#Because the 'fix' is rather easy
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someone-you-do-not-know · 1 year ago
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👓
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lowstakesvampires · 17 days ago
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in which a language barrier has the new kid accidentally naming his new friends
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overly-verbose · 6 months ago
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That funny moment when you realise you'll have to Completely rewrite a whole segment of writing (around 1k words + maybe more in different places) because you've come up with something to add so everything makes even more sense especially a bit down the line but the added scene severely changes the setup of that segment in question
(a character that was doing something during it will have to be doing something entirely different and thus another one will have to take over that action so THEY will have to act completely differently not only because they're now doing that but because they're a Different Person doing that same thing + everyone else will have to react to the changed situation in a slightly different way and-)
+ some things ended up being brought up earlier or not at all and also the dialogue is not dialoguing properly so you might have to start this one other whole segment from scratch as well
(you know what you want the characters to take out of this part of the conversation but it all needs to make sense from all perspectives and it isn't working as it should so far, but until you finish this part of the conversation there's no point in doing anything too concrete further down the timeline because it's all so tightly connected that you'll just have to rewrite it all again anyway-)
*unholy screeches of unclear origin*
Why is writing so much easier when you just daydream about it/write down pure ideas smhhh
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seeveekat · 1 month ago
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I need elections to be over cuz this is what its been basically like dealing with (mainly) white leftists (accelerationists tbh)
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pothame · 7 months ago
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not to beat a dead horse but i think what rubbed me the wrong way about day getting his sight back in the end, besides the message that *i* felt was being conveyed was that you can't be happy or complete while being disabled, is that after the first sugery didn't take as well i assumed it was going to be like chinzhilla losing hot wave in my school president. it didn't go the way the characters might have wanted it to but it will be okay! if you lose a competition you worked hard for it will be okay! if you lose your eyesight and can't regain it, it will be okay! you can be disabled and be happy and okay!
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fagdykevash · 10 months ago
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characters who think of themselves as demons and characters who only see them as angels send post. anyway i might be getting fired
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oglegoggle · 2 years ago
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It’s honestly really funny to me in retrospect that the moment our relationship really started to decay in my heart was when we went to the second Burn together, but I know full well that for the same reasons I was starting to fall out of love with him he was convinced that they’re the reasons why I’m The One to him.
I spent the entire weekend fixing the problems caused by his dumbassery, babying him through a meltdown, and not reacting explosively to the assorted fuckups of the weekend while he did and managing one crisis after another with grace and responsibility and control.
I can see why he would be enchanted by a man whom doesn’t dump gas on the fire when things go wrong so to speak. But fuck he was deluded to realistically think I would be forever charmed by an idiot whom is incapable of not constantly setting those proverbial fires and expecting me to put them out.
#this is goggles#I spent that entire vacation being dad to an incompetent 30 year old#and he spent that entire vacation feeling like he was living out a legit Hollywood romance movie#I continue to feel like a manic pixie dream gay#like I exist for others’ to further their character arcs#that I’m perfect and dreamy and exactly what they need so long as I go out of my way to fix their life and make them feel adored#but the instant that my pain and my difficult needs read their ugly heads#the instant that I topple off the pedestal and my imperfections shine#it’s game over#like I’m precious and essential and they’ll never let me go when I’m attending to their difficult needs#but the moment I have difficult needs I’m disposable#I’m not worth the effort and sacrifice because their fuckin awful cat means more to them than I do after it legit traumatized me#I’m the perfect man when I’m putting out fires#but I’m garbage to be thrown out when I get burned#I want so dearly to be loved even when it’s not easy and fun#I want to be loved in such a way that responsibility can be a shared burden rather than one I must lift entirely off their shoulders#I want to be loved with affection and attention I want to be touched and held and kissed and I don’t want to feel constantly ignored#I want to be loved in ways that I don’t have to totally compromise my own comfort of living for the other#I like it cold in the house there will be no dogs or cats and the tv can’t be running constantly and it needs ti be kept clean by both of us
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selkies-world · 10 months ago
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Also, spinal misalignment, scoliosis & kyphosis can usually still be corrected in children & young adults without surgery, if you shop sound for the right doctor & expert. If you leave it until adulthood, it takes a lot more to treat it, and unless you know exactly what caused it & a fair amount of your family's medical history, you're gonna be given the option of physical therapy to manage the pain or surgery which won't guarantee less pain at all.
