Though I'm also aroace, so I'm oblivious to anything romance-related, and I get tuckered out easily when it comes to that stuff.

But because I don't ship often, I don't get much traction, so I have to draw ship art or I have to insinuate my post is ship art, but when they find out I'm not a shipper, they leave. It kind of saddens me, but what can you do, you know? I'm a non-shipper for those who want a break from the ships.

But I'm so glad for the few fans I do have, even if it's only a handful. I can't be any more grateful for you guys because I have to start from somewhere, y'know?

Alas, so is the life of a non-shipper.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 scout #scout tf2 #sniper tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 medic #medic tf2 #heavy tf2 #tf2 heavy #heavy x medic #sniper x scout #sniperscout #heavymedic #red oktoberfest #speeding bullet

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wrishwrosh · 9 months

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re: tags on labor in historical fiction post, would be very interested to hear what the four examples you mentioned are!!

ok u know what that tag WAS bait, thank you for taking it. technically speaking these aren't works dealing strictly with labor in historical fiction, they are my four treasured examples of BUREAUCRAT FICTION (so not NOT about labor in history?) i was gonna try to make this post pithy and short but then i remembered how extremely passionate i am about this microgenre i made up. so sorry.

bureaucrat fiction is not limited by genre or format but criteria for inclusion are as follows: long and detour-filled story about functionary on the outside of society finding unexpected success within a ponderously large and powerful System/exploring themes of class and physicality and work and autonomy and what it means to hold power over others beneath the heartless crushing wheels of empire/sad little man does paperwork. also typically long as hell. should include at least one scene where the protagonist is unironically applauded-perhaps for the first time in their life-for filling out a form really good. without further ado:

soldier's heart by alex51324. the bureaucracy: british army medical corps during wwi. the bureacrat: mean gay footman/new ramc recruit thomas barrow. YEAH it's a downton abbey fic YEAH it's a masterpiece. i've talked about it before at length, my love has not faded. the crowning moment of bureaucracy is a long interlude where thomas optimizes the hospital laundry (this actually happens twice or maybe three times)

hands of the emperor by victoria goddard. the bureaucracy: crumbling fantasy empire some time after magical apocalypse. the bureacrat: passionate late-career clerk from the hinterlands cliopher mdang. i reread this book every winter bc it is as a warm bath for my SAD-addled brain and every time i neglect all my responsibilities to read all nine billion pages in three days. it puts abt 93% of the worldbuilding momentum into elaborating all of the ministries and secretaries and audits necessary to run a global government and like 7% into the magic and stuff. there are also several charming companion novellas and an equally long sequel that dives more into the central relationship between cliopher and the emperor which i highly recommend if you like gentle old man yaoi and/or magic, but there's more bureaucracy in HOTE.

the cromwell trilogy by hilary mantel. the bureaucracy: court of henry viii. the bureaucrat: thomas cromwell, the real guy. curveball! it's critically acclaimed booker prize winning rpf novel wolf hall! mantel is really interested in particular ways of gaining and maintaining power in delicate and labyrinthine systems like the tudor court, specifically in strongmen who use both physical intimidation and metaphysical manipulation to succeed. under these conditions i do think my best friend long-dead historical personage thomas cromwell counts as Bureaucrat Fiction (as do danton and robespierre in a place of greater safety. bonus rec.)

going postal by terry pratchett. the bureaucracy: fantasy postal service of ankh-morpork. the bureaucrat: conman, scammer, and little freak moist von lipwig. this is definitely shorter and lighter than the other three entries on the list, sort of a screwball take on the bureaucrat. but the mail is such a classic bureaucracy thing? who doesn't love thinking about the mail? also contains a key genre element which is a fraught sexual tension with the person immediately above the protagonist in their hierarchy, who is also their god-king and boyfriend-dad. you can't tell me vetinari isn't torturing moist psychologically AND sexually.

anyway sorry about all this. if you've read any of these come talk to me about them. bureaucrat fiction recs welcomed with the openest possible arms.

#this post was very challenging to write bc i cannot spell the word bureaucracy to save my life. EVERY time i forget where the U goes #long post #asks #bureacracy. beaureaucracy. bereaucracy. fuck french

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oliviascully · 3 months

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Ok here are some thoughts after the IWTV season finale pertaining to Armand/Daniel for all my fellow Devil’s Minion stans.

I have conflicted feelings. It was very exciting to see Daniel turned and know that Armand made him. That being said, it also caught me off guard that this happened so quickly. In both book and show, it is a big deal that Armand has never made a fledgling.

Obviously we didn’t see the turning yet and don’t know the true context, and it is a plot point in the show that now irrevocably ties Armand and Daniel for future development. So in that sense, I am happy.

I just sincerely hope that they are written as having a past relationship after their first meeting in 1973. And not just because I want more DM content or that I’m not happy with a version with old Daniel (full supporter of old man yaoi). I just think it would be a sorely missed opportunity for them not to have past involvement.

Is it interesting for Armand to have met Daniel once in 1973, try to kill him, and then meet him again in 2022, have his relationship ruined by Daniel, and then turn him “out of spite?” Idk, seems weird and not very satisfying.

I know there will be more than that, and I’m over-simplifying things. But I think it would be so sooo much more narratively satisfying for Daniel to loathe Armand and think he has him all figured out only to learn that he loved him once, and that he does know Armand, even more than he thought.

It would be a great arc for Daniel. Him being turned in and of itself is not enough. I want to see his world rocked (lovingly) and realize he’s as much a part of the fucked up, gothic romance as all the others. I want to see Armand have a genuine relationship that challenges and confronts him, and maybe he wasn’t truly ready for it in the past, but he might be now.

Also, I truly can’t believe that all the heated and weirdly charged interactions between Daniel and Armand, even as Rashid, were for nothing and based on nothing. All the glances and fighting/flirting and Armand knowing how “Alice” felt and knowing how to make Daniel’s martinis and why why whyyyy would Daniel feel freer to hold Alice’s hand in Paris????

Anyways this is just my plea of saying that I hope that wasn’t for nothing and that we get to see these two have the weirdest most fucked up and somehow romantic relationship PAST and present not just because it’s canon but because it seems like the groundwork is there in the show, and it would be an amazing storyline to see play out for both characters to develop. And I am so inrigued by the chemistry between Armand and both versions of Daniel. The actors are incredible together, and I genuinely want to see more of both.

#iwtv spoilers #iwtv #interview with the vampire #armand #daniel molloy #armandaniel #devil’s minion #my posts

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veetowervaporwave · 6 months

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Man I am so vanilla when it comes to ships in Hazbin...

Staticmoth: The epitome of toxic old men yaoi. They're just the worst. They push each other's buttons. They both have obsessions on the side but both want to be each other's center of attention. Other people's suffering gets them horny. They got married three times and divorced five times. They know exactly how horrible the other one is but it only makes them more attracted to each other. They're so toxic it's a health hazard for everyone around them. I wish nothing more than for them to die horribly while holding hands.

