#I doubt you were referring to the movies somehow.

[wouldtheybecomeafearavatar]

Would Annabeth Chase[Daughter of Athena] from Percy Jackson and the Olympians become an avatar of The Eye?

[mcrdvcks]

Oblivious, Baby, Oblivious

Summary: People would tell you that geniuses don't know everything, but you tell them that defeats the purpose of the word. Until one day you're proven wrong.

Word Count: 17.4k+

Pairing: Logan (X-Men) x fem!reader

Notes: i came up with this idea a few days ago and had to write it down. basically reader is a genius and her mutation is controlling nature (her code name is 'flora' but it's not used often. and yes, it's a winx club reference, sue me)

i tried to make it as inclusive as i could, but i'm still learning since this is only my second reader fic.

i would like to turn this into a oneshot series, so don't be afraid to send in any requests!

warnings: few uses of y/n, logan uses a lot of pet names for reader, slight innocent!reader

You had only been at the X-Mansion for a year and yet all the students seemed to love you. At first, you thought that no teenager would want to come out to the large greenhouse you had set up, but you were proven wrong.

At the end of every day, right before dinner, dozens of kids would come out and help you water the plants and pull out the weeds.

It was certainly not what you expected to do after college, especially after only having your PhD’s for 2 years. It had all started when you met Hank McCoy at a science conference in New York City. You had graduated a mere few weeks ago and were out trying to network when you met him.

After that, Hank took you to meet Charles Xavier and he offered you a two-sided job, teach a few classes and be part of the X-Men, after you went through some training. You didn’t know how to fight at the beginning, but now you think you’ve got the hang of it.

You had just finished teaching your advanced physics class, standing at your desk gathering up the papers before going to your office to grade them, when someone knocked on the open classroom door.

Logan stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, with that usual smirk tugging at his lips. “You done for the day, sweetheart?”

You looked up from the pile of papers, surprised to see him there, though you probably shouldn’t have been. Logan had this way of showing up whenever you least expected it, always with some sort of pet name that left your students giggling.

When you first arrived at the school and started your training, it was Logan and Ororo who helped you learn how to fight. You certainly were not on a level like Logan, but you now knew how to hold your own without completely relying on your powers.

Logan was probably the one you were closest to at the mansion, save for Ororo and Jean. You enjoyed his company, even in the late nights when you would tend to the plants and he would stand quietly nearby smoking a cigar.

“Just about,” you replied, straightening the stack. “I was going to head to my office and grade these. Why? You need something?”

Logan pushed himself off the doorframe and sauntered toward you, his boots thudding lightly against the floor. “Can’t a guy just drop by and check in on ya?”

You rolled your eyes, a smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. “I guess, but somehow I doubt you’re just here to ‘check in.’” You shuffled the papers into a neat stack, slipping them into a folder. “So, what’s up?”

Logan shrugged, hands now in his jacket pockets as he stood a few feet away from your desk. “You’ve been buried in books and papers all week. Thought you could use a break.”

You raised an eyebrow. “I’ll be done grading these in like an hour. It doesn’t take me long. Unlike someone else.”

Logan snorted, a small smile forming as he tilted his head at you. "Yeah, well, not all of us have two fancy PhDs and can finish things in a blink, darlin’."

You laughed softly, putting the papers into your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “You’re just mad because I keep proving I’m right.” You rounded your desk, smirking. “Plus, I’m having a movie night with Jean and Ororo. See? I can take breaks.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile as he leaned in just a little, casting you that knowing look he always had when he was teasing you. “Movie night, huh? Lemme guess—something boring and science-y?”

You scoffed, shaking your head as you zipped up your bag. “Not every movie night is a science documentary, Logan.”

“Mmhmm,” he replied, the teasing drawl in his voice making it clear he didn’t believe you for a second. “So, what are you watchin’, then? Some quantum physics thriller?”

You rolled your eyes, grinning. “It’s The Princess Diaries this time, actually. But I do like documentaries, so don’t knock them.”

Logan chuckled, the sound low and deep, and for a moment it made you forget the pile of grading still waiting for you. “I’ll let it slide this time, darlin’. But if I hear you talkin’ about how accurate the physics are in some movie during your ‘break,’ I’m dragging you out of that mansion myself.”

You gave him a mock-serious look. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” he shot back, his smirk widening. “And we both know I could.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but he wasn’t wrong. Logan had a way of just picking you up—literally—and dragging you away when he thought you’d been working too hard. Sometimes you suspected he enjoyed it a little too much.

Before you could retort, Logan's expression softened slightly. “Look, Y/N, I’m serious. You’ve been bustin’ your ass all week. Go take a real break tonight, will ya?”

There it was again. That rare softness he showed only to you, like the tough exterior melted away for just a second. You never really knew how to respond when he got like that, so you shrugged casually and smiled. “I’ll take it easy tonight. Promise.”

“Good,” he said, his voice gruff but warm. “’Cause I don’t wanna hear about you passin’ out from exhaustion or whatever it is geniuses do when they work themselves to death.”

You walked to the door and turned back to face him, “Einstein slept 10 hours during the night and took regular naps.” You gave him a wink and walked down the hall towards your office, a satisfied smirk on your face.

Logan watched you disappear down the hallway, shaking his head with a faint smile. He wasn't sure when it started, but something about your energy, the way you threw yourself into everything—whether it was the students, your research, or even the X-Men's missions—had caught his attention. And now, it was hard to get you out of his head, let alone his senses.

He could always tell when you were nearby or recently in an area—your perfume was inherently you, mango with an undercurrent of something woodsy. And you always looked cute, a word Logan thought he’d never use. You constantly wore colors, usually pastels in varying shades, whether it be a shirt, your shoes, or even accessories in your hair. It was almost ridiculous how someone with two PhDs and the kind of brain that could out-think just about everyone around her could be so oblivious to certain things.

And that was why he found you so fascinating.

You were brilliant, no doubt about it—always talking about equations, theories, and whatever else you’d been reading about. But somehow, you never seemed to notice when he was flirting with you, which had become Logan's new favorite game. He knew exactly what he was doing when he called you varying nicknames.

It wasn’t like it was a secret either; pretty much everyone at the mansion had picked up on it. Hell, even the students were in on it, giggling whenever Logan tossed a pet name your way or gave you one of those half-smirks that drove everyone else insane.

Everyone except you, apparently.

You walked down the hall, completely unaware of the looks you were getting, or the fact that Logan’s eyes lingered a bit longer than they should have as you disappeared around the corner. Shaking his head, he let out a low chuckle before heading toward the garage. Maybe a ride on his bike would clear his head, though it probably wouldn’t. You had a way of sticking in his mind, even when you weren’t around.

---

Later that night, you were sprawled on the couch in one of the common rooms, sandwiched between Jean and Ororo as the three of you laughed at the antics on screen. The Princess Diaries was playing, and though you’d seen it a dozen times, it never failed to make you laugh.

You had your hair tied up and off your neck, and you were dressed in one of your usual casual outfits—leggings and an oversized hoodie that probably belonged to one of the guys in the mansion, though you couldn’t remember who. Logan’s scent faintly lingered on it, but you didn't think much of it.

You shifted comfortably, pulling your legs up to curl under you as Jean and Ororo sat on either side, each of you clutching bowls of popcorn and laughing at the antics in The Princess Diaries.

“I still don’t get how a movie about a teenager becoming a princess is this funny,” Jean said, shaking her head as she stuffed another handful of popcorn into her mouth. “Like, shouldn’t it be cheesy?”

“It is cheesy,” you countered, laughing as Mia slipped and fell in the movie. “But it’s good cheesy. There’s a difference.”

Ororo chuckled, glancing at you with an amused smile. “You’ve seen this how many times now?”

“Don’t judge me,” you teased, tossing a piece of popcorn in her direction, which she easily swatted away with a smirk. “This is a classic.”

Jean raised an eyebrow, giving you a playful nudge. “More classic than, say, 2001: A Space Odyssey? That seems more your speed.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “Not every movie I watch has to be some cerebral masterpiece, Jean.”

Ororo smiled knowingly. “Mmm, true, but you’re always spouting off facts about space or physics during random moments in these movies.”

“That’s because science is everywhere!” you replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You can’t not notice when something’s wrong.”

Jean grinned. “Like that time you paused Star Wars just to give us a lecture on how light speed doesn’t work like that?”

You huffed a laugh. “Well, it doesn’t. It’s all—”

“Science, we know,” Ororo finished, sharing a look with Jean that made you roll your eyes again.

“Okay, okay,” you conceded, holding up your hands. “I’ll try not to nerd out tonight.”

“That’s all we ask,” Jean said, smirking as she leaned back on the couch, throwing a kernel of popcorn into her mouth.

For the next hour or so, the three of you watched the movie without incident, though you had to bite your tongue more than once. A promise was a promise, after all.

When the movie ended, Ororo stretched and got up from the couch. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. I’ve got an early class tomorrow.”

“Same,” Jean said, standing and offering you a soft smile.

“Guess I’ll get ready for bed too, then.” You replied. Each of you headed to your rooms, Jean shared one with Scott down the hall from you, and Ororo’s room was close by theirs.

Your room was full of plants, small vines on the walls and windowsills, along with potted flowers across the room. It had been habit ever since you learned about your powers to always be surrounded by them, it gave you a sense of peace.

Taking off your clothes you got into the shower, where more plants were, including a rhaphidophora tetrasperma and a maidenhair fern.

You smiled to yourself, relishing the small oasis you’d created in your bathroom. The plants thrived in here, the humidity of your showers mimicking their natural habitat. It was a simple pleasure to see something flourish under your care, which was probably why you always surrounded yourself with greenery.

You rinsed off, the water now lukewarm as it cascaded over you, and turned the shower off. Wrapping a towel around yourself, you stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin as you moved toward the mirror. You wiped a hand across the fogged glass, revealing your reflection. You took off your shower cap, letting your hair free from its constraints.

There was a faint knock at your door, and you glanced toward it, frowning. Who would be knocking at this hour?

“Y/N?” Logan’s voice came from the other side. “You still awake?”

Your eyes widened slightly. What was Logan doing here? You quickly pulled on some comfortable clothes—an oversized t-shirt and shorts—before cracking the door open to find Logan leaning against the frame, his usual smirk in place.

“Logan? It’s kind of late. What’s up?” you asked, holding the door open just enough for him to see you but not enough to fully invite him in.

He shrugged, his eyes briefly scanning you before locking on yours. “Came by to see if you wanted to take a walk. Figured you might still be awake.”

You blinked, taken aback. “A walk? Now?”

“Yeah,” he replied casually, as if asking you to go for a walk at nearly midnight was the most normal thing in the world. “You’re always sayin’ how you like the way the plants look at night. Thought maybe you’d want some fresh air.”

You hesitated for a moment, considering his offer. You had planned on heading to bed soon, but you couldn’t deny the appeal of a nighttime walk—especially with Logan. The mansion grounds were peaceful at this hour, and the idea of walking among the moonlit flowers sounded tempting.

“Alright,” you said, pushing the door open the rest of the way. “Let me put on some shoes.”

Logan nodded, leaning back against the doorframe as he waited, his arms crossing over his chest. You slipped on a pair of sneakers, quickly tying the laces.

“Ready,” you said, adjusting your shirt and stepping out into the hallway.

Logan pushed off the frame and started walking beside you, his steps easy and casual. The mansion was quiet, most of the students already asleep, and you could hear the soft hum of night settling in as you both made your way outside. The cool air greeted you as you stepped into the garden, and you couldn’t help but smile as the scent of flowers and earth filled your senses.

“So,” Logan said after a moment, his hands sliding into his jacket pockets, “how was the movie?”

You smiled, glancing at him. “It was good. A classic, really.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Jean and Ororo didn’t give you a hard time?”

You chuckled. “Well, they did try to poke fun at my love for science, but nothing too bad. It was all in good fun.”

Logan smirked. “Yeah, they like to tease. Just means they’re comfortable around ya.”

You gave a small nod, your gaze shifting to the moonlit flowers around you. You loved the way the plants seemed to glow in the night, the way everything felt so peaceful at this hour. It was one of the reasons you often came out here at night when the mansion was quiet and still.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a while, the soft sounds of nature surrounding you. Logan didn’t say much, but that was one of the things you liked about him—he didn’t need to fill the air with pointless conversation. He was just… there, steady and solid, like the trees you so loved to be around.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, taking in his relaxed posture, the way his jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and the ever-present smirk tugging at his lips. You wondered briefly what he thought of these walks. He always seemed to show up at the right moments, offering his company when you needed it most, even if you didn’t realize you needed it at the time.

“So, Logan,” you started, your voice casual as you glanced at a cluster of moonlit lilies, “what’s the real reason you wanted to walk tonight? I know you didn’t just suddenly decide to take in the scenery.”

He chuckled, low and deep, as he shifted his gaze to the path ahead. “Maybe I like the scenery more than I let on.”

“Right,” you teased, arching an eyebrow. “Because I’ve definitely seen you out here admiring the roses before.”

“Who says I’m talkin’ about the roses, sweetheart?”

You rolled your eyes, though a faint smile played at your lips. “Uh-huh. Keep dreaming, Logan.”

There was that playful glint in his eyes again, the one you’d grown used to but never quite understood. He always had this way of teasing you—soft, subtle comments that seemed to amuse him more than anything else. It wasn’t like you minded, though. You liked the banter, even if you never quite knew why he seemed to engage in it with you so much.

You gave him a sidelong glance, but Logan’s expression remained as it usually did—a little cocky, a little mysterious, his hands resting casually in his jacket pockets as he walked alongside you. The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting dappled shadows across the path, and you found your gaze drifting back to the flowers blooming in the gardens. The peace of the night wrapped around you like a soft blanket, and for a moment, you almost forgot Logan was there.

“Y’know,” Logan said after a stretch of silence, his voice low and lazy, “you really are a mystery, sweetheart.”

You blinked, turning to him with a slight frown. “What do you mean by that?”

Logan shrugged, his eyes briefly flicking to yours before looking ahead again. “You’re this genius, right? Got two PhDs, can out-think just about anyone in the room. But sometimes… you’re completely clueless.”

You scoffed, giving him an incredulous look. “Clueless? Me? I don’t think that’s possible.”

A low chuckle rumbled from his chest, and he shook his head, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that teasing smile. “Yeah, darlin’. Clueless. You know a hell of a lot about a lot of things, but when it comes to readin’ people? Not so much.”

Your frown deepened. “I think I read people just fine, Logan.”

He stopped walking then, turning to face you with a glint of amusement in his eyes. “Oh, do ya?”

“Yeah,” you insisted, crossing your arms over your chest. “I spend a lot of time around people. I know how to pick up on things.”

Logan’s smile widened, like he was holding back laughter. “Is that so?”

You narrowed your eyes at him, confused by the sudden shift in conversation. “Yes, that’s so. What are you getting at?”

Logan’s grin widened as he saw you narrow your eyes, your arms crossed in clear frustration. There was something about how easily he could rile you up, how your normally sharp mind would stumble whenever he teased you, that made him enjoy these moments even more.

“You’re dodging the question,” you pressed, sensing that his silence was deliberate. “What are you getting at?”

Logan shrugged nonchalantly, leaning against the nearest tree, his usual smirk in place. “I’m just sayin’, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius, you don’t always see what’s right in front of you.”

You let out a huff, clearly not satisfied with his answer. “I see everything just fine, Logan. You’re not exactly subtle, you know.”

“Subtle, huh?” Logan echoed, his grin softening into a more thoughtful expression. “Maybe I’m not. Or maybe you’re just a little too focused on the wrong things.”

You stared at him, waiting for him to elaborate, but as usual, Logan didn’t offer anything more. He simply stood there, his eyes watching you carefully, as if enjoying the little mystery he’d planted in your mind. You could practically see the amusement dancing behind his gaze.

“This is just another one of your games, isn’t it?” you muttered, though there was no real bite in your tone. “You like keeping me guessing.”

“Maybe,” he said with a wink. “Keeps things interestin’, don’t ya think?”

You rolled your eyes again, turning away from him as you started walking down the path. You weren’t going to let him keep you on edge like this. You had better things to think about than whatever half-assed answer Logan was playing at tonight.

Logan fell into step beside you, his hands tucked back into his pockets. The two of you walked in silence for a bit longer, and despite the earlier tension, you found yourself relaxing once more. The garden was quiet, the night cool and calm. Logan’s presence, as always, was steady beside you, even if he did like to mess with your head sometimes.

“You know,” you began after a while, your voice softer now, “just because I’m a genius doesn’t mean I’m completely oblivious to people. I do pick up on things.”

Logan shot you a sideways glance, that infuriating smirk back on his face. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

“I’m serious!” you insisted, though a smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. “I just… maybe I’m not as concerned with people’s motives as much as I am with facts and data. It’s different.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s part of the problem, doll. You think you can figure out everything like it’s a puzzle. But people? We’re a little more complicated than that.”

You tilted your head, thinking about that. “I don’t see why it has to be complicated. People say what they mean, don’t they?”

Logan paused for a moment, his smirk turning into something more thoughtful. “Not always.”

There was a heaviness in his voice that made you glance up at him, but before you could ask what he meant, he turned his head away, eyes focused on something in the distance. The moment passed, and Logan was back to his usual self, his grin in place as if nothing had happened.

“Anyway,” he said, changing the subject, “how’s your latest project goin’? Still messing with those gadgets?”

You sighed, the shift in conversation allowing you to relax again. “Yeah, still working on a few prototypes. Hank’s been helping me out with some of the materials, but we’re having trouble stabilizing the energy output.”

Logan nodded, listening with genuine interest. “Sounds like somethin’ you’ll figure out soon enough.”

“I hope so,” you said with a small smile. “But it’s been a little frustrating.”

“Not used to runnin’ into roadblocks, huh?” Logan teased.

“Not really,” you admitted, a touch of sheepishness in your tone. “I’m used to things coming together quickly once I have all the information. This one’s been… tricky.”

Logan gave a low hum of understanding. “That’s the thing about science, sweetheart. It ain’t always predictable.”

“Yeah, but I like predictability,” you said with a shrug. “It makes sense. People, on the other hand…”

Logan laughed at that, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. “I guess I can’t argue with that.”

The two of you continued your walk, the conversation drifting to lighter topics—projects, students at the mansion, the occasional prank pulled by one of the younger mutants. You liked how easy it was to talk to Logan, even when he teased you or left you hanging on a thought. He was always there, listening, offering his dry commentary when it was needed.

As you walked, you found yourself glancing at him every now and then, taking in the way the moonlight caught his features, the rough stubble on his jaw, the confident way he carried himself. You didn’t understand why he spent so much time around you, especially when he had no trouble being alone or doing his own thing. Logan didn’t seem like the type to go out of his way for someone, and yet… here he was.

“Logan?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

“Yeah?” he replied, his gaze shifting to you.

“Why do you do this?”

He frowned, genuinely confused. “Do what?”

“Walk with me. Spend time with me. You’re not exactly the most sociable guy around here.”

Logan gave a low chuckle, his eyes softening as he looked at you. “Maybe I like your company, sweetheart. Ever think of that?”

You blinked, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. It wasn’t like Logan to be so direct about… feelings. You weren’t sure how to respond, so you simply looked away, feeling a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks.

“I guess I never really thought about it,” you admitted after a moment.

Logan’s smirk returned, but there was something softer behind it this time. “That’s ‘cause you’re too busy thinkin’ about everythin’ else, doll.”

You didn’t respond right away, still processing his words. Logan wasn’t one to lay things out so plainly, but when he did, it always seemed to catch you off guard. He had this way of making you question things—yourself, your understanding of the world—without ever really giving you any answers. It was frustrating, but at the same time, it was… endearing.

As the two of you walked back toward the mansion, the quiet settling over you once more, you couldn’t help but wonder what Logan had meant earlier. About you being ‘clueless.’ It wasn’t like you didn’t notice things—sure, people had their layers, but you weren’t blind to them. So what was he talking about?

---

The next morning, you were back in your usual routine—teaching classes, working in the greenhouse, and helping the students with their studies. It was a busy day, but you didn’t mind. The students were eager to learn, and you found a sense of satisfaction in watching them grow and develop their skills.

After your last class, you made your way to the greenhouse, your favorite part of the day. The students had already watered the plants earlier, so you spent some time pruning and checking on the growth of the flowers and vegetables.

The sound of footsteps approaching caught your attention, and you turned to see Logan leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest, a smirk playing on his lips.

“Didn’t expect to see you here,” you said, glancing up from the plant you were tending to.

Logan shrugged. “Figured I’d stop by. See how you’re doin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at your lips. “You checking up on me again?”

He chuckled. “Someone’s gotta keep an eye on ya, sweetheart.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you turned back to your plants. “I’m fine, Logan. Really.”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his voice closer now. You glanced over your shoulder to see him standing just a few feet away, watching you with that same unreadable expression he always seemed to have around you. “But it doesn’t hurt to check in every now and then.”

Logan looked over at a large strawberry plant in the corner, it seemed to have a lot of yield, bright red strawberries hanging from the branches.

“You ever try a strawberry with no pesticides?” You asked, standing up from the ground and taking off your gloves. You looked around the plant before pulling what you thought looked to be the best of the bunch, holding it out for him. Since it was August, the strawberries were soon going to go out of season, so this was the last good batch you were going to get.

Logan raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly as he eyed the fruit in your hand. "I’ve had my share of wild strawberries, sweetheart, but never from your garden.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to him with the strawberry still outstretched. “Wild strawberries? Really, Logan? This is organic, homegrown perfection. Totally different experience.”

He chuckled, finally taking the strawberry from you, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief second. It was so brief you didn’t think much of it, but Logan’s smirk softened into something more genuine as he popped the strawberry into his mouth.

“Well?” you asked, watching him expectantly. “What do you think?”

Logan chewed slowly, his eyes not leaving yours. “Sweet,” he finally said, his voice low. “Real sweet.”

You smiled, pleased with his answer, though you didn’t quite catch the way his gaze lingered on you as he said it. “Told you,” you said, turning back to the plant to grab a strawberry for yourself. “Fresh strawberries are unbeatable.”

He leaned back slightly, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched you take a bite. “You take real pride in this, don’t ya?”

“Of course,” you said, glancing at him between bites. “There’s something rewarding about growing things. Watching them thrive under the right conditions. It’s like… I don’t know, creating life.”

Logan’s eyes softened as he listened to you talk, his smirk fading into something more thoughtful. “You care a lot about the little det- ” He was cut off by surprise, your thumb brushing the corner of his lips wiping off some of the strawberry juice.

You seemed to not think much about it, nor did you notice Logan’s heart sped up with your simple touch. It was over quick, you let out a soft gasp and walked behind him, looking up at a vine at the top where you saw a few ripe kiwis.

You reached your palm out, focusing your energy on the vines at the top of the greenhouse. They shifted gently, as if responding to your silent command, dropping three ripe kiwis into your hand. You grinned, knowing Jean would appreciate the fresh fruit later. It wasn’t easy growing kiwis in New York, but your powers made up for the climate’s shortcomings. Nature seemed to bend to your will, a fact you took quiet pride in, even though you’d never flaunt it.

Meanwhile, Logan was still in slight shock from your gesture, he could almost feel the spot where your thumb brushed against him, almost as if it was the most natural thing in the world. And you did it without thinking, in fact, you still didn’t seem to notice him looking at your back as you picked a few bunches of basil.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t just the way you talked about plants or how your hands moved with skill and grace—it was you, completely unaware of how you affected him. Completely unaware that his heart rate had spiked at the smallest, most innocent touch.

“Something wrong?” you asked, not even turning around as you picked at the herbs.

Logan blinked, pulling himself out of his thoughts. “Nah, just... thinkin’. You’re somethin’, you know that?”

You gave a short laugh, pausing to glance back at him over your shoulder. “If that’s your way of saying I’m a genius again, I already know.”

He chuckled, moving to stand a bit closer. “That’s not exactly what I meant, sweetheart.” His voice was low, with that familiar gravelly tone he used when teasing you.

But as usual, the hint flew right past you. “Well, whatever it is, I’ll take it as a compliment.” You plucked another handful of basil leaves, slipping them into a small basket on the bench. “And you should try to be more specific next time, Logan. It helps with communication.”

“Specific, huh?” Logan leaned a little against the workbench beside you, arms crossed. “Alright then, you’re smart, sure. But there’s more to it than that. You... you just do things without even thinking about it. Like earlier.” His eyes flickered briefly to your hand.

You frowned a little, confused. “Earlier? You mean the strawberry thing? Or when I wiped the juice off your face?”

“Yeah,” he said, grinning. “That.”

You blinked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal of it. “Logan, it was just strawberry juice. You looked like you were about to walk into a meeting with half a fruit smeared on your face.”

Logan let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Yeah, doll. I get that.” He watched as you turned back to your plants, completely oblivious to the fact that what had been a small, thoughtless gesture for you had stirred something deeper for him. He found it both amusing and frustrating—not in an annoying way, but in a way that made him want to get closer to you, to push the boundaries just a little more.

“So,” you said, shifting the subject as you snipped a bit more basil. “What’s got you wandering into the greenhouse today? It’s not exactly your usual haunt.”

Logan leaned back, watching you with those intense eyes of his. “Just felt like stoppin’ by. Spend some time with you. Ain’t that a good enough reason?”

You rolled your eyes, though your smile was genuine. “I suppose. It’s just... you don’t usually care about plants and stuff.”

“Well, maybe I’m changin’,” Logan said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You shook your head, laughing softly. “I’ll believe that when I see it.” You paused, glancing at him as you picked up a watering can. “So... you wanna help?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Me? Helpin’ with your garden?”

“Why not?” you asked, stepping closer to him. “You’ve got hands, don’t you? It’s not all that complicated.”

He chuckled, reaching out to take the watering can from you, brushing his fingers against yours for a second time. “Alright, sweetheart, show me how it’s done.”

You handed him the can and pointed to a row of lavender plants nearby. “Just give them a little water. Not too much though—they don’t like it when their roots get too wet.”

Logan followed your instructions with a kind of amused curiosity, watching as the water trickled from the can onto the plants. It wasn’t the kind of thing he normally found himself doing, but there was something about the simplicity of it, something about you, that made it... well, not so bad.

“You really know your stuff, don’t ya?” Logan remarked after a few moments, his voice carrying a hint of admiration.

“Well, yeah,” you said, turning to grab some tools from a nearby shelf. “I’ve been doing this for a while. Plus, it’s kind of in my wheelhouse, you know? With the whole ‘controlling nature’ thing.”

Logan smirked, setting the watering can down as he leaned against the bench again. “Yeah, I’ve seen you do some pretty wild things with those powers of yours. But you don’t talk about ‘em much.”

“I talk to them.” You said, hiding a grin from growing on your face.

“Really?” he asked, surprised.

You laughed as you stood up, throwing a few weeds in a separate basket. “No. I was joking!”

Logan let out a deep chuckle, shaking his head at you. “You got me there, sweetheart,” he said, still leaning against the bench, watching you with that ever-present smirk on his face.

You grabbed a nearby hose, turning the water on low to rinse your hands. "Can't believe you thought I was serious. I mean, I get along with plants, but I don’t have full-on conversations with them. That’d be weird."