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Hot tip for parents both present and future: When your kid tells you something is wrong, listen to them!
Sorry for not posting much lately, I’ve been busy with work and personal stuff, including an upcoming spinal x-ray I’ve been waiting over a decade for and the angriest doctor I’ve ever met in my life
#I'm 24 & have had my idiopathic scoliosis tracked since i was 8(?)#from 8 - 12 it was still possible for my spine to fix itself via growth sprouts - it was a coin flip...#...whether they'd fix it or make it worse#so i decided i wanted to wait rather than treat it#i also got taken to a chiropractor around this time (i know i know) for maybe a year???#by 15 my spine had gone from slightly curved to a full 'S'#from 15 - 17 i was offered surgery more than 10 times#i refused all of them because i didn't trust doctors or surgeons enough to put my entire life & future in their hands#I'd had surgery on my ribcage twice by then i KNEW how much i needed to trust them to let them operate on my spine#and that was a trust they didn't have#i haven't had an xray since then & I went to physio for maybe 8 months total from 18 - 20#at 23 i discovered somatic therapy for scoliosis & it treats it holistically by working on the muscles AROUND the spine...#...which impact it & determine its placement & position & strength etc#I have now been doing that inconsistently for around 9 months & have straightened my lower spine#i can run my fingers over my vertibrae & they're in a staight line down the center of my lower back#i am continuing with somatic therapy to straighten my upper spine too#is it easy? no. is it emotionally draining? sometimes. do i sometimes overlook it or procrastinate doing it because im tired or bored? yes.#however... is it worth it? yes. do i wish a doctor had given me this option at least once over the past 10+ years? yes.#am i lowley angry at the fact i got told i couldn't cure it with surgery AS A CHILD but am now straightening it myself as an adult...#...while KNOWING if i mention this to a doctor who doesn't “believe in” holistic treatments then I'll be laughed at or told to stop? YES.#i plan on getting a spinal checkup later this yesr at a specialist clinic i spent 4 months researching because i wanna SEE my spine#and i wanna be able to talk about this out loud#I've had genetic testing & as far as i was told there was no cause or underlying reason for my scoliosis - so it's idiopathic#(meaning drs dont know what caused it)#my mother also has idiopathic scoliosis & ive watched her body deteriorate over the laat 12+ years because she has not been treated...#...for it aince she was a child & the only treatment back then was putting a lift in her shoes to compensate#it did nothing to help & she's tried acupuncture for the pain but hasn't had the spine treated since she was 12(?)#and honestly???? im terrified of losing control of my body the way she has lost control of hers#so am i willing to risk doing somatic therapy if it is the only thing which has given me hope of control & a future with a straight spine???#yes. a million times yes.
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asclexeposting · 3 days ago
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sometimes i feel jealous of cisgender people but then. i dont it’s whatever man. no wait i am. i am very jealous of cisgender people in a fucked up way. what
#i feel like jealous of them because they get to live their life at least feeling right about one thing#they can be perfectly content with their bits and their birth self. and i am so jealous that i probably wont feel that way ever#im like weirdly so envious of people who have such a usually uncomplicated and easy view of gender#this is a totally different thing but im so jealous of people who have almost over involved and cool parents#i’ll see people who like. their parents have an instagram account..and they’ll like…tag each other#and put stupid mother-daughter stuff on their story or idk. be so chill and aware of their kid’s lives#my mom is definitely involved in my life and she does love me but she just like. idk.#there’s probably a lot that goes on those behind closed doors but they’re so like supportive of their Out kids and they like post about it#so something must be going right.#i wish i could just be out to my mom and proudly say hey im your lesbian son now but i can’t because ill be killing her beloved daughter#all i am to her is her Daughter who’s like a best friend to her. and i would feel really bad if i ever kill that idea#in my mind knowing im trans i already know that that girl is dead but its like i haven’t broken the news to the family#they’re so blissfully unaware their daughter is dead and that their son killed her#i dont want to live with that guilt so i’ll have to dispose of the evidence of her body and run far away as a new man#yea theyd accept me if i came out as a lesbian. its like having a daughter but not having to worry about grandchildren#but not if i was physically something else. they wouldn’t kick me out they wouldn’t be outwardly mad.#but they’d always be disappointed that shes gone. they’d always grieve her. they’d always insist she was still here#so thats why like. i can’t. im gonna have to turn eighteen move far away transition to the man i am and never return#let them believe their beloved daughter is missing rather than dead#and these kids. this one specific person actually. can just. be out and be happy and have their parents accept and love them unconditionall#or some never have to come out because they were born right and their parents will love them still and they don’t have to be as#as in danger about their rights right now because of the government#or feeling so Wrong their entire lives or even when they figure out what’s wrong that they cant fix it yet#or having to choose between being repressed and miserable about their real self forever or running away or having to live with eternal guil#while being themself and trying to be happy#they get to feel right about their identity and can comfortably fit in with groups#some cis people anyways#for others theres a lot of other external factors not about gender that makes some people so. kinda like this#like im completely sure there’s plenty people of color who feel this frustration with white people or disabled people about abled people#the frustration that people who were like born or raised or live certain way that they get to have all of these things