Chaggie: I've been shipping them since the pilot and I'll be real they were everything I wanted and even more. I always knew that their relationship would be mostly background stuff since they're an established couple, and I was excited to have something where the main character is in a stable and affectionate relationship. I didn't expect them to get a whole little storyarc with the whole angel drama... I'm just. So happy. Seeing them, knowing how much they supported each other over the years when they had no one else on their side, openly working out their issues... They're just everything that's good in the world.

Huskerdust: I feel about it a bit more differently compared to the previous two. I'm happy to see them just do whatever, but Huskerdust stands out because its development is kind of... part of the plot of the show, rather than just being an extra layer to their characters. I'm not even interested in fanfiction for them because I'm too excited to see how it progresses in the actual show.

Radiorose: QPR goals. Alastor having someone he's so comfortable with honestly elevated his character for me. I don't have a lot to say but I enjoy seeing them together immensely.

Appledust: guilty pleasure comfort ship, refer to this post for more context.

Ships I like less under the cut, I try not to be too mean but still, be careful.

Radiostatic (Or, I guess, Onewaybroadcast, rather): I like it a lot but only when it caters to my superspecific tastes. First of all it needs to be one-sided. The second Alastor reciprocates I'm like *Lucifer voice* "Who is this? Who is this man?" Second of all the "hate" part of the "hateboner" is essential (unless we're talking before their falling out). Vox both wants Alastor and wants him dead. It's been swirling inside him for years and had poisoned whatever relationship they had beforehand. There's no turning back from this.

RoyalHalo: I don't know how to explain it, but when I personally ship something "platonically", it's different from just regular shipping and different from having a brotp. Nothing much to say on the ship itself, they're cute.

Cherrisnake: I wish I could like it more but "Meh" is right. I think it has potential, unfortunately 8 episodes a season didn't allow it to develop. I wish we could have had Cherri before ep6 to establish her relationships with Angel and Pentious and I wish they had at least one genuine conversation before the end of the season.

Alastor x Charlie & Alastor x Angel: actually it's not about the ships themselves, just some bad experiences in the early fandom. Ik not all the shippers are like that, especially now when those ships are less popular and a lot of people are vocal about not liking them, but unfortunately I don't think I'll ever be able to enjoy them.

Lute x Vaggie: Nothing to say I just don't like it.

Val x Angel: I put a black line because my knee jerk reflex was to think of people like. Ignoring the abuse, but thinking about it, I do enjoy the exploration of their relationship if it's in-character. It's just not something I personally would consider "shipping". (But then what makes it different from onewaybroadcast? Guess I'm just a hypocrite or something)

"Found family" is a term that's used very differently by different people in the fandom, which is a little confusing to me, so I changed this category to "maybe".

Alastor x Husk: Much like the previous one, except I trust people with it even less after all the victimblaming Husk got after ep5.

Velvette x Vox and/or Velvette x Valentino: I don't ship those personally just for the reason that Vel genuinely seems uninterested, but I support the people who do. Especially the polyvees shipping. There's also additional element to this for me personally is that if Val and Vox were an item, there's a fear that Vel would come off as a third wheel or be pushed to the side, and if they were all together this wouldn't happen. So I have no choice but to support, even if I myself can't get into it.

Guitarspear: Lute ripping off her arm to go help Adam... The last thing Adam does before death is smile at her... God. They were also very fun hypemen for each other during songs, and just the general dynamic was really funny. I would say I like this ship when I see it, but I won't go out of my way to look for it?

Carmilla x Zestial: They're friends... The fanart is nice to look at. It's fine.

Radioapple: I'm conflicted. I guess I am kinda interested in what their relationship would be like in the show, but in fanworks I mostly enjoy the "they aren't actually attracted to each other but everyone thinks they are" dynamic. It's funny.

Pentious x Emily: Ok, one (1) crackship. My friend ships them and I kinda see the vision? Could be cute.

#.ramblings #idk how to best tag it... i guess I'll tag the ships I put above the cut lol #hazbin hotel #staticmoth #chaggie #huskerdust #radiorose #appledust

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madamekaji · 8 months

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— Does Heiji Shindo hate Abijah Fowler?

Yappathon incoming… Fowdo posting, unsurprising, but mostly focusing on my view of Heiji’s character and “feelings.”

CW • Old man yaoi /j

Then why would he betray him? Why would he attempt to scheme behind his back, and plot his murder? Does this not scream hatred?

No. Rather, I believe it screams survival. I believe it was, in Heiji’s mind, the smartest move to play to ensure that he ended up on top. Though, let’s start from the beginning.

They live together in an oddly culturally blended home for 1600s Japan. And while Fowler has to remain in this castle, as it is- in his words, “his cage”- Heiji is by no means held to this same standard. He can come and go as he pleases, and yet he has his very own furnishings in the castle of the man he claims to despise.

When does this point of contempt get mentioned first, anyways? It is during the tea party with Mizu in 01x03. And why is it mentioned? Once again, survival. It is worth noting that rather than being upfront with such a proposition, he tries to manipulate Mizu out of hunting him- And Fowler- down with bribes of great wealth and a strong title. Though, when this offer does not work- as I am sure he had hoped it would- he is then forced to come up with another plan. And what better way than to play off of then someone’s feelings?

Mizu hates Fowler, this much is obvious. Heiji is trapped down in a canyon with two well trained and skilled fighters, and while he does have archers hidden in the cliff face around them, there is surely no way that they can fire their arrows without either him being killed before they even get the chance, or him being killed by the barrage of arrows from above. He realizes that he can’t influence this impending storm with commerce, so he instead chooses the next best thing, and attempts to align himself with Mizu, believing that this would earn him her favor.

Once inquired why he wants Fowler dead, his response is that it is personal. And once further inquired, he states that his reasons are his own. Then, there is a pause; and after the pause, he contradicts his original statement by saying “no.. no, they’re not.” Every one of his reasons for “hating” Abijah are vague in nature and enunciated with far too much drama, as if he is trying to convince Mizu that he was being truthful. While I would never expect someone such as Heiji to pour his heart and soul out to… Anyone, it is interesting to note that he can’t seem to come up with any real reason as to wishing him killed.

His promises are flimsy. He can’t commit to the idea of genuinely helping Mizu, and it’s apparent. Once questioned by Taigen about what would happen once Mizu kills Fowler, all Heiji can muster is that he can guarantee “her safety to a blades length of Fowler’s neck.” He wipes his hands together indicate that business is done, before walking away. It is notable, that from Taigen inquiring on, Heiji begins to become more agitated; indicating that he most likely never intended for Mizu to leave the castle. If he even would somehow slip Mizu through all 8 levels of security to get to where Fowler was, I do truly believe Heiji expected Fowler to kill her. However, he needs her to believe that he is on her side; because if she doesn’t, it very well could be his head.

Maybe if he had stuck with his original statement- “My reasons are my own”- it could have been believable. Maybe, if Mizu had not approached him and asked the question that essentially sealed his fate, things could have worked out for him. Maybe, if he didn’t continue to wear the flower Abijah had pinned oh so lovingly to his robe, his lie wouldn’t have been so obviously seen though.