"Wouldn't surprise me with you, doll," Logan replied, still watching you intently. "You seem to know what everything around here needs, even without talkin' to 'em."

You shrugged, drying your hands on a towel. "It’s just intuition, I guess. Plants give off signals if you know how to read them."

Logan gave you a long look, his smirk softening into something almost affectionate, though you didn’t notice. "You sure it's just the plants you read that well?"

You looked up at him, confused for a second, but quickly shook your head, dismissing his comment. "Are you gonna keep talking, or are you actually going to help me?”

Logan pushed himself off the bench, standing up straight. "Alright, alright. Where do you want me, doll?"

You handed him the basket full of weeds, “throw them out.”

He raised an eyebrow, “that’s it?”

You handed Logan the basket of weeds, his hand brushing against yours for the third time today. He smirked slightly, but you, as usual, were completely unaware of the subtle tension.

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed in response to his earlier question, balancing two baskets filled with freshly picked fruits, vegetables, and herbs in your arms. “I’m gonna lock up and bring these inside.”

Logan didn’t move for a second, watching as you turned your back and headed toward the door, the sound of your footsteps echoing softly in the greenhouse. For someone so sharp, so brilliant, you seemed completely oblivious to the fact that he enjoyed these little moments with you.

That small, unspoken connection you two had—the one where you never quite seemed to notice that he was flirting with you—had started to become his favorite part of the day. Even if it had been going on for 8 months, and yes, he was counting.

As you reached for the lock on the greenhouse door, you glanced over your shoulder. “You’re still standing there, Logan. Are you gonna help or just watch me carry all this stuff by myself?”

Logan’s smirk widened. “Oh, I was just enjoyin' the view, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, missing the deeper meaning in his words, as usual. “Right. Well, the view can help me with these baskets if it’s not too busy.”

Logan chuckled softly, walking over to you and easily taking one of the baskets from your hands. “You got it, doll. I’ll lend a hand.”

Together, you made your way toward the mansion, the quiet of the late afternoon settling around you. It was peaceful, in that way you liked—just the sound of your footsteps on the gravel path, the faint rustle of leaves in the distance, and the low hum of the cicadas in the trees. Logan had quickly thrown away the weeds and rejoined you, taking the other basket out of your hand, saying something about how he was ‘being a gentleman.’

You both entered the mansion from the back door, making your way to the kitchen where Logan placed the baskets on the island. Jean and Scott were already in there, Jean making her way over to the two baskets.

You, having an inkling for what she was looking for, reached into one of the baskets and pulled out the 3 kiwis. You handed the kiwis over to Jean, a smile playing on your lips as she quickly clutched them to her chest, almost like they were gold. It wasn’t the first time she’d done this, and it always amused you. Scott, of course, tried to intervene, reaching out to snatch one, but Jean shot him a look that was part-serious, part-playful.

“Hey, those are for me,” she said, moving slightly to block Scott’s hand. “I’ve been waiting for these kiwis all week.”

Scott smirked but backed off, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I wouldn’t want to get on your bad side, babe.”

Jean gave him a victorious smile, then turned to you. “Thanks, Y/N. You always come through with the best fruit.”

“Of course,” you replied, wiping your hands on a nearby towel. “You’ve been asking for kiwis since the season started, so I figured it was about time I delivered.”

Logan, still standing nearby, watched the interaction with a subtle smirk on his face. He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, looking completely relaxed but attentive.

“You sure know how to make people happy, doll,” Logan said, his voice low but teasing. “Always goin’ above and beyond for everyone.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. “It’s just a few kiwis, Logan. Nothing special.”

Jean, now satisfied with her prized fruit, glanced between the two of you with a curious look, sensing something in Logan’s tone. She had noticed the way he’d been hanging around you more than usual lately, and it wasn’t hard to pick up on the little glances he threw your way when you weren’t looking. Of course, you remained blissfully unaware of it all, as always.

“You’re selling yourself short,” Jean said, throwing you a grin. “It’s not just the kiwis. You’ve practically turned the greenhouse into a mini-Eden. We all appreciate it, even if Scott can’t admit he’s jealous of my fruit.”

Scott rolled his eyes, but his smile betrayed him. “Yeah, yeah. Thanks for the garden, Y/N.���

You smiled at the compliment, though it didn’t feel like anything out of the ordinary to you. Taking care of the plants, helping out with the students, it was all part of your routine. You liked it that way—predictable, manageable. You didn’t dwell on the subtleties of interpersonal dynamics the way others seemed to.

Logan’s smirk widened slightly at Jean’s comment, but he kept quiet, watching you interact with the others. There was something about the way you brushed off compliments so easily, like you didn’t quite grasp how much people appreciated you around here.

You had already put a few strawberries in a glass bowl, making your way out of the kitchen to Ororo’s office without saying a word, something they were already used to.

“You sure you’re not going to say anything? You know, that’s actually straight to the point?” Jean asked Logan.

Scott reached into one of the baskets, pulling out a few blueberries, “at this point, you’re like a love-sick puppy following her around.”

Logan let out a low growl, plucking a strawberry out from the basket. “Keep talking dickhead.” He threatened.

Jean raised an eyebrow as she leaned against the counter, her sharp eyes flicking between Logan and Scott. "He’s not wrong though, Logan. You’ve been spending more time with Y/N than usual. We’ve all noticed."

Logan grunted, pushing himself off the counter and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. "She’s a good kid. Someone’s gotta keep an eye on her."

Scott smirked, leaning back in his chair. "Right, keepin' an eye on her. That's what we’re calling it now?"

Jean shot Scott a playful glare, but her attention quickly shifted back to Logan. “You know, you could just tell her how you feel. She’s oblivious, but she’s not stupid. Sooner or later, she’s going to notice.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, and he glanced toward the door where you had just left. His emotions were complicated—he’d never been one for opening up, and the idea of confessing anything, especially something as vulnerable as his feelings for you, wasn’t exactly in his comfort zone. He had been through too much, lost too many people, and the thought of letting himself get close to someone again... well, it scared him more than he cared to admit.

“She’s got her own life,” Logan muttered, his voice gruff but softer now. “I ain’t lookin’ to mess that up.”

Jean sighed, walking over to stand next to Logan, her tone gentle but firm. “Logan, you’re not messing anything up. In fact, I think you’d be adding something important to her life. She’s not the type to see you as a burden or a distraction. She probably wouldn’t even realize you were flirting with her until you hit her over the head with it.”

Logan huffed a half-hearted laugh, but the tension in his shoulders remained. “Maybe that’s the problem. She’s too damn focused on other stuff to even see it.”

Jean smiled softly, placing a hand on Logan’s arm. “That’s what makes her so special, Logan. She’s genuine, selfless, and probably the least manipulative person in this mansion. She doesn’t play games—what you see is what you get. And she likes you, even if she doesn’t realize it in the same way you do yet.”

Scott, still lounging in his chair, added, “Plus, you know, if you wait too long, someone else might catch her eye. Just sayin’.”

Logan shot Scott a glare that could have melted steel. “Ain’t nobody else gonna catch her eye, Summers. Trust me on that.”

Jean chuckled softly, giving Logan’s arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Well, when you’re ready, just remember—it’s okay to take a chance on her. You might be surprised by how things turn out.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, his mind already spinning with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated Jean’s support, but the fear of rejection, of losing someone else important to him, gnawed at his insides. He wasn’t sure if he could handle it again. And what if telling you how he felt ruined the easy, comfortable dynamic you two had? What if he lost the one person in the mansion who treated him like a normal man instead of a gruff, dangerous mutant?

Jean and Scott exchanged a knowing glance, but they let Logan mull over his thoughts in silence. They could push him only so far before it was up to him to take the next step.

---

You were walking down the halls with your bag in over your shoulder, all you needed to do was get to your office and take these heels off.

They looked cute online, not too tall or high, had some cushion on the soles, but wearing them was a completely different story. Which was sad because they were a cute baby pink which went well with your button up baby pink cardigan and white jeans.

But your office seemed so far away with the stabbing pain in your feet, luckily the halls were empty since most of the students were in their rooms doing homework or relaxing before dinner.

Having enough of the pain, you crouched down to unbuckle your heels, your bag moving down your shoulder to your elbow.

“Need any help, princess?”

You looked up at the sound of the voice, even though you knew exactly who it was.

Logan stood there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. His eyes flicked down to your shoes before meeting your gaze again, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Need any help, princess?” His voice was low and casual, but that nickname—'princess’—it was just one of the many he’d taken to using when he spoke to you. Although you hadn’t heard this one before.

You shifted your bag back up on your shoulder and continued unbuckling the second heel. “I’ve got it, thanks,” you replied, not thinking too much of his presence. You’d known Logan long enough to realize he had a habit of showing up when you least expected him to.

He made a small grunt, as if to say ‘suit yourself,’ and watched as you continued to try and unbuckle the second one, but it looked like the strap was giving you a hard time.

Logan kneeled down in front of you without a word as you moved your hands away. You were smart enough to know that you weren’t exactly in the best position to unbuckle your heels, you usually did it when you were sitting down, not crouching in the middle of a hallway.

He easily unbuckled it and helped you slip out of the heels, your feet hitting the cool floor. You mumbled a thanks as his hand trailed up your calf with a feather light touch before standing up. Your heels were in one of his hands as he easily picked you up with one arm, carrying you bridal style.

You let out a small shriek of surprise, your arms instinctively going around Logan’s neck as he scooped you up with one arm, heels dangling from his other hand.

"Hey! I can walk!" you protested, more flustered than anything else. You were completely capable of walking, sore feet or not, but now you were cradled in Logan’s arms like a princess in some old fairy tale.

Logan's smirk widened, clearly enjoying your reaction. "Not fast enough, sweetheart," he teased, carrying you effortlessly down the hall. His voice was deep, a hint of amusement in his tone, and it made your cheeks heat up slightly, though you quickly tried to brush it off.

You rolled your eyes, not really sure how to argue back. "I’m pretty sure this is unnecessary," you muttered, though your voice didn’t sound all that convincing even to you.

"Necessary or not, you're gonna let me carry you," he shot back, glancing down at you with a playful gleam in his eye. "Besides, I don’t mind."

You huffed in mock defiance, but you didn’t exactly push him to put you down either. In fact, being carried by Logan felt…nice. Comfortable, even. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud. And it certainly wasn’t the first time he’d done this.

As the two of you continued down the hallway, you couldn’t help but notice the way his grip was firm but gentle, his arms strong and steady. It wasn’t the first time you’d seen how built he was, but somehow, it always seemed to surprise you.

"You know, this could’ve been avoided if I’d just worn normal shoes," you grumbled, trying to distract yourself from the way your heart was beating a little too fast.

Logan chuckled softly, that gravelly sound that always seemed to resonate in your chest. "Doll, I’ve seen you rock combat boots and still look like you’re ready for a photoshoot. But those heels…" He raised an eyebrow at the pink shoes still in his hand. "Yeah, maybe not your best choice."

You frowned slightly, glancing at the heels. "They looked good online…"

He grinned, amused. "You got catfished by shoes?"

"I didn’t get catfished!" you retorted, though you couldn’t help but laugh. "They’re cute! Just not comfortable."

Logan made a noncommittal sound, clearly not convinced by your argument. But he didn’t press it further, instead shifting you slightly in his arms as he approached your office door.

"Want me to break down the door for you, too, princess? Or can you manage the key?" he asked with a teasing glint in his eyes, looking down at you like you were some helpless damsel.

"I’ve got it," you replied quickly, reaching into your bag for your keys. "And stop calling me princess." The nickname felt weird, it made your heart beat faster and you skin flush more than the other nicknames he called you.

But Logan just smirked, clearly unbothered. "Sure thing, sweetheart."

You couldn’t stop the little sigh that escaped you as you unlocked the door and pushed it open. Logan stepped inside, gently setting you down on your feet.

As soon as you were standing, you felt the cool air against your now bare feet, and it was an instant relief from the torture those heels had put you through. You moved to put your heels down by your desk, but Logan still had them in his hand.

"You know I can take those now," you said, holding out your hand expectantly.

Logan eyed the heels for a moment, then handed them over. "You really should burn 'em, doll," he said in that same teasing tone, watching you place them on the floor.

"I’m not burning them," you replied, shaking your head. "They’re not that bad. I just…need to break them in."

Logan crossed his arms, leaning against the doorframe now, watching you with that amused smirk still playing on his lips. "Or you could just stick to boots."

"Maybe I like being fashionable sometimes," you shot back, raising an eyebrow at him as you plopped down into your office chair. Your fingers brushed your hair back from your face, and you let out a small, satisfied sigh now that you were sitting down.

"Fashionable, sure," Logan said, his voice a low rumble. "But at what cost?"

You shot him a look but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. It was hard to stay annoyed when Logan was like this—playful, relaxed, his rough edges softened just enough to make you feel like he actually cared.

"Anyway, shouldn’t you be out doing something more...Logan-like?" you asked, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing over your chest.

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"I don't know, brooding? Scowling at someone?"

His lips twitched, clearly suppressing a smirk. "Maybe I’m just waiting for you to ask me to carry you again."

You rolled your eyes, fighting the warmth creeping into your cheeks. "Yeah, well, don’t hold your breath."

He chuckled, that deep, gravelly sound filling the small office. He didn’t say anything after that, just leaned against the door, arms crossed as he watched you settle in. The silence was comfortable, but it made you hyperaware of him—of the way his presence seemed to take up more space than it should.

You busied yourself with pulling out some notes from your bag, pretending you weren’t fully aware of how Logan’s eyes followed your every movement. It was strange, but also kind of…nice? Logan wasn’t like other guys. He wasn’t intimidated by your intelligence or the fact that you could talk circles around most people in the room. In fact, he seemed to like it, even if he teased you about it sometimes.

"Alright, well, thanks for the…uh, assistance," you said, breaking the silence and giving him a small, awkward smile. "I think I’m good now."

Logan didn’t move right away. His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he pushed himself off the doorframe. "Anytime, sweetheart."

And with that, he turned and walked out of your office, leaving you with your thoughts—and the faintest trace of a smirk on your face.

---

Every so often, you would have a baking day to use up some of the fruits efficiently. Some of the students would join you in the large kitchen, doing their best to help you by carefully following your instructions.

Some of them, particularly the older ones, would cut up some of the fruit, like strawberries, apples, and peaches. The others would measure the ingredients and put them in a mixing bowl before combining it all together to make a dough.

This time, you were striving to make a few blueberry pies, a large dish of peach cobbler, apple strudels, and some strawberry puff pastries.

Baking was something you enjoyed, but never really did in college. You usually were busier with labs and theses rather than cooking or baking. You practically lived off take out and dining hall food. But since you’ve been here for the past year, you’ve already held 4 sessions, including this one.

“Careful with those strawberries,” you said to a student named Ben, who was chopping up the fruit with a little too much enthusiasm. “We need them in slices, not chunks.”

“Sorry, Y/N,” he mumbled, quickly adjusting his technique.

You smiled softly and moved to check on the other group, who were working on the dough for the pies. A girl named Emily was measuring out the flour, carefully following the recipe you’d written down.

"How’s it going over here?" you asked, watching as she sifted the flour into a bowl.

“Good, I think,” Emily said, glancing up at you nervously. “Is this enough?”

You nodded. "Looks perfect. Just remember to mix it slowly so the flour doesn’t go everywhere."

Emily gave you a grateful smile before continuing her work. You loved these baking sessions. It was a great way to bond with the students and also let them explore a more creative side outside of their classes. Plus, it gave you a break from the constant intellectual challenges of your usual work.

Logan wandered into the kitchen a little while later, casually leaning against the doorframe as he watched the controlled chaos. Ororo and Jean were already in the kitchen, watching from the sidelines nursing a glass of a bubbly pink drink.

He couldn’t help but think about how pretty you looked, you were wearing a pastel purple sundress with a light green apron with vines and flowers embroidered on it.

The sight made him smirk—something about you baking in a kitchen full of teenagers, in your floral apron, amused him. It was such a stark contrast to your usual intellectual, no-nonsense attitude.

“Whatcha got cookin’, sweetheart?” Logan’s gruff voice broke the bustling sounds of mixing and chopping.

You didn’t glance up, too focused on guiding Emily through making the pie dough. "Just baking some pies and pastries. Using up the leftover fruit. Do you want some?" you asked casually, not thinking too much about the fact that Logan was watching you.

Logan shrugged, stepping further into the kitchen. “Depends. Is it any good?”

You finally looked up, raising an eyebrow at him. “You doubt my baking skills?”

He chuckled lowly, leaning against the counter now, close enough to see what you were working on. “Wouldn’t call it doubt, doll. Just curious.”

You gave him a small smirk, hands moving skillfully as you finished helping Emily measure the remaining ingredients. "You’ll have to wait until they’re done to find out."

One of the students, Ben, interrupted, grinning as he wiped flour off his hands. "Y/N’s baking is the best! She made these strawberry scones last time—they were gone in like ten minutes."

Logan raised an eyebrow, giving you a teasing glance. "Impressive, princess. Maybe I will stick around."

You rolled your eyes at the nickname but didn’t comment. Instead, you turned back to Emily, helping her roll out the dough. It wasn’t that you didn’t notice Logan's teasing, it was just that you didn’t think much of it. Guys didn’t usually flirt with you. At least not seriously. Most found your intelligence intimidating, or they simply saw you as ‘one of the guys.’ Logan’s pet names, in your mind, were just part of his rough-and-tumble personality, nothing more.

But Logan, on the other hand, found your obliviousness endearing. The fact that you didn’t seem to realize he was flirting with you only made him try harder, though he kept it casual enough not to push you away. He liked the challenge.

“You need any help?” Logan offered, gesturing toward the fruit Ben was chopping haphazardly.

“You’re not gonna burn the kitchen down?” you teased, wiping your hands on your apron before reaching for a bowl.

“I think I can handle it,” Logan said, a grin tugging at his lips.

You handed him a knife, showing him how to properly slice the strawberries. “Here, like this. We need them thin for the pastries.”

You held out the knife for him, and instead of coming up beside you like you assumed he would, he stood behind you, his chest against your back, practically caging you in between him and the counter.

He could hear your heart beat faster as he cut a few slices of the strawberry, asking, "That good enough for you, sweetheart?"

His voice was low, and you could feel his breath near your ear, but you were too focused on the task at hand to fully process the closeness. You glanced at the thinly sliced strawberries, nodding absentmindedly.

"Yeah, that’s perfect," you mumbled, moving slightly away to give yourself more room to breathe, though you didn’t realize why. "Just need a few more for the pastries."

Logan continued slicing, his movements precise, though his presence remained solid and grounding behind you. You were used to people standing close when you worked in the lab or in class—tight spaces, shared equipment, it came with the territory. But this was different. Logan’s proximity felt… intense in a way you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

"So, how long you been doin' this?" Logan asked casually, his voice breaking through your thoughts as he finished up with the strawberries.

You blinked, taking a second to register the question. "Baking? Oh, I don’t know… when I was a kid? I just started because it’s a nice break from… everything I guess.”

Jean and Ororo continued to drink their glass of champagne when Scott walked in, placing an arm around Jean’s waist as they watched the scene. “Think she’ll finally realize,” he asked.

Ororo gave a small grin and shrugged, “who knows? But Logan’s certainly getting bolder.”

Jean shook her head, “I told him to talk to her and say exactly what he was feeling, but turns out he still hasn’t taken my advice.”

Ororo chuckled as she took a slow sip of her drink, her gaze flicking back to the kitchen scene unfolding in front of them. "Well, you know Logan. Subtlety isn’t exactly his strong suit."

Scott smirked as he stood next to Jean, his arm still comfortably draped around her waist. "Yeah, but subtlety doesn’t seem to be the problem here," he said, eyes gleaming with amusement as he watched Logan hover around you. "He’s not exactly hiding it."

Ororo tilted her head, amused by how oblivious you remained despite Logan’s efforts. It wasn’t that you were unobservant; you were incredibly sharp—when it came to science, mechanics, and even battle tactics. But personal matters? Especially the ones involving yourself? Not so much.

"Poor girl," Ororo mused, shaking her head. "She’s a genius, but this…" She waved a hand in Logan’s direction. "This seems to be one thing she’s totally clueless about."

Jean smiled sympathetically. "She’s not used to people flirting with her. I mean, guys either get intimidated by her brain, or they just see her as a fellow intellectual, not… you know, a woman."

Ororo raised an eyebrow, her expression thoughtful. "Well, Logan clearly sees her as a woman. He’s made that much obvious. But I wonder how long it’ll take for her to figure it out."

Jean laughed softly. "At this rate? It might take a while."

The three of them watched with growing curiosity as Logan stood there, his broad shoulders and rough demeanor somehow fitting perfectly in the domestic scene of baking pastries with students. You, on the other hand, were entirely focused on getting the strawberry puff pastries just right, completely unaware of how closely Logan was watching you—or how he lingered longer than necessary when he handed you the knife, or how his teasing nicknames held a deeper meaning.

"She’s too smart for her own good," Scott added, shaking his head with a chuckle. "But when it comes to this, she's got blind spots."

Jean nodded in agreement. "Y/N is convinced she knows everything—and to be fair, she does know a lot—but she’s missing the whole picture here."

---

After Logan’s stunt on baking day, he wondered just how much further he could go. Sure, he could take Jean’s advice and outright tell you, but he also liked seeing you riled up and confused by his words and actions.

Like a few days ago, all he did was pull out your chair at dinner with the rest of the group and you just stood there, confused by the gesture. It took a few moments for you to understand and finally sit down before he pushed the chair closer to the table for you.

Or now, they were having a briefing, or meeting, about God knows what, most of everybody seated. You and Ororo were the last people to come in, aside from Charles. Ororo went to sit down at an open seat and as you looked around you came to the conclusion that there weren’t any other chairs available.

You were content with the fact that you were going to stand for the short meeting, as you found a spot to stand at the opposite end of the large round table, close to Logan.

“C’mere doll.” Logan said, lazily gesturing for you to come closer.

You hesitantly did, stopping next to his chair, your knee brushing his thigh. “What?”

He patted his thigh, “I don’t bite.”

Your eyes widened, a cute, innocent expression that he enjoyed seeing on your face, as you looked around the room. “I, uh- ”

Logan’s smirk widened, clearly finding your hesitation endearing. He patted his lap again, his eyes glinting with a teasing light. “C’mon, doll. Don’t be shy. There’s a perfectly good seat right here.”

You hesitated, your brain racing to process the situation. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for a professional setting, but you were running out of options. The only other seats were either taken or a bit too far from the discussion table. With a small sigh, you decided to give in. You didn’t want to stand for the entire meeting, and it was just one of those moments where you had to roll with it.

“Alright,” you said. You shot a glance around the room, but most people were already absorbed in their conversations or taking notes. You gingerly sat down on the edge of his lap, trying to maintain a sense of propriety despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Logan’s arm naturally wrapped around your waist to stabilize you, but he didn’t say anything as you settled. You could feel his warmth radiating through his leather jacket, and it was strangely comforting despite the unusual circumstances. He leaned in slightly, his breath tickling your ear as he whispered, “You alright there, sweetheart?”

You nodded, trying to focus on the meeting but acutely aware of how close he was. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, though you could feel your cheeks warming slightly. “Just trying to get comfortable.”

Logan chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through his chest and making you shift just a bit closer. His hand rested lightly on your hip, not too firm but enough to make you acutely aware of his presence. You tried to ignore it and concentrate on the meeting, but his proximity made that task rather difficult.

The meeting continued, with Charles and the others discussing various topics related to ongoing projects and missions. Logan’s hand on your hip was a constant reminder of his presence, but he remained quiet, only chiming in occasionally with his usual gruff comments or suggestions.

---

At breakfast one day, you were sitting with Hank talking about the project you two were working on that was finally getting somewhere. You had finally been able to stabilize the energy output and now you two were talking about what to do next.

Logan sipped his coffee, looking at your from afar. As always, you were dressed cute today. You were wearing a light blue sweater with a pair of your skinny jeans and white flats, paired with matching drop earrings.

Ororo and Jean came up beside him, the former tsking. Ororo gave Logan a knowing look, crossing her arms. "You still at it, huh?" she teased, nodding in your direction.

Logan grunted but didn't respond immediately, sipping his coffee as he watched you and Hank animatedly discuss your project. You were explaining something with such enthusiasm, using your hands to gesture wildly, that it made him smirk. The light blue sweater you wore today only added to the adorable vibe you unknowingly radiated.

Jean nudged him lightly. "Nine months, Logan. Nine months of flirting, and she’s still completely oblivious." She shook her head, amused.

"She’s a genius, remember?" Ororo said, raising an eyebrow. "She’s supposed to know everything."

Logan snorted, finally setting his coffee down. "Well, she clearly doesn’t know this. And I’m in no rush to tell her." He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. His eyes didn’t leave you, even as the conversation between Hank and you grew more intense.

Jean chuckled. "It's kinda cute, though. Watching her get all flustered whenever you call her those names, like she’s completely missing the point."

"I know," Logan muttered with a grin. "She gets that little furrow in her brow, like she’s trying to figure it out, but then brushes it off. She’s too wrapped up in all her fancy projects and theories."

Ororo shook her head in disbelief. "You’ve got the patience of a saint. Most people would’ve given up by now."

Logan shrugged, glancing at Ororo. "Ain’t in any hurry. She’s worth the wait."

Jean smiled softly at that, then sighed. "Well, good luck. Maybe one day she’ll actually catch on."

As if on cue, you let out a triumphant laugh from across the room, and Logan’s attention immediately shifted back to you. You had a bright smile on your face, clearly excited about whatever breakthrough you and Hank had just made.

"You’re like a moth to a flame," Ororo muttered under her breath with a smirk, walking off with Jean to sit down.

Logan ignored her, his eyes still locked on you as you gathered up some papers and started to walk toward the exit. As you passed him, he casually stuck his leg out just enough that you had to stop short to avoid tripping.

“Logan!” you exclaimed, looking down at his leg and then up at him with confusion.

He raised an eyebrow, taking another sip of his coffee. "Mornin', sweetheart."

You blinked at him, clearly thrown off for a moment. "Uh, morning." You shifted the stack of papers in your arms. "Why’d you—"

"Just wanted to say good job," he interrupted, nodding toward the papers in your hand. "Whatever you and Hank were talkin’ about over there seemed pretty important."

Your face lit up at the mention of your project, and you immediately launched into an explanation, completely forgetting about Logan's odd behavior. "Oh, yeah! We finally stabilized the energy output! It’s been driving us crazy for weeks, but we think we’ve figured out how to—"

Logan barely paid attention to the technical jargon that followed, more focused on the way your eyes sparkled as you talked, your excitement contagious. He gave a few gruff nods, pretending to follow along, but it was the way you lit up when you were passionate about something that kept him hooked.

"You’re incredible, you know that?" he said once you finished, his voice low and serious.

You blinked, taken aback. "Uh, what?"

"I said you’re incredible." He repeated, his gaze locking onto yours. "Smart, talented, and cute as a button. Gotta give credit where it’s due."

Your cheeks flushed pink, and you quickly looked down at the papers in your arms. "Oh, um, thanks, Logan," you mumbled, completely missing the deeper implication of his words, as usual. "I... I should probably get these to the lab. We need to review them before the next phase."