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cutestguy · 3 months ago
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“Plastic surgery addiction” this and “plastic surgery addiction” that. I just want to not have a breakdown over the way my body looks every day
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sereniv · 5 months ago
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apologies are hard and can be embarassing
but life is too short to let your grandma go to bed sad
#it wasnt a big bad deal#but i didnt listen and projected my guilt#i wanted to be angry and annoyed#but whats the point#is it really that important to feel right when youre actually wrong#to feel mighty bc youre less emotional than another person#its hard to swallow that pride and to admit you were wrong#but you never know if this moment is the last with that person#and putting in that perspective it makes it easy to say youre sorry#i sometimes forget this#something i learned very young after fighting with my mom and upon reflection realized i was wrong the whole time#ive always had this ability since then to swallow my pride almost immediately and jump straight to fixing what i did wrong#but then long story short i lost that ability when i learned the word 'no' for myself#i stopped paying attention and focused on only me#and sometimes i forget that this is not who i want to be. i forget to work on myself#im glad that i made myself apologize and im glad that i made sure i didnt apologize weakly#none of that 'im sorry you feel that way'#but id like to work on avoiding this all together. and thats hard for me. because it requires me to be aware like i used to#which for me is PTSD related. but i dont want to be on my deathbed recalling all the pointless times i doubled down#taking up time that could have been happy#people say its easy to be kind and it is but sometimes when youre guilty it feels good to give into your frustrations and get defensive#again nothing bad happened. i just told her i wanted to do the dishes. she was currently washing some and because of guilt#of my perception of what shes able to do i doubled down on me doing them instead of her even though she assured me she was able#i thought she was lying to me and she got upset. no yelling just not allowing her to do what little shes able#and not trusting her at her word. to be fair she does lie and will admit that she has- when doing things when i feel sick#even when i tell her that id rather choose what im able to do instead of her assuming. which is exactly what i did#me being a hypocrit. so yeah. not a great feeling on multiple levels of this scenario#but truly i need to remember to focus on what matters and that is just taking someones word for it while making sure they know they can#freely tell their feelings. meaning if shes doing the dishes and she says shes fine. let it be. and make sure she absolutely knows that when#i say im fine that i too am telling the truth
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w0nderland · 10 months ago
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lovelyghst · 9 months ago
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soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.
it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.
he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.
and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.
he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.
simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.
he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.
he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.
dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.
and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.
would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.
simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.
your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.
“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”
and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.
“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.
you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.
he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.
“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”
you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.
he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.
he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.
“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”
(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)
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not-neverland06 · 2 months ago
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Hey I’m just begging for a fic of Logan with a shy reader that she has a crush on him but thinks he’s never going to fix on her since Jean exists (maybe the reader can make her hair color change depending on the emotion or something
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a/n: sorry I haven’t been responding to asks. The new job has officially killed my spirit. But I got to work out finally and do some yoga so hopefully I’ll start feeling more motivated 🤞🤞this one will be shorter
Logan Howlett x X-men!reader (Chameleon)
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“Chameleon!” You jump, shoulders flying up to your ears. Almost immediately you can feel the tips of your fingers tingling. Sure enough, when you look down they’re already disappearing. Sighing, you turn around and glare at Scott. 
“What have I told you about scaring me?” 
He grimaces, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry, I forgot.”