If Heiji truly hated Abijah he wouldn’t be living in his castle, wearing his flowers, eating at his dining table and having any level of faith in his overarching plans. If Heiji hated Abijah, surely his lip would curl upon being so up close and personal with “That Stink.” If Heiji hated Abijah, surely some level of distaste for his explosive tantrums and overtly offensive.. Everything, would put him off. Heiji has not been shy to complain, to express agitation and distaste. Surely, if he truthfully hated Abijah, he wouldn’t have put himself on the line for something that- ultimately- had nothing to do with him. He didn’t hate Abijah, and it cost him his arm. It almost costed him his life.

So now we ask the question again. Why does Heiji betray Abijah?

Understandably, his faith in Abijah is flimsy. Nothing about a human trafficking murderous drug lord with a sick kick for sadomasochistic tendencies screams trustworthy. Though while he was not off put by the things he should have been- if anything, probably finding solidarity with it- he was rattled by the fact that his relationship with this man had nearly killed him. And while I definitely think the illusion of being untouchable shattering right in front of him was the final straw, It is worth looking at who Heiji is as a person.

He is self serving, weasly, charismatic, cunning and a complete and total control freak. And while he isn’t as obvious about it as Fowler is, it is displayed multiple times in the show. When he feels as if he is not being listened to, he responds explosively, and being foolish enough to grab the arm of an armed stranger while trying to force them into a barrel is a pretty good example of how reason is lost whenever he begins to panic.

Fowler is not ideal or trustworthy. And while he is.. Fond of him, so to speak, he doesn’t mean much more to him other than an avenue to success, with bonus perks like flattering attention.

Now this is where we start to get into speculation.

Heiji is dependent on Abijah for success, to attain his goal. Without his European asset smuggling in trump cards, there would be no way to overthrow the shogunate; at least nothing someone like Heiji could string together on his own. Abijah, for years, made him richer than imaginable and essentially promised him the world and more. And Heiji lived lavishly in luxury and comfort, anxiously anticipating his future role as the Shogun. Though why would he ever put all of his faith into a man who thinks just as he does?

I think Heiji believed that their relationship was only a transactional one (in a way he is most definitely right) and that Abijah saw him just as he saw Abijah: an Asset. Why would such a domineering and controlling man ever share such power? He’s a remorseless killer, Heiji has seen what he is capable of. He never truly knows if he’s safe with Fowler because he is incapable of trusting him, and that is safest. For him, it was kill or be killed. And the closer to their metaphorical D-Day, the more this realization dawns on Heiji. Their time together is running up.

But even if Fowler didn’t kill Heiji when his usefulness expired, surely someone would. To have a foreigner in such a position of power would be certain to cause revolts, and their siege of the shogunate would surely inspire many. Even if he didn’t die in some coup, his connection with such a controversial face would surely put a target on his back. So with the combination of (fair) paranoia and of being scorned, as well as a lack of any real emotional connection in the first place, it would be easy to turn on him so quickly.

Then why would he want to kill him? He specifies in his letter to Chiba that he would have the pleasure of killing Fowler himself.

Personally, I think it is because he believes that he is the only one who should be able to. Their relationship, however you wish to view it, runs deep and is as personal as someone with the emotional capacity of a grape can get. They have been up each other’s asses for AT LEAST ten years, possibly longer. Heiji is just as sadistic as Fowler is, and watching the life drain from those green eyes is probably something he has fantasized of for a long time. No one else deserves such a privilege other them him.

Does Heiji Love Abijah? No, he’s incapable. But does he hate him? No. Abijah is a means to an end. An interesting and attractive (to him) means to an end, an entertaining one, but at the end of it all he was just a chance that Heiji took to actually become something more then what he was, a pathetic salesman.

Unfortunately for him, he got to learn the hard way that he was never the one in control. Fortunately (?) for him, Abijah decided to give him another chance. And Heiji learned very quickly to not make a mistake like that again.

#blue eye samurai #fowdo #heiji shindo #abijah fowler #long post #i dont know what to call this #theory #(????)#headcanon #(?¿?¿?)

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skylark325 · 2 months

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Omniscient Readers View Point Read Through

Ch 53-73

Beginning: Ch 1-10

They knew the prophets would gather here and decided to use this opportunity to wipe out those who stopped reading early.

>thats… dark

[The constellation 'Abyssal Black Flame Dragon' is looking at the black flame dragon.]

>…dude stop looking at his black flame dragon

"I really thought you were dead!" "But I survived."

> sigh

"In some cases, people need to be killed…" "Don't worry. I'll kill them for you."

>i need a Heewon in my life 😭

The head rolling like a toy was covered with a cloak with '1' on it. It was the 1st Apostle.

>HSY MY LOVE

You have to hold hands with me to defeat Anna Croft and the Zarathustra!"

'I am different! Yoo Joonghyuk, hold hands with me.

>hsy REALLY wants to hold yjh’s hand huh

"He was a mouthy bastard."

>GASP Joonghyuk LANGUAGE

This jerk, he must think he was so cool. …Honestly, he was a bit cool.

>Dokja you fucking simp he just squashed a head like it was grape

"Then try it. Is your sword faster or my tongue faster?"

>kinky

"Writing is so difficult… writers are great…"

>couldn’t agree more

>the way the story distinguishes between characters and ‘real’ people is so interesting. And kind of tragic when you’re the only one who will likely stay aware until the end

The quality was so bad that if it was serialized in Textpia, it would've bombed. But that didn't matter right now.

>lmao this is why y’all need ao3

–I see. I feel an unknown wall with hyung. I can't explain it well but I like the feeling.

>like…the fourth wall or a tsundere wall?

He says that any beautiful or handsome man and woman will become concubines, while any ugly people will be killed or become slaves."

Jung Heewon frowned. "If Dokja-ssi is caught, you will become a slave."

>Lmao i adore their friendship

The character and I needed to be thinking about each other at the same time.

>does that mean yjh was thinking about kdj back when kdj was using the skill to be in his body?

…that sounds wrong

anyways

"Yoo Sangah-ssi. You will be disruptive if you keep acting like this."

>Oof why did that hurt me

>ok see this is what i meant in my post about kdj’s difference when describing the other characters and when describing yjh. he’s literally talking the king of beauty that leaves everyone spellbound and the best he could manage was ‘outstanding beauty but not his type’ and ‘objectively as beautiful as Sangah’? dokja you gay ass

However, the future that Lee Sungkook knew was only near the prologue. The evolution of the current scenario surpassed the information he knew.

>how long was that prologue for this guy to have his memories till CHAPTER 62?

[The character 'Min Jiwon' shows a weak liking towards you.]

…All my thoughts collapsed at this absurd message.

>honestly relatable

[…There is a lingering attachment, please understand.]

"Gyebaek, let's meet in the next world."

>what is this old man yaoi.

"…Won't it happen one day? If I give birth to a child, I will surely tell them what happened today."

>is…is dokja embracing the mpreg

What was this? I looked up and found that my limbs were tied up with magic power. It was a chrysalis-like appearance. Yoo Sangah's face was completely red.

> …right. Not gonna ask what’s currently going through Sangah’s head.

Everyone is the book is either kinky or gay like damn

[The character 'Cha Sangkyung' has discovered that you are a demonic enemy that shouldn't be touched.]

>Damn the foreshadowing

"Oh, I haven't introduced myself yet. I am Han Sooyoung. I am Cha Sangkyung's assistant."