"Of course," Logan said, his smirk widening as he watched you stumble over your words. "But don’t forget to take a break, doll. All work and no play ain’t good for anyone."

"Right," you said, nodding as you hurried off, your mind already shifting back to your project, completely oblivious to the playful grin on Logan's face.

---

“You’ve never even been clubbing!?” Ororo exclaimed, holding up a finger to stop you from saying anything. “And you know I’m not talking about something like a ‘gardening club’.”

“And you have?” You asked, sitting on your bed as Jean looked through your closet.

Ororo laughed, shaking her head at your naivety. “Oh, Y/N, honey, I’ve been out dancing plenty of times. Clubbing is one of those things you just have to experience.”

Jean, still rummaging through your closet, chimed in, "She’s right, Y/N. It's fun to get out of the lab once in a while and let loose. You spend so much time buried in your work. You deserve a break."

You sighed, sinking back onto the bed. "I don’t know… It just seems like a waste of time. We could watch a movie, drink some wine, and call it a night."

Ororo leaned against your dresser, crossing her arms. "You can’t hide behind your projects forever, Flora. You need to socialize, let your hair down." She smirked, looking at you pointedly. "You never know, maybe someone will finally catch your eye."

You furrowed your brow, unconvinced. "Like who?"

Jean shared a knowing look with Ororo before turning to face you, holding up a dress you’d forgotten you owned. “Who knows? There could be someone at the club. Or maybe someone you’ve been completely blind to.”

Ororo raised an eyebrow and added, "Someone who’s been giving you attention for months, perhaps."

Your eyes narrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Jean grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she held up the dress in front of you. "Nothing, just an observation. Now, come on, put this on. Let’s see how it looks."

You sighed, getting off the bed and taking the dress from Jean’s hands. "I still don’t get what the big deal is. I’m perfectly fine without this whole clubbing thing."

Ororo smirked, stepping toward the door. “Trust us. You’ll thank us later.”

---

A few hours later, you found yourself standing outside one of the busiest clubs in the city, feeling slightly out of place in the dress Jean had picked out for you. The music thumped from inside the building, the bass reverberating through the sidewalk as people lined up to get in. You stood between Jean and Ororo, who both looked far more comfortable in their outfits than you felt in yours.

"I can’t believe you guys convinced me to come," you muttered under your breath, shifting on your feet as you glanced at the line of people ahead.

Jean grinned, looping her arm through yours. "You’re going to have fun. Trust me. It’s a nice change of pace."

Ororo nodded in agreement. "Plus, you deserve a night out. You’ve been working hard."

As you were about to respond, the doors of the club swung open, and you were hit with a blast of cool air mixed with the sound of thumping music. The bouncer waved the three of you in without a second glance, and before you knew it, you were inside, the lights flashing and the crowd buzzing with energy.

You followed Jean and Ororo through the throngs of people, weaving through the packed dance floor until you reached the bar. The atmosphere was unlike anything you were used to—loud, chaotic, and a little overwhelming. You weren’t sure how you felt about it yet.

Ororo leaned against the bar, ordering drinks while Jean turned to you with a grin. "What do you think so far?"

You shrugged, glancing around. "It’s... different."

"Just give it a chance," Jean said, patting your arm. "Once you get a drink in you and loosen up a bit, you’ll feel better."

The bartender handed Ororo three drinks, and she passed one to you with a wink. "To new experiences, Flora."

You hesitated for a moment before raising your glass. "To new experiences, I guess."

The three of you clinked glasses, and you took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol start to settle in. Maybe this night wouldn’t be so bad after all.

---

An expensive Uber trip later and you three were back at the mansion at 4 in the morning. Luckily it was Friday, or Saturday now, so there was no need to worry about being hungover for classes.

You don’t think you’ve ever drank that much alcohol, but to be fair, you must have a really low tolerance since you never partied in college, other than the occasional glass of wine.

So, drinking around 5 or 6 fruity cocktails surely made you see things differently. Maybe just a tad bit too blurry and clumsy.

You fumbled with your keys at the mansion door, Jean giggling behind you. “Here, let me help,” she offered, her hands steadier than yours as she took the keys and unlocked the door with ease.

“I’m fine, Jean!” you protested with a laugh, swaying slightly as you stepped inside. You weren’t used to feeling so... unbalanced. Everything seemed lighter, funnier, and a little more ridiculous after the alcohol. You were starting to understand why people did this more often.

Ororo walked in behind you, shaking her head but smiling. “Maybe next time we won’t let you have quite so many drinks,” she teased, gently guiding you toward the living room. “You’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”

“I’m a genius,” you declared, holding your head high in mock dignity, “I’ll be fine.”

Jean snorted, flopping onto the couch. “Oh yeah? Even geniuses can’t outsmart a hangover.”

You waved her off, settling into a chair, only to realize it was far too squishy, causing you to slide right down onto the floor. You stared at it for a second, then burst out laughing. “Who put a trap here?”

Ororo and Jean were in hysterics now, and even though your head was spinning, you couldn’t help but join in.

“You know,” Ororo started between giggles, “for someone who knows everything, you sure don’t know how to handle a drink.”

You narrowed your eyes at her, or at least tried to. “It’s... an anomaly. Unpredictable variables.”

“Right,” Jean said, leaning back with a grin, “just like Logan’s flirting.”

You blinked, the name snapping you out of your drunken haze for a second. “Logan’s what?”

Ororo and Jean exchanged glances before looking back at you, their smiles widening.

“His flirting,” Jean repeated slowly, as if explaining a simple concept.

You squinted, feeling like your brain was moving through molasses. “Flirting? Logan? With me?”

Ororo rolled her eyes playfully. “Yes, Y/N. For months. You seriously haven’t noticed?”

You stared at them both, utterly lost. “Flirting? Logan? Are you guys drunk too?”

Jean sighed dramatically, standing up. “I think you’re too far gone to process this tonight.”

You shook your head, still trying to wrap your mind around what they were saying. Logan? Flirting? With you? It didn’t make any sense. Logan was... well, Logan.

Ororo pulled you up from the floor, patting your arm. “Let’s get you to bed. You can overthink this tomorrow.”

---

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a stomach that felt like it was doing somersaults. Groaning, you dragged yourself out of bed, making a mental note to never drink that much again.

As you made your way to the kitchen, hoping to find coffee and maybe something greasy to settle your stomach, you tried to remember the details from last night. Jean and Ororo had said something about Logan... flirting with you?

You shook your head. That couldn’t be right. Logan wasn’t the type to flirt. He was gruff, tough, and mostly kept to himself. Sure, he called you pet names, but that didn’t mean anything. Right?

Pouring yourself a cup of coffee, you sat at the kitchen island, still groggy. You were about to take a sip when you heard the familiar sound of boots approaching.

“Mornin’, doll,” Logan greeted as he walked in, his voice a low rumble.

You looked up at him, your brain still foggy, and for some reason, the word ‘flirting’ popped into your mind again. You stared at him for a moment longer than necessary, your head tilting slightly.

“Uh... morning,” you replied, your voice a little more unsure than usual. You couldn’t stop replaying what Jean and Ororo had said last night. Was this flirting? You eyed Logan, trying to decipher his expression.

He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you muttered, taking a sip of your coffee. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

Logan chuckled, that deep, rough sound that always sent a weird shiver down your spine. “Guess you didn’t take my advice about not overdoing it, huh?”

You blinked. “What advice?”

“Last night,” he said, smirking, “told ya not to have too many drinks, sweetheart.”

Your brow furrowed. “Wait, you were there?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, clearly amused. “Passed by when you three were heading out. You looked excited about... whatever the hell it is you get excited about.”

You frowned, trying to remember him saying that. It was all so hazy. Then you shook your head, deciding to just drop it. “Well, I’ll survive.”

Logan gave you a lazy grin. “Tough as nails, aren’t ya?”

You shrugged, trying to play it off. “I guess so.”

There was a moment of silence before Logan pushed off the counter and moved closer. He reached out and gently tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, his fingers brushing your cheek for just a second too long. “Good thing. Wouldn’t want ya to break, sweetheart.”

Your eyes widened, your breath catching in your throat. This was... different. You felt your face heat up, and you quickly turned your attention back to your coffee. “Uh... right.”

Logan’s smirk didn’t fade as he stepped back. “See ya around, darlin’.”

You watched him leave the kitchen, your heart pounding in your chest for reasons you couldn’t quite explain. What was that? Was that what Jean and Ororo had been talking about? Or was it just him being old-fashioned, after all he was over 200 years old, and you were a mere 25. He was the Wolverine, and you were just a young teacher that happened to be an X-Men.

---

It had been a week since you had gone out clubbing with Jean and Ororo and you were too far gone in your own mind. You started observing things more carefully, the way Logan would rest his hand on your lower back when he was walking you to your next class, how he occasionally brought you snacks when you were in the lab, telling Hank that they were only for you, and finally, how he really only called you nicknames.

Ever since that realization, you tried to keep it hidden, to process it on your own. After all, guys didn’t like you. You weren’t exactly the kind of girl they wanted.

Logan noticed how you got more nervous around him, your heart beating faster, how you seemed to stumble over your words more often than not around him. At one point, he asked Jean about it, to which she revealed her and Ororo did what he couldn’t.

He ended up outside of your office, hearing you talk to one of the senior students about which colleges were the best for his major. You assured him that just because it was September, doesn’t mean he’s too late to apply.

Logan knocked on the door as you said that the door was unlocked. He hadn’t seen your outfit today, a white pencil skirt paired with a skintight, long sleeve peach colored shirt. Your hip was leaning against the front of the desk next to where the student was sitting.

Kean looked between the two of you, before quickly gathering his things and the brochures you gave him for various colleges.

"Remember to look into some engineering programs! I’d think they’d be great for you!" You called out after Kean, watching as the student hurried out of your office. The door clicked shut behind him, and you sighed, thinking of the next round of paperwork waiting on your desk. You were about to walk around your desk to sit down when you noticed Logan still standing there, leaning casually against the doorframe, his eyes focused on you in that intense way he often did.

"Sweetheart, got a minute?" Logan's voice was rough, familiar, and held that signature casualness that made it feel like he wasn't really asking.

You blinked, startled for a second before nodding. "Uh, yeah. Sure, Logan. What's up?"

Logan stepped further into the room, his eyes scanning you briefly. "You looked pretty wrapped up in your work. Thought you could use a break."

Your mind raced, suddenly self-conscious. "Yeah, I’ve been helping some of the seniors with their college stuff," you explained, motioning to the brochures still scattered across your desk. "It's that time of year where they start panicking about applications."

Logan smirked, his arms crossing over his chest. "You always keep yourself busy, don’t ya, doll?"

You rolled your lower lip while humming as your answer. You crossed your arms, watching as Logan came closer to you, standing almost toe to toe with your pointy short peach colored heels.

“You finally figured it out then, didn’t ya?” He asked.

“I- well, uh…” you stammered, suddenly feeling heat rush to your face. Why was Logan looking at you like that? And what did he mean by ‘you finally figured it out’? Were Ororo and Jean right?

Logan’s smirk deepened, amusement dancing in his eyes as he watched you fumble over your words. "You’re a genius, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now."

Your heart raced, and you felt your palms start to sweat. Why was he so close? You tried to focus on the conversation, on anything other than how your body was reacting to his presence. "N-noticed what?" you managed to get out, your voice sounding way less composed than you intended.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying this far more than you were. "How I’ve been flirtin’ with ya for months now," he said casually, as if he were commenting on the weather.

Your brain short-circuited. Flirting? Logan? Flirting? With you? That didn’t make any sense. Logan flirted with women who were… well, not you. He was the rough-around-the-edges kind of guy who went for women who were confident, flirtatious, and knew how to handle someone like him. You were the awkward  genius who spent more time in the lab than anywhere else. Guys didn’t flirt with you.

"You’ve been—wait, what?" you asked, blinking rapidly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. "You’ve been flirting with me?"

Logan chuckled, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. "Yeah, doll. Pretty sure everyone at the mansion’s noticed by now." His smirk returned as he added, "Except you, apparently."

Your face burned, and you tried to think back. Had he been flirting? The nicknames, the snacks, the casual touches… it all seemed so… normal for Logan. You thought he was just being friendly, maybe a bit protective like he was with some of the younger students.

"I—" You started to say something but stopped, unsure of what exactly to say. You felt like the ground had shifted beneath you. "Why didn’t anyone tell me?"

Logan shrugged. "Didn’t think it was their place. Figured you’d catch on eventually." His gaze softened, and he added, "Didn’t expect you to be this oblivious, though. Kinda cute."

You were sure your face couldn’t get any redder. "I’m not… I’m not oblivious," you mumbled, crossing your arms defensively. "I just didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me."

Logan’s eyebrows shot up. "And why the hell not?"

"Because I’m… me!" You motioned to yourself, like that explained everything. "Guys don’t flirt with me, Logan. They’re usually intimidated or just… I don’t know. I’m not the kind of girl guys like."

You didn’t have any friends until you came here, which was sad because you were 24 when you finally had some.

Sure, you tried to make some during college, joined the gardening club and the astronomy club, but whenever you talked people would never really listen to you.

You even tried going on a few dates with some guys from online dating apps. They were your age, but they were in their third year of college while you were already working on two master’s degrees. You even had similarities with a few of them.

One guy liked Star Wars, and you went into a short rant about how the physics of it was wrong and even talked about a bunch of the lore behind it. Same with the other 2 dates you went on, they were all one and done.

Guys didn’t like you. That’s just the way it was.

Logan raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard, doll. You think guys don’t notice you?”

You crossed your arms, feeling defensive again. “I don’t think, I know. Trust me, I’ve tried.” You paused, hesitating before you added, “I’m not exactly… good at this kind of thing. Social stuff, I mean. I’m better at figuring out equations than people.”

Logan stepped closer, so close that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. “You’re wrong, sweetheart,” he said softly, his voice surprisingly gentle. “You’ve got this idea in your head that no one’s gonna want you because you’re too smart or too different, but that ain’t true. Not even close.”

You blinked up at him, unsure of how to respond. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flutter in a way that felt both exciting and terrifying. “I just… I don’t see why you’d be interested in me,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re Logan. You could have anyone.”

Logan chuckled softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, but I don’t want just anyone.” His eyes locked onto yours, his tone becoming serious. “I want you.”

Your heart nearly stopped in your chest. You had no idea what to say. Logan had been flirting with you—Logan, the gruff, no-nonsense guy you’d come to admire over the past year—and you’d been completely clueless. How could someone like him, someone who seemed so out of your league, be interested in you?

“I… I don’t understand,” you mumbled, still struggling to process everything. “Why me?”

Logan sighed, as if he had been waiting for this question for months. “Because you’re brilliant, Y/N. You’ve got this fire in you, this passion for everything you do. You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you don’t let anyone push you around. And you’re so damn kind, even when you don���t have to be.” He ran a hand through his hair, as if trying to gather his thoughts. “You’ve got no idea how many times I’ve wanted to tell you, but… well, you’re not exactly the easiest person to talk to about feelings.”

You blinked. “I’m not?”

Logan smirked. “No, sweetheart, you’re not. You overthink everything. Makes it kinda hard to tell you I like you without you analyzing it to death.”

You bit your lip, feeling a mix of embarrassment and disbelief. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, not really knowing what else to say. “I just didn’t think you… I didn’t think anyone would… you know.”

Logan stepped even closer, so close that you had to sit on the edge of your desk. “Well, I do,” he said, his voice low. “And I’ve been waitin’ for you to figure it out.”

You stared up at him, your mind still reeling. All this time, Logan had been flirting with you, had liked you, and you hadn’t noticed. And now, here he was, standing so close you could feel his breath on your skin, telling you exactly how he felt. It was overwhelming, to say the least.

"Logan, I…" you started, but the words got caught in your throat. You didn’t know what to say, how to respond to something like this. Part of you wanted to brush it off as some kind of misunderstanding, but the way he was looking at you, the way he had always looked at you, made it clear that this wasn’t a joke or a misunderstanding.

He really liked you.

Logan smirked at your silence, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Speechless, huh? That’s a first," he teased, his voice low and rough in that way that made your stomach flip.

You shook your head, trying to regain some semblance of composure. "It’s just… I didn’t think you’d be interested in someone like me. You’re Logan, and I’m…" You gestured to yourself awkwardly. "Me."

Logan frowned slightly, his brows pulling together. "What the hell’s that supposed to mean?"

You shrugged in response, turning your head downward to look down at your lap. It didn’t last long, because Logan put his thumb on your chin, turning your head upright to look at him.

He noticed your expression change, you were someone who was easy to read, never really kept her emotions hidden well, or at least not to him. You went from big doe eyes and sad, pouty lips to flustered. Your eyes were curious and almost nervous and your pink lips, courtesy of the colored lip balm you always wore, were slightly parted.

Logan held your gaze, his thumb gently resting on your chin, and you couldn’t help but feel your pulse quicken under his touch. He was so close now, close enough that the musky scent of him was filling your senses, making it even harder to think clearly.

"You really think I’d waste my time on someone I didn’t want?" Logan’s voice was low, gruff, but there was a softness to it that you hadn’t heard before.

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out. The words were jumbled in your mind, and all you could focus on was the way his rough fingers were still holding your chin, forcing you to meet his intense gaze. The confidence he exuded was overwhelming. How could he be so sure, so calm, while you felt like your brain was on fire?

"Logan, I…" you trailed off, your voice barely above a whisper. The weight of his hand, the warmth of his body so close—it was too much.

He let out a soft chuckle, clearly amused by how flustered you were. "Doll, you’re overthinking again."

Your lips pressed together into a thin line as you tried to get a handle on your spiraling thoughts. "I’m just… surprised. I didn’t think…" You hesitated, the words feeling clumsy in your mouth. His thumb moved slightly up, still holding onto your chin but now brushing against your lower lip, making it more difficult to concentrate or come up with a single coherent thought.

No one had ever treated you like this, so kindly and… normally. You thought back to the only 3 dates you had ever been on during college, how none of them ever really tried to get to know you, or peel back the layers behind your smarts.

Because you weren’t just smart, you loved gardening, and baking, hell, you even liked to dress cute. And out of all the guys, Logan never treated you like someone different. It was nice to be around someone like that, who embraced who you were rather than try and get you to bury it. Maybe it was his age? You remember reading an article from a psych organization about how younger women like older men because of emotional maturity-

Rough hands cupped your face, bringing you out of your thoughts. “Hey, stop thinkin’. What the hell could you be thinkin’ about right now?”

You gave a shy smile and shook your head gently, his hands still on your face. “Nothin’,” you mumbled, your voice softer than you intended. You tried to play it off like everything was fine, but Logan wasn’t buying it.

Logan’s brow furrowed slightly, his thumb brushing your cheek now. "You’re a terrible liar, sweetheart." His voice was low, that gravelly tone sending shivers down your spine.

You swallowed, your mind still racing as you searched for the right words. "I just… I don’t get why you’d want me," you admitted, your eyes flicking away from his. "You’re this… badass, Logan. You’ve been through so much. You could have anyone."

His hands stayed where they were, his touch gentle but firm as he guided your gaze back to his. "I told you, doll. I don’t want anyone else. I want you."

You blinked up at him, still unsure of how to respond. It felt like your heart was beating out of your chest, and your mind was a mess of conflicting thoughts. On one hand, Logan was the last person you ever thought would have feelings for you. On the other hand, here he was, being painfully honest, and you couldn’t deny the sincerity in his voice.

"I just…" you hesitated, biting your lip, "I don’t know how to do this, Logan. I’m not… I’ve never been good at… people. Relationships. I mean, I’m good at math, science, and solving problems but not—this."

Logan chuckled softly, his fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You don’t gotta be good at it, Y/N. You just gotta be you." His voice softened, the teasing tone dropping away as he said, "That’s all I’ve ever wanted."

Your breath caught in your throat. He made it sound so simple, like it wasn’t a big deal. But it was a big deal to you. You hadn’t dated much—hardly at all, if you were being honest. Relationships felt like another complex equation you couldn’t quite solve.

"Logan, I…" you started, but he cut you off, his hands dropping from your face to settle on your hips, pulling you just a little closer.

"You overthinkin’ again?" Logan smirked, one eyebrow raised.

You couldn’t help but smile at that. "Maybe a little," you admitted, your voice quiet. It was hard to concentrate when he was so close, his hands resting on your hips like it was the most natural thing in the world.

"That’s what I thought," Logan muttered, leaning in just enough that his forehead almost touched yours. "You don’t gotta figure everything out right now, doll. Just… let it happen."

You stared at him, your mind whirling. "Let it happen?" you echoed, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying.

"Yeah," Logan said softly, his voice rough but soothing at the same time. "Stop tryin’ to solve it like it’s some kinda problem. Just be with me."

You blinked, your heart doing that weird fluttering thing again. Be with him? It sounded so simple when he said it like that. But you couldn’t help the flood of doubt that kept creeping into your mind. What if you screwed it up? What if you weren’t good enough at this? What if—

Logan’s hands tightened slightly on your hips, and he pulled you closer, cutting off your spiraling thoughts. "Y/N, you’re doin’ it again," he murmured, his voice a soft rumble in the space between you. "You’re thinkin’ too much."

You sighed, biting your lip again. "I can’t help it," you muttered, feeling a little embarrassed. "That’s just how my brain works."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "I know, darlin’. But you don’t gotta do that with me."

His words hung in the air, and you found yourself staring at him, completely unsure of what to say next. No one had ever spoken to you like this before. No one had ever made you feel like it was okay to just… be. You were always the smartest person in the room, always expected to have the answers, to be the one in control. But with Logan, it felt different. He didn’t expect you to be anything but yourself.

"I…" You trailed off, your throat tightening. "I don’t know how to not overthink things."

Logan’s smirk softened, and he tilted his head slightly, his eyes warm as they met yours. "Then I’ll just have to distract you, won’t I?"

Before you could even process what he was saying, he leaned in, his lips brushing yours in the softest, most unexpected kiss. It was like everything around you froze for a moment, your brain short-circuiting as you tried to catch up with what was happening.

Logan was kissing you.

Logan.

Was kissing.

You.

Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt as you kissed him back. It wasn’t what you expected—nothing in your life had ever felt like this. The warmth, the softness of his lips against yours, the way he held you like you were something precious… it was overwhelming in the best possible way.

If you would’ve told your past self from five years ago, hell, even two months ago, that your first kiss would be with the Wolverine, you would’ve thought it was some grand, cosmic joke. But there you were, hands fisting into Logan’s shirt, his lips gently pressing against yours like this was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t how you’d imagined your first kiss would go. Not that you’d spent a lot of time imagining it—honestly, you’d been too busy with equations, papers, and research to even consider the prospect of someone being interested in you. But if you had pictured it, this wouldn’t have been it. Not with a man like Logan.

His rough hands held you in place, strong but careful, as if he was hyper-aware of how delicate you felt in his grasp. You, who could bend nature to your will, whose intelligence far surpassed anyone’s expectations, felt completely and utterly vulnerable in his arms.

When he pulled back, it wasn’t by much. His forehead rested against yours, his breath warm and slightly uneven. Logan’s lips curved into a smirk, one you could practically feel against your skin.

“Well,” he drawled, voice low and teasing, “that didn’t seem too bad, did it?”

You blinked up at him, still trying to recover from the shock. “I… I don’t—what just happened?”

Logan chuckled softly, his thumbs brushing small circles into your hips, keeping you grounded when your thoughts were spinning out of control. “I just kissed ya, sweetheart. And unless I’m readin’ the situation wrong, you didn’t mind too much.”

Your mind raced, heart hammering in your chest. “No, I—” You paused, biting your lip as you tried to form a coherent thought. “I didn’t mind. It’s just—”

“Just what?” Logan’s voice softened, his expression growing more serious as he studied your face.

“I wasn’t expecting it.” You swallowed, looking away from him for a moment before forcing yourself to meet his eyes again. “I didn’t think someone like you… I mean, I didn’t think you would- I didn’t think anyone would- ”

Logan raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to finish, but when you didn’t, he took a step closer. His hand was still resting on your hip, keeping you anchored to him, and the heat of his body was impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think what, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, feeling the weight of his question press down on you. It was like all the words in your head had turned to static, and you couldn’t figure out how to string a coherent sentence together. "I just… I don’t know," you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s lips quirked into a small, teasing smile, but his eyes stayed serious. "You don’t know, or you don’t wanna say?"

You bit your lip, your mind still reeling from the kiss. The memory of it—soft, unexpected, but not unwelcome—was playing on a loop in your head. You hadn’t been kissed much, if at all, and the idea that Logan was the one to give you your first real kiss was still something you were trying to process.

But you couldn’t lie, it was nice. You were 25, just had your first kiss, and suddenly you felt like a teenager in a Disney movie.

A grin slipped past your lips. "I just wasn’t expecting you to kiss me, old man," you finally replied, your voice teasing but soft.

Logan’s eyebrows raised, and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Old man, huh?" he murmured, his voice dipping into that gravelly tone that always made you feel a bit flustered. "Pretty sure that kiss just proved I’ve still got it."

You laughed softly, your hands still fisted in his shirt, though he didn’t seem to mind at all. Logan’s smirk widened at the sound of your laughter, and you could feel the tension in the air start to ease, just a little.

"Yeah, maybe you do," you replied, your voice soft but teasing as you looked up at him, your heart still beating a little too fast from the kiss. "Guess you're not as rusty as I thought."

Logan raised an eyebrow, his smirk never faltering. "Rusty?" he repeated, his voice low and playful, with that gravelly edge that made your stomach flip every time. "You seriously thought I was rusty, sweetheart?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain some semblance of composure despite how close he was and how easily he seemed to get under your skin. "I don’t know. I mean, you’re a couple of hundred years old. Thought you might’ve lost your touch."

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rumbling in his chest as he leaned in just a little closer. "Oh, darlin'," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I ain't lost a damn thing."

Your breath caught in your throat, and for a second, you couldn’t think of a single thing to say. Logan’s confidence was overwhelming, but it wasn’t just that—there was a tenderness in the way he looked at you, a softness in his touch that made your chest feel tight.

"Okay, okay," you finally muttered, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to deflect some of the attention. "Point taken."

Logan grinned, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. "Good," he said simply, his thumbs brushing lightly over your hips where his hands still rested. "’Cause I don’t wanna hear any more about me bein’ rusty or old. Got it?"

You nodded, biting your lip as you tried not to smile too much. "Got it."

chapter 3 of Sweet Dreams will be up tomorrow!

[freeabortionslol]

Injury Report (quinn hughes x actress!reader)

summary: fluff!! childhood bsfs to lovers, mutual pining, you go to a Canucks game during one of your free days to see your best friend, quinn hughes play. unfortunately the game results in a knee sprain. you and quinn go back to your house where you take care of him, and he realizes he can't spend another day without you.

warnings!! baby fever, domesticity, injury (knee sprain), makeout, kinda suggestive

a/n why is the reader always an actress? why are they always best friends to lovers? why is the team always playing the ducks? idk man leave me alone

wc: 4.4k

It was supposed to be a good night, at least a normal one. That’s what you thought as you were sitting up in the box seats with your hair curled as you smiled wide in Quinn’s jersey. Ellen and Jim were tucked away in New Jersey to see Jack and Luke, so you took it upon yourself to go see Quinn play. It was an away game in Anaheim, and you just happen to have a small home in Los Angeles, so you thought it would be the perfect time to go to a game. You and Quinn had planned this about a month out, realizing the game fell during a week where you had absolutely nothing going on. It was rare to have these moments considering you’re constantly working on new projects, but you were more than happy to spend that time with Quinn. You were cozied up in between Bella Boeser and Natalie Miller, watching as Natalie tried to tame her small children. One of her daughters, Scarlett, sat in front of you staring as you spoke with Bella about the latest fashion trends.