You roll your eyes and turn back toward your project. “Every time,” you mutter bitterly. You’re not an idiot. You know he thinks scaring you is funny. The whole school does. They all like to see you yelp and blend in with the nearest surface, the only thing visible is your stupid hair. 
“You’re, um, turning red.” Scott points to your head and you don’t have to look to know your hair is shifting colors.
You reach over and swat harshly at his arm, “Because you pissed me off! I know you scare me on purpose,” you accuse, jabbing your finger into his chest. He laughs and stumbles away from you. 
“Alright, alright, calm down. I was just messing around a little. Look,” he glances down at the lesson plans before you and sighs. “All this will have to wait. Charles needs us all for a mission.”
You huff and shove the papers into your desk drawer. “Alright, lead the way.” You feel Scott’s eyes still lingering on your hair and glare at him. “Move it, Summers,” you demand. 
You were already in a bad mood, you didn’t need him making it worse. It honestly shouldn’t be such a big deal for you. You get scared by everyone all the time. You used to enjoy it, enjoyed the way it felt like you all had your own joke. But, eventually, it started to feel less like an inside joke and more like you’re the unwitting butt of one. 
Some mutants get amazing powers, like Jean or Charles. Logan’s abilities are incredible, even if he doesn’t believe you when you tell him that. But yours, well, you're better suited as the cheap gimmick of a children’s birthday party than an X-Men. You’re just a walking mood ring that blends in with her environment. 
The only thing you’re good for is reconnaissance missions and embarrassing yourself. You don’t know what Charles sees in you. You’ve never understood why he insists you’re such a good asset to the team. Yes, you are good at spying on people, but you don’t need to when Charles has such strong telepathic abilities. You’re essentially useless in a fight due to a lack of regenerative or strength abilities. 
More often than not you feel like a child playing dress up, chasing after the big kids. You know the others don’t mean anything bad by it when they tease you into going invisible or laugh when your hair changes. It’s all in good fun. But it doesn’t make you feel any less like easy entertainment rather than a teammate. 
It doesn’t help that you’ve got little to no control over your abilities when it comes to Logan. You’ve never had such a horrifically bad crush like this. Anytime he opens his mouth around you, you're fighting off the urge to just go invisible and run away. You feel like you go feral around him. You don’t know how he hasn’t caught onto what the colors of your hair mean when you’re near him. 
It’s constantly switching between some odd mix of red and pink when you talk. Which, you know what it means, but you’re praying no one else does. Red can mean angry, depending on whether you’re talking to Scott or not. You know, though, that with Logan it just means you want to jump his bones and you’re hopelessly in love with him. 
Thankfully, like the others, he associates red with anger. Which isn’t great for you because that just means he thinks every time he opens his mouth you’re pissed off. At yourself, maybe, but at him, never. It just means when he wears those stupid tanktops you want to dig your teeth into his biceps and never let go. 
Scott opens the door to the meeting room and you slide in past him. Charles gives you a brief smile as a greeting. You take the chair at the end of the table, which just happens to be next to Logan - completely coincidental. He gives you a tense smile and you return it stiffly. You tug your hood over your hair, praying he doesn’t notice the red in your strands yet. You don’t want him to think you hate him. You completely prefer that over him knowing how feral you are for him, but it’s not conducive to your slow plan to finally get him to acknowledge you as a sexual partner. 
You swear, if your name isn’t Jean Grey, you might as well just be a shapeless blob of nothing. He glances over at her, that smoldering look in his eyes, and you try not to throw up in your mouth. Scott wraps an arm around Jean’s shoulders and they break their lingering stares. 
Logan glances over at you and catches the glare on your face before you can get rid of it. He huffs and turns towards Charles. With a sigh, you sink back into your chair and focus on not just going invisible. 
“Chameleon,” Charles says your name and your eyes widen. You wonder how much you’ve missed while you’ve been glaring at the back of Jean’s head. “Does that sound alright with you?”
You look around the table for help but they’re all staring expectantly at you. “Sure,” you stumble over the word, racking your brain for any answers. It seems not even your subconscious was paying attention to Charles droning on. “Sounds great.” He gives you a satisfied nod. 
“Good. Off to the jet, all of you.” he rolls out of the room and you wait until he’s out of earshot to kick Logan under the table. 