>MY GIRL BOSS IS HERE

"There is someone. Someone is killing the kings!"

>my little murderous bean i missed you

A furious voice rang through the battlefield.

"Kim Dokja…"

I smiled and waved towards him. A large black flag flew behind the person heading towards me.

"You came…"

>adorable

"…Kim Dokja!"

Yoo Joonghyuk was chasing after me at a scary speed.

>YJH: i just had such a cool entry, PAY ATTENTION TO ME

> yjh really loves saying kdj’s name huh going KIM DOKJA! every three sentences

>god the little sister is just as grumpy as her brother

It was because there wasn't any king in Seoul who had more coins than me right now.

>kdj: you may be op but you forgot the power of INVESTMENT MUHAHAHAHA

The flying Yoo Joonghyuk hit a barrier, bounced in the opposite direction and hit another barrier and landed on the ground after repeating this ping-pong action five or six times.

>I…dokja what the fuck 💀

———

Next- Ch 73-92

Prev: Ch 32-52

Beginning: Ch 1-10

#kim dokja #omniscient reader's viewpoint #orv read through #the orv reading experience #orv #omniscent reader #yoo joonghyuk #orv kdj #joongdok #yoo junghyuk #orv kim dokja

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lesbianjobutupaki · 8 months

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Art practice by trying some other artist's styles that I'm a huge fan of!

From Top Left to Bottom Right:

@ghostishere0 - the original reason I started this doodle, as I wanted to draw a "shepherd lovers squad" and their OC (who I don't know the name of F) was the perfect fit for it.

@luminesparkz - the best interpretation of Pom pikmin. If I were Mr. Nitendo, I would make them the official comic creator along with the manga comics.

@marblyso - If I was a little more unhinged and made a shrine to Erma Shepherd, it would be mostly marblyso's art of her, it's my absolute favorite Erma depiction <3

@rexscanonwife - another OC that I don't know the name of, but she makes such a cute pair with Shepherd and has such cute art that why not, let Shepherd have multiple canon wives at this point.

@citruscrisp - I think this is secretly Alph in an alternate universe where he makes comics about himself, because citrus has Alph's character SPOT ON, and also loves to put that boy in a situation (which I am happy for, I enjoy seeing that boy in a situation)

@daisythecomic - oooaaaaaaaaaa they look like little mice people they look so soft and sweet I love them so muuuuuuuuuccchhhhhhhhh

@louie-posting - I can't not include actual Louie Pikmin on this list.

@kiwilittle - the soft, the sweet, the one who makes the best family style art, really making me wish I was an inch tall so I could go to holidays with the olimar family, also their wife design is so cute that if Olimar didn't already get it I would shoot my shot for her m a a m

@pikbugz - really nails the soft aesthetic that makes pikmin such a calming series, and their coloring style is so soft and good that it gives me the ratatouille nostalgia flashback moment.

@splitster - more than just the wraith au guy, they are the one who makes incredible and funny comics; I've seen so many fics with the rescue corps where I can pick up that yes, this trait came from a splitster comic, and that's a GOOD thing. Made me actually LIKE Dingo, the nerve.

@diesaur - I can't do diesaur's incredible, unique art justice, they are amazing at using geometrics and have the best charlie (his little teefs...)

@solluxander - Cars, one of my favorite pikmin Ocs I've ever seen! Collin deserves a slightly unhinged sentient fluffball boyfriend, and I always love seeing the new ways Cars will interact with him.

@sillypikmin - all hail the best pikposter, who I'm still convinced is an actual leafling living on actual pnf-404, literally every time I have a bad day I look at drawings of Moss and feel better.

@eggpathy - thank goodness they came back to give us old man yaoi. I keep their drawing of olimar kissing the pikmin good night on my phone and look at it before I go to sleep and so far I have yet to have a single nightmare.

@the-knife-consumer - the only person I trust with Louittany, toxic yuri my beloved, I just adore their beasty brittany design so so much, I wish I could have a small brittany to live in my house...

anyway they have the best headcanons for our beloved blorbo hamster people

@natibranch - there's a voice line of Louie going "wa-ha!" in this really cute sing-song voice and every time I see any art by natibranch I hear that sound in my head as a little burst of serotonin, they just nail that exact feeling so so well.

@pikked-min - Another of my favorite Pikmin OCs, Yuva! A really interesting and unique character concept with a lot of thought put into the worldbuilding, followed by a strong unusual personality that had me looking at the pikmin world through a new perspective entirely. Please, someone, give them some sunglasses. Read the fic it's so good

@ssserf - artistic and deep while still somehow looking like official nintendo tm art, genuinely the best at the pikmin proportions, how could I resist trying my hand at the classic amazing beautiful Brittany Fruit Sweater moment, literally SO iconic

@kashi-pon - while I was working on the part of this that was just kashi's various highlife dresses there was a part of me that wanted to dedicate the rest of the space to paying homage to the joke comic of Louie lifting his skirt to show Olimar that he's wearing shorts, except this dress....well......

@diamondwerewolf - the reason we got louie in a little bunny outfit anyway, and thus why we got kashi's dress version. you single-handedly turned Louie into a tumblr sexyman, how could you

#pikmin #pikmin art #pikmin artists #pikmin 2 #pikmin 4 #pikmin 3 #my art

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bloodlessbelmounte · 1 month

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Eternity Will Bring You Near - Chapter 1

Masterlist

Summary:

Wade understood that Logan was from a world where Alpha, Beta and Omega were everyday terms, not exclusive to red-pilled incel fuckheads who kept inventing new performative male genders. Wade would've been classified as a Beta. Logan, however, was an Alpha - Wade's read enough fanfiction and yaoi manga to know what that means. Though it doesn't explain why Logan keeps sniffing him.

Pairing: Alpha!Worst Wolverine/Deadpool

Genre: A/B/O, Smut, Domestic-ish

Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, Blood, Mild Gore/Body Horror, Masturbation, Additional warnings to be added as more chapters are uploaded.

Beginning Note: This was originally meant to be a crackfic but the bitch decided to become a multichapter project instead. I never thought I would get brain rot this severe over a movie of all things. The toxic old man yaoi really is a hell of a drug.

Cross posted to AO3

Heya kiddos- well actually no I hope you’re not kiddos. The following events aren’t exactly G-rated. Scratch that, not G-rated in the slightest. See the author’s girlfriend asked them if they had written anything gay before because and I quote “You’re the type of person I imagine would – you are very gay” and was very surprised to find her partner had, in fact, not written gay porn for a rabid audience (though they once wrote reader insert smut for one of the most rabid fan-bases – BTS anyone?). Lucky for her, the author’s autistic ass is currently hyper-fixated on my movie and has watched it twice. Now I know what you’re thinking: another re-imagining of the icon and highly erotic Honda Odyssey scene that the Tumblr girlies are going feral over? Sadly no, there are over a hundred-and-sixty interpretations of that situationship on AO3 already and the author is not up to that task. Self-conscious and insecure fuckface they are. Oh b-t-dubs, this will have mixed perspectives. So without further ado, let’s fucking do this. Maximum effort.