“Do you really have super powers?” Scarlett cut off your conversation, referring to your role in the marvel films.

“Man, I wish! I just play pretend for the movies.” You shifted your focus to the small blonde girl who was sitting in front of you. In her eyes you could see the infatuation she had for you. You let your attention slip away from the game as this little girl asked you question after question. No doubt you had serious baby fever. It was hard not to when Natalie and J.T somehow made the most well behaved children on the planet.

“Who's your favorite player on the team?”

“Ooh probably Quinn Hughes because he’s one of my best friends, but your dad is pretty cool too.”

“Um, did you know that um Mr. Quinn has um two other brothers that play hockey too?” her T’s coming out as D’s.

“Yes I did! I’m also very good friends with Jack and Luke.”

“Do you like the brothers teams better or daddy’s team with um Mr. Quinn?”

“That's tough. I can’t pick or they’ll all get mad at me, but tonight I'm a Canucks fan.”

You didn’t know at the time, but while you were in deep conversation with Scarlett, the stadium's camera panned to you. This was always bound to happen whenever you went to one of the boy’s games, considering you were an A list actress with an impressive catalog. Quinn, who had just gotten off the ice, shifted his attention to the screen above him and he couldn’t help but smile at the sight of you being so gentle with the little girl. He was so hopelessly in love with you and everyone knew it, except for you. Watching you being so good to the small child made his mind create the scenario of you being the mother of his own children. It’s all he’s ever wanted, but the dynamic between the two of you always made him hesitant. Worried that it might create tension between himself and his brothers. Unfortunately for him, the tv camera quickly shifted to the smile he wore while watching you. The media was constantly trying to conjure up stories about the two of you. That you were secretly dating, hookup buddies, engaged, pregnant, but the sad truth is that the two of you had always just been friends. You and Quinn weren’t the type of people to talk about each other to the media, so you always left it up to the people to keep guessing. All they knew was that the two of you grew up together, and the rest was up to their imagination. 

“Hey! That’s my kid!” J.T yelled, pulling Quinn from his trance. “And my wife!” He waved up at the screen. “Wait, why are they showing my family?” Quinn’s attention was still on the screen, focused on the woman who was now cut slightly out of frame as Scarlett climbed into Natalie’s lap.

“Look who’s next to em.” Quinn pointed to the screen causing the realization to hit J.T.

“Oh! It’s little miss Movie Star.” He nudged Quinn’s shoulder “Huggy bear’s bunny.”

“She’s not my bunny. She’s just a good friend.” Just. The word stung as it came out of his mouth. He didn’t want to be just a good friend, he wanted to be your person.

The game continued as normal now five minutes into the second period. You sipped on a terrible IPA that Bella grabbed for you, as you attempted to fix the beanie on top of your curled hair. You weren’t too nervous about tonight considering the Canucks were on a winning streak and were already leading 3-0 with Quinn scoring one goal. The feel of the night made you wish you could do this all the time. You wished to be wearing Quinn’s jersey in a way that said “He is mine. I love him and I claim myself as his.” instead of in a “I’m a famous actress who just wanted to go to a hockey game and I didn’t have anything to wear so I wore your jersey because we're friends.” way. You watched as the small children focused on the ice from the barrier in awe, casually throwing out a “Mommy, look at how fast daddy skated!” You wanted little hockey stars and movie stars to watch Quinn skate on the ice every night. You let your mind drag you to a world where you became a Canucks WAG, had your own last name on the back of your jersey, sitting back as your children cheered on their dad from the box. They would probably have the signature Hughes chestnut colored hair and striking smile. You wondered if they would want to be a hockey player like their dad, or an actress like their mom. You were kidding yourself knowing damn well that Quinn would have those kids on the ice before they could even walk. You let yourself get wrapped in the imagery of white picket fences and family dinners with Quinn, you almost missed the moment that shifted your entire night. 

You heard a loud bang and several “Oooh”s from the box, and looked down to see Quinn kneeling on the ice. He was in the neutral zone with the puck when one of the Ducks slammed their body directly into him causing him to fly over another player's back, landing legs first onto the ice. You immediately sprung from your seat, hand covering your mouth, as you made your way toward the barrier. You placed your free hand on the rail, leaning as far out as possible. Your heart began to race and your eyes filled with tears of shock as you watched the scene before you. As he tried to get up, Quinn’s face shifted from disgruntled to agonized in an instant. You felt a lump in your throat watching as he couldn’t manage to lift himself from the ground. You’d never seen him so hurt. His face tightened as he kept trying to pull himself up. You wished you were closer so you could scream at him to stop, but he was never one to throw in the towel. He was clearly trying to convince himself that he could get up and keep playing, but his body was failing. A mix of terror and sadness creeped through your entire body as the trainers pulled him from the ice. You stayed silent watching him disappear to the locker room, each breath shakier than the last. The media was going to have a field day with the shot of tears in your eyes watching him leave, but you weren’t thinking about that at this moment. Natalie walked over to you, placing a hand on your back to try and reassure you that he would be okay, as she guided you back to your seat. You couldn’t speak and frankly you didn’t want to. You didn’t even know what to say because everything you wanted to pour out was suggestive to the fact that you were really in love with him. 

The game was now 7 minutes into the third period, and Quinn has yet to emerge from the locker room. At this point, you assumed he wasn’t coming out at all. You sat back in your seat still staying silent as you anxiously watched the game in front of you. Your mind kept drifting to the sight of Quinn broken down on the ice like that. He was in so much pain and your fears heightened as you glanced back to the memory of him not being able to lift himself from the ground. You couldn’t just sit there waiting for an answer any longer, so you decided to pull out your phone in the hopes that maybe Quinn had his in hand. Your fingers shaking as you carefully typed out a message.

You: hey i dont know if you have your phone or not but im just really worried. are you okay? please please please tell me it’s not something serious?

quinny <3: Miss me on the ice? Bet the game is boring without me.

You: OMG YOURE ALIVE whats wrong? is it bad??

quinny <3: Luckily, I didn’t break anything. I sprained my knee. I'll be out for 2-4 weeks. The pain isn’t too terrible at the moment thanks to the meds they gave me.

You: meds?

quinny <3: Advil. Meet me outside the locker room after the game. 

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Canucks won 5-2 without Quinn on the ice. Now, you stood outside the locker room with Bella and Natalie, waiting anxiously for him to walk out. Brock came out first, giving you reassurances that Quinn would be alright before walking out with Bella, hand in hand. J.T arrived next, swooping his two daughters off the ground after greeting his wife with a victory kiss. He teased you about the way Quinn smiled at you when you were on the screen. Natalie sent him a slap to his chest and the family made their way out. It was only you left standing. All the other players had exited along with their families. You tapped your foot on the carpet below you, pulling your phone out to the time every couple seconds. Finally, your gaze caught Quinn’s as he walked out of the doors with crutches at his side and a brace on his knee. His eyes soften at the sight of you.

“Hey, Quinny.” Your tender voice trembling out at the sight of his injured knee.

“Hey Y/n/n” He says before placing his crutches against the wall to bring you into a tight embrace. You stuffed your face into the crook of his neck, getting a whiff of his designer cologne. His grip on your waist tightened at the comfortability of your touch. You moved your head to rest on the soft fabric of his hoodie as you gave him one final squeeze. As you pulled back, hands resting on his arms, you caught a slight smirk on his face.

“Nice jersey. That mine or yours?”

“Might’ve maybe stolen it last time I was at your place.” Your smile widened as he let out a soft chuckle.

“Was wondering where that went.” He grabbed the crutches from off the wall, leaving your touch. You stared at him and grew a frown at the thought of him being in pain. When he was settled you grabbed his hand, subtly rubbing against his fingers.

“I was so scared, Quinn.” You gave him an empathy filled half smile.

“Yeah, I know.” His eyebrows raised as he reached towards his back pocket to grab his phone. He quickly handed it to you so you could see the photo of you in the box with the caption “Y/n L/n in tears after Quinn Hughes’ injury” Your mouth gaped open as you underestimated how quick they would be “That’s the official NHL instagram account, by the way.” He laughed as you stared down at the phone. He quickly snatched the phone from your grip when he caught you looking through the comment section. “Nope. Not doing that.”

“Hey I was still looking.” You protested, crossing your arms.

“No, because when you read the comments you get all sad, and then you cry, and then I have to comfort you.”

“You don’t like comforting me?” You tilted your head to the side with a fake frown.

“That’s not what I meant. I would just much rather hang out with the happy version of you.” He gave you a soft smile as he squeezed your hand. “I don’t mean to be pushy, but I was promised a bed tonight.”

“Alright then” You laughed and turned your body towards the exit “Onward we go captain!” Quinn’s hand left yours as the two of you exited the arena

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Arriving at your small, cozy home in LA you quickly raced to the door to hold it open for Quinn. Faint noises from the city rang through your ears as he slowly pulled himself towards the door in silence. You couldn’t help but frown at the state he was currently in. You shut the door behind him, taking in the scent of your fresh linen candle. You walked over to the back porch to crack it lightly, allowing the fresh California air to fill the small home. You turned around to find Quinn making his way to the kitchen.

“No no no.” You quickly walked to him and grabbed his shoulders to lead him to the couch. “You need to rest.”

“Y/n I’m fine, seriously.” He protested as you pushed him closer to the cushions. He took his spot sitting on the couch, placing the crutches on the ground as you stared at him on your feet.

“Let me take care of you, please.” His gaze shifted towards the back porch. “Do you want food?” Your hands on your hips as you gave him a stern look. He sighed as his eyes softened, looking back at you accepting defeat. 

“What do you have?” He shifted his position to where he was laying on his side to face you, kicking off his shoes.

“Frozen pizza?” You asked quietly, brushing his hair back with your fingers. He leaned into your touch, nudging his head closer to your hand.

“Sounds good to me.” He gave you a soft smile, watching as you removed your hand from his hair walking towards the kitchen. He picked the remote from off the coffee table, his gaze still centered on you, as you reached for the pizza in the fridge. He laughed quietly to himself watching you prepare him food in his jersey. He wanted this to be every night for him, coming home to see your face after a bad game. He admired the way your highlighter beamed off your cheekbones from the soft glow of the sink light. You began preheating the oven while he turned his focus to the tv in front of him. Quickly turning on The Office, knowing you’d seen it a million times, so you would be okay with having conversations with him during the show. You made your way back to the couch, stopping at your tracks in front of him, giving him a good stare while the TV played softly in the background.

“Can I help you?” He laughed watching you stand directly in front of him.

“Do you have a shirt I can wear?” You asked, squinting your eyes at him.

“This is your house. I know you have your own shirt.” He smiled looking up at you.

“Not any comfy ones! All my good clothes are in New York. You know I'm never here.” You huffed out crossing your arms. Quinn let his head hang in defeat, pointing at the bag towards the door. He moved his head to prop on the arm of the couch to watch you walk to his bag. He stared with a soft smile as you unzipped the bag, finding his white tee with a blue Canucks logo in the top corner. It was one of his favorites and he knew he wasn’t getting back. He admired your figure as you brought the shirt to your chest to see how it would fit you. What he didn’t expect you to do, was rip off your jersey right there at the entryway. The sight of you in only a bra and leggings made his heart drop and his face pink. He quickly turned his attention back to the TV, propping his head up with his hand. He glanced at you in his peripheral vision, trying his hardest not to look. Were you doing this on purpose? He didn’t know, but if you were, it was killing him. He glanced as you pulled the shirt over your head, pulling your leggings off to leave yourself in only your underwear. You decided that since the shirt cut just above your knees, there was no need to put in a pair of shorts. You left your clothes on the floor and made your way back to the couch where Quinn was sitting. His face flushed as he stared at the screen in front of him. You took your spot on the other end of the couch, lying down and letting your legs tangle in his. Your eyes were locked on the TV, but Quinn was only watching you. Admiring the way you looked, the way his heart dropped every time you shuffled your legs, and thinking back on the sight of you half naked in front of him. The two of you stayed in this spot for a while, with you getting up to put the pizza in the oven, and then again to get it out. As you walked back to him with two plates in hand, his mind was only on the fact that you had no pants on under his T-shirt so casually in front of him. 

“Thanks, Movie Star.” He grinned wide as you handed him the plate. The two of you sat up, close to each other but not touching, as you ate. “Seriously, I mean. For taking care of me.” He nudged your shoulder, as you leaned into his touch letting your head fall to his bicep.

“Anything for you, Quinny.” He laughed at your comment as you took another bite of your pizza. The two of you sat in silence, finishing every last bite of your pizza. Well, you ate it up to the crust and Quinn stole the leftovers from off your plate. When you both finished, you brought both plates to the kitchen to set them down in the sink. Quinn shifted his position back to lying down as you returned empty handed. So very naturally, you made your way back to the living room, lying down in between him and the back of the couch. You rested your head on his chest and wrapped your arms around his torso. He maneuvered himself so he was able to place his arm around your back. You and Quinn had been in this position before, it was normal for you to cuddle up with each other when you watched TV. Tonight however, things felt different. Like there was a new found spark between the two of you. Quinn felt his nerves tense up in a way they had never before as you played with the bottom of his hoodie, your fingers slightly brushing against his bare skin. You could feel his heart beating against your ear which was always bound to make your body relax against him. You shifted the attention of your fingers from his hoodie down to his knee. Your touch grazed over the brace, a feeling of pity washed over you.

“Does it hurt?” You asked quietly, your eyes never leaving his knee.

“No. It’s not too bad. I’ve dealt with worse.” He let out a soft chuckle. “What’s gonna get me is the fact that I can’t play, but i’d like to distract myself from that right now.” He took your hand in his, moving from the brace back up to his side. Your thumb rubbed the soft fabric of his hoodie back and forth as you took in the scent of his laundry detergent. His hand lightly tracing up and down your back while the two of you watched the TV. You melted into his touch, having to fight the urge to keep your eyes open as he tickled your back in such a comfortable way. You moved yourself slightly, to where you were now lying on his shoulder. Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck, his beard subtly scratching your forehead as he tightened his hold on you, bringing you closer to his body. 

“I love you, Quinn.” you murmured softly.

“I love you too.” He nuzzled his head in closer to yours. It made you sad, but it shouldn’t. He loves you, but he doesn’t love you in the way that you want him to. You carefully played with the strings of his hoodie as he absentmindedly leaned into your touch further. The two of you let the show play, not saying a word to each other. Just appreciating the peaceful moment. It caused Quinn to realize that he couldn’t play pretend anymore. He couldn’t keep acting like there was nothing between the two of you, because there most definitely was. He knew he wanted to marry you, have children with you, see your beautiful face at every Canucks game, and have every night be exactly like this. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and he wanted the rest of his life to start now.

“Are you asleep?” He asked quietly, part of him hoping you were.

“Almost.” You nuzzled deeper into his neck

“Well, wake up. I got some things I want to tell you.” His voice was shaky, knowing that he was about to indulge in his childhood fantasies, or ruin a 15 year long friendship. You shifted yourself up looking down at him. Your hands on either side of his body.

“What’s on your mind Quinnifer?” You asked innocently, blissfully unaware of what was about to come. Quinn let out a long sigh, throwing his head back before looking back at you. Seeing you in this light, in his t-shirt, you looked more beautiful than any other woman he’s ever seen. He thought for a moment about saying nevermind, but he was already locked in to his plan at this point.

“Do you remember that time we both went to that gala in New York two years ago?”

“Mhm.” You nodded your head, still not understanding the situation.

“We went separately. Each of us dateless.” you laughed, making his face blush at the sound. “I walked into the room which was so crowded. Mostly with women, and Brock was teasing me asking which one I was gonna bring home that night.” He took your hand in his as you crinkled your nose. “But my eyes were only searching for you in the sea full of people, and when I finally found you standing by the bar in your silky navy blue dress, I thought none of these women compare.” Your face quickly turned red, your heart beating fast as you realized what he was getting at. “You were the most beautiful woman in the entire room. I stared at you for as long as I could before you caught me and ran over. You basically leapt into my arms and said…”

“Are you here with a date? Cool. Me neither. You’re my date now.” You finished his sentence, letting out a small nervous laugh.

“Let me finish!” He scolded with a smile. “When you placed your hand in the crook of my arm, that was the moment I knew I was in love with you.” Your face grew a shocked expression. Butterflies swarmed throughout your stomach, not expecting him to be this direct. You also had no idea that he felt this way, and it was the most blissful surprise you’ve ever received.

“Quinn, I-” you started but he quickly cut you off.

“Y/n, I wanna be your person.” A small smile grew across your face. “I don’t want to be ‘best friend Quinn’ anymore. I wanna be ‘boyfriend Quinn’. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, and I'm sorry if this is weird o-or if it makes you uncomfortable, but it’s the truth.” You cupped his face, hinting at his nervousness. “I just love you so much, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t. It actually pains me to walk around telling people that I'm just your friend.” You bit your lip, smile growing wider. “Oh and by the way, you're an asshole for taking your shirt off in front of me like that.” Your mouth gaped open and you started laughing. “Do you know how hard it was not to look?” His voice grew from anxious to relieved at your reaction to his speech. You moved in closer, now with each of your legs on either side of his body.

“Does it make me evil if I told you I did it on purpose?” You scrunch your nose. 

“Yes!” He laughed making you laugh along with him. You nervously began playing with the strings of his hoodie, his hands moving to your waist.

“Quinn, I’ve waited for you to say those words since the day you taught me how to drive the boat in eighth grade.” His smile grew wide in relief pulling you in closer. Your faces now only inches apart. “Can I kiss you now?”

“Please.” He said eagerly as you closed the space between the two of you. Melting into his lips immediately, the kiss was one that had clearly been held back for far too long. His hands squeezed your waist while yours ran up through his soft hair. You parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth. You let out a soft moan at the feel of his hands moving down to your ass, a touch that you’ve wanted for so long, but could never express. You both pulled back, resting your foreheads against each other. The sound of the TV drowned out by the heavy breathing from the two of you. Quinn managed to steal one last peck from you, moving one of his hands up to cup your face.

“I love you so much, Quinn.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

[gaybananabread]

ARGHSH I was thinking maybe ler!Sero and Lee!gnReader for day 15 of tickletober????? TYSM if you decide to do this (it’s also ok of you don’t ToT)

I ABSOLUTELY LOVE YOUR WORK AND HOPE YOU HAVE A GREAT NIGHT/ DAY <33333333

TickleTober Day 15 - “Are you ticklish?”

~THANK YOU ANON!✨✨✨✨ Sero is best boy, no doubt about it. Fair warning, I haven’t watched the newest season yet, so this is gonna be written with the knowledge I have! As for the movie reference in here, let’s be honest: that scene with the spiders got a good few of us. I may or may not have let my old crush on Sero show here… Thank you for requesting, and I hope you Enjoy! Happy spooky season!~

Lee: Gender Neutral Reader (nickname “hon”)

Ler: Hanta Sero

Summary: What starts as an innocent movie hang-out becomes tickly chaos as Sero makes a rather interesting discovery. Unfortunately for you, he’s quite happy with the new source of entertainment.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don’t like that, scroll away!!

Movie night – an innocent enough idea, or so you’d thought. You and him hadn’t had much quality time as-of-late, so you penciled in some quick, low-effort fun.

And, of course, Sero had to be the one to choose the film. You weren’t complaining (much); he had pretty good taste in films. You just hadn’t expected him to pick a movie with…that in it.

Since it was October, Sero had chosen a spooky movie: Corpse Bride. You’d never seen it before, and it seemed interesting. He promised you’d like it, even betting his favorite hoodie that you’d wanna watch it again. You happily took those odds.

About three-fourths of the way through the movie, you were definitely into it. The stop-motion animation was really cool to watch, and the plot had you wondering which way it’d go.

Of course, you also had the world’s comfiest space heater next to you, his arm draped over your shoulder as you leaned against his side. That definitely helped you enjoy yourself.

You were completely relaxed and focused, zeroed in on the television screen. So, when the scene with the spiders came on, you were completely unprepared.

As the folk of the underworld were preparing Victor for the wedding, Victor’s suit was tailored by the spiders. At least six of the hand-sized arachnids crawled across his torso, each repairing some part of his suit.

Apparently, the legs tickled; he jerked about and laughed, squirming as they accidentally tickled him. It wasn’t a long scene, by any means, but it still caught you completely off guard.

Sero felt you squirm, glancing over to see what was going on. You were blushing…? The only thing happening on screen was a quick tickle scene. He saw your foot clench through your socks, and it all clicked. Oooo, I’m gonna have fun with this…

“You’re awfully red over there, hon. What’sa matter?” Sero gave your side a little squeeze, presumably to get your attention. He couldn’t hide his smirk as you jumped, loving the little sound that caught in your throat.

“I-I’m fine. Just…need a drink.” You reached over to grab your drink, only to have him tase your underarm. Squeaking, you back, falling right into his side. He barely had to try to capture you, just wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Hey…” He leaned in, dropping his voice to whisper teasingly in your ear. “Are you ticklish?”

The question somehow both made your blood run cold and your face burn at the same time. When he testingly dragged a few fingers across your stomach, you couldn’t help but giggle in response.

“I’ll take that as a yes~”

Ugh, even his tone was enough to send butterflies swarming in your chest! That wasn’t the only sensation there; Sero began attacking your stomach with his right hand, the left holding you against him. He gave your hip a few teasing squeezes, watching as you bucked and laughed.

“S-SEHEHEHERO!” Wriggling and kicking, you tried to shove his arms away. Unfortunately, the smug hero-in-training was stronger than you, keeping you trapped in his arms.

“Damn, you really are ticklish, aren't cha?” Sero mused, glancing over at the screen. He skillfully hit the remote with his toe, pausing the movie so only your laughter could be heard. He loved the sound of it: raucous, flustered, and utterly adorable.

Actually, your laugh sounded…really different. It was less reserved; you didn’t exactly have the choice to hold back, after all. The sound was free, helpless, and oh-so-happy. It brought a slight blush to his cheeks, making him huff.

“You’ve been holdin’ out on me, you brat!” The tape-quirked boy playfully growled, resting his head on your shoulder. He wasn’t sure if it was flustering or not, but it was comfy. “Where’s this pretty laugh been, huh?”

“I-IHIHIT’S NOHOT PREHEHETTY!” You denied the claim, kicking your feet against the worn cushions of his couch. It wasn’t helping you escape in the slightest, but it helped you not to lose your mind.

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

Suddenly, he stopped, giving you a moment to catch your breath. Fuck, that tone…he didn’t sound happy. You just huffed, shrugging.

“You don’t get to lie to my face. That has consequences.”

Before you could ask what he was talking about, he activated his quirk. Your wrists were taped together and hoisted above your head, the tail of the tape sticking to the ceiling. You were stuck to wiggle helplessly, back facing your attacker.

“I didn’t lie!” The annoyed huff told you that reasoning wasn’t gonna work. Begging it was, then. “W-wait, wait, Sero! I’m sorry!”

“Too little, too late. Sing for me~”

With that, the real attack began. Sero let his right hand attack your armpit, the other clawing at your stomach from behind. All the while, he whispered little teases in your ear, flustering the shit out of you. It was hardly fair, but you couldn’t really complain properly through your cackles.

"You have the prettiest laugh on Earth, hon. I'm not gonna let you forget it~"

As you squirmed and thrashed, your top began to ride up. It exposed your belly fully, and Sero was more than happy to take advantage of that.

“Don’t mind if I do…” He dragged his short nails across your bare midriff, loving the feeling of your quivering belly beneath his fingers. “I could do this aaaaall day, hon~”

You were losing it, thrashing and twisting to try and get the tape off. It held diabolically strong, leaving you trapped under Sero’s evil fingers. Eventually, you hit your limit, letting your head hang forwards.

“S-SEHEHEHEROHOHO! NOHO MOHOHOHORE!”

He begrudgingly stopped, sensing you had reached your limit. The tape was removed, and he pulled you back against his chest to cuddle. Utterly exhausted, you complied without a second thought.

“Geez, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as ticklish as you.” Sero chuckled, gently rubbing the stomach he had just finished tormenting. You just groaned in flustered annoyance, burying your face in his warm chest.

“Shut up, Hanta.” You used his first name to let him know he was pushing it. The head pats you received were close to compensation, but he had a long way to go.

Glancing over, you finally remember the movie the two of you were watching. You were about to fall asleep, so finishing it would have to wait until tomorrow. Actually…

“Hey, since we didn’t actually finish the movie, I can’t watch it again. I won the bet.” Watching his expression go from confusion to despair felt extra gratifying in that moment. He sputtered, trying and failing to come up with a reason to deny you. You’d found a loophole.

“Damn it…fine. You can have my Kuromi hoodie…brat.” You stuck your tongue out at him before cheering; you’d been after soft purple article for months.

Yeah, he was never gonna see that hoodie again…

Worth it.

[fetusgooseandjuice]

oh i didn’t know you hadn’t seen the venom movies! so sorry to put that on you! could you do a gwen stacy x fem!reader where r is bi but closeted and gwen helps her come out to her parents

I'll Wait For You

Pairing: Spider-Gwen x Fem!Reader

Summary: The request!

Word Count: 2.2k

Authors Note: No need to apologize, anon, don’t worry about it! I hope I did Gwen some justice with this fic! 😊

You were startled awake by three knocks on your bedroom window. With squinted eyes, you sat up slightly and tapped your phone screen to see that it was only a little past five in the morning. Who on earth would even be at your house this early?

Three more knocks sounded on your window, this time louder and seemingly more impatient which prompted you to sit all the way up. You swung your legs over the edge of your bed and made your way over to the window.

When you pulled back the curtains you were surprised to see Gwen crouched down on the roof as she normally didn’t return to you until later in the evening.

Recently, your time together has been limited because Gwen had been so busy with her spider duties, but she somehow always made time to see you everyday even if it wasn’t for that long.

Her eyes lit up at the sight of you as you unlocked your window and opened it, “Hey, baby,” she said with a bright smile.

“Gwen? What’re you doing here? Last night you said you had another mission today.” you asked as she climbed into your room.

“Well, I convinced Miguel to pass the rest of my assignments off to someone else because I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you.”

Gwen stepped closer to wrap her arms around you while your heart fluttered at her words. You relaxed into her embrace and let your head fall to her shoulder while your arms went around her neck, inhaling her familiar scent.

"I've missed you too." you said.

As you stood there in a comfortable silence, her words sank in. It was starting make you feel guilty that Gwen set aside her hero work to be with you while your parent's don't even know about your relationship.

You're not even out to them yet. Of course your parents know Gwen as you had been friends for a while before you began dating, but that's all your parents think it is.

A friendship.