He glances back at you, smirking. “Don’t know what you agreed to?”
You purse your lips and shake your head. “Nope,” he gives you a look like he knew you’d say that. You hate how well he can read you when it feels like you’re constantly hitting walls trying to understand him. 
“You’re scoping a place out for us. Making sure it’s safe so we can retrieve some information.” You give him a thankful look and he chuckles. “You need to start paying attention, kid.”
You groan and get up from your chair, brushing past him. “I told you to quit calling me that.” It makes you feel like that’s all he’ll ever see you as, some kid invited onto the team. You want him to see you as someone he could have sex with, hopefully, love one day. 
He glances past you at Jean. She smiles at him and you fight everything inside you to not roll your eyes and gag at them. She’s holding onto Scott and making fuck me eyes at Logan, which he’s happily returning. This is just too disgusting for you. 
You shove past him and ignore how he calls out your name. Your real name. He’s the only one that uses it. For some reason, most people just refer to you by Chameleon. You don’t understand why. They just don’t seem to think of you outside your abilities as a mutant. 
You make it to the jet before the others, taking the private time to change into your X-Men suit. If there’s one useful thing about your ability, it’s that it affects whatever’s touching you. Which means, you don’t have to strip naked to go completely invisible. And if anyone is around you, all you have to do is hold onto them and they’ll blend in too. 
You’re tugging up the zipper of your top as Logan walks in. He gives you an odd look, sitting on the bench in front of you. “Angry about something?” He asks, gaze darting up to your head. 
You drag your fingers over the ends of your hair and sigh. “No,” you tell him bluntly, taking the seat beside him. 
His brows furrow in confusion. “It’s red, though,” he points out, his tone colored in suspicion. 
You laugh a little, “Red doesn’t always mean angry.” It’s the most you’ve ever confided about your hair colors to him. The largest hint you’ve ever given him that you don’t hate him. You’re worried if he knew how you really felt about him, he’d think you were a little creep. 
He slides his arm behind you on the bench, leaning in until you’re practically sharing the same air. You know your eyes are comically large, you don’t even want to know what color your hair is turning right now. “What else does it mean, kid?” He whispers and you don’t even pay attention to the nickname. All you can see and hear right now is him. How close he is, how close your lips are. 
You could lean forward an inch or two and you’d be kissing. “Um,” you swallow harshly around the lump in your throat. You don’t even know what he asked you, all you can think about now is kissing him. 
“Logan!” Ororo’s voice echoes through the jet and you leap away from him, trying to calm your racing heart. Logan sighs and leans back in his seat, giving Storm a tense smile. She glances at you and laughs, “She’s nearly see-through, what are you doing to her?”
You frown and look down at your hands. Sure enough, you’re going translucent. You let out a silent groan, and tuck your knees into your chest. You take a few deep breaths until you’re one solid form again. It’s so embarrassing when that happens, when you lose control over yourself like that. 
But it’s even worse when Logan does it to you. He gives you hope, stupid, hateful hope, for one minute that he might feel something deeper. Only for it to be another joke. You’re a walking mood ring, nothing more than a quick laugh to all of them. 
Jean walks up the ramp, her gaze going to Logan first before drifting towards you. “Are you alright?” She mutters, trying not to let the others hear. Of course, Logan can, with his stupid enhanced abilities. “You’re turning blue,” she points out and you roll your eyes. 
You can feel Logan’s stare burning holes into the side of your head and it only makes you feel worse. You hate being a joke, but you also hate showing them just how much it affects you. You don’t want to seem like a crybaby that can’t handle a little teasing. But you’d thought coming to Charles’ school meant people would stop poking fun at you. It feels like being dragged right back into high school. 
“I’m fine,” you tell her. She doesn’t look like she believes you but she takes a seat anyway. Of course, placing herself right next to Logan, even though her fiancee is a few feet away from her, looking just as hurt as you. They lean into each other and whisper. They’re not even trying to hide it anymore. You let your glare bore into the floor, ignoring how much seeing them together hurts. 
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The mission had gone well, Logan had been hoping to go to the bar and grab a drink with you. But the second his back is towards you, you’re running off the jet. Logan calls out your name, trying to catch up. You glance back at him, looking like a deer caught in the headlights. He smiles at you and your eyes widen. You go invisible and Logan glances around, baffled. 