Deadpool didn’t imagine his epic team-up with his hero of heroes to end this way. With his noble self-sacrifice, blue anti-matter coiled around his wrist, coursing through his veins and dismantling him atom by atom and him helplessly reaching for the matter contained on the other side of this fucking bridge. No, to be honest, he imagined it ending with maybe a few drinks in a bar to celebrate victory before trying to convince Wolverine to hate fuck him. When have things ever gone his way?

You will never save the world. Ya couldn’t even save a relationship with a god damn stripper.

“Not now, flashbacks.”

Grunts of effort and pain as he was on the verge of dislocating his shoulder to just fucking reach the other fucking side. He had to save them. Give Peanut the restart he deserved. Give this world the hero it deserved. Madonna’s ‘Like a Prayer’ was ringing through his ears as he knew he needed a miracle. And just like a prayer answered, Wolverine was right there with him, gripping tightly to his reaching hand and bridging the gap. He had a few precious seconds to appreciate the washboard glistening abs that were explosively -gloriously- exposed to his greedy eyes before Madonna and the pain crescendoed. Oh, what he would’ve done to at the very least get a bit of frottage from that meal of a man. Deadpool and Wolverine’s shouts of agony as energy tore through them intermingled, part of the chorus only he could hear.

White. Everything was white. Burning hot and blinding. Then there was…

Nothing. No pain. No heat. Just weightlessness.

Until his body collided with a wall with a thunk and sprawled onto the ground. He couldn’t get up immediately, his healing factor working overtime to patch up the spider webbing network of atomised damage. Once the pain was tolerable enough, Deadpool stumbled up to his feet with gritted teeth. What did people say? Pain lets you know you are still alive. Well, he was definitely alive then. The smoke and debris in the air made it hard to breathe let alone see through his mask, that wouldn’t do. Ripping the miraculously intact material off, Wade idly wondered why his clothes were fine. Did the universe decide he was too much of an eyesore to strip? Or more logically, Logan’s metal skeleton made him more conductive. Shit.

Wade scanned the destroyed room, trying to catch a glimpse of neon yellow. Panic seeped in when he couldn’t immediately spot the older mutant. Please don’t be vaporised.

“Wolvie? Peanut?!”

A groan came from across the other side of the wreckage. Groaning was good. Groaning – in this case – meant pain or annoyance, which meant functional nervous system. Good. Good. Now, how to get across. Bridge is out of the question, it’s royally fucked. Which left clambering over crumbled walls that blocked the walkways. Goal set, Wade navigated his way over to roughly where he heard the groan emanate from, muscles protesting the whole time. Bright yellow peaked out from underneath the rubble. Logan’s knee to be precise. Wade sighed.

“Maximum effort.”

Wade got to work, moving aside the bricks that had landed on top of his partner, revealing a barely lucid Wolverine and- Holy shit. Big fuck off piece of metal shelving right through the stomach. Wade was pretty sure the only reason Logan wasn’t bisected was because of those metal bones of his.

“Take a deep breath, Honey Badger, this is going to hurt worse than the reviews for the Borderlands movie. Can you believe they’ve gotten a nine percent critics score on Rotten Tomatoes while we have a seventy-eight? They weren’t too happy about all the rectal stabbings. Have they not heard of queer allegory? Though we’re ninety-five from audiences. Must be all the sexual tension between us.”

As Wade was prattling on – partly running his mouth as always and partly to distract Logan – he unsheathed his katanas and slotted them into the wound and wiggled them under the metal.

“The fuck are y’doing, Bub?” Logan seethed through gritted teeth, trying to sit up only to be pushed back down again by the merc.

See Wade wasn’t always an idiot- “Hey I take offence to that.” -but he could have a smart idea every once in a while, such as now. Knowing that he did not possess the strength to pull out - “My pull-out game is strong I’ll have you know.” - the sheet of metal, a proper application of force would allow him to lever it out. Taking turns with what katana he pushed down on, he eventually worked the shelf out far enough for him to straddle the other man’s lap and rip it out the rest of the way with a wet squelch. Next to come out were his beloved weapons which he wiped in his elbow crease then re-sheathed.

Immediately Logan’s thatched lickable abs started to knit themselves back together. And Wade couldn’t stop his hands from wandering; tracing up his chest and neck to grab those blowjob handles, lean down, and finally kiss the crotchety old fuck like he’d been dying to for the past seventy-two hours. Because in for a penny in for a pound, who knows if he’d see him again when all is said and done. Logan went stiff beneath him and Wade froze in place, knowing in his bones that he was going to get pushed off. But then Logan relaxes and his arms wrap around Wade’s waist to pull him closer, his tongue sweeps across the seem of scarred lips asking for entry. Which is enthusiastically granted. Blood and iron assaults Wade’s taste buds as teeth knock and tongues dance. Of course, being over two hundred would make Wolvie a great kisser, the man wasn’t contractually allowed a flaw under Disney. As much as Wade would have loved to carry on sloppily making out and maybe slip his hand down what remains of Logan’s suit, he knew that even though he wouldn’t mind beating the crap out of a bureaucrat with a raging hard-on, the man beneath him probably would. And so semi-reluctantly Wade broke away with a sigh, Logan’s hands shifting to lightly grasp his hips.

“We should show that motherfucker upstairs just how alive we are.”

Of course, you gays, gals, and non-binary pals know what happens after that. We march our asses up to those pencil pushers resulting in two iconic lines – one of which is an Oscar-worthy delivery of my favourite word. There were some extreme levels of sexual tension between B-15 and Peter, Logan and I regenerate my timeline meaning my plan fucking worked and Logan got to stay here. We also got a fat stack of compensation each for our efforts. Now we cut to shawarma and see things from a grumpy puppy’s perspective.

Logan knew to expect some differences between this universe and his original such as there still being living X-men. And he knew that there was the fundamental difference of a lack of secondary sexes here but the distinct absence of pheromones everywhere made the air here seem… cleaner? Almost overwhelming in its purity. The scent of pollution, of food being prepared, of dog piss on the pavement undiluted. No Alphas peacocking. No Omegas trying to suppress and get by. Just “average” people living average lives. Like what was happening in front of him.

Logan, with arms crossed over and leaning against a wall, watched in amusement (not that he’d ever admit to it) as Wade went to place his order at the shawarma place he had led him to.

“I’ll have one beedo beedo, a chocobo supreme, and a mountain boo bah. What would you like Honey Badger?” Wade asked his elbow on the counter top, head resting on his hand as his body was turned to face his partner, ignoring how the server was looking at him like he’d grown three heads.

“Sir, this is a shawarma joint, we only do shawarma here. I have no idea what a beedo beedo is-” The kid behind the counter tried to inform the ADHD-riddled regenerator only to be met with a finger over his lips as he was promptly shushed.

“We do the talking sweetums, you just be a little patient. Wolvie? Anything in mind?”

Some rest would be a good start, then a shower and bottle of whiskey. An explanation on that kiss back there. But food was a good start.

“Ignore his ramblings, he’s had multiple head injuries over the last few days. We’ll have two beef and one chicken, all the salad. Obviously tarator sauce in the beef and toum in the chicken. As for drinks, give us whatever beer y’d recommend.” Logan noticed Wade’s jaw drop out the corner of his eye as he rattled off a proper order. The kid behind the counter pushed the finger on his lips away and nodded, inputting the order and printing off the details to pass to the cook. “What? Did y’think I’d never had this before?”