You couldn't help but wonder if she was getting tired of all the secrecy, but you were too worried about your parent's reaction to the confession to do anything about it.

Gwen must've noticed the change in your demeanor because she broke the silence, "What's going on in the pretty head of yours, hm?" she wondered as she pressed a kiss to your hairline.

It took you a moment to gather your thoughts before responding, "Are you not tired of waiting for me?" you asked.

She furrowed her eyebrows at the question, "What do you mean?"

You buried your face in the crook of her neck to avoid her gaze before adding on, “Does it not bother you that my parents don’t know about us? About me?”

She shook her head, “I don’t mind, Y/N. I mean of course I would love for your parents to know about us, but not until you’re ready for them to know. What brought this on?”

You just shrugged your shoulders, “You were ready to take a break from being spider-woman to be able to spend more time with me while I’m too scared to even tell my parents that I also like girls. I’m just worried that you’ll get sick of hiding.”

Gwen rubbed her hand along your back to reassure you. She hated seeing you so worked up. “You don’t have to worry about that, baby. As long as I get to be with you I’m okay with it, and when and only when you’re ready to tell them, I’ll be there with you. I don’t care how long it takes. I’ll wait for you.” she spoke to you ever so softly.

You lifted your head from her neck to look at her.

“There are those beautiful eyes.” she grinned and you giggle.

“Are you sure?” you asked, referring to her assuring statement from just a moment ago.

Gwen gazed at you as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “Without a doubt in my mind."

You stared into her eyes before leaning in to press your lips against hers. You don't know what you had done to deserve Gwen and her patience, but you were grateful for it nonetheless.

As you pulled away from the kiss, her comforting voice replayed in your mind.

When you're ready to tell them, I'll be there with you.

“I think I’m ready. I want to tell them.” you practically whispered.

Gwen slightly frowned in confusion at your words. She thought the whole reason for this conversation was because you were scared she’d get bored of having to sneak around since you weren’t out to your parents yet.

“Y/N, I don’t want you to feel pressured into saying something if—”

You quickly interrupted her, “No, no. I am ready. I want to tell them about us because I know that no matter their reaction I’ll have you, right?”

A small smile graced her lips, “You’ll always have me, but I want you to be one-hundred percent certain. Are you?”

“Without a doubt in my mind.” you said and she chuckled when she realized you repeated her words from earlier.

You pecked her lips again before bringing her into another hug. Your fingers lovingly grazed the baby hairs growing on the nape of her neck as you yawned, the sleep you were missing out on from being woken up so early now catching up to you.

Gwen laughed and slightly pulled back to look at your tired eyes, “Sleepy?”

You playfully rolled your eyes, “Yeah, because somebody decided to show up at my window at five in the morning like a creep and wake me up.”

You peeled yourself off her and ran a hand through your hair as you moved to close your curtains, effectively blocking out the sunlight from the rising sun.

“Well you do look very cute when you just wake up.”

“I look a mess.” you disagreed.

Gwen watched as you climbed back into your bed and pulled the covers over you, making yourself comfortable.

When you looked back her you raised your eyebrow, 'Well are you just gonna stand there or are you gonna come cuddle me. You owe it to me anyway for waking me up this early."

She jokingly scoffed and kicked her shoes off before sliding under the covers next to you, "You're not worried about your parents walking in?" she asked as you situated yourself to curl up to her.

You shook your head, "No, they won't wake up for a few hours. If we decide to fall asleep I'll just set an alarm."

She agreed and wrapped her arms around you, securing you against her, "I love you, Y/N." she whispered, but it was loud enough for you to hear her.

"I love you too, Gwen.

~ ~ ~

This time you woke up to the repetitive chime of your alarm. You groaned and blindly reached over to tap your phone screen, eventually shutting off the alarm.

You rolled back over to look at your girlfriend who was somehow still asleep despite the sudden sound. "Gwen," you whispered.

She hummed, letting you know that she heard you but her eyes remained closed, "Baby," you spoke softly, "We've got to wake up now before my parents do."

Gwen just tightened her arm around you to bring you closer, "We can spare a few more minutes." she mumbled. You were about insist once more until you were interrupted by a loud grumbling of her stomach.

You giggled as she let her eyes flutter open, "Sounds to me like your stomach thinks otherwise." you joked.

Gwen just playfully glared at you. Reaching for your phone you checked the time, "Come on, we still have about an hour before they normally wake up. We can get something to eat real quick."

She groaned as you rolled out of bed and took her hand to pull her up with you before making your way out of your room and down the stairs. When you walked into the kitchen your heart had nearly jumped out of your chest at the sight of your parents sitting at the dining table.

They were sipping on cups of coffee with plates of breakfast sitting in front of them.

"Good morning, dear—” your mom greeted, but her train of thought was quickly lost when she saw the girl next to you, "Gwen? When did you get here? We didn't see you come in."

It wasn't an unusual thing to you parents for Gwen to be at your house often as she was your best friend, but they were confused as to why she was here this early in the morning.

"Oh, not long ago. I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep so I decided to come over. I came in through the window instead of the front door so I didn't wake anyone else up because it was so early." Gwen quickly came up with some justification for her being here.

Your parents seemed to have bought it because they just nodded their heads and returned to what they were doing before, "There's some extra food on the stove for you girls if you're hungry." your father spoke.

You thanked him and made your way further into the kitchen to get a plate of food with Gwen following behind. You looked at Gwen and flicked your eyes towards the dining table. She nodded, making a silent agreement to join your parents at the table.

They didn't seem to notice when you sat situated yourself in the seats across from them as they appeared to be in their own little worlds. You looked to Gwen once again and she gave you another little nod, placing a comforting hand on your thigh.

You cleared your throat, "Um. Mom, dad," you said and they looked up at you, the sudden attention slightly startling you, "I have something that I want to tell you."

Your parents shared a look before turning back to you, "Are you okay? What is it, honey?" your mother asked.

"I'm fine, it's just— I need to tell you something and I want you to promise me that nothing is gonna change. That you'll still see me the same way you do now and you'll still love me."

The way you were talking was worrying your parents and they looked at each other with concern in their eyes.

"Of course we'll still love you, sweetheart, but was is it? You're starting to scare us."

You glanced at Gwen and she squeezed your thigh. You didn't want to beat around the bush but you also didn't know how you were supposed to say it, so you just blurted it out.

"I like girls." you said.

Silence rang through the room so you continued, "I—I like girls, and guys. I like both, but-- but I wanted to tell you that I like girls too." you were stuttering a ton and your voice was shaking, but you couldn't help it. "And— and Gwen isn't just my friend. We're dating."

You couldn't quite read the expression on your parents face which made you even more anxious. You felt like you could almost cry. Gwen rubbed her hand up and down your thigh, letting you know that she was still here.

"Is that all?" your mom asked.

You gulped and nodded your head, becoming confused when your parents glanced at each other with amusement on their faces.

"Oh, honey, we've been known that." your mom chuckled.

Your eyes widened at her words, "You-- what?"

"Y/N, we're not clueless. We see the way you two look at each other, it's almost obvious, but we were waiting for you to come to us." you father jumped in.

You opened your mouth to speak, but you didn't exactly know what to say, "So, you're not mad?" you eventually wondered.

A smiled spread across your mothers face, "Of course not, Y/N. You're our daughter and we'll always love you. We've known Gwen for a while too and we adore her, so we're relieved you picked someone like her."

It felt as though a huge weight had been lifted off of your shoulders listening to your mom. You were surprised to say the least that they already knew, but you weren't complaining.

"Thank you." was all you managed to get out.

"You don't have to thank us, sweetie. We're your parents, it's what we're supposed to do. Now come here." You let your parents envelope you in a warm hug that made you feel so safe.

Their voices were slightly muffled from the embrace, but you could make out a few "we love you's", and "we'll always be here for you's". When they pulled back your father looked towards Gwen who sat with a big smile on her face.

"Now just because I've known you prior to you dating my daughter, Gwen, doesn't mean you get to escape 'the talk'" he joked and Gwen laughed along with him, "Just take care of my daughter, okay?"

Gwen smiled at you, "I promise I always will."

[woneuntonzz]

greatest comedian ≈ s.es, o.str

popularguy!eunseok x afab!reader x bestfriend!shotaro

“god must be the greatest comedian I know.”

contains: angst, fluff, comfort, cursing, pining (ig), mentions of alcohol, slightly suggestive jokes, humor (lmao)

wordcount: 10.8k

a/n: i'm back :0 (kinda) i'm gonna try and get to my asks soon pls wait for me :<

songfic inspired by:

“You’re funny!”

He’s heard it countless times. And he truly was. Truly, he was a delight to be around. He reveled in the laughter and amusement of others. Your image of him was no different from everyone else’s. You’ve always thought he was funny. But somehow he’s never made you laugh. Well, all he’s ever done is bring your self-doubts to afloat, and served a great part in creating this big barricade in your academic life that you’ve been trying to get through for over a year now. 

“You still like that guy? For real?” you breathe out a chuckle to your friend’s query, in harmony with the sounds of the keyboard’s clicks as you make yourself busy.

“Yes, Natty.” your voice was soft as you replied and as you did you felt Natty’s hand landing calmly on your shoulder. 

“Ever thought of confessing?” —I have, I do all the time— you say to yourself. “I mean, who knows, he might like you too.”

You almost guffawed, but Natty would only lay her head on your shoulder and she’d snap her head up at you when you answered, “On another universe, maybe. I don’t exist in his little theater show.”

“What a way to refer to someone’s blooming social life.” you darted your eyes at Natty’s poking, turning the both of you into a bundle of laughter. 

If only he could hear the melody that sounded from your lips. “Why’d you say it like I don’t have a social life?”  

“Miss Y/n, I did not say that at all. You’re delusional!” your friend gave you a light push, your arms crossing on top of one another on your chest. 

“I am not delusional!” you kept the kid in your tone whilst appearing offended. 

In fact, you truly weren’t. While as a youngin you’d hope every coincidence bore meanings, you grew up to face reality, though not accepting it entirely. A part of you hoped there was a small spark that went off every time you met his gaze, that he was just as withdrawn with you as you were with him because he was shy, that he only pretended to not care about you because he liked you too. But a view of him from afar —how his life was a movie in itself— told you you’d be nothing more but a mere extra in the extravagance of his daily proceedings. 

So when prom came around, while everyone else scurried around to find their dates, you just stood still —more accurately, sat and waited for anything interesting to happen in your life— and watched the pretty girls being picked out by men of all kinds like flowers on a nice green field. You just hated that by the end of prom night, this nice field of tamed green grass will turn into a rowdy, muddy mess stepped on by those men —if you could even call them that. The view wasn’t as sweet to you like how everyone else saw it, but perhaps it was because you were bitter. 

“Aren’t you excited for prom night? I heard Jacob will DJ this year, I bet it’s gonna be awesome.” you shrugged at your friend, unsure if you were even gonna go to prom. 

“I bet you’ll have loads of fun.” your friend was quick to pick up on your masked expression, much to your surprise.

“Hmm, is this about…” he looks you right in the eyes,“Bingo! code Eun—”

“Shh!” you bit your lip after shushing him, containing the laugh that threatened to escape from you. “Keep it down!”

“Oh, sorry.” a jesting evil chuckle was evoked from him making your face scrunch up. He laughs at you and motions like he’s about to pinch your face. “But, hear me out. Why don’t you ask him out?”

You sighed as an array of reasons popped up in your head. “Even if I had the courage to do that did you really think he’d say yes? To me?” your friend snorted at your tone, and again, looks you right in the eyes. 

“Why not?” you raised your brows as a way of asking him if he was being serious, “Look, just being for real here, you’re pretty enough to overthrow those ‘popular girls’, your cute, your talented, your actually interesting —I mean what’s there not to like?”

You gave yourself a second to think and your eyes followed the lines separating each tile on the floor, and from the distance you saw him. You were in the cafeteria, and for some reason not with Natty. Some guy named Eric had asked her to meet him in some classroom, you’ve heard from some of his friends that he was asking Natty out to prom and planned a surprise. Meanwhile your dream date was sat five tables away from where you were. Laughter filled the table he and his friends occupied. He must be so funny then.

“Y/n?” Your friend’s voice was all it took for you to avert your eyes from Eunseok. “It’s kinda rude to just stare at your crush and daydream mid conversation, just so you know.”

You can’t help but laugh, at your friend’s jovial banter and at yourself for being so pathetic. “Sorry, Sho.”

“I was kidding, it’s totally fine Miss scared-of-confrontations.” you playfully rolled your eyes at him. 

“I’m not scared of confrontations.” but his words took you a step back and you thought maybe you truly were scared of confrontations. 

“Yeah? prove it! prove it! prove it!” and he kept repeating it like a kid and you had to shush him again. “Ask him out!”

“Shotaro, I've never wanted to punch someone this bad in my life before, just stop.” and he just laughs at you again. You look to your side, and coincidentally right into his eyes. It would’ve been the highlight for your day, the best day of your week —your life even— if not for the flowers he held in his hand. And no, they weren’t for you. You thought they could never be for you. He held them in his hands whilst he wore that grin that drew everybody in his presence. You looked away, not wanting to see the events waiting to unfold before you. 

“Let’s go, Sho.” you took hold of Shotaro’s wrist, dragging him out of the cafeteria with you. Once you were out of the bustling atmosphere, you started sprinting, still not letting go of your friend.

“Where are we going?” and then suddenly you stopped. 

You could see Natty holding hands with Eric from the other end of the hallway, and some of Eric’s friends tagging along from behind. 

“Oh, so that’s where Natty’s been. No wonder.” you hear Shotaro utter quietly from behind you. 

“Yeah. No wonder.” your lips spread to a small smile, seeing how happy Natty actually is. You just hope Eric isn’t just another guy.

“Hey, Y/n, why’d you pull me out of the cafeteria? I was trying to skin the fried tofu with my tee—”

“Sorry, I just didn’t want to see it —them, I mean.” your friend just stared at you, confused, and it showed on his face. A soft, but bitter laugh came out of your mouth. You figured Shotaro might’ve not seen what you saw, or maybe he didn’t care. “‘You-know-who’ was gonna ask some lucky girl to prom.”

“Really? Lucky?” he promptly shakes his head, and now you’re confused. “I don’t even know why I asked —anyways, I saw Mr.’Funny-Guy’ holding a bouquet. You know, for a second I thought you became Flash and just gave him those and asked him out to prom at ten times speed.” you laugh, and in all honesty just wanting to look past everything you saw, and everything that might’ve or did happen after the two of you ran off.

“Yeah. Very lucky.” Shotaro shook his head again, keeping his eyes on the smile that he could recognize from all the times you have found yourself on a disappointing stand. 

“I’m sorry to say this, but, Eunseok isn’t all that. You can have fun without him. You have Natty —or maybe not her because she’s probably gonna spend time with that guy— me! you have me! and Minji, though I’ve heard someone had asked her out, that's probably why she’s not around right now…”

With pursed lips and crossed arms, you searched for the sense in his words, and when you had found it he was already looking back at you. Tilting your head to the side, you hum, a nod following shortly after. Shotaro was once again confused. 

“Shotaro, how do you feel about going to prom with me?” you almost guffawed when he shrugged.

“Well, my plan was to just stick by you the whole night so we could have fun, so, technically…” he was suddenly stuck. “We’re best friends and all…”

“Yeah, but like, I’m actually asking you to be my date. Since we’re best friends and all.” you mimicked the tone that displaced his playful one when he spoke earlier. He scrunches his nose at you as some sort of counter-attack. 

“Okay. That’s great.” he mirrors your pose and crosses his arms as well, and you both tilt your head at the same time —and it was soon followed by laughter.

Osaki Shotaro is probably the third funniest person I know, or, should he be second? —you jot down on your notes app. You now lay on your bed, just a few nights away from prom. Your notes app became a little get away for you as it was easier to type than to write things down. You swear that the world will burn once someone has seen the things you’ve very diligently typed in the app. It was your safe space, locked away from everyone. Even from Natty. Even from Shotaro. I wonder what I should wear. I wonder what he’s gonna wear, what his date would wear. She for sure said yes. Who wouldn’t? I would, a hundred percent. I’m gonna have to make sure we don’t wear the same dress, not even the same color. What’s a rare color? —your thoughts were a river with no end. It just flowed, especially when you lay alone in your room paying mind to nothing with being in such a secluded and quiet place. You were there, the cold air against your exposed skin, but you would feel nothing of it. You were deep within the depths of your perception. You itched to know. Who was the girl? —and if you were being honest, you missed any signs of him being infatuated with someone else. Who am I kidding? It couldn’t be me.

For the days that followed, you kept your mind on what to wear. Of course, not without crossing paths with Song Eunseok. He seemed his usual self —if not happier. You refuse to see it that way, to accept that whoever she might be, she’s making him twice the smiley guy he is. You’d reunite with Natty and Minji eventually. They asked if you were attending prom night because they’ve heard of the news. It had seemed as if everyone saw it coming. Maybe they are a match. Maybe they just look that good together. Maybe they’re made for each other. 

“Maybe he just asked out a friend, you know, for a friendly date of sorts. Like you and Taro!” as sweet as Natty could be, you just truly wanted to avoid conversations regarding you-know-who. You’d just smile, not sparing her a look.

It was your way of telling people to stop talking about something that upset you, and Shotaro noticed right away even though you were late to catch up on your sides pressed against each other when he scoots closer. “Natty’s right.” he was regretful of that reply, so he’d quickly avert from the topic of you-know-who. “By the way Y/n, what are you gonna wear? the color and stuff, we can match.” your head snaps up, being reminded you should’ve been getting ideas for your outfit instead of being dazed over a boy that has never even bothered to acknowledge your presence. 

“I don’t know yet. I don’t have ideas right now. Do you?” you finally look over to Shotaro, and for a second you’d jolt seeing the tip of your nose and his only a little over an inch from touching. 

He backed away almost instantly with a swift reply of, “I don’t have any either. I mean, it’d be fine by me to take charge if we didn’t have to follow an attire.”

Smack. Timely, you both gasped hearing such a loud sound coming from one of your friend —Minji, who was looking a little more enthusiastic than usual. “I have an idea. Let’s all shop together. Natty and I can work on both of you.”

Natty’s beam infected you when you looked over at her because you knew they got your backs. And that was one thing off your checklist of worries. Only a few hundred more to tick. 

“My mom said she wanted to help you get ready for prom night.” —and with a few flips of a textbook you were already off and walking back home with Shotaro, like usual.

“Really? I mean, I suppose it’d be easier if I was there, then you wouldn’t have to pick me up.” you reply with a slight pout, giving his offer —or rather his mother’s— serious consideration.

“I mean, it could be that or you join us for dinner tonight. I kind of figured Auntie would prefer it if she was the one who helped you, you’re her daughter after all, aren’t you?” your hand came to catch the laughter from your lips as he spoke. A laugh, and a sneeze, to which Shotaro responds with, “Ew.”

“Don’t ‘ew’ me!” his giggles slid through your ears, filling it up with his sweet melody. “Ew.” and of course you had to bite back. 

“What? 'ew' what?” and he kept giggling.

You could only chuckle to yourself, biting down on your bottom lip. “Nothing” you breathe out. 

It couldn’t be just nothing. Or at least he hoped. And so like every rational and mature man, he snatched the hairpin that held your poorly cut bangs from your face and ran. He was lucky it sled off easily. You chased him whilst calling out for his name, threatening him with actions you would never do. You could never. All while he giggled to himself like a little boy. 

♪ ♪ ♪

[A week ago…]

Everyone tends to only consider what’s on the surface of the water, unknowing of the storm that lies underneath the seas.

“What about Shotaro?” “Forget him.”

No apparent aggression, but betrayal could be sensed with the constant fall of his intonation as he continued to speak, “He chose her over us.” and his breath falls along with his hands that got done with smoothing out the wrinkles on his uniform.

“I mean, you would too. Isn’t that why you two got into a fight?” he shrugged at his friend.

And then laughed.

“What’s so funny?” The friend had furrowed eyebrows as he inspected the demeanor of the man before him.

“He’s talking to her everyday now. Me on the other hand?” he looks to his left, the body-length mirror of his room. “I’m so close, yet so far. I don’t even think I amuse her.”

“Why not? you’re Song Eunseok, the funny —and insanely hot guy, come on now.” 

“Yeah. That’s the problem. Funny, insanely… hot?” 

The two laughed in chorus. 

“What’s the point of being so admired by so many people if the one I’ve been admiring doesn’t even give a flying fuck?” Eunseok shook his head as he spoke, facing his mirror and checking his reflection. “If anything she probably hates —no, not hate, but she doesn’t like me. For sure.” he straightens the collar of his shirt. 

“The popular guy stigma.” he laughs at his friend’s sigh, and he replies,

“It’s true for some people. I could see why she might think I’m like them.” he smiled but his movements would be a complete contrast to it as he kept fixing nothing and dusting off nothing on his uniform. “Say we weren’t friends, and you’re a transferee, how would you see me?” he turns around to face his friend who was flummoxed with his sudden question. 

“Well, I’m an extrovert myself, so I’d probably ask you to hang out first and foremost. You’re fine as hell, you’re quite the character.” Eunseok’s eyes traveled to the ground after hearing his friend’s response. He couldn’t quite tell if it was genuine or was just a guise to amuse him. This friend was not like the ones he once had in his life. Not like Shotaro. Not like you. 

“Character?” Eunseok chuckled to himself. “I wonder if this… character was why we grew apart.” 

“You and Shotaro?”

“Yes, and no.” Eunseok’s heavy sigh almost startled the other boy. “I’m talking about the girl.” a silent ‘oh’ was exuded from the boy’s mouth as he watched the other who moved to take a seat next to him. “I don’t get how moving schools cut our ties. Shotaro and I were still friends after I moved. I mean, we were neighbors. But still. Did she really not care about me?” 

“Probably. Girls do that, don’t they?” Eunseok laughed again, with knitted brows this time.

“No. We’ll never know.” he says, running his tongue over his top lip before he continued, “We’re a bunch of dicks. How would we know?”

And they guffawed. 

“Just ask her out to prom. Before Shotaro does.” Eunseok nods at his friend. “I bet you fifty bucks you can get her to say yes empty handed.”

“Dude, it’s not in me to not give her anything.” 

[Present Day]

If I can make you laugh, you’re going to prom with me.

It would’ve been raining diamonds if he was able to carry out his plan. He would make her laugh then she’s all his for prom night, and hopefully for the days that follow. 

But now he stood —oddly quiet— with his friends in a corner shop near school buying whatever shit they had to buy. “Hey nice guy! What's up? Is your mouth glued shut? stapled?” 

One of his friends had laid their arm over his shoulders, tightening his hold when Eunseok didn’t answer immediately. “I’m fine. I think the store ran out of condoms.” the other snorts at his answer, a poor attempt at a joke.

“Do virgins eat condoms?” a loud ‘tsk’ would follow after, “If you’re getting fucked it’s by something up there in your cranium. Tell me.”

Eunseok sighed as he mustered up the guts to tell. “I didn’t get the girl.”  

Surprised, and quite perplexed, his friend removed his arm from him to look him in the eyes saying, “What do you mean? I thought Gaeul said yes?”

“It was never Gaeul.”

“Then who?”

“You.” Eunseok grabs his friend's face, pretending to pull him in for a kiss. His friend —like every straight man— would counteract his actions. 

“Ew dude, I’m not fucking gay, for the last time!”

“It’s always been you.”

Eunseok would let go of his friend hearing another one of their friends approaching as she laughed. “Hi nice guy!”

“And hi to you too, Miss Korea.” the girl giggles at Eunseok’s reply. 

“Is it true? You and Heeseung have been sleeping together?” Eunseok smirked, hearing the girl’s jesting.

“What?” Before Heeseung could speak again, Eunseok butts in with a quip. 

“Oh, yes! But he hides it, he must be ashamed of me —ashamed of loving me!” dramatic, and exaggerated, still it was one for the titters.

“I hate you, Yuna. Have a nice fucking day.” and Heeseung walks out whilst the two continue laughing amongst themselves. 

The cackles died down once the two were left alone as their friends continued to roam the shop.

“Hey, not to be nosy or anything, but did you seriously not mean to ask Gaeul? sorry I just heard —I promise I wasn’t actively listening in.” Yuna even waved her hands in front of her face to dismiss any misinterpretations. 

And with a small smile, Eunseok breathes in to reply to her. “It’s okay. We weren’t exactly being discreet about it at all.” his eyes shifted along the shelves that sandwiched the two of them. “But yeah. I asked Gaeul because, I don’t know, why not?” 

Yuna nods at a broken pace for a couple of seconds as she tries to understand, getting caught up in some holes as she went through what he told her one more time before asking, “So, then, who were you meant to ask?”

“Doesn’t matter. She’s got a date already anyways. I got a date, she got a date, you got a date, everyone gets a date. It’s gonna be fun.” he displays a wide smile, but it was almost robotic in a way that made Yuna huff trying to get over how ridiculous he looked at the moment. “Do you mind me asking about your date Miss Korea?” 

“Well, I was hoping this guy would ask me. But I don’t think he had me in mind at all. But yeah, I’m going with Sungchan, you're going with Gaeul, we all have dates. Let’s be happy.” Eunseok chuckled at the way her voice imitated his in some way. 

“Yeah. Let’s be happy.”

♪ ♪ ♪

It’s been an hour or two of Natty and Minji flitting around the boutique to find you and Shotaro some nice outfits for prom night. The theme? “Retro romance.”

“It’s fun but I feel like there could be better themes. There’d be dozens of polkadot skirts, I can already see it.” Natty mumbles in between picking out a few dresses for you to try on. She holds out a shirt dress, yellow with hints of white in a gingham pattern. “This is pretty retro, right? we could pair it with a belt and a skimmer hat with a purple ribbon.” Natty scans the piece of clothing, moving closer to you and holding it out next to your figure. 

Your head snaps instantly when you hear an utterance next to you, “It looks cute.” Shotaro was a bit taken aback with how all three of you stopped just to look at him just because of his short little comment.

Minji approached, coming from a section of the boutique just a little farther from where the three of you were. She came walking with a few items at hand. It was a plain long sleeve shirt, white, a plaid suit vest —in the same color as the dress Natty held—, and some flared trousers in a darker shade of yellow, just a little muted. 

“Oh my god, oh my god, you guys need to get into the fitting rooms right now!” you giggled at the way Natty gushed and rushed to get you and Shotaro on your feet. 

Her giggles were all it took for you and Shotaro to speed to the fitting rooms. Once the dress went over your head and the skirt settled against your bare legs, your hands traced the shape of your waist seeing how perfectly the dress fits and hugs your body. You loved how the color complemented your skin. Like a perfect painting, freshly polished. You walked out of the fitting room, eyes glued to the flow of the skirt. Once your feet have crossed the line that separated the fitting room from the rest of the boutique, your eyes land on the floor. Your lone feet were now joined by another pair dressed in white Nike air force 1s.

Looking up to your right, smiling eyes greet your own. “Sho, you look dapper!” your exclaim lifted the corners of his mouth to their highest point. 

“Wait till I get my hair done.” he says with his chest up and then playfully biting his lower lip. 