He calls out your name again but the door ahead of him opens and closes quickly. He can only assume you’ve run away again. You always run away from him. You’re always pissed off at him. He doesn’t know what Jean’s talking about when she says you like him. 
Logan’s never met anyone more repulsed by him. 
“Would you just trust me?” Jean tells him lowly, creeping up behind him. 
His face falls and he turns to her, glaring at her knowing smirk. “She just fuckin’ ran away from me. Pretty sure that’s about as good a hint as I’m gonna get, Jean.”
She glances over her shoulder, waving Scott away and looping her arm through Logan’s. “You’re an idiot, Howlett.” He scoffs and she swats at his shoulder. “Trust me, I can read minds, remember?”
Of course, he knows she’s got some pretty decent telepathic abilities. But he didn’t think she would so brazenly breach your boundaries. There’s an unspoken rule that the mind readers of the school don’t delve into your brain without permission. 
She sees the look on his face and sighs. “I didn’t read her mind. She got drunk a little while ago and told me about her raging crush on you,” she laughs a little at your expense and Logan lets out a short chuckle. You can be a pretty sloppy drunk if they let you go too far. He figures it was one of those girl’s nights he wants nothing to do with. You’d probably let the tight reigns you keep on yourself slip for once. 
“She goes red every time she sees me. I don’t know what else that could mean other than she hates me.” Logan isn’t surprised that you’re not taken with him like he is with you. He’s used to the rejection, but it hurts just a bit more coming from you. You’re so welcoming to the others. 
You embrace every new member of the school with open arms. Yet, with him, you get angry whenever you see him. You see through his walls, see the rot lurking underneath them. And, rightfully, want nothing to do with him. He understands your reasoning. 
Most days he barely wants anything to do with himself. He’s made a lot of bad choices in his life, half of which he can’t remember. But he’d hoped, for one minute, that you might give him a second chance. As much as Jean insists otherwise, he can see the truth of how you feel about him every time you run away. 
“Red doesn’t always mean anger,” Jean tells him elusively. It’s the same thing you’d said to him on the jet. It makes his brows furrow in confusion and he glares at her. 
“What else could it mean?” He demands sharply, sick of her teasing him with the possibility you might feel the same way. 
She bites her lip, looking suddenly sheepish. “I can’t say-”
“Jean,” Logan snaps. He stops her from walking any further, keeping her planted in one spot with him. “Tell me,” he’s sick of the games you’re both playing with him. He just wants some straight fucking answers. How hard is that?
She sighs and looks away from him. “I promised her I wouldn’t tell.”
“And I’m sure you promised you also wouldn’t tell me how she feels about me,” he points out. There’s a sharp tone to his voice, it’s rude but he can’t bother feeling guilty about it. 
She can’t meet his eye, a smirk fighting at the corner of her lips. He waits impatiently for her answer, irritation broiling quickly in his gut. He’s about to snap at her again when she finally meets his eyes. 
She speaks through a laugh, like what she’s about to say is so ridiculous she can’t hold it in. “She wants,” she cuts herself off with another laugh and Logan groans in frustration. He begins to walk away from her when she yells, “She wants to fuck you!” At his back. 
His eyes widen in surprise before he turns back to her with a displeased look. “Are you fuckin’ with me?” He demands, narrowing his eyes at her suspiciously. 
She shakes her head and brushes past him. “You didn’t hear it from me,” she warns, tone grave as she leaves the room. 
Logan is left standing in the same spot, stunned at the revelation. He’s not sure how much of that he believes. But he doesn’t understand why Jean would possibly lie to him about this. She gains nothing by setting him up for failure. As much as he doubts the honesty behind her words, he’s got no other choice but to trust them. 
He heads to the most likely place you’re hiding out. Charles has a private library that’s blocked off from the kids. There are too many first editions in there, he can’t risk any of them accidentally blowing them up. You like to head there when you’re trying to avoid people. 
He tries to stay quiet as he walks in, not wanting you to run off again. It’s hard to confront someone who goes invisible whenever she feels like it. He sees light blue hair draped over the back of an armchair. He feels like a creep as he stalks towards you, sneaking and pouncing on you so you can’t run away. 
He can’t imagine how Jean ever thought him approaching you would be a good idea. He whispers your name, trying not to startle you. It doesn’t take a genius to see how much you hate when the others scare you. They might not mean anything bad by it, but they have to be blind not to see how much it pisses you off. 