Wade blinked at him, “Well… uh… to be honest yeah. Didn’t take you for the adventurist foodie type.”

“Need I remind y’of just how old I am, Bub? I was around when immigrants introduced this to the country.”

“Oh, so you’re the original trendsetter for your universe. Speaking of, I’ve seen the fanfictions and read the yaoi, did your world have fated pairs and heat cycles? Do male Omegas just have a dick and ass or do they have a vagina too? Or did they just have a vagina? Did you have to take suppressors for your ‘Alpha Ruts’ to reign in your primal instincts?” Wade’s eyes shone with curiosity as he fired off questions, “Oh are we going to have to deal with those now that you’re in residence here? Maybe I should ask that TVA lady to get you like an inter-dimensional prescription.”

Logan sighed and rubbed his face, he had been expecting this line of questioning. Honestly, he had expected them to occur in the Void after Wade got offended for being called a beta-

“What in the Andrew Taint bullshit is that? They have toxic masculinity red-pillers in your world too? And you’re one of them? For shame Logi Bear. That’s why you’re the Worst Wolverine.”

-and the subsequent misunderstanding was cleared up. At least in the Void, there were fewer witnesses.

“In order: Yes to both. Dick and Ass. Yes, it’s a pain to get by without them or a partner. And that’s all I’m telling y’because it doesn’t affect you.”

“That’s no fun. I need the juicy deets,” Suddenly Wade gasped and pointed at him, “Do you knot?! Bite on the nape of the neck? Oh, I think I might just pop a chub at this rate.”

Logan growled standing straight and emitting his pheromones on instinct, “Enough. As I said it doesn’t affect y’so y’don’t need to know.”

Silence. Finally silence. And the faintest smell of something sweet.

“Order up.”

Logan took his two beef and handed the chicken to Wade alongside a beer, his own stuffed into a jacket pocket. They sat outside the shop in silence and in the time it took for Logan to wolf down one and a half of his order, Wade had only finished half before he started talking again.

“You know, the Avengers discovered shawarma in the sacred timeline.” He said, mouth still full.

Logan glanced over at him, “They’d be lucky to have y’.”

Wade had a considering look in his eye as paused chewing then nodded. The guy still probably had his insecurities and self-doubt that Logan definitely exacerbated in the Honda. Just as they were about to take another bite, barking and the sound of scampering paws were heading right at the pair. It was that fucking dog.

“Oh~”

“Come on,” Logan groaned, head falling back.

“Fuck!” Wade threw his half-eaten wrap on the ground and began the daintiest clap Logan had ever seen done by someone other than a white girl, “Come over here my little munchkin! Yes, it’s you~. You’re a survivor.” Wade picked up the ugly little thing, squeezing her tight and kissing her on the head. “Oh, all is right in the world. Yes, it is.” Wade turned to him, eyeing him up and down, “So what are you going to do next?”

Logan shrugged, “I’ll figure it out. I always do.”

“That right? I’ll probably see you around,” A small smile was playing on his lips as he continued to gauge his response.

An impulsive thought wormed its way into his head, before he knew it he found himself quirking an eyebrow at the merc and proceeded to lie.

“Probably not. See y’, Bub.”

With that, he stood up and walked away as Wade continued to pet Dogpool. He threw the remains of his meal onto a table. A waste really. But all part of the plan. His pace was slow and measured, he was waiting. And when he heard the call of:

“Logan!”

He stopped, a small smile unable to be contained as Wade finally called him by his name. Not one of those childish nicknames. This had been what he was waiting to hear. He turned to face Wade, his expression schooled into a neutral facade.

“Stay with me- us.” Wade offered, pointing between himself and the dog.

Logan walked back over to him, “I thought y’shared a one-bedroom apartment with a lovely blind woman named Althea. Doesn’t sound like y’have much room for me.” Not much room in the apartment or his life. He wasn’t part of Wade’s world.

“There’s always room for one more. We have a pull-out sofa you can use. Not much privacy but it’s home. I only share a bed with Blind Al because I’ve been incredibly touch-starved since the breakup and need my bedtime cuddles.”

Logan huffed a chuckled, “That’s why I had to tie y’up, Bub.” A lie. In reality he had been planning to abandon Wade in that car. “Well, I’m not one to turn down a free roof over my head until I can sort out something more permanent.”

Before he knew it, he was following Wade to his home which was a lot closer to the TVA base and, subsequently, the shawarma shop than he had expected. Just down the street really. Meeting Al was sweet, it almost felt like being introduced to a parent back when he was a young man. And much like a mother, she swiftly turned in ire to Wade and slapped him on the arm with such precision Logan almost doubted her disability.

“Wade W. Wilson, you disappear after blowing out your birthday candles only to return with havoc in the streets and a man on your arm. You could have told us you were dating again. Peter was worried sick about you.”

It had been his birthday? The merc had spent his birthday trying to save his friends -his world – and was rewarded with a thorough verbal dressing down and a night of carnage in a car.

“Oh well, you know, it was the usual. I got abducted, told our universe was dying because someone had to go and nobly sacrifice themselves for the next generation of mutants. So then I hopped through multiple universes to find me a Wolverine who wouldn’t stab me on sight. Found this fella right here and got sent to the universal (not the studio) trash heap. Where I then proceeded to get my brain finger fucked by a bald long-nail-bedded bitch. Seriously they began at like her knuckle. Props to the costume department for that mildly disturbing detail.” Al’s inability to see didn’t stop Wade’s wild gesticulations as he described the events that happened to him. “And after a daring escape from her clutches, I had the best birthday car romp in a while. Became a real pin cushion for ‘im.” Wade sent Logan a wink.

Logan cleared his throat and avoided eye contact, a slight heat taking root in his ear at the implication behind those words. Al gagged.

“Wade, what I’m about to say is without a hint of homophobia: I don’t need to hear any more about your repulsive sex life. It’s bad enough I can hear you choking the chicken in the bathroom.”

Wade was laughing to himself as he meandered away from his now two room-mates and it was only slightly awkward until he returned with sweatpants and a tank top in hand. He shoved them into Logan’s chest along with a towel.

“Shower is through that door there,” He pointed to his right, “You reek of alcohol, blood, and Marvel H Christ knows what else. I doubt I smell much better – not like the Void had personal hygiene products lying around – but your odour can only be described as one of my twenty-eighteen suicide attempts from the second movie before I rewrote the events that triggered that spiral.” Wade looked off to the side, “You readers know which one I’m on about.” He mimicked an explosion sound as he ballooned his hands apart.

Logan was taken aback for a moment, processing that the seemingly always chipper buffoon had tried to kill himself at some point. However, he decided against acknowledging the trauma dump by just grunting his thanks. He took the offered clothes and beelined for the bathroom.

Alright fuck-os let’s focus on me again.

Shut up, Wade. I’m trying to write here.

Oh sure you are. I saw you reading other fanfics and some of my comic runs. And aren’t you on vacation now? I didn’t say you could take a break.