You laugh at his face, slightly shoving him from where he stood with a light push. He —very gently— bumps his shoulder onto yours, causing you to tilt a tad. With a little chortle, you tell him, “You don’t really need to get it done. It looks good the way it is.” as you ruffle his hair.

He lets out a giggle, so soft and gleeful. “Whatever you say, pretty.”

Walking back to your friends, from a distance, their eyes welcomed the two of you. Their compliments almost fell from the end of their tongues. A gasp leaped over Natty’s words, her hand rushing to catch her breath. “You look cute together!” and you almost gagged from all the cooing. As opposed to you, Shotaro just smiled, his eyes were smiling too. Smiling at you. It wasn’t anything out of the ordinary —you’d convince yourself. But your cognition went offbeat when you met his eyes, and yours would hastily look around for something, anything to subside the feeling that was simmering from within you. 

You were thankful that Minji made her comment before anyone noticed. “You look like twin bananas.” your face would scrunch up, and she’d slightly repel, speaking again, “I was trying to say the colors looked cute!” you hear Shotaro’s giggle again. Instinctively, you peered at him. Your best friend.

He used to be your best friend too. 

“Y/n?” 

You shook your head, your lips forming the best smile you could pull out of your blues. You raised your brows at your best friend who had called you out of your thoughts. “I like these outfits. Let’s get them, yeah?”

“Yeah. I like them too.” he nods along with his words. “Told you you’d look great in anything!” he gently nudges at you when he spews the acclaim.

Just days before he assured you that finding a decent outfit would be no problem, emphasizing that “you already look good with just our school uniform on.” —you’d dispense a hearty cackle, though, you knew he must’ve been sincere with it all, you only intended to humor the situation. All for the sake of not having to foster thoughts about everything he’s said to and done for you for the past two weeks after the ‘you-know-who incident’. 

All the while ‘you-know-who’ feigned folly. It was the only way he could ever allow himself to overlook the facts that unfolded from across the street in front of him. The fact that her happiness radiated in high magnitudes. The fact that she laughed with someone else, wore stupid banana-colored matching outfits with someone else —that she laughed with that guy as if he was the greatest comedian she knew. It was the fact that she was happier without him, and that he could never make her laugh like whilst she held on her tummy as her face formed creases of joy. She was only on her way out when he saw her. It’s the happiest he’s ever seen her. No matter how much he loathed the cause of your glee, seeing her smile, grin and giggle made him float to the skies. He daydreamed about what it could sound like, her laughter. Must be delightful with how tightly the other guy had clutched onto her hand. Eunseok looked away before he could fall any deeper. He crossed the road, and her too. He caught a whiff of her almond saffron perfume, and he fished for her gaze only to be met with the eyes he despised the most. “Osaki Shotaro pisses me off.”

Eunseok was now in a cafe to meet up with Gaeul for the first time ever since asking her out to prom —impulsively. She was yet to arrive, so he got on the phone with his dear friend Yeonjun. “We know, we know. But if you’re that competitive why don’t you make moves huh?” Eunseok breathes out a scoff after hearing Yeonjun’s taunting.

“If you knew me at all, you know i’m all but competitive.” Eunseok kept his gaze on the bell above the door, any moment from then it could sound Gaeul’s arrival, not that it was enough for him to pay mind to. 

“Yeah, you’re all that, aren’t you?” Yeonjun tittered from the other line. He calmed himself down at an instant when he realized that Eunseok was shut quiet. “You know, Sungchan told me something about his sister, Y/n.” Eunseok had parted his lips, but was unable to utter his next words —those which he had trouble finding— so Yeonjun spoke again, “He said she liked one of her best friends back then. It could be you or Shotaro, but what if it’s been you all along?”

Foot tapping at a pained tempo, Eunseok almost choked holding back a guffaw. “Me? Was I the one she’s been hanging out with? was I the one by her side when her dog died? or when she received such a shitty exchange gift when she had spent loads of time and money for her gift?” Eunseok swore he could see Yeonjun with pursed lips. 

The bell sounded just as Yeonjun replied, “It’s not entirely impossible—” *phone beeps* Eunseok ends the phone when Gaeul greets him with heart eyes. Like every girl would. 

It didn’t make sense to Eunseok. Every other girl liked him, stared at him for too long sometimes. You were —in his world— every girl. You were the girl that laughed at him when he skinned his knee while he raced against the wind with his bicycle. You were the girl that gave him your frosted animal crackers when he left his lunch box at home. You were the girl that hid her face when she cried after he had told her that he was moving away with his family. You were the girl that pretended not to recognize him at the themepark when he came around to visit again. You were the girl who continued to shun him everyday now that you were in the same highschool. You were all that —and more— to him. You were every girl in his life, in his story, in the little sit-com he lived in.

“So, what do you plan on taking for college?” he stared at the girl who queried him, though it was not clear to her —nor to himself what exactly he was staring for, or at rather. 

Eunseok clears his throat, digging around in his mind for the answer, “I plan to take a b-a —uh, public relations.” he chuckled seeing how she fought the grimace from spreading throughout her face. “Sorry if i’m not the computer science or architecture typa guy.”

Gaeul quickly wards off any misunderstandings by hastily shaking her head as she utters, “Sorry, I just haven’t heard that from anyone before. In fact, I'm quite unfamiliar with it.” he leisurely nods, his teeth subtly digging into his bottom lip at the last rise of his head. “Would you mind explaining it to me? your career path and all.”

He raised his brows, a low chuckle, barely audible, was trapped behind his pressed lips. “No, not at all.” maybe, just maybe, he could get his head out of the past, the memories of you. You. Maybe after he’s gotten to know this girl that actually acknowledged his presence and seemed to be genuinely curious to seek for what’s beyond his social persona. The talk was definitely long enough for their lava-hot coffee cups to run cold. And surprisingly for him, there was more gained than said.

♪ ♪ ♪ 

Prom night came around, but before it did you made sure to avoid crossing paths with him, or taking turns at the wrong corners and run into him and Gaeul —again. You were never able to be verbal with how grateful you were that Shotaro had been sticking to you ever since you’ve gone to the boutique. His puns and your exchanged banters drew your attention away from Eunseok. 

At prom night, Shotaro picked you up with his dad’s car. You scrambled around looking for your purse when you saw him from outside your living room window. He leaned his back against the driver’s seat door, waiting and anxiously fiddling with his fingers. You released a deep exhale once you were faced with your front door. Shotaro stared at the door mat, and when he saw that bright yellow skirt flowing with the cold wind of the night, he gazed up. His eyes lit up as if they had sparklers in them. He had seen you in this dress before —at the boutique, but somehow the atmosphere and the anticipation of taking your hand in his and dancing with you on the dance floor all night made him feel like it was his first time ever trying to catch your eyes behind that beige skimmer hat you wore. 

With only a few five steps distancing the two of you, you greet him. “Hi.”

“Hello.” after a minute of —unnecessary— loud silence, you both burst out laughing. “I’m Shotaro, and this pretty girl’s name would be?...”

Your hands settled on your waist, tilting your head —and finally locking your eyes with his. Your lips would curve into a small smile, giving into his little roleplay. “The name's Y/n.” you hold your hand out for a handshake, and you receive it in no time.

“Well, good eve Miss Y/n. It’s my first time seeing you around here, perhaps you’re from out of town?” you suppress your giggle, lips pursed as you composed yourself.

“I could say the same about you.” he chuckles at you, eyes all smiley, like always.

“It doesn’t have to matter pretty, would you dance with me tonight?” he asks with raised brows, and a voice silk like whiskey. 

Though his voice caused a short stagnation with your breathing, you cleared your throat, hoping that would ease the one-sided tension. Then suddenly, you gasped, “And for you to expect me to go out with a stranger? how bold!” and very dramatically too.

His eyes dilated, again, laughing against his lips. He gradually pulled his occupied hands from behind his back at the same pace at which he spoke. “Maybe, a little gift would change your mind?” and by then, a bouquet of chocolates —your favorite kind— was being waved, just slightly, right in front of you. 

“What? I thought you were saving up? those are expensive!” a hefty load of air went through your nose, taking in the sweet scents of cocoa and sugar.

“Not really expensive, just pricey—”

“Same thing!” Shotaro’s chest was struck by your gentle hand, and he’d hold it there. Your palm was pressed against his heartbeat. You kept your eyes on your hand as you felt for the thumps on his chest. It was paced and certainly not calm. “Sho… you okay?”

With your gaze up at him and a flick of your lashes, his hand found its way on top of yours. And for a while, he’d clasp onto your hand, his grip growing tighter with every count of a second. He gently guides your hand off his chest, lowering it on level with your waist. “I’m taking that as a yes, pretty.” he utters softly as he guides you to the passenger seat of the car. 

Once you were seated, you stared straight ahead, not minding Shotaro who went around again to get into the driver’s seat. You anxiously fiddled with the fabric of your skirt, and once you heard the driver’s seat door close, you patted down the cloth and smoothened it with your hands. 

“Are you okay Y/n?” the boy beside you asks, and you —obviously— had thoughts running in your head by the looks of your eyes alone. 

“Yeah, it’s just…” you were quite embarrassed to admit, “I don’t get why I’m like this either, but…” but it’s nothing Shotaro hadn’t heard from you, right? “I don’t know if I’ll enjoy it if I saw him there with another girl. I’m sorry, Sho.”

You watched as Shotaro’s hands took grasp of the wheel, his thumb grazing against the leather ever so slightly. “Prom is not about Song Eunseok. We can very much enjoy it without seeing him at all. How about we just pretend he doesn’t exist for the night? how’s that sound?” He was calm, and so sweet sounding. He held out his hand with his palm facing the sky, offering to ease your worries. 

You took this offer, just for the sake of feeling better and getting your mind off of who wasn’t there for you, and who hasn’t been for eight years. “Thank you, Sho.”

Now his thumb grazed over the skin of your hand. “Anytime. You know I love you, right?” 

“I know, you’ve been telling me that since we were kids.” you giggled at each other, before the engine started and you were both off to prom night.

♪ ♪ ♪

For most of the night, you stuck by Shotaro —as promised— and you two danced, even though you were quite the dancer yourself, he urged you to join him. It was fun, even more so for him. He was so kind to you tonight, so gentle. Well, he’s Shotaro, and he’s made you smile, giggle, titter with his little jokes, his compliments, his smile. 

“Thank you for tonight.” you were sitting at an empty table. You had laid your head on your date’s shoulder as your eyes wandered around the scattered bunch of attendees dancing the night away.

Prom king and queen were to be announced after the current song, you heard from one of the other attendees. “Thanks to you too. I had loads of fun.” the back of his hand gently bumps against yours. You caught the signal, placing your hand on top of his palm. He closes in on your hand, and opens it again, then closes, and opens again, “Look, it’s an alligator.” he giggles right into your ear, continuing the closing and opening motion as he brings your entwined hands to your face. 

“Sho!” you breathe out as a laugh follows shortly. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s not what an alligator looks like.”

“Oh, okay then.” he removed his hand from underneath yours, and soon your palms touched each other. You very carefully lift your head from his shoulder, and your eyes land on his face, observing the way his nose scrunched up when he started playing with your hands. “How about this?” he lifts your hands to your face again, showing the little alligator he had created with your joint hands. 

And then your eyes meet. Your smile was so soft, as well as your eyes. He thought he was going to melt into a puddle. He just hoped nothing would ruin this serene view. You’re so delicate and beautiful. The night went exactly like how he planned —for the most part. You two were all smiles and laughs when your sides were pressed against each other or when your hands were connected. But one instance of you separating to get drinks for both you and him, he wasn’t expecting you to come back with tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. It was his instinct to always be there for you, and so he rushed to take you in his arms. It hurt him that you weakly tried to fight off his embrace, but then you broke into a sob and meekly laid your weight onto him. His hand encloses yours as he takes you back to the car. He thought about driving you home, so you can rest and feel better. But he took a turn away from where you lived.

“Where are we going, Sho?” your dainty voice pricked his heart.

“Just, somewhere.” 

He didn't let go of your hand till he took you home, but until then, you both sat by the riverside with juice boxes and convenience store sandwiches. 

“What’s wrong with me? he doesn’t even care about me, or you —at least not anymore.” you munched on the cold sandwich salted with your own tears as you spoke. 

“Well, at least he doesn’t hate us, right? and look, I’m pretty sure if you asked him for help, or a favor or something, he won’t refuse.” Shotaro had his eyes on you only, even if he had asked you to take a breather and watch the river flow. He sighs softly, seeing your gloomy eyes blinked continuously to fight off the tears. “Friends grow apart, it really isn’t his fault he found friends he enjoyed being around with more than—”

“More than us. Yeah, I get it.” a bitter laugh escaped your lips, and you gulped as a single tear trickled down to the side of your face. 

Shotaro was quick to not let it run down to your neck, wiping it off with a gentle touch to your face. You took a hold of his wrist, calmy removing his hand from your face and moving it to let it settle on his lap, but before you could let go of him, he brought your hand back in his with one swift motion. Your eyes grew wider than before, blinking a few more times as you held eye contact. 

“Can I ask for a favor?” you blinked one more time at his question. 

“Yes Sho.”

“I know you like Eunseok —still, and I know you don’t have it in you to just forget him, especially when we used to be the best of friends.” 

You took a stuttered breath, eyeing Shotaro’s fingers as he drew shapes on your hand. 

“But please, forget him.” and another stuttered breath. “It doesn’t have to be now —what I’m trying to say is, if he managed to stop looking out for you, I won’t. No matter what happens.” your eyes soften, keeping it locked with his. “Even if you say no to my favor.”

You raised your brows, visibly confused. “Isn’t the favor to forget about him?”

You felt his grip on your hand tighten, and you could see the movement in his throat as he gulped. 

“Y/n, can I court you?”

♪ ♪ ♪

[Earlier that night…]

“And now, for prom king…”

It was undoubtedly,

“Song Eunseok!”

Great. Just great. Eunseok badly wanted to just drown in the crowds of people, but instead he allowed himself to be pushed onstage by his friends. And there he stood, next to the prom queen —thankfully, it was Yuna, and not just some other girl. The girl seemed to be ecstatic, giving Eunseok a high-five. Still, after being crowned and a brief photoshoot session, he hurried back to his date who wore rosey cheeks and a shy smile. 

“Hi prom king.” She greets him as he gets closer.

Once he was right in front of her, she wrapped her arms around her neck. He wasn’t surprised, not until she got on her tiptoes to place her lips on his. Just for a short while. 

“I like you, Eunseok.” he blinked once, biting onto his bottom lip.

He couldn’t quite figure out what it was, but suddenly his head was brought up —just above Gaeul’s head— where from a distance, he spotted you. Looking so sweet, so flawless in that yellow shirt dress. He loved how you just walked around with that smile he’d always daydream about. In those five seconds of him marveling in the sight of you, he never realized you were looking right at him, then at the shorter girl in front of him. And with a blink of an eye, you were gone. 

“Eunseok?” he cleared his throat, finally looking back at Gaeul. 

He ponders for a while, and he looks up again. Then he meets another pair of eyes. It belonged to the arms that held you that night as you sobbed. 

“I like you too.”

It was all too late, wasn’t it? There was no way Shotaro hadn’t already planned to ask you out after tonight. Right?

[Two weeks later…]

“How’s it with Gaeul?” Eunseok shook his head at his friend’s query, almost laughing at the tone of his question. 

“We’re fine, Chenle.” he replies with a slight sigh, which only drove his friend to question him more. 

“Yeah, yeah. But, are you really over… you know.” Chenle brought his eyes to the side.

Eunseok knew better than to look at where his friend’s eyes laid on, instead he’d just answer him, “I’m not. But it wouldn’t hurt to try. Besides, doesn’t she look happier?” 

“She does.” he almost broke into a pit of laughter with how fast Chenle responded to his words. 

“She really does.” Eunseok would repeat to himself, only very subtly looking over at your direction.

So close, yet so far. And now, completely out of reach. He watched from the other end of the hallway as you unload your locker, and right next to you was Shotaro who held everything you took out of it, filling his hands. After closing your locker, you’d take half of what he held. Then you laughed. To this day Eunseok was still curious. Did your laugh sound any different after eight years?

“Bro, don’t you think you’ve been looking for too long?” 

Eunseok finally parts his eyes from your sight, looking back at his friend with the smile he always wore around school, the one that no one could ever really tell whether it’s superficial or genuine.  

“What do you mean? It’s only been eight minutes.”

And eight years. 

♪ ♪ ♪

Highschool went by like a fly, so irritating that it lingered for a while. But you were happy that even though you’ve taken a dozen bites, you were still able to be the luckiest of the lucky. Especially with him by your side. Maybe it was too early to speak on things, but you are in your second year of college now, and he’s never stopped looking out for you. So you did the same for him. 

“Hey Sho?” you spoke into your phone after the ringing stopped. 

“Hi Y/n! sorry I can’t join you for lunch, but for dinner we’ll definitely—” he was cut off by your soft chuckle, finding himself freezing up for a second.

“I know Sho, you told me last night. So that’s why—” you took the steps up to his department’s building, stopping by the glass doors. “I’m here to drop off your lunch.”

“Lunch? Wait, I’m running down right now!”

“Entrance two.”

“Entrance two, got it —what did you get?”

“I cooked!”

“You cooked? holy shit, okay.”

You purse your lips as you suppress your laughter, and within under a minute, you see him running from the inside towards the transparent doors. He rushed out of the doors, greeting you with a hug. You were both giggling against each other. 

“Sho!” you almost dropped the lunch bag when he spun you once. 

His eyes smiled at you —like always— once he’s let go of you. You wore a wide smile, biting your lip as you extended your arm to give him the lunch bag. “This is way better than take out.”

You chortle and shake your head. “How would you know? you haven’t even tasted it yet!”

“I’ve tasted your ramen!”

“Instant ramen doesn’t count!” 

You wished you could just bask in each other’s little banters and laughs, but eventually he had to go back to finish what he was working on. 

“Natty will join us for dinner, she and Eric had another fight.” you tell him as you fixed his collar a bit. 

“Again? What's going on with Eric?” you shrugged at him, finally smoothing out his shirt. 

“Nobody knows.”

You understood why people fought, that sometimes, even the smallest things on the surface could indeed be plunged deeper than the depths of the oceans. Now all you could hope is for the couple to reconcile. You knew them both well enough by now to tell that both of them mean well at the end of the day and in some way are just trying to protect each other. 

That’s why at dinner, you were all eyes and ears for Natty as she went on with the details of how everything went down, and you held her hand seeing that it was difficult for her to let it all out. By the end of the day, she’d thank you and Shotaro, and the two of you would be left in the confines of your apartment complex. The talk lasted for longer than what you’d expect —not that you mind— and when you looked out the window, the sky was black and blank. The street lamps were all lit, coloring the streets amidst the darkness. You breathe in once, turning around, only to be met with Shotaro who was getting ready to go home. From what you can recall, he wasn’t gonna be busy for a while. 

“Sho?” his head snaps up from his shoelaces that he was only getting started to tie back up. He hummed you a reply, smiling so dearly and letting his eyebrows rise a tad. “Can I ask you a favor?”

He was a bit taken aback at your question, but he could never say no. “Yeah, of course! "What is it, pretty?”

That feeling you felt back at that old boutique was coming back to you, and in its fullest form. No longer something you would ward off and ignore, but something you wanted to accept and embrace. You thought maybe you were somewhat a bit standoffish, not being able to see through your best friend’s compliments and cute little nicknames —not to mention everything he’s done for you. You thought it was kind of funny. Then, it only took you eight seconds to spot Eunseok within a crowd, but it took you eight years to realize that your bestest friend of all saw you more than a best friend. Funny how you’ve kept Eunseok name at the top of your ‘funniest people I know’ list when no one had ever made you laugh as much as Shotaro did. You made a mental note to yourself to edit that later on, but for now,

“Stay for tonight. It’s quite late.” you glanced over to your wall clock. “A quarter till twelve.”

His eyes shifted around for a while, like he was looking for his answer around the space of your home. “If it’s fine with you, I would —but really, I can go home just fine. I can call you while I walk home.”

You chuckled, taking in his wide open eyes and slightly parted lips. You subtly chew on your bottom lip for a second before telling him, “I want you to stay, Sho.” 

He was a frozen stick of butter by the time those words left your mouth. And he’d let himself melt when you came close to remove his scarf off of him. He removes his shoes, then his coat. And for a while you both stood in front of your door, just staring at each other before laughing at each other's faces —with no particular reason. He takes both of your hands, keeping them warm with his own. 

“Now, about the favor…” your eyes shy away from him as he tilts his head.

He fishes for your eyes, asking, “Wasn’t this the favor?” a soft giggle escapes his mouth just as he finishes speaking. 

You can’t help but giggle too. This time you look him right in the eyes. “Sho, we’ve been best friends for fourteen years.” he gulped at your words, feeling a little nervous with the way you spoke. “And you’ve been courting me for two years.”

“And a half.” he sheepishly adds. 

You breathe out a laugh, “And a half.” you mumble as you intertwine your fingers with his. “I think we should stop being best friends.”

You can’t help but laugh at the way his face contorts at what you said. “Wait, what?” “Wait, what I’m trying to say is…” you both utter at the same time, still being mindful of your volume —you had neighbors after all. 

“Can I be your girlfriend already?” 

You were smothered with a hug, tiny pecks and his sweet giggles. The next thing you know, you were laying on your bed, all cuddled up against each other. He caresses your hair, something he’s always wanted to do. 

“You know we can be together and be best friends at the same time, right?” he whispered to your ear, holding you closer to him. 

You only hummed a reply to him, feeling too tired to open your eyes or speak up. You’d hear one last giggle and feel strands of your hair being moved out from your face before you drifted to sleep. 

♪ ♪ ♪

[Eight months later…]

It was a busy day. You were lined up to seize an opportunity of a lifetime, and you haven’t even graduated college. You were hopeful that they might consider your talents. A wise man by the name of Shotaro once said, “Fashion design is your thing, you can do it! I bet twenty.” you really hope you’d lose that twenty bucks. 

“Y/n?” you were spooked for a second, it’s a familiar voice. “Hi!” and a very familiar face.

“Gaeul?” your eyes dilated at the sight of her. 

She’s just as pretty as the last time you saw her. “Long time no see!” she opened her arms, inviting you in for a small hug, which you accepted gleefully. “How have you been?”

That single question brought you to lunch with her, and of course you had to bring Shotaro along. 

“I’ve always thought you two looked cute together, I’m glad to see the both of you happy.” she gives both of you a soft smile. 

“Thanks, well, how about you? still with Eunseok?” you quietly gasp, stilling yourself in your seat but still knitting your brows at your boyfriend. 

You felt that neither of you were really in the place to ask about her love life. “No, it’s okay!” Gaeul’s assurance helped calm your nerves. “I’m single.”

The two of you just nod, and you found that it was best to not pay much mind to it anymore. You engaged in constant conversation throughout your whole time eating, it was all very wholesome, and you were happy that Gaeul was making steps to achieving her dreams just like you were. The talk about relationships seemed to have sinked, well, not until Shotaro had to excuse himself in the bathroom.

“We were never together —at least it didn’t feel like it.” Gaeul’s utterance caught you off guard. You fell silent all of a sudden, and she noticed. “It never felt real. I cut ties with him after three weeks. And then he told me that—” she flicked her tongue over her top lip for a short while, “He liked you.” 

You took a second to take a sip of water, gulping like you were drinking thick sand.  

Despite parting with smiley farewells, her words dropped a heavy load on you. You carried it till you got back to your apartment and got settled on your bed. It was so heavy that you dropped it all on him, at a seemingly random moment. 

“She said he had a picture of me from our 8th grade yearbook in his pocket.” 

What you had shared with Shotaro struck him like livid thunder. He didn’t expect that Eunseok’s feelings for you would persist. He just wondered if it’s still there. But he could only hope for the best. Even after the whole conflict of two best friends liking the same girl —who also happened to be their best friend too— Shotaro still cared for Eunseok, even if he seemed entirely indifferent to him.

But it didn’t have to matter anymore. You chose him. He’s the one in your home, on your bed, always by your side, never to leave you.

♪ ♪ ♪

[Eight years later…]

What was once a small, dull colored room with faulty curtains and ugly flooring became a shared bedroom, in your shared house with the love of your life. Where the sunshine seeps at dawn, and the moon peeks at your dreaming bodies at night. It felt wonderful. Love felt so wonderful. Shortly after moving in together, you adopted a dog. You didn’t get that opportunity with that one clothing line back then, but now, you owned a line of your own. Your life couldn’t be anymore complete. 

Even if it wasn’t perfect. The flaws only proved your happiness to be real. After a night of too much alcohol at your highschool reunion, Shotaro would tell you exactly why he stopped talking to Eunseok. He cried about it all, saying that he knew all along that you two liked each other. But you were all over it now, and it was Shotaro who’s been by your side. Not everyone was able to attend that reunion —because apparently they were too successful to be there.

Yuna, you knew she was a friend of Eunseok. She approached the two of you at your table, greeting the both of you with a warm smile. “My boyfriend’s having a stand-up show this saturday, I was hoping the two of you could come. In fact, he wanted me to invite you guys.” then you were given two tickets for the venue. 

There weren’t any other details, the ticket was white, with not much but the title of the show. 

The next morning, you’d discuss it with Shotaro on the dinner table. You were sitting next to each other, his arm wrapped around your waist and his head resting on top of yours. “The time is pretty tricky, I have work scheduled at that time.” he plants a kiss on your temple before continuing to speak, “You should definitely go though! I’ll pick you up after, then —remember that dog cafe I told you about? we have to visit it after.” 

You giggled, looking up at him. He couldn’t resist by then, and would lower himself a bit to kiss you. And it wasn't a short one, more like a twenty-minute film. Nonetheless, it was beautiful, and you’ve never felt so loved. 

That Saturday, you went to the venue alone, but not without having the sweetest breakfast of your life with your lover. Pancakes with chocolate syrup, whipped cream and a few berries, and of course, a cup of coffee before proceeding to your own schedules for the day. 

You took the bus on the way there since Shotaro had to leave earlier. The show was a little later in the afternoon. 

When you got there, you looked for any familiar faces, but it was only when you got seated that Yuna came and sat down next to you. You two greet each other with inviting smiles, and a few minutes before the show starts, you’d converse and catch up a bit, after all, it’s been eight years.

“Gentlemen.” a voice echoed throughout the room. 

When you looked up at the stadium, “Gentlemen, may I have your attention —and ladies, I know I already got you.” 

What a surprise. And it was a pleasant one at that. He fits this line of profession. He seemed to enjoy being up there, talking and joking about whatever. It was just like meeting him all over again. He’s just being himself up there. Your best friend from childhood, that sadly didn’t even make it till middle school. Now, you were finally able to laugh at his jests, sometimes stopping for a while to process what he was saying. Still, the atmosphere was light and fun. The audience was truly alive, and so were you. 

At one point, he started talking about his girlfriend. Not quite hard for you to figure out since you remember Yuna mentioning at your reunion party that you were being invited to this show by her boyfriend, Song Eunseok.

“So, I finally decided to do something about it. I bought one of those electric blankets. Problem solved, right? Wrong. Now, our bed is divided like the Korean Demilitarized Zone. She’s over there toasty warm, and I’m on my side sweating like a marathon runner in a sauna. But you know what? I wouldn't trade her for anything. Because at the end of the day, it just gives me another reason to hold her close and keep her warm. And that, my friends, is how you win brownie points with your girlfriend.”

