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ITS OCTOBER!!! y’all know what that means 🙏🙏

Can’t believe it’s happening…I’m running out of fics to read 😔😔

Kitty

Fandom: Marvel; X-Men Pairing: Logan Howlett/Wolverine / Reader (Gender Neutral) Rating: M Tags: Suggestive, Logan's cat ear hair, Teasing

Synopsis: Sleep-addled and maybe a little horny, you ask Logan if he does his hair like that on purpose.

A/N: Fun fact about this one - you could replace reader with Deadpool and the fic would probably be the exact same (but probably with more stabbing). Enjoy! Also I almost titled it Kittyuuuuuhhhh but decided against it LMAO. Is this good? No. But I needed to expel it like some kind of demon. Anyway-

You made a soft pleased noise, arching your back as you stretched as far as you could under the thin sheet of your shared bed. Muscled warmed, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, blinking blearily against the morning light that filtered in through the curtains.

You smiled - sleepy and sweet - as you propped yourself on your elbows to see the figure sat at the foot of your bed. Logan was already awake and halfway dressed, jeans hugging his hips as he leaned over to tug on his boots. Meanwhile, here you were - still in the oversized T-shirt you used as pajamas, your hair messy from sleep.

On that thought, your eyes drifted from where they had been admiring the taunt planes of his back, to Logan's own styled hair. He'd already brushed it, those little tufts that curled into what looked like tiny devil horns neatly defined in the soft morning light.

You frowned. Hmm, no, devil horns wasn't quite right. Not really.

You sat up, a hazy plan dancing through your mind as you crawled your way to the end of the bed. Logan glanced back at you - your heart flipped at the soft smile he offered you, making no effort to shy away from your touch.

"Hey, you don't have to get up because of me," he chided. You didn't listen - instead, you draped your arms around his warm shoulders, leaned in to pepper little kisses along his jaw, even if his beard caught most of them. You didn't mind how it tickled.

"But you're wearing my favorite outfit," you insisted, doing your best not to chuckle. You did like him in worn out jeans and no shirt. It looked good on him. Everything looked good on the man, though.

"I'm wearing half an outfit," he replied, turning just enough so that he could press a proper kiss to your lips. You sighed, pillowing your head on his shoulder as his lips met yours - lazy, gentle. Those weren't words you'd use to describe his kisses at any other time of day, really. This was special.

"I know," you replied, offering him a silly smile as you leaned against his shoulder, arm around his chest preventing him from dressing any further. He didn't seem to mind, though, as your free hand carefully carded your way through his hair - making sure not to displace any of his hard work.

"But something I don't know..." you continued, twirling a finger around the tip of one of the tufts. "Is why your hair ends up like this. Do you do it on purpose?"

"Do I do what on purpose?" he asked. It was laced with a chuckle, like he thought this was one of your half-awake musings. And, perhaps it was, in a way. You were, technically half-awake. But you weren't making things up. It was a real question that had crossed your mind on several separate occasions.

"You know-" you insisted, releasing that little bit of hair from your grasp. "The kitty ears."

"The what?"

He laughed it, pulled away from you if only to make sure you caught a glance of his expression - a mixture of shock and amusement that telegraphed to you that he still wasn't taking you seriously.

You rolled your eyes at him, removing your hand from around his shoulders to scratch along his scalp, up to that little tuft of curled hair. He closed his eyes, made a low rumbling noise in his throat that only seemed to further the illusion that he was really just some big cat in disguise.

"The kitty ears," you insisted, "do you or do you not purposefully style your hair so you have these little kitty ear things?"

You sat up on your knees, reaching both your hands up to curl in the tufts - tugging them just hard enough to make his eyes flutter open as he looked up at you.

"Cat ears," he deadpanned, doubt lacing his words. "You think my hair looks like cat ears."

"Kitty ears," you clarified, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "And you didn't answer my question, which means you absolutely do it on purpose."

"No-" Logan started, tone exasperated. But, unfortunately for him, he was already in too deep.

"Nope, sorry-" you laughed, sitting down behind him to wrap your arms around his bare chest, brushing through the downy hair there. "You're my little kitty now."

"Jesus Christ-" he groaned, rolling his eyes as you kissed his cheek. You made to kiss the corner of his lips next, but he turned his head ever so slightly, trying his best to quell the smile that was spreading. He'd just wanted you to pay attention as he insisted:

"I'm not a fucking cat."