Sigh. Anyway…

Wade placed Mary Puppins on the floor and then immediately flopped onto the sofa, energy levels depleted and a deep set ache in his muscles. He waited for the sound of the shower starting before speaking.

“We’re not dating.”

“Not yet,” Al responded, somehow managing to give him a pointed look despite a) being blind and b) wearing sunglasses so he couldn’t see her eyes.

“The man hates me. Stabbed me many times on many occasions – not that I didn’t enjoy it.” Wade grumbled, sinking further into his seat.

“So why is he here?”

“He had nowhere else to go. I couldn’t just let him wander the streets after I abducted him. Not after he saved me.”

“So Vanessa announces she has a new boyfriend after you’ve been separated for two years and you went and kidnapped one for yourself. That’s a new kind of fucked up, even for you Wade.”

“Yeah I know, I’m a bigger fuck up than Ryan Reynolds accepting that Green Lantern role. I don’t need reminding. Again, we’re not dating. Manage to get your hands on some White Girl Interrupted while Feige’s attention was on the Void?”

“You might not be but you like him. You haven’t introduced someone to me like that since Vanessa. I still don’t know who the fuck Feige is but yes I did.”

“Good because I need some right now. I’m guessing you’ve put it in your sex toy drawer in an attempt to deter me but Al you always fail to remember very little disgusts me.”

Wade slapped his lap as he got up, signalling the end of the conversation. He went back to the bedroom and immediately opened the aforementioned drawer, sticking his hand in he rifled through dildos and vibrators of various shapes and sizes until he found a rectangular packet. Bingo. Oh, he was so going to build a snowman. Oh wait, this is fanfiction, not a movie, Feige has no control here. Wade can just say cocaine.

You guys are going to have to use your imagination here because the author doesn’t know how to write cocaine usage because they’re a pure little munchkin who only ever smoked weed like five times and sniffed poppers once.

Hey stop interrupting or I’ll make this a T rating.

Suitably buzzed and the throbbing ache of his muscles dulled, Wade grabbed a towel and a set of PJ’s to change into after his turn in the shower. His timing was seemingly perfect as he entered the living area just as Logan stepped out of the bathroom towelling his hair roughly, a steam plume framing him in a haze with the lighting hitting just right. The clothes lent to him a tight fit as they clung to the man’s muscular frame, hugging spots that weren’t completely dry yet. Dear lord, was that a dick print? Look at the size of that thing! He needed to French kiss whoever invented grey sweats. Whoever they are or were, he hoped they were getting laid six ways to Sunday. Wade found himself thanking whatever foresight he had since the white tank went near translucent in places like the dips of Logan’s abs and the swell of his pecs. He quickly wiped away the drool on the corner of his lips.

“Nice milk cans you got there, Wolvie. Hope you didn’t use up all the hot water,” Wade commented, eyes still roving over the other’s effortlessly erotic form. That’s the World’s Sexiest Man 2008 for you.

Logan slung the towel around his shoulders, a flush to his cheeks – from heat, Wade’s comment, or ogling who knows – as he seemingly took a moment to study the merc’s face.

“Is… Is that cocaine in y’nose? Y’pupils are dilated. Are y’high?” Logan scoffed in response, eyebrows pinched together.

Wade wiped his nose, “Did you know your pupils can dilate as much as fifty-five percent when you look at something or someone you love? Because I’m loving what a feast for my eyes you are.” He approached the grouchy man and rubbed a thumb between his eyebrows, which was swiftly slapped away with a grumble, “You shouldn’t frown so much, it’ll age you faster. As much as I am all for our old man yaoi dynamics I don’t want you looking like the Old Man Logan who shotgun blasted me.”

Wade patted Logan on the arm as he squeezed past him to get entry into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He chucked the towel and change of clothes onto the bathroom’s counter top, knocking over the toothbrush pot and a few other bits. He then stripped off the red leather suit, having to peel it away as dried blood and various other bodily fluids had acted as fucking glue. Bare as the day he was born, Wade turned the shower on and fiddled with the taps to get the temperature just how he liked it. Steamy, the same way he liked his homoerotic fight scenes.

Stepping in, Wade rolled his shoulders and took a moment to let the water ease his tight muscles.

“That’s the good stuff,” he moaned softly, tilting his head back eyes closed.

After what felt like a suitable amount of time had passed, he grabbed his loofah and body wash and went to town on getting the caked-on grime off of his scarred skin. The water flowing down the drain was a murky burgundy as sand, old blood, and who knows what else was washed away.

When the water turned clear Wade decided to focus on… other things. Mainly the beefcake wearing his clothes at that very moment, the walking wet dream he was. Visions of those sweaty tits floated through his mind, making his cock – which had already been at half-mast – twitch in interest. God, he had been dying to rub one out since he woke up tied against The Wolverine. He grasped himself firmly and gave a few tugs to get fully hard before teasing over the tip. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as tried to stifle his whimpers. He worked over his shaft as he recalled how Logan had smiled during their scuffle in the Honda, how his blood had dripped onto the older man’s cheek and into his mouth – on those fangs. Logan had licked the blood off with an almost feral look in his eyes before launching him through the sun roof. Fuck. He wasn’t going to last with how pent-up he was. His grip tightened as he sped up his ministrations. He remembered the kiss after saving the multiverse as he came with an embarrassingly desperate groan. Logan had kissed him back. Had held him close. Yet when all was said and done, he had been ready to leave Wade behind. What a confusing, grumpy hunk. With a shaky exhale he turned off the shower.

Wade towelled off and got dressed. His chosen PJ’s for the night were lavender shorts and a Hello Kitty crop top. Hey – crop tops were invented by male bodybuilders to get around gym attire rules, so never let anyone tell you men can’t wear crop tops. With dramatic zeal, Wade threw open the door and strutted out of the bathroom. He was not expecting to have two pairs of hazel eyes looking right at him. One in disdain and one in… appraisal?

Laura. Laura was on his sofa. Why was she here? Oh god… did Laura hear him jerking off?!

“Oh.” Wade squeaked, mortified as his body tinged a dark red. “Hi there.”

The girl, so much like her father, grunted in response and turned away. Speaking of, Logan had yet to tear his eyes away and if Wade saw correctly, he seemed to be… sniffing?

“Enjoy y’shower, Red?” The smirking fucker asked, then gestured towards Laura, “The TVA just dropped her off. She has nowhere to crash so Althea kindly offered her y’spot on the bed.”

Wade gasped and marched round to stand in front of the pair, “What? Where am I supposed to sleep? On the floor?”

“I’m not going to make y’sleep on the floor in y’own home, Wade. Y’ll be bunking with me on the sofa.” Logan patted the free space next to him.

Wade stiffly sat down in the offered seat and whispered incredulously to the older man, “What about my bedtime cuddles?”

“I’m sure y’can make do without.” Logan deadpanned but that infuriating smirk was still plastered on his face.

It was quite the jump from it just being Wade and Al in the shitty one bed apartment to there now being four people in the space of a few hours.

Wade huffed and crossed his arms, “We need to find a bigger apartment… Anyone feel like Chinese food?”