You still jump, glancing up at him with a surprised look. He looks to your hair for any tells of how you feel. Some pink weaves its way through the stands but it otherwise stays relatively blue. His brows furrow in confusion, he can’t tell if it’s a good or bad sign that there’s no red. 
“How are ya, kid? Ran off pretty quick earlier.” 
“Don’t call me that,” you mutter, giving him a brief glare before staring absently down at the book in your hands. Logan kneels beside your armchair, covering the pages with his hand. You huff, giving him an expectant look. “Yes, Logan?” You demand, tone short.
Logan tilts his head, examining you and your body language. You seem relatively closed off, irritated at him or something else. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s never been good with words or trying to express how he feels. He’s more comfortable showing how much he cares for those around him. 
Throwing caution to the wind, he lets his hand drift to your wrist and tugs you forward. Your eyes widen as he drags you toward him. The kiss is short, he doesn’t want to push you too much. But it takes everything in him to stop himself from deepening it. All he wants is to pull you into his arms and devour you. 
He holds back, parting from you with a low exhale. Your eyes flutter open and he grins when he sees the bright red your hair has turned. “What,” you sputter and stumble over your words. You shove him back and leap to your feet. “What the hell was that?” You demand, voice higher than he’s ever heard of it. “What was that?” You ask him shrilly, again. 
You almost seem to be stuck in a loop, blinking rapidly and asking the same thing. Logan chuckles and gets to his feet, he gives you a knowing look and you narrow your eyes at him in disbelief. 
“Jean told me.”
Your brows furrow and you shake your head. Realization dawns on your face and you gasp, looking up at him with something like horror on your expression. “No,” you tell him lowly. “She didn’t,” it almost sounds like you’re begging him to tell you otherwise. 
He laughs again and your face falls. You start going clear, he can see the bookshelf through your stomach and he sighs. He grabs your hand, holding onto you before you can run again. You don’t even seem to be aware that you’re slowly disappearing from view. 
“She’s, uh,” he struggles to figure out what to say to make you feel better. “She’s been coaching me,” he admits shamefully. “Trying to help me talk to you.”
You glance up at him but he can barely see your expression. The only thing reassuring him you’re here is his grip on you and your voice. “What? But I thought that-” You cut yourself off quickly and Logan glares down at where he thinks your face is. 
“Thought what?”
You take a long pause and exhale deeply. “I thought,” you mutter, “you liked her.”
“She’s with Scott,” he points out bluntly. He can practically hear you roll your eyes, even if he can’t see it. 
“Yeah, I know. But you guys are always whispering to each other and making googly eyes.”
“Googly eyes?” He interrupts, disgust clear in his tone. 
“I was wrong,” you continue, ignoring him. “I see that now, but I thought you didn’t care about me.”
Logan huffs, he hates that you thought that. He should have just been open with you from the start. He’s faced rejection his whole life, he shouldn’t have been so petrified of it just because it could come from you. If he’d just manned up and told you earlier, it would have saved you both a lot of time and hurt. 
“Kid,” he hopes he’s making eye contact with you and not just staring at some random book. It’s really hard to tell when you go invisible like this. “You’re the only person I care about in here.”
You’re quiet for a long while and he worries you’ve somehow slipped away without him realizing. But, ever so slowly, you start coming back into view. Logan awkwardly averts his eyes from your breasts, he’d been hoping he was making eye contact with you, clearly, he was wrong. 
“You mean that?” You ask, and he hates the trepidation in your voice. He’s never been good with words, he doesn’t know how to tell you how much you mean to him. But he can show you. 
His hand drifts up your arm, wrapping around the back of your neck and tugging you towards him. You trip over your feet, hands landing on his chest to stabilize yourself. He leans down, hovering over your lips for a moment. He waits until your eyes drift shut and your lips purse impatiently before he finally kisses you again. 
He doesn’t hold himself back this time. He pours every racing thought he’s ever had about you, every one of his wanted-to-tell-you-how-he-feels-and-hasn’t moments into the kiss. Your hands slowly curl up into his shirt, wrinkling it and tugging him further into you. 