"Why not?" you teased, kissing just under his ear with a little smile. "You've got the ears..."

You snaked a hand up to card through his hair again - making sure to rake your blunt nails along his scalp like you knew he loved. And, despite his dismissive tone, you caught his eyes fluttering closed, his lips parting ever so slightly.

"The claws..." you teased, punctuating each word with a new open-mouthed kiss to his neck - the last dotted with a touch of teeth that issued a sweet rumble from low in his throat.

"The fur-" your free hand slid down his chest - down the dips and curves of his defined abs, to tangle in the thicker hair that disappeared below the waistline of his jeans.

"And, I know how to make you purr," you chuckled, fingers dancing at the edge of his belt as your other hand weaved through one of those silly little kitty ears.

Logan wasn't immune to the way you touched him - when he laughed at your ridiculous comments, it was a bit breathless, even if he sounded absolutely exhausted with your antics.

"I have to get dressed," he insisted, his hand drawing over your own where you'd just started to wiggle your fingers under the tight denim. "And you're being ridiculous."

"Hmm," you hummed, nipping at the junction of his neck and shoulder. The muscles there jumped, tensed, then relaxed - and where he'd been grasping at your hand, your fingers briefly intertwined.

"If I remember correctly..." you pondered, nuzzling against his neck. "Kitties don't wear clothes."

"Oh, come on-" he groaned, laughing as he leaned back against your chest, his head pillowed on your shoulder. You grinned down at him. "How long are you gonna keep this shit up?"

"Until you're sick of it," you promised, kissing the corner of his mouth. He rolled his eyes. "Or, you take your pants off."

"We both know you'll keep saying it even if I take my pants off," he countered, his hold on your hand the only thing preventing you from inching your way into his pants.

"Touché. But -" you bargained. "I'd be distracted."

He laughed, loud and full, and your smile grew even more. That - that's what you really liked. When you could finally get some honest joy out of him. He looked so pretty when he smiled like that, even if it was brief. His hand squeezed over yours - soft, possessive, loving. That made your heart flutter even more than the thought of getting him undressed.

But he was right - you were never going to let him live this down.

Phobophobia Masterlist

Ch.1, Nyctophobia – An extreme and irrational fear of darkness

Ch.2, Sciophobia – An extreme and irrational fear of shadows

Ch.3, Philophobia – An extreme and irrational fear of love

Ch.4, Somnophobia – An extreme and irrational fear of sleep

Ch.5, Athazagoraphobia – An extreme and irrational fear of forgetting

Ch.6, TBC

It’s officially October…yall know what that means 😼😼

What Has Become of This Platform?

no but tell me why Tumblr lowkey scares me now

Like, I used to have tumblr in middle school and it was ALWAYS mad freaky but coming in now as an adult... I'm FLABBERGASTED by some of the content on here and the fact people ENJOY it

Read smut? okay, cool. Read INCEST smut? EXCUSE ME? Why are we acting like this is NORMAL? Why have I seen SO MUCH of that on my feed?

And why did I stumble across a whole account dedicated to AI nudes of kpop idols? Get help.

Is this insane and disgusting? Yes.

Am I deleting Tumblr and never looking back? No.

I just like to complain.

Hi Hedgi! I've never submitted a prompt before but here goes:

For DHD: OG Leverage, Elliot angst in 1x03 "The Two Horse Job". Something regarding him coming home?

(Hi! Yay, your first prompt!!)

"You don't get some kind of homecoming parade," Aimee  snapped, storming off.

Homecoming.Eliot takes a step back, like he's reeling from a slap. He wants to stop her, to talk to her. He doesn't move.  Homecoming.  Somehow that's the word that throws him, not the thought of a parade. A parade is the last thing he wants, so many people looking at him. It's the last thing he deserves, too. 

But even if it was something he wanted, even if it was something he'd somehow earned...

He hasn't come home. 

This place isn't home, not really. He didn't grow up here. Close enough, sure.  And he spent enough time in stables like these, with horses like these, with Aimee. But that's still not right. This isn't where his Dad is. It's not where his Mom's buried.