You can’t help but share a laugh with Yuna, letting her hold on to your shoulder as she titters. 

Eunseok saw you, how could he not when you were sitting next to his girlfriend. He was only a bit curious about Shotaro’s absence.

You’d explain it to him at the end of the show, “Sho’s got work, but he’s coming to pick me up.” you both stood just outside the venue, at the side of the building with a little less people going around.

“Sho? What happened to Taro?” Eunseok raised a single brow, and you’d chuckle. 

“Because you used to call him Taro.” you reply with a slight smile.

“Right.” he nods, his pace decreasing gradually as he tries to reach for something at the back of his tongue, “I’m just curious, did you actually hate me back then? like, when I moved and stuff.”

You chuckle a little louder, leaving him puzzled. “I liked you. I just avoided you. I just thought you didn’t care anymore.” you answer so simply, shrugging towards the end of your sentence.

“I thought you hated me, that’s why I wasn’t talking to you.” you took a sharp breath through your nose when he finished speaking. 

Then suddenly you both snort at the whole thing.

“It’s funny.”

“It really is.”

As your laughter died down, he’d clear his throat to ask you, “So, are you and Taro married?” you could see his eyes locked on the ring on your finger. 

“Engaged.” you nod, and he imitates your action. 

“Wow. I should propose to Yuna right now.” your eyes widened an inch, he could be joking, but you wouldn’t be surprised if he actually did. Besides, you could tell how much he loved his girlfriend just by that one ment he did earlier at the show.

“So suddenly?”

“Yeah, so then we’d be even!” 

It reminded you of a time in your childhood where you’d share your food with him because he forgot his lunchbox. You usually gave him more food, just cause you could, but then he’d give some back to you and he’d say, “Now we’re even.” it pulled on your heartstrings, but now you kinda wish you gave him just a piece or two of your animal crackers —and maybe two sips of your apple juice when the weather’s nice. 

“I’m afraid I'd scare her off and she’d say no.” 

“Really?” —you truly were a bit shocked that he was worried about being rejected. “Well, I believe she’ll say yes.”

“Really?” he imitates you again —the tone of your voice, “What makes you think that?”

You gave yourself a few seconds to think about what you were gonna answer to him. Suddenly you remember what you’ve written in your notes app. The funniest people I know. 1. Osaki Shotaro, 2. My dad, 3. Natty… he was off the list, but now, maybe it was for good reason. He was always known for being funny, now he has built a career out of it. Maybe, he was the greatest comedian of all. 

“You might just be the greatest comedian I know.” 

He laughs at your declaration of his greatness with his hands in his pocket, “I’m probably the only comedian you know.” —and more laughter.

He appreciated that you thought he was the greatest comedian. But as he looked back on the past, a past that was once painful, full of regret and missed opportunities, where you missed each other and realized only later in life. That period of your life would still prove to be pivotal. Right person, wrong time? maybe, but what else could it be other than silly memories when you find yourselves laughing about it. You’ve already settled for a love that you both deserve, a love that mended your hearts. It was all for the better, no matter how downcast all of it may seem. Worth a laugh, and a good story. 

The story started with oblivion, and a bouquet of flowers you never received, but it ends with two pairs of engagement rings, and two pairs of smiling hearts. That’s four people —in case you missed it. 

God did a great job writing their fate. And to Eunseok, God is the greatest comedian of all.

End.

cheers to a hundred peeps!! :3

[johnwickb1tsch]

you’re the worst thing (i’m addicted to)

a john wick x Helen'sSister!Reader fic You are Helen's baby sister. When you meet John Wick at Helen's graveside, he invites you to dinner to celebrate her birthday. Set a few years after the first movie, 2-4 never happened. Use of y/n. Warnings: canon typical violence. Future reference to threat of noncon, (not John! because he's our assassin sweetiepie). Mourning. Smut. Grey areas. Questionable decisions. Sweetheart!John, BAMF!John Depressed!John - If you can handle the movie you should be fine here...

Part 1.

“Hey, Hels.”

There is no answer, only the warbling of a bird in a distant tree. The day is bright and blue, spring has come again in all her glory. It doesn’t seem right, somehow, that the sun should still shine, and the birds should still sing.

Because she is gone.

It’s been two years, but you still haven’t really wrapped your head around it.

You still have your last text message thread with her in your phone. It’s as though you could just punch a few buttons and still talk to her. Always, she would answer you, no matter what she was doing. Sometimes you want to type in I miss you and hit send, just to see what might happen.

But then, maybe it is appropriate, that today should be such a beautiful day. On this day, forty-two years ago, your sister was born. Roughly ten years later, you followed. As a direct result, your mother died of complications in childbirth.

Your father still blamed you, but Helen never did.

In a way, Helen was your mother, more than the woman who bore you.

It makes it all hurt so much more.

“Happy birthday, by the way.”

You look down at the stone, this massive granite behemoth. You find it rather ugly, to be honest, but it will certainly stand the test of time, nuclear war notwithstanding. Loving Wife, reads the epitaph below.

You know it was true.

You know that perhaps John Wick is the only person Helen loved more than you. But the inscription still seems too brief. Short changing her, somehow. 

But then, John paid for the stone, so you suppose he got to pick what it said. 

You were ensuring her memory lived on in other ways. 

“I finally did as you asked,” you tell her. “I’ve used the photos you left me in a painting. We're going to be in a show together. I wish you were here to see it.”

There is a mean part of you that suspects your submission was only accepted because it contained work from the late, great, photographer Helen Morgan-Wick, but you shove that down into the seething pit with all the rest of your fears and doubts. You didn't use them for the attention. You did it to feel close to her, and because she asked you to. One final art project, the note had said. She knew you too well, knew that the only thing that kept you from toeing the line of the abyss was a good artistic obsession.

You knew she’d planned to leave a project for John too. A puppy, she’d said. You’d shared a laugh over it, through tears, the last time you’d been together. You never found out how that had gone. John hadn’t attended a family gathering since Helen passed.

Too painful.

You didn’t blame him one bit. 

“I miss you, Hels. I feel so lost without you.”

“Amen.”

The sound of another voice behind you nearly makes you jump out of your skin. You turn to find him, in one of his signature tailored black suits, looking unfairly scrumptious despite the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn't made a sound in his approach. He never did. The man moved like a ghost and looked like a dark dream. You'd always found him insanely attractive.

You'd never done anything about that, of course. But goddamn, you had eyes.

“Hi, John.”

“Hello, y/n.”

You’ve never run into him at the gravesite before, though you have seen the wilted offerings of daisies left by the stone, and you always had assumed they’d come from him. You haven’t seen him since Helen’s funeral. He hasn’t changed much, really, though there is a sharpness to his aspect you’d never noticed when Helen was alive. An edge to his gaze; how can eyes so dark convey so much? Despite yourself, it sends a little thrill down your spine that you absolutely know you should not revel in.  

Maybe you haven’t seen him in person after Helen passed, but you’ve gazed at him plenty through Helen’s lens. There had been so many photographs of him in the collection of prints she’d left you. Nothing risqué, but the way he’d looked at her even through the camera had been nothing less than intimate.

There were times, late at night in your studio, when you’d pretended he’d been looking at you that way.

“How…have you been?” 

He offers a grim shadow of a smile and a shake of his head that you understand all too well. 

“Nice to be with someone you don't have to pretend with.”

“Yeah.”

You both stare down at the grave, meditating on your loss of this woman who touched you both so completely.

“Do you think she can hear us?” you ask, unable to lift your voice above a whisper.

There is a long pause from her widower, the man she left behind.

“Not really.” He lifts his face to the sun, eyes closed, as though maybe he can feel something of her presence. “But you should talk to her anyway. I might be wrong.”

You smile at that.

“Do you ever talk to her?”

“All the time,” he admits with a huff of self-deprecating laughter. “But then, I might just be losing my mind.”

“Ah well. That makes two of us then.”

You gently lay down the bouquet of Gerber daisies you'd brought for her. Helen’s favorite. If you ever have a garden, you will plant some for her. As it is, you have to buy them from the store. You remember the patch of daisies she’d cultivated in the garden of your childhood home. Their cheerful faces and soft petals. They had been your mother’s favorite too. When you were a girl Helen would sing to you and braid them in your thick hair. You couldn’t know at the time, how precious those perfect days had been.

The wave of sorrow hits you like a freight train, the weight of your loss a crushing force. You start to cry, hiding your face in your hands; you would prefer to do this alone, but you cannot stop it.

You feel an arm about your shoulders. It surprises you—John was never a touchy-feely man, never one for hugs, always preferring a wave or a handshake. Only for Helen, did he ever display any sort of affection. They had always been touching, holding hands or sitting hip to hip on the couch, his strong arm slung protectively around her shoulders. You didn’t want to say you’d been envious of that, but…perhaps you’d wondered, what it might be like, to be so cherished.

When he pulls you against him you only manage some token resistance. “I’ll mess up your suit.” You sound pitiful, even to you.

“I have an excellent dry cleaner.”

His dry wit had always amused you. This time, it breaks you, and you give in. He is solid as an oak, and as it turns out, his chest is an excellent place to cry on. Under the shelter of his chin you wring yourself dry, until it feels like you have nothing left inside you. His large hand rests lightly upon the back of your head, shielding you from the world. He is warm, and his cologne is subtle but heavenly. Sandalwood, maybe, and something spiced. Cardamom, perhaps. A hint of pepper.

You don’t particularly want to move, even though you absolutely should. Yet his hold on you has not loosened, and you tell yourself that maybe John Wick needed a hug just as badly as you did.

“People keep telling me that it gets easier, and I just want to punch them in the face,” you sniffle.

A huff of laughter escapes him. You feel it stir your hair on the top of your head. “Yeah. I get that.”

Finally you pull back, though not as far as you should. You’ve never actually been this close to him before, and you look at each other from a foot away. Sometimes proximity can shatter the illusion of someone’s attractiveness—but not this man. The impossible angle of his cheekbones, the soft scruff of his beard…is it just you, or does the edge in his gaze soften a little, when he looks at you? It makes your legs a little weak, and you kind of hate yourself for it.

It has nothing to do with you, stupid, you tell yourself. Where you and Helen weren’t exactly twins, you did resemble each other strongly. In profile, you’d been mistaken for her in public plenty of times before. If anything, it was probably unnerving for this poor man who missed his wife so much, to hold you, a sorry facsimile, in his arms. Out of pity, most likely.  

Helen had been the good sister. The upstanding one, the kind one. You? You can be such a twisted little thing.

“Sorry,” you sigh, noticing the smudge of makeup on his lapel.

He doesn’t even glance down, that intense gaze still fixed upon you. “Don’t be.”

Unbidden heat blooms from your cheeks to your toes, finding yourself the subject of that gaze. You’ve got to go, before you really embarrass yourself.

“I'll leave you alone. It was nice to see you, John.”

You turn to go, hugging yourself against the early spring chill. Why did you have to feel so bereft, without his arms around you? You take a few steps before he calls after you, “Y/n?”

You freeze in your tracks, a thrill jetting down your spine. “Yeah?” you dare, turning to half look over your shoulder.

“I…was thinking about going to Helen’s favorite restaurant tonight. Would you like to join me?”

Your heart beats double time in your chest, as you slowly turn to face him. You should say no. There’s a thousand reasons you should say no. This was your sister’s husband. It doesn’t matter that he’s the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, and that he’s been kind to you, and that he’s looking at you like he might drown if you say no.

“I would like that,” you answer, and your heartbeat thundering in your ears sounds like the hammering of nails into your own coffin.

Part 2

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s5 episode 20 thoughts

last episode of the season!!!

things have seemed… tense lately between my best friends mulder and scully. i hope they can work it out. 

anyway, it says here that there is a boy with psychic powers… another child case. they deal with these so often!!!

but maybe he can unlock the secrets of the x files?? how?? i guess i will have to tune in!

post-episode thoughts: scully, i want to hug you. CSM, count your days. destroying information is a crime in my realm, and it will be punished with banishment. mulder, you need to learn how to talk about your feelings. i am no longer suggesting this politely. it must be done. now. skinner, you are the star on top of my metaphorical christmas tree. spender, my feelings towards you are pretty neutral.

we begin in vancouver, where a chess tournament is going on between a grown man and a child. there is a very large crowd and a guy who seems to be up to no good in the ceiling. 

the kid hears voices in his head as this sniper loads up a bullet… can he figure out what is about to happen?? but the voices just sound like weird noises!!!

noooo, don’t kill this little boy!!! he wins just in time, stands up, and the bullet hits the other guy!!! 

so he knew it was going to happen and won just in time to stand up…

leave this little boy alone!! don’t piss me off!!!

OHHH shortened intro AND new words on the screen today… “THE END” <- now there is a movie coming up shortly so i KNOW this is a lie!!!

i am preparing myself for some sort of cliffhanger….

ohohoho kryek is here today, according to the “guest starting” list…. getting ready for some rat-like activities

CSM is buttoning up his shirt as some people arrive upon his frosty property. they have guns… and his alarms are going off… 

BLAM! he shoots one man dead right then and there!! you really cannot underestimate this guy!!! unless we’re talking about his abilities to write fiction!!!

so he’s running barefoot into the snow??? yowch! bloody feet!

the guy in the mask catches him! OH SHIT! IT’S KRYCEK!! “go on! take your shot, alex” <- HOT DAMN! not the first name usage!

he says he was sent to being CSM back…….. by whomst?

there is a sticky note on mulder’s poster. i can’t tell what it says!

OH mulder has a picture of him and scully pinned to his board🥹that's fine that's super fine and i'm not gonna cry!

it’s skinner poking around their office!!! what is he doing down here??

HE WANTS TO KNOW MULDER’S LONG TERM PLANS?! and mulder says they’re right in his hands, referring to the x files

skinner loves his most special and difficult agents. it's true!

“what do you hope to find? i mean, in the end” (mulder looks at skinner suspiciously) “whatever i hope to find is in here. and maybe i’ll know when i find it”

now what is going on…..? something is afoot. somehow i doubt skinner just got randomly curious and started reading through the x files for the funsies.

skinner has a case for him: the assassination of a russian chess player. and agent spender was put in charge of the case by someone from OUTSIDE the bureau!! oh, that must be what has skinner so freaked out. who tf is just putting people in charge of cases?

(i mean, we, the audience, know the answer to this. but if i were skinner, i would be deeply uncomfy at the thought)

“he was very specific that you be excluded” (mulder smiles) lmaoooo

skinner's messy for that!!! and i giggled!!!

BAHAHA scully is in the room listening to spender debrief, and when mulder walks in, spender looks SO mad!! “please continue”, mulder says, after spender gets so caught off guard by seeing him that he literally cannot finish his sentence

you can try to separate mulder and scully, but the universe will find a way to reunite them. like a bonded pair of kitties. 

mulder asks him to rewind the tape and spender says basically no LMAOOO

“let me get through this, if you have any questions, we can talk later” “i-i don’t have any questions, no, i just think you’re wrong” <- LMAOOOOOO i’m at once giggling and cringing in second hand embarrassment 

mulder hates this dude, i'm crying!!!!

scully asks wtf mulder is doing, and he explains he thinks the killer was aiming for the boy!! spender reluctantly does rewind the tape, and mulder points out that the kid pushes back right before the bullet is fired. 

who is this random lady agreeing with mulder that the kid could sense the bullet coming…? he looks utterly shocked to hear her say this!!

and skinner says rewind it again so we can all see for ourselves LMAO everyone hates this spender mfer

(listen. sorry to this man, but i think it would also piss me off if some random guy got put in charge of an investigation because outside forces decreed it to be so)

sure enough, when spender rewinds the tape, the kid looks right at the camera!!! mulder turns to this random woman again in amazement 

meanwhile, krycek is bringing CSM back to the syndicate on a random side street. OH SHIT!! CSM calls them out right then and there for trying to kill him LMAOOO

that had to be awkward as hell! i'm giggling

CSM moves on from that pretty fast. he seems like the type to hold grudges, so perhaps this is part of his secret plot for revenge.

the well-groomed man (and i know that isn’t his name, but i can’t remember what it actually is, and when i tried to google it last time i got spoilers so: to me, he is WGM) says: the boy is a problem to us!! and i say: leave him alone!! let him play chess!!

CSM offers to kill the kid and well-groomed man says “dear god”... umm, well y’all were just trying to do that, so why now are we getting squeamish...!!!

this other dude is called “first elder” by the subtitles! good to know

CSM says he’ll do it… and walks off.

so this lady that was sticking up for mulder is named agent fowley, and scully is making polite small talk as mulder drives them... somewhere. she requested reassignment. hmm…

“1991, that’s about when you started work on the x files”, scully points out. “more or less, yeah”, mulder says. and does not elaborate.

(long lingering eye contact between mulder and fowley)

now… is this woman who i think she is……?

the boy (named gibson) is watching the simpsons. OH SHIT!!! “my name is fox… this is dana and diana”

SHE IS WHO I THOUGHT SHE WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh man. oh man. okay, so i know a tiny bit about this. going bonkers rn.

what i DO know is enough to realize that diana is a controversial topic among the fandom, but i vow to speak my truth. as i always do. and i hope you will treat me with the grace you typically have afforded me.

gibson says he lives in the philippines, that mulder has a dirty mind, and he does NOT want to play any chess. yes, he truly is a psychic.

scully is like wtf is he going on about…. and mulder accuses the boy of being able to read minds

“i know what’s on your mind. i know you’re thinking about one of the girls you brought” (mildly amused scully look) “one of them’s thinking about you”

diana laughs and asks which one… gibson says mulder doesn’t want him to say.

(shakes head) hey! what’s going on?

mulder declares that gibson needs around the clock protection

oh, a canon-typical fight in the hallway between our agents on if this is possible or not… diana is listening in…. “you know what to do, diana”, mulder says before leaving <- hey. i don’t like that. the tone with which he speaks nor the implication of there being some pre-scully lilith-like figure.

“so you two know each other”, scully points out. “it was along time ago” (long lingering scully glance)

OHHHH spender is NOT letting mulder talk to the assassin… “you’re insulting me when you should be taking notes”, he says <- DAMN!!! the ego on this man! he isn't entirely wrong, but there is no humility about him!

he pushes past spender and gets into the cell, where the shooter claims spender hasn’t given him food or water. mulder orders him off to go get some. 

ohhh he’s playing hardball… he tells the dude that he’ll tell spender he fessed up to the kid being psychic… and if he cooperates with him, maybe he can get him into the witness protection program… does mulder hold this kind of influence?

mulder steals the food that was being brought for him. mulder! you're being a dick! on many fronts!

AWWW, scully and gibson are holding hands as she walks him down the hall :( he didn’t like the tests! poor kid! and he says scully’s wondering about “that other girl” and “she’s wondering about you, too” 

hey…. i get the sense we are pitting two bad bitches against each other via this little boy's mind reading. not a narrative choice i am fond of.

now a group of people are testing gibson for psychic abilities by holding up cards only they can see.

diana says she’s seen clairvoyants, but never of this skill level. she says she spent time with mulder is psychiatric hospitals?? scully.exe is not working 

she has to leave because she is weirded tf out…

(i don't blame her, though. i would also be very weirded out if my partner of 5 years had another partner he very evidently has a history with and never bothered to mention until she suddenly materialized. if i were scully, i'd be like hey mulder... remember all those times i tended to your wounds and held your sobbing body and broke the law for you? yeah, that was super cool. i love how we trust each other. anyway, wtf else are you hiding from me?)

((and i'm not saying that is necessarily the RIGHT or RATIONAL thing to feel, but c'mon. you can't look at me and tell me you wouldn't also be equal parts stung and curious))

shooter guy is being handed a note. it’s on a cigarette pack!!! and it says "you’re a dead man"!!! oh brother... not the CSM on the loose! how is he getting into these buildings still?!?!

LMAOOO???? WHAT IS SCULLY DOING WITH FROHIKE?!?!

look at her looking up into his camera system... she is just so PRETTY!!

bro is in his pajamas and has an absurd number of locks on his door. and i'm giggling!

she’s bringing the whole crew scans of gibson’s brain!! “and you want us to what?” “analyze the data. with an eye to the parapsychological” <- OHHH they’re gagged by that... and i am too! scully opening herself up to extreme possibilities?! or simply trying to anticipate and counter mulder's argument in favor of the kid's clairvoyance?

OHHHH.... SHE WANTS TO KNOW WHO TF DIANA IS LMAOOOOO 

i can’t tell if she’s jealous, or nosy, or both. but i can tell you that i love when scully is nosy. 

frohike says she was mulder’s “chickadee” (LMAO, crazy phrasing) out of the academy. she was with him when he discovered the x files. and she has some sort of background in parascience. whatever that means.

NOOOOO scully looks so sad 💔💔💔 MULDER, DON’T HIDE THINGS FROM HER!!! SHE’LL CRY

stop. stop!!!

gibson is watching cartoons while diana watches him. and here comes mulder. OH, she called him fox. don’t like that. i thought he was adamantly anti-being referred to as fox! is that a development from the past 5 years, or does she not care about what he thinks?

“i sense you could have used an ally, though- someone who thinks like you, with some background” HEY. WATCH HOW YOU TALK ABOUT SCULLY!!!

“oh, you mean scully?” now is that defensiveness i see in his eyes? he doesn’t sound like he’s laughing.

“she’s not what i’d call an open mind on the subject” <- well, diana, you don’t even know her!!! and just because you're right doesn't mean you should go around judging her!

he laughs, but it doesn’t feel like he really means it….

(i was trying to psychoanalyze everything in this godforsaken scene and i had NO idea what the vibe actually was LMAOOOO)

“she’s a, uh… she’s a scientist. she just makes me work for everything” <- HEY!!! what happened to her being “rigid, but in a wonderful way”??? defend her honor in her absence!

“yes, but i’m… i’m sure there were times when two like minds on a case would have been advantageous” <- well girl, from what i've heard, it sounds like you left and went to germany!

“i’ve done okay without you” okay. are we setting boundaries now? is this progress?

NO. it does not appear that this is the case. she is grabbing his hand. “hey. i’m on your side” side eye. from me. sounds like she is implying scully is NOT on his side, which i loathe. and please don’t kiss... i don’t want to see all that. 

where is scully going….? OH NO!!! she walked by and saw them holding hands!!

oh my god, she is leaving….. and i don’t blame her!!

the sad music!!!! stop!!!!! look at her sadly getting in her car!!!!! sadly staring at the wheel!!! sadly buckling up!!!! 

she sounds like she’s going to cry as she calls mulder and says she wants to show him something. and she doesn't want to show it to him there.

now why is agent spender rolling up as she heads out?! we have enough problems to deal with at this time that aren’t him!!!

OH SHIT!!! CSM IS TALKING TO HIM!!!! saying he gave him the case!!!!

he’s trying to give him some fatherly advice despite the fact this dude has no idea they are related. “you’re a bright boy” okay… well that is certainly an avuncular thing to say. perhaps uncomfortably so when coming from a guy you literally just met. “know which men to sacrifice and when” <- now that's some standard CSM advice.

OH SHIT!!!!!!! MULDER SEES HIM!! CSM retreats into the shadows. “i was told he was dead”, mulder pants. “well obviously whoever it is, he’s not” spender has literally no idea who tf this guy is………..

(laughing even harder at his response as i edit my notes. spender must think this mulder fellow is the weirdest dude alive)

i’m kinda laughing, because spender has no idea wtf is going on, while mulder’s world just got rocked upside down and inside out. that’s the devil that killed his dad and took his scully and killed scully’s sister!!! he thought the evil was defeated and it is back!!! poor spender is just here to chat with a stranger. he truly doesn't know anything about the situation! it's comical!

scully and mulder and all of spender’s team are in skinner’s office!!! she has the brain test results from gibson… and she is finding the results hard to believe…

something something about him having intense brain activity in the god something or other. maybe he is the next einstein??? well, that would be cool! yeah, get the little boy into nuclear physics!

but mulder thinks that maybe this intense brain activity will allow him to also explain all sorts of unexplained phenomena. 

i guess i can see the correlation between intense brain activity and psychic abilities, but how will it let him explore the jersey devil?

mulder proposes giving the killer immunity to explain wtf is going on, which spender immediately shoots down: “you want to give a murderer a free ride for the secrets to the pyramids?” <- well that is an oversimplification!

ANGRY SCULLY!!! “you mischaracterize what i’ve said” <- GET HIM AGAIN FOR ME!! “this would be quantifiable scientific proof of everything that agent mulder and i have investigated over the past five years”

i don’t really see the correlation from a plot perspective but okay ❤️ yay ❤️

oh diana, i am suspicious of you…. “how do you quantify the spiritual? it can’t be done. you ask for immunity for a killer on that basis, the attorney general’s gonna go off. you’re allowed to investigate the x files as an indulgence. but draw the wrong kind of attention and they’ll close you down”

okay………… rude. but not necessarily wrong. in fact, she seems quite right, at least about the attorney general shutting down the case part. clearly, some levels of spirituality can be quantified if the results show up on brain scans; scully will use science to find a way. scully glances at mulder, who is staring at diana

“put an end to all your work. something i happen to have an interest in myself” WELL NO ONE ASKED???? girl! it isn't your project!!

perhaps i am the one who will need immunity from the attorney general as i bravely ask the question i am thinking: am i bad feminist, or is diana supposed to piss me off?

scully’s watching mulder stare at diana……. skinner says, everyone go take a break. but you may absolutely NOT leave my office, mulder. 

he says that diana is right. if they poke around too much they’ll get shut down- but mulder is willing to risk it!!!!!

“if what agent scully’s found is true- and i have every reason to believe that it is- then the answers i might have spent a lifetime searching for may fall together like a million puzzle pieces” <- OHH!! FAITH IN SCULLY!! FAITH IN SCULLY GIVING HIM THE TRUTH!

“you’d risk the x files?”, asks skinner.

“how soon can you call the attorney general?” 

so, there is your answer.

mulder is always having some sort of power struggle with skinner. hey. can mulder, buddy. can we use a "please" and "thank you" every now and then? your old pal skinner has put up with a LOT of your nonsense!

bro is in his cranky era.

ohhhh, so he goes and tell the shooter that he gave his request for immunity, but the attorney general needs more information before she can make a decision… “i need answers from you” UH OH!! will he have them before CSM breaks in? because we know he is stalking his prey!

he says the kid is a missing link; he’s genetic proof. spender wants to know of what, and this is very convenient, because so do i. so he thinks the kid is part alien….. spender is heckling him for this. but CSM is on the prowl… we don't have time for interpersonal conflict!

(so, maybe he's part alien but distantly? or maybe they made one of the alien hybrids like emily, but this one didn't die? why did emily die, again? because we know there are plenty others of the alien hybrids because they had that whole bit about saving "their mothers" back in... i think it was s3? maybe a bunch of them, like emily, die, but some of them do survive, and gibson is a son of the half alien? so he is a quarter alien? or maybe he is from a different alien race?

everything is a bit foggy when it comes to mytharc, i suppose. i guess it all comes down to the writers wanting to torture my best friend agent scully)

well-groomed man and krycek pull up to heckle CSM, which is an important part of their job description. they’re saying he failed them, but CSM says it’s all part of the plan. take their pieces one by one. 

hey, you’re gonna kill the kid, aren’t you?

at least JFK was a grown man!!!

do you think he bulk ordered the cigarettes from like, the cigarette equivalent of sam’s club, and had them sent to his snowy canadian hideaway? i mean, the number he goes through, it should have raised some red flags for the people trying to find him!

scully is watching the boy watch cartoons. she is pondering. 