There was a chorus of agreement. Wade took Al’s phone off the coffee table and opened up the delivery app he used most, his favourite Chinese take-out was top of the recommended list. He put in what he and Al usually ordered then passed the phone to Logan. His former eyebrows shot upwards as the bi-centenarian successfully navigated the menus and selected what he wanted. It was Laura who seemed perplexed by the menu and the food listed. It was a sweet moment, watching Logan awkwardly explain what everything was when asked. Despite being virtually strangers, there looked to be a genuine connection forming already. Kin recognising kin on that instinctual level only Wolverines can experience. Wade took the time to tell Al and Laura all about the epic battle in the streets and how they saved the world with the power of hand holding as they waited for their food to arrive.

“You know Peter will have told everyone by now that you’re back with company,” Al remarked, petting Mary Puppins who had situated herself on the elderly woman’s lap. “They’ll be over tomorrow, I just know it.”

Wade felt Logan go rigid beside him, was he worried about Negasonic and the other X-men in his makeshift family? Oh, that was going to be a weird meeting wasn’t it. Not because they’d be seeing a ghost of their Wolverine, no. Their Wolverine was still alive and kicking, after all it’s twenty-twenty-four at the moment not twenty-nine which was when his timeline’s Logan was scheduled to die. See, Wade had used that TVA device to jump forward in time and exhume his remains because for the TVA all timeline events are happening simultaneously. So these X-men would be seeing a stranger who looked like their Logan, and Logan would be seeing the faces of those he had already lost in his world knowing he was going to lose them here too. Wade made a silent vow to keep Negasonic, Yukio and Colossus away from Westchester when the time comes. He liked those ones.

…Wait. All that timey-whimey stuff meant that Paradox, the dickhead, was going to set off the Time Ripper five years before this timeline’s OG Logan was meant to die. Was he really so impatient to ‘prune’ the timeline that he wasn’t willing to waiting for the self-sacrificing fuck to actually do the thing?

“Everyone except Weasel – his actor has multiple sexual assault allegations against him and that’s not a good look for us,” Wade interjected in a most likely misguided attempt to lighten the mood. All it got him, however, was Laura and Logan staring at him. “Hey, I don’t keep people like that in my social circle. I’m a good boy. Consent is sexy and if someone doesn’t take no for an answer, stab ‘em. Solves everything.”

Laura nodded at the sagely advice then looked towards the door and stood up seconds before knocking resounded from the entry way. Wade handed her the tip money as she walked by to answer. Food secured, Wade stood up, washed up some cutlery that would be needed and handed them out as Logan helped Laura to sort out the food and Al turned on the TV – Golden Girls was already playing. They mostly ate in silence whilst Wade made comments about the episode that was met with “Shut up” from various people. It wasn’t long until Al was retiring for the night and taking Laura with her to sort some things to wear. The girl was briefly sent out with bedding, blankets and spare pillows for the sofa.

“We should probably get the bed set up, sounds like we’re in for a long day tomorrow,” Wade suggested while clearing away the take out containers.

“We should… but we still have those beers from the shawarma place. In the fridge, if y’d like to have them now,” Logan offered, collecting up the dirty cutlery to put in the already overflowing sink. He grunted at the sight of it.

Wade retrieved said beers and handed one to Logan who released a single claw and used it to pop the cap off. He then did the same to Wade’s, who found that all too attractive, he had to think of puppies being kicked to stop himself from popping a boner then and there.

“Cheers. To saving the world!” Wade toasted, clinking his bottle against Logan’s.

“To saving y’world,” Logan grumbled, immediately taking a deep swig.

“Any particular reason you wanted to share a drink with me, Peanut?” Wade asked, sitting back down on the cushion he had previously occupied, eyes following Logan as he sat on the opposite side of the sofa with legs spread. Slut.

“Deserve it after the shit we’ve been through. Not everyday people like us nearly die.” Logan answered, gesturing between them.

“Thank you, by the way, for not letting me face death alone in the end. Despite the noble sacrifice, I wasn’t lying when I said I was scared,” Wade said, shifting in his seat to bring both his feet up. It just never felt right to have them on the floor.

Logan growled, “Couldn’t exactly let y’. As I said, I had nothing left to live for. Would have left me stranded here with no fucking clue who anyone was if y’had succeeded. Asshole move on y’part.”

Wade nursed his beer as Logan spoke. Truthfully, he hadn’t thought that far ahead in his rushed plan to save everyone. He placed his drink on the coffee table and tried looking anywhere but at the man casually spread across his sofa. Candid moments came as naturally as bottoming to him. Not at all.

“In that moment, when you offered yourself up and held that picture, I thought I needed to save those I cared about. Apparently, in the three fucking days we’ve known each other for, you became the tenth person in my world. Saving everyone meant saving you too – despite the stabbing each other.”

The silence that came afterwards made him uncomfortable, had him reaching for his beer to keep his mouth busy. He could hear Logan gulping down his before hollow glass clinking on MDF resounded through the room with an accompanying sigh. Wade finally looked at the other man, who just seemed tired. Ready to call it a night.

“What’s done is done, Bub. Just glad we both survived to see another day.” Logan pointed to the mostly full bottle in Wade’s hands, “Y’gonna finish that?”

“Oh, uh yeah. Hang on.” In a similar display to what Logan had done in that dive-bar he dragged him out of, Wade necked the bottle of beer, some of the liquid dribbling out the corner of his mouth. He impressed himself with how he managed to chug it down without needing to breathe – he thought those binge drinking muscle memories had long since faded. Once empty, Wade lowered the bottle and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His gaze drifted over to Logan whose eyes, which were darker than usual (but that may have been down to the lighting), were locked on Wade’s throat.

“You good there, Honey Badger?”

Logan blinked a couple of times and shook his head, “Yeah just… just lost in thought. Let’s get the bed set already.”

Wade nodded and picked up their bottles, depositing them in a plastic bag that contained other used glass items. He then manoeuvred the coffee table out of the way so Logan could pull the bedframe and mattress out. It all felt rather domestic; pulling the bottom sheet into place, setting up the blankets and pillows together. The lights were turned off and the two men got under the covers. Wade really did try to go to sleep but for all his effort he was left tossing and turning.

“Will y’quit it? Is your ADHD so severe you can’t stay still even in your sleep?” Logan groaned, arm slung over his face.

“I wasn’t lying about needing bedtime cuddles, Logi Bear,” Wade hissed back.

Logan huffed and threw the arm closest to Wade over the younger man, “Fine. Y’can cuddle this arm. But just the arm.”

“Yay!” Wade cheered, eagerly rolling onto his side and wrapping his limbs around the offered arm like it was a tree to be climbed. “Goodnight, Wolvie.”

“G’night, Bubba.”

Did he just fucking call me Bubba?!

Wade was out like a light, the physical contact anchoring his racing thoughts enough to drift off peacefully.

That’s where you’re gonna leave it? I thought we were going to Pound Town?! THIS IS RATED E DAMMIT!

This was getting too long for a oneshot Wade. You’ll still get your trip to Fuckville don’t worry. It’s not tagged slowburn. Now go the fuck to sleep and I’ll see you next chapter.

#deadpool and wolverine #poolverine #deadpool x wolverine #deadclaws #deadpool

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