To his surprise, you deepen the kiss, mouth moving over his like you want to devour him whole. He’s sure if he opened his eyes your hair would be a bright roaring red. He smirks against your lips, happy that, for once, he actually listened to Jean. If it gets him results like this, he might have to do it more often. 
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end. — I do not own the characters or the comics/movies Wolverine/X-Men, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.
General Taglist: @evasmlp ♡ 
Logan Taglist:  @nonamevenus @smexy-bucky-waifu @wh1sp @peony-always @corvusmorte  
@mrs-ephemeral @wolviesgirl @allllium @insomniachox @izbelross  ♡ 
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corkinavoid · 18 days ago
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DPxDC My Brother in the Mirror
Damian doesn't like mirrors.
He never mentioned the fact to other members of the family, but they are detectives and vigilantes, it's their job to be observant. Which, after so many years, becomes a habit.
Damian doesn't actively avoid the mirrors - he has a mirror in his bathroom, he didn't express any discomfort over going into a mirror labyrinth at some carnival they've attended (he expressed disgust over taking part in something so stupid, in his words, but that's a whole another story), and he actually spent a few minutes in front of the funhouse mirrors when no one was looking, watching his own reflection distort in various ways. He also has no problems with his self-image - he doesn't mind pictures of him taken at any time (unless it's Tim, but that's, again, a whole another story), he's drawn a few self-portraits that were rather accurate and he liked them.
He just doesn't like mirrors. For some reason.
His family, both close and extended, never questioned it. They did some gentle research to see if the dislike was caused by some kind of problem Damian was experiencing without telling anyone, but when they found no proof of that, they've just decided it was some quirk of his. Everyone has quirks. Dick doesn't like eating cereal like a normal person, Tim despises sleep, Steph is at war with any color other than purple.
That is, until one day, Tim witnesses Damian sitting in front of a mirror.
He is not even aware of it - the whole family is having a game night, and through some arguments and rearrangements on the couch, Damian ends up sitting on the left side of it, where his back is turned to one of the three mirrors in the room. Tim, who's lost the last round, is slumping in an armchair nearby, pointedly looking away from the screen where Damian and Jason are enthusiastically competing over the first place in Mario Cart. Of course, Tim can't just not watch it since he needs to know their strategies. But turning back around would also be admitting defeat.
The solution? Easy, watch the screen through the mirror.
Which is when he notices it.
Damian in the mirror doesn't act the same as Damian in the room. Out of the corner of his eye, Tim can see the real Damian moving around, shoving Jason with his elbow, fully concentrated on the game, and yelling something. Damian-in-the-mirror is sitting unnaturally still, the back of his head over the couch unmoving.
Tim forgets all about the game when Damian's reflection starts to turn around. Slowly and carefully, eerie in the way the horror movies are, the boy in the mirror turns his head around like an owl, his neck twisting inhumanely.
His eyes are green. Green like the toxic waste, like Jason's madness, like acid in cartoons, like the Waters of Lazarus.
Damian in the mirror smiles, his unblinking, gliwing eyes fixed on Tim, and his teeth are sharp and pointy, and there are too many of them, humans can't smile this wide.
"-im? Tim!" A hand nudges him in the shoulder, and Tim looks away from the mirror, finding Dick standing over him. The noise of the game room returns all at once, and, wait, when did it become quiet for Tim?.. He must have a strange expression on his face because Dick's easy smile falls slightly, and he frowns, "Is everything okay?"
Tim looks back to the mirror, but the green-eyed boy in the mirror is gone, and the mirror only reflects Damian as he is: sitting on the couch.
"Yeah," Tim shakes his head and forces a smile on his lips, "I just zoned out."
"Okay," Dick pats him on the shoulder and gives him the controller, "It's your turn now."
Tim takes the controller and turns around, facing the screen. Tim throws a quick glance at Damian, who had slid down on the couch so his head would not be in the reflection anymore. Tim sees the cold, warning hint to his eye, a clear do not speak of it message.
Tim doesn't like that the mirror is now behind him.
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notthestarwar · 1 year ago
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so best i can figure the reason that the formatting on my long posts keeps getting messed up is that tumblr will either show the formatting as you wrote it, on desktop OR on the app but not both
and then to make things even more complicated, depending on how you are visiting the post (dash/tags/individual post/directly on a blog with theme/just the post but on the actual blog with its theme) also makes a difference???
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