It hits him like a horse's kick to the chest, the kind that breaks ribs, the kind that makes widows. Grief. He can't afford grief, not in the field. It still gets him, now and again, in those quiet moments like now. It's selfish and pointless and stupid. He's done so much he should regret, so much he does regret, that greets him every morning and stays with him 'til he sleeps, but this is the thing that pricks at him at random.

He should have gone back. For the funeral. He'd have caught hell for it, and a court martial, too. But maybe that would have been worth it, to be here--or close enough-- instead of there when everything went sideways, and sideways again. 

He shakes his hair out of his eyes, blinks back the sun. He did come back, once, twice. Too late for it to matter.

Home is where the people who love you are, and Eliot’s not sure he’s really got any of those.

Fictober24

Prompt 14: "Did you stick to the plan?"

Fandom: Leverage (2008)

Relationships: the team's friendship dynamics

Rating: General

Summary:

The coms are not working, and Nate and Sophie are worried about Parker, Eliot and Hardison.

Short bickering scene, just because.

Nathan was sitting in front of the black TV screen, bouncing his knee and biting his lip. He’d gone through all his nails already and Sophie had smacked his shirt cuff out of his mouth, right before heading to the kitchenette of their suite muttering “Unbelievable”. 

She was babbling now, listing all the completely innocuous possible explanations she could think of while assembling a couple of sandwiches, but Nate knew she was as worried as him. They’d lost audio first, and shortly after they dropped from the reception venue CCTV. He had known it was a bad idea to put Hardison on the field and stay with the tech in the hotel, but the target knew both him and Sophie, so it couldn’t be helped. In his mind, several different extraction plans had been unfolding since losing contact 5 hours ago, and he was sure Sophie had half a mind of going downstairs. He’d seen her glance at her wardrobe and touch her hair absent-mindedly, plotting different outfits that could get her in.

It was 50 minutes past the agreed ETA and Nathan could not wait any longer:

“Sophie, I think we should—”

The door to the suite opened brusquely and in came Eliot, almost succeeding at containing his anger. 

“Get in”, he stage-whispered. “Now!”

Parker and Hardison hurried inside, Eliot shut the door and the three of them immediately launched into loud bickering. 

“How was I supposed to know?!” whined Parker. 

“You should have known!” boomed Eliot. 

“Don’t be so harsh, man, she—,” said Alec.

“No, don’t make me the bad guy! She should have known because you should have told her!”

“I did tell her! In a way…”

“Ugh! I can’t deal with you two right now!”

“Okay, Grumpy McGrumpface, maybe Nate could have warned me if someone hadn’t cut us out!” countered Parker. Alec gasped audibly at that:

“It was you? What— What the hell did you do? I’ve been trying to fix this shit with a smartphone, a Stone Age pocket console and the hotel’s courtesy WiFi while pretending to be African royalty because Eliot “Perfect Little Soldier” Spencer broke something?!”

Eliot was already squaring himself and pointing at Alec a menacing finger when Sophie interjected:

“Children, children, enough!”, she exclaimed as she walked up to them and rubbed motherly Parker and Eliot’s shoulders. 

The three of them took a mildly frustrated breath in and did their best to sober up, only to be faced by an arms-crossing, brow-frowning, lips-pursing Nathan. 

“Nate,” said Hardison, raising his palms defensively. “I can explain.”

“Did you stick to the plan?” he asked, scratching one eyebrow and bracing for the answer.

“No, we didn’t,” spat Eliot, giving the stink eye to Parker and Hardison. 

“Parker stole from the client,” explained Hardison.

“What?!” said Sophie and Nate in unison, which prompted Parker to whine and stomp in her place while she produced a zip bag full of priceless ancient Norse jewelry. 

“Seriously, how was I supposed to know our client was the Consul of—-”

“Ah, bah bah bah bap! No names. No names,” interrupted Nate, making a halt sign with his hand. She huffed and shoved the bag against his open palm before heading to the kitchenette. Cereal box in hand she pointed her finger at all of them. 

“We never have rich politician clients! You should have warned me!” and she proceeded to stuff her face with multicolored high carbs bites.

Sophie, Hardisson and Eliot turned to Nathan, who was weighing the bag in his hand. After a couple of seconds he said:

“Did you at least steal what we were actually supposed to steal?”

Eliot tossed at him a fist sized velvet box without a word. 

“Good,” said Nathan. “I’m going down to fix this. You stay and tell Sophie everything about how you collectively managed to mess this up.”

He winked and left.