“how do you do it?” “i just hear you thinking… like on a radio. and sometimes there are lots of radios, and i want to shut them off and watch some TV” <- you know what, that is entirely understandably.

gibson says that scully doesn’t care what other people think… “except for her. the other one”

is she trying to impress diana…..? has she moved beyond vying for people's approval after the horrors of cancer and emily, or is it manifesting in a new way as she hopes this mysterious figure from mulder's past will approve of her? does she think that if diana likes her, mulder will let her in about his past? does she feel a solidarity despite their differences in belief because of the fact they are both women in a male-dominated field?

the implications... i must explore them.

ah. and in diana comes. 

scully says they’ll talk about that stuff later. queen of knowing the time and place to have a debrief. and he says “they want to kill me” OHHH poor little gibson :( just let him watch cartoons!

scully promises no one will hurt him :( and he says “i know you do" :(

is diana going to kill the kid…..?

(author's note: LMAO!! listen... i thought they were going with the double agent angle for about 2 minutes. in my defense, i'm still shocked from the whole krycek and marita thing, so i'm trying to expect the unexpected. this is not the most wildly incorrect plot point i have guessed!)

the shooter gets another note…  this time it’s an empty cigarette carton, and BAM!!! CSM SHOOTS HIM!!!

well. there goes any possibility of an explanation.

diana fell asleep watching gibson and he’s looking out the window!!! he says there’s a man with a gun!!! and he says he’s aiming at her!!!! and BAM!! she gets shot too!!

hey guys! once again i ask what’s going on.

mulder and scully are pulling in while diana gets taken into an ambulance. and mulder’s grasping her hand while scully just wants to know where tf the kid is!!!!

the shooter was killed!!! skinner shows mulder the cigarette carton!!!!! 

NOOOO!! CSM has the boy and is bringing him to the well-groomed man. gibson called him a liar when he said he won't get hurt.

“you’ve never had the stomach for our business”

“just not for your practices”

“i’m a necessity. the complement to your cowardice” <- omggg……..

the dichotomy between CSM and well-groomed man... were the girls writing old man yaoi back when this aired? because i bet they would if this show dropped now.

(i was about to joke that if we all work really hard now, we can make that ship trend, but how tf can you write romantic fanfiction between two nameless characters? yeesh. that has to be a pain. "the well-groomed man moved in closer towards the cigarette smoking man, inhaling his burnt, acidic scent; he knew he was as bad for him as the cancer coursing through the other man's bloodstream" <- yeah, i didn't enjoy typing that, and it isn't fun to read either)

“your work is done now” SO WHAT ARE THEY GONNA DO TO THE BOY???

“my work is just beginning” nope. do not like that. 

well-groomed man leads gibson into the car driven by krycek, who says he has a nice straight shot at CSM!!! but well-groomed man says not to shoot. you may need him in the future.

krycek is the last man i would trust with a child.

WOAHHHHH mulder is ATTACKING SPENDER saying he will get him PROSECUTED FOR MURDER!!! “you’re wrong, agent mulder, it’s your days that are numbered” <- NOW WHAT DOES *THAT* MEAN??

is he collaborating with daddy to kill mulder or lead him down an incredibly intricate path leading to his peril?!?

NOOOOO, skinner is on the phone with scully in mulder’s apartment 💔 spender is going after mulder and there are talks of reassignment!

his first question when she gets off of the phone is about diana….

NOOO, the justice department wants to close down the x files 💔💔

mulder says this is all part of plan he couldn’t see and walked into

“this time they may have won” NOOOOO💔💔💔💔you have to find some faith!

CSM is in mulder’s office………. looking at the files….. PICKING OUT THE ONE ON SAMANTHA………… WHERE IS HE TAKING IT???

TO SPENDER?!! “who are you?” “i’m your father” <- YOOO, I DIDN’T THINK HE WOULD JUST OUT AND SAY IT??

DID HE LIGHT ALL THE OTHER FILES ON FIRE???

HOLY HELL, HE DID???

mulder is here in his t shirt and scully is here in a lab coat and they find their whole office burnt to a crisp!!!!

she grabs his arms and leans in, putting her head on his chest as he looks around in fury

woah…. woaugh……….

the end.

CSM ruined the work of their whole lives!!!

this is why archivists are so important. because they always keep files saved on at least 3 sources. inshallah the good FBI archivists had them on a bunch of floppy disks. please please please.

(i started to type “on a bunch of flash drives”, but then i realized idk if those were popular, effective, or invented at the time. and a floppy disk really couldn’t hold much. maybe there is a huge cardboard box in one of the back rooms with all of them backed up! i like the ones that were colorful!)

well, now there’s a damn movie i need to watch!!! but first i have to get all of my s5 content sorted out!!!!

i have many questions. i have a terrible feeling that poor boy is gonna end up another sacrificial lamb. and i know that CSM saved the file on samantha to keep the fire burning beneath mulder, just enough so he meets his dastardly plans. damn. this guy really is an evil genius. which does not translate to literary talent.

what is spender going to do? is he going to believe that CSM is his father? will he follow him in dastardly deeds, or will he reject them? i mean, he sure isn't a believer in aliens like mulder is, so learning his father is basically a diplomat to the alien people isn't going to go over well. or is he going to stand up to daddy and save the day, probably nobly sacrificing himself in the process?

what about scully? i just KNOW she blames herself for gibson getting kidnapped because she promised him he would be safe, and she's all torn up about mulder hiding things from her!!! poor scully!

and mulder, what is he going to do about the reappearance of diana and then her sudden death or near-death? will he stop being so cranky anytime soon? it doesn't seem likely, but a girl can hope.

and i wanna know what is going through skinner's mind, too. because he really is like an uncle to me. i remember my earlier posts about not trusting him, and i think that narrative was intentionally cultivated by the writers, but now i'm thinking, man. that's my ride or die. skinner, i should have never doubted you. not only that, i love your little house buddha and desk globes and i wish i could slap mulder across the face for the way he acts towards you!

well, i have a lot of work to do with the s5 wrapups before i can dive into this film, and so work i must. and perhaps i will save the film for next weekend when i can focus appropriate attention.

i also expect that the movie writeup will be VERY LONG. and my writeups are already SO LONG. i tossed around the idea of splitting it up into parts, but i think it will be better to just do it all in one go. unless there is a very clear midpoint spot where i can divide the post in two, which i doubt???

will diana grow on me? will the movie be enjoyable? will scully get a damn break? will CSM and WGM kiss? will krycek continue to be a problematic bisexual?

hmm. well, stay tuned, and share all of your thoughts!

[criticalpraisefilm]

I Saw the TV Glow - and I wept. Here's why.

Coming out is scary. There's a million reasons why but the one I want to talk about is the self doubt.

What if I'm wrong? What if it's not true? What if I go through the frightening, worrying steps I have to take to live my most authentic life and it just gets worse?

I Saw the TV Glow asks another question: what if you're right? And what if that fear didn't go away? And what if it was worth it anyway?

(for the sake of this review, I will be referring to the main characters as Owen and Maddy, and using he/him and she/her pronouns respectively, as that is how they are presented in the movie, no matter the subtext. Or just straight text)

Owen (Justice Smith) is a lonely, shy, awkward boy living in the suburbs to an ill mother and an unwelcoming father. He connects with Maddy (Brigette Lundy-Paine), a lonely, shy, awkward girl living with an uncaring mother and an abusive father, over The Pink Opaque, a TV show about two psychic girls, Isabel (Helena Howard) and Tara (Lindsey Jordan) fighting evil. As they grow up and their lives drift apart and together again, the lines between reality and The Pink Opaque start to blur, and Owen and Maddy realise they may have more in common with Isabel and Tara than they realised.

I first watched this movie in a group on a TV connected to a laptop with a bunch of other trans people. The small screen felt appropriate, with the early 2000s VHS aesthetic and imagery, somehow watching something modern and slightly more retro at the same time, like we really were streaming The Pink Opaque, but the real one, not the terrible version Owen discovers later. Describing things from my own childhood as retro feels a bit strange, but life moves on, whether you really live it or not. Maybe we should have watched it on a CRT TV for the full effect.

Regardless, after it was done, there was discussion, but mostly there was silence as we processed what we'd watched and dried our tears. I think I cried more than anyone else. That's not a comment about how it connected with me more than anyone else. I just cry a lot at movies now. Thank you, estrogen.

The second time I watched it it was in a cinema. The movie got a very limited cinema run in my home country and there was only one day to go and see it. I didn't think I could emotionally handle watching it alone, so I invited a few friends. In the end, only one friend was able to come see it with me. That friend is not transgender.

After the movie I stood outside smoking a cigarette and bouncing up and down talking about all the details I had missed the first time, the aspect ratio changes, some of the callbacks that were more obvious second time around, but mostly I ranted about things I had already experienced the first time I saw the movie because it still sat with me.

Somewhat ironically, and maybe slightly perversely, I described how I felt by using a moment from a Marvel movie. I talked to my friend about Maddy and Owen speaking about years moving like seconds, your life going by without you even noticing, like scenes are being skipped. And then you're older, and then you're a year older, and another year, and you barely notice because it's like you're watching it play out on a screen. You can't feel anything because you feel hollow, like someone has dug out your insides and it's all just a dream you can't wake up from. Despite the hollowness and the numbness, you can't breathe.

And I told my friend it was like that moment in Thor: Ragnarok where the Hulk smashes Thor against the ground in a callback to when Hulk did that to Loki in The Avengers. Loki in the crowds stands up and points and shouts "that's how that feels!". Because yes. That's how that feels.

That's how it feels to watch your life go by because you somehow can't bring yourself to care. As if the life isn't yours. As if there's another life you should be living, but it's not there. Or, rather, it is there, but saying it out loud, admitting it to yourself sounds silly. Crazy, even. There's another life I should be living? My memories of being myself are all mixed up with my memories of being somebody else? That's ridiculous. I am myself. I have a life.

I'm not somebody else. I'm not a character I grew up connecting to and relating to. There is no other life waiting for me. I'm myself. I'm not someone else. I'm not a girl.

It doesn't matter that my life doesn't feel my own. It doesn't matter that I wish I was someone else. It doesn't matter that I wish I was beautiful and powerful and very far away. It doesn't matter that I found something, a piece of media that describes being different, and I clung to it like a lifeline. It doesn't matter that the person I connected to through that media did what I'm afraid to and was better for it. It doesn't matter that I can't breathe.

That's how it feels to live in the Midnight Realm. That's also how gender dysphoria feels. At least, that's how it felt to me.

"It was time I became a man."

Owen's line here is one of the two moments in the movie that makes me cry the hardest. I cried a lot, but I really cry there. The denial, the doubling down on the life you hate, that you can't connect with, but that you stick with because that other life you want or have been promised just seems too scary to strive for. Like Isabel in The Pink Opaque, he's afraid of what's inside him, and that fear keeps him away from his life and pushes him towards a life that doesn't suit him, that never suited him, but that he feels he has to live. A life as a real man.

I cried because the denial was heartbreaking and tragic. And very familiar. I was 16 when I learned what the word "transgender" meant, and that being that was something people could do. I didn't come out until I was 21, because it felt scary. I'd know. I'd be more certain. I'm not certain, and what if I'm wrong?

I'm 28 as I write this, and I've never been more certain. But I look back at myself, 10 years ago, and think what if nothing had changed. What if I hadn't taken those steps. What if I hadn't had the support I did and what if nobody had held my hand through that first step. What if nobody had given me the permission to come out and realise that I never needed permission?

Maddy tries to be that hand for Owen, but he's too scared. And that's familiar too. The first time I watched the movie I thought it was odd that Maddy tries to convince Owen to join her in The Pink Opaque, but she shows no joy in it. She doesn't describe how liberating it was to live her own life finally. She just describes the trauma it took to get there. But on my second watch I understood better. Because she had to return to the awful life that wasn't hers. Show how terrible this life is, how it isn't Owen's, how he can be that girl he briefly pretended to be when he wore Isabel's magic dress. The magic is that it's not pretend. This is who you could be.

The gentleness of the way Maddy interacts with Owen in every scene stands out to me. From drawing the tattoo on his neck, to never forcing him to come to terms with himself the way she did. It's not something she can force him into. He has to come to that conclusion himself. The scene where he tries on the dress and her reaction is very important to me. Seeing who he really is before even he does. The fact that the movie has gone out of its way to inform us that she is a lesbian is important, as it informs how she sees him. As a girl. Not as Isabel. Not as part of The Pink Opaque. Not as someone trapped in the Midnight Realm. A girl, first and foremost.

This is reinforced by the way Maddy reappears years after disappearing with shorter hair and wearing a shirt. Whether or not the character has made a change to her gender identity, we don't know, but she's found her truer self and wants to help Owen do the same.

The constant framing of Owen in pink hues, the way the aspect ratio changes between reality and the TV show and eventually starts presenting The Pink Opaque in the real aspect ratio, tell us who Owen is and who he is afraid to be.

If I'm harping on the same point. it's because that's what the movie is, a character piece about what if you didn't transition. What if you didn't take that step, and it takes great pains to show what it feels to be unfulfilled and watch your life go by without ever burying yourself, burying your old life, and rising into your new one as the person you should be.

Which brings me to the other line in the movie that makes me cry more than any other. A simple shot of a street with graffiti in the road, spelling out the ultimate message of Owen's character arc and the movie as a whole:

"There is still time."

There really is no time limit. There is time to learn how to breathe. To be yourself. I came out at 21, but I know plenty of people who came out later. The longer you have a life, the more difficult it is to let it go, and yet I don't know a single person who isn't happier having found a life as their more authentic self. It is always worth it.

That's what the ending is about, to me at least. I've heard people say it's bleak, that it ends suddenly without providing resolution on either the plot, or the allegory that the plot is about, but I disagree. Owen realises that Maddy was right. He gets the permission he's been waiting for for the last 20 years. His apologising for existing afterwards is more realistic than anything else - he's still himself. But he knows where his life should be. He knows to go and join his friend in The Pink Opaque. He knows how to breathe again.

Was Maddy right? Were they in the Midnight Realm the whole time? Was it all just a plot from Mr Melancholy? Were all the people in their lives just there to keep them there and keep them down? Was The Pink Opaque more than a TV show?

I don't care. That's not the part of the movie that moves me. That's just the vehicle through which the movie delivers what it's trying to say.

I describe the first steps of transitioning as a rabbit hole. It's dark, it's cramped, it's difficult to move and it seems like it goes on forever. Going down there in the first place is scary. Seems like a bad idea. What if it leads nowhere? What if it leads deeper? I have a sky that I can see here, and that's fine. My life has places it can go.

It's only after you come out the other side of the rabbit hole that you realise that what you've been seeing when you look up your whole life is the roof of a cave, and that the world is so much larger, and the air is so much crisper than you ever knew. You can move. You can breathe. You can see. The cave is comfortable when you don't know anything else, and the path out is terrifying. But the first time you see the sky, you know that you're never going back.

I cried the first time I saw the sky. And I cry when Owen sees the sky too.

[geeky-politics-46]

Just Hold Me

Pairing: Sinister Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: Something is wrong. You are acting odd & all Stephen wants to do is help you feel better

Warnings: Not much, light angst & references to potential depression. Fluffy ending. Sinister being the most loving devoted boy ever even if he doubts himself.

Totally a self-comfort piece. I've been feeling sad & this is what I want right now.

He wasn't used to seeing you this way. In fact, in all the time you had been in his universe, he had never seen you like this before. The light was missing from your eyes. You weren't crying, but your normal sunny disposition was nowhere to be found.

Your face was a blank slate. You didn't seem angry or outright upset, but your smile was nowhere to be seen. Even when he put on your favorite show, you weren't smiling and giggling like you normally would. It was breaking his heart.

You had always been the sunshine to his dark storm cloud self. You brightened his day and cleared away the gloom and cobwebs that had invaded his mind for years. He hoped that he hadn't somehow accidentally extinguished that fire and light that made you so enchanting. That was something he knew he would never forgive himself for. 

Even the weather outside had shifted with your personality. The cracks of sunlight that had started illuminating the barren land below, lulling it back to life, had dimmed. Storm clouds and low rumbles of thunder followed in the next few days. By the third day, it had begun steadily drizzling on and off all day.

Perhaps you wanted to leave but didn't know how to tell him. He was sure he would die if you did leave, but he wouldn't keep you there if you were no longer happy in his world. Or with him. Maybe you decided you couldn't love a monster like him anymore. He wouldn't blame you.

He found you sitting in your shared bed, bundled up in blankets, and just staring out the window. Watching the raindrops pitter patter against the window. Your hair hadn't been brushed in a day or two, and you were still in the shirt you slept in. 

"I know you have said nothing is wrong, but I know you are lying, my love. You can tell me if you want to leave. If you aren't happy with me anymore. If you have changed your mind about us. Or if I have done something to hurt you. I will make it right in any way that I can. Even if it means losing you. Your happiness is the most important thing in the multiverse to me." 

Your heart ached that you made him question your love for him. That had never even been a thought in your mind. You loved Stephen unconditionally. In fact, even you couldn't pinpoint what you were feeling or why you were feeling so withdrawn. You couldn't stand to see his eyes looking like a scolded puppy, and you immediately wanted him to be near you.

"Oh, Stephen. Come here. 

You unwrapped yourself from the blankets and patted the spot next to you on the bed. Wanting him to join you in your blanket cocoon.

"You haven't done anything to hurt me, and I definitely haven't changed my mind about us. I love you more than anything, Stephen. I'm just feeling really down, and I don't know why. It's stupid, and there's no real reason why that I can think of. I didn't want to bring your mood down with me, but I guess that didn't really work, huh?"

He had brought himself to sit in the bed next to you. Not wanting to touch you until you gave him permission, but he grabbed one of your hands in his as you wiped away a couple of stray tears with the other. 

"Trust me, darling. I have been to the depths of despair, and nothing you could say could bring me down. Not as long as you are here and you let me help you. Now, what do you need? Do you want anything to drink or eat? I can get you some more blankets to snuggle in. I can put on one of your favorite movies. I can leave you alone if you want me to, but I'd rather be here if you'll let me. Even if we just sit here in silence."

Your heart warmed at the honesty in his eyes and in his voice. You had never met a man quite like him. One who had seen and felt so much in his life. Had his world ripped apart in front of him, and yet all he wanted was to make you feel better. Even just having him next to you now made you feel a little less sad. A hint of a smile pulled at your lips for the first time in days. 

"Can you just hold me, please, Stephen? I just want to lay here and listen to the storm and have you hold me tight. I don't really know what's wrong with me right now, but you feel right to me."

He smiled at your request. He was so hoping that you would let him hold you. He knew that having you in his arms was always what made him feel better when the dark thoughts and lingering voices from the Darkhild threatened to overtake his mind. 

"Of course darling. All you ever have to do is ask." 

With that, he snuggled down under the covers and held you tight. Spooning you from behind and making sure his body touched yours as much as he possibly could before using his magic to pull the soft fluffy blankets up around both of you. Restoring your little cocoon you had made with both of you inside it now. Your hand quickly found its place over his, and your body wiggled to get even closer. 

He pressed a couple of soft, comforting kisses to your shoulder once you had found your comfortable spot. His heart fluttered a little when he heard you sigh and felt you relax into his arms. Letting your body melt into his. 

You stayed like this for what had to be hours. It didn't matter to him how long he stayed there. He wasn't going to let you go until you told him to. He would hold you until the universe collapsed around you both if you asked him to. His reason for living was to be the mooring that held you steady in both calm and stormy seas.

He knew you were on the verge of sleep by the way your breath pattern changed. It was only then that he let his own guard down and let himself begin to drift with you. Then, in the smallest and sweetest tone, he heard you whisper. It was barely audible.

"Thank you, Stephen. I love you."

He smiled softly to himself. Nudging his nose into your hair to get closer to you still. Whispering back into your ear, the truest words he had ever spoken in his life.

"I love you too, darling. Always and with all of my being. Though good and bad."

--------------------------------

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[ryuichirou]

Halloween is coming up! Who do you think would be the type to do couples costumes and what do you think they'd dress as?

Anon! Halloween is coming up indeed. And this is a very good question, considering we get to see boys going through Halloween every year… well, kind of sort of. Of course, technically, we’ve only seen them wearing one proper Halloween costume, and even then it was pretty much one costume per dorm, but that first ever Halloween event was very helpful in showing the boys’ attitude towards costumes and Halloween in general.

Now who would wear couples costumes… for some reason this part of your ask is much easier to answer than the second part lol But I’ll do my best and share my thoughts!

Thank you for your ask.

Ace and Deuce would do accidental couple’s costumes. They would work on their costumes separately, being very excited about Halloween and all, and then somehow they’ll end up matching perfectly lol They would be so weirdly embarrassed and a little bit pissed about it. Even though they would be dressed as Batman and Joker or something (maybe something less mainstream than that but), their roommates would call them Tweedledee and Tweedledum.

Trey wouldn’t necessarily do it right now, but he probably has a vision for his future when he and his partner (Riddle…) would feed trick-or-treating kids with homemade candy (some of the candies are yucky as a little prank!) while wearing couples costumes. His would probably be unapologetically cheesy and/or punny, maybe a little cringy. I feel like Trey is the type to do a “I’m a toothbrush, he is a toothpaste” type of shit lol It’s Trey’s dream, let him have fun in his head…

Kalim spent his entire life wanting to do a costume with Jamil! And if they were to start dating (or just sleeping together, or anything of this sort), Kalim would insist so stubbornly that Jamil won’t have a choice. “I can’t wear the same Halloween outfit as the Asim’s heir” doesn’t work anymore, and Kalim could even throw a little tantrum… anyways, they’ll end up doing couples costume! It would also probably be a very cheesy idea, but overly luxurious execution. Like ghosts, but the white sheet is bedazzled with Swarovski crystals. Well, with Jamil’s help, they could come up with something cooler. Like a doctor/scientist and his project, or a serial killer and his victim, or a tomb raider and a pharaoh’s mummy, or a king and a jester… somehow, Jamil always comes up with costumes with a very distinct and troubling power dynamics lol

Rook and Vil would absolutely do it, but they would also probably drag Epel into their little play, as they always do lol Not every single time though, so sometimes Epel gets to be the tiniest Jason Voorhees in the world. Meanwhile, Vil’s and Rook’s costumes are either a reference to a type of media that is kind of obscure for mainstream audience but very iconic for them (something more obscure than Beetlejuice and Phantom of the Opera, but less obscure than John Waters movies…), or very intricately done “original character” (idk how to call it) costumes: similar to their canon Vampire ones. Don’t ever doubt that these two came up with an entire lore for their characters while they were working on costumes. It’s never just some exorcist and some imp. It’s never just some investigator and some rich widow. There is always a story, and you don’t always want to know it lol Also, I feel like saying something about Morticia and Gomez is a must, but knowing how much Vil loves to overthink things, he’ll feel like these two are too obvious of a choice.

Ortho and Idia ABSOLUTELY do couple’s costumes! They’ve been doing it for their entire lives, and these days Idia is kind of anxious that Ortho will get bored of it one day and want to do couples costumes with someone else :( But Ortho wouldn’t! It’s super important for these two, and he loves doing it! They start planning their Halloween costumes very early, and always work on them together. I think the absolute majority of their Halloween costumes are either straight-up cosplay of their favourite horror characters, or their own take on some other characters. But Idia wouldn’t be Idia if he didn’t flex his design and craft skills, so whatever they end up doing, it looks so incredibly impressive… We’ve seen what he can do with his Pumpkin Knight costume with the sound effects and all. Like, these two would recreate a scene from Uzumaki with their costumes somehow. You wouldn’t even know what you’re looking at at first.

I also think Lilia would like to do a couple’s cosplay with Idia if they were dating… Maybe he would watch Idia and Ortho work on their costumes and feel like he kind of wants to have this much fun as well! But his costume with Idia wouldn’t be as complex, and he would probably go with something cute and silly and maybe a little bit provocative. For some reason it’s very easy for me to imagine Lilia going with a choir boy costume and making Idia dress like a priest lol Or a doctor with a nurse, or something like that.

Ironically, if he was to wear couple’s costume with Silver or Malleus, I think he would pick something else for himself. Something cute, but something less provocative~

[sorensolsikke]

it's pretty hard to accept as a kind of spiritual otherkin, but my mental view of my dragonkin's look is strongly affected by the media i was exposed to when i was a child, and my dragon fan phase was emerging.

so this is how i look. i drew this reference sheet recently, giving it many thoughts.

but the longer i look, the more similarities i find.

my scales are definitely blue with white belly because of saphira from the eragon movie – and books that i read as soon as i knew how to read. not even talking about the form of her neck and ratios of her body. i wanted to be like saphira more than anything, tho i hated her feathery wings in the movie (which was crap anyways. don't tell that to my five year old self tho.)

the form/colour of my wings, the narrowness of my face, my thorns and especially, the thorn under my chin seem to come from drago from bakugan (which series had been playing on cartoon network when i was very little, and needless to say, was my absolute favourite as a kid.) drago had been the comfort character through the first half of my life. i have so many drawings of him from kindergarten btw.

i was way too small when my favourite movie was the chamber of secrets (any harry potter movie is terrifying when you watch it as a three years old tbh.) anyways, the basilisk was my very first obsession. i got its teeth and form of mouth, i am just not good at drawing it. also, the lump of it's neck under the chin. this is the only harry potter part that i like. would have been even better if the basilisk were to survive.

lastly, the general outlook of myself was mostly formed by the book dragonology and the httyd books. i read through those again and again, like it was my religion. i am sure these gave me my round scales and and spikes.

i know definitely that since i can remember, i looked exactly like this. and somehow, i am still not certain if i were to watch other movies and read other books, i could have looked different, and that messes up my mind. sometimes i question myself with so unnecessary questions: was i really born like this? if not, why did i create this image? am i just a very enthusiastic fan? and even tho i know the answers don't even matter to me, the doubt still is my loyal company. something something i am just a gallery of all the things i have ever loved and shit

[mikuni14]

Jack & Joker - Ep 10

What an emotional and eventful episode✨

Of course I can't help but start with their 🔥 scene. Everything was very beautifully shot, visually and colorfully a bit like old Hong Kong movies, full of half-tones, very lovely. Yin and War delivered, but no surpise here, it's them. I really liked how they were together in this scene, a very pleasant reference to MaxTul, those muscles, sounds, smacking on naked body, grabbing it, passion and desire at the highest levels, but lined with playfulness, carefreeness, love 😏 In both couples we can see what I always appreciate very much, that is, their naturalness and that as a viewer I have no doubts that these characters played by these actors are super horny for their lovers 😤 Special mention of the Ikea clothes rack, because I recently assembled exactly that type, so I kind of relate, cue Di Caprio pointing at tv meme lol. (hot muscle daddies who push themselves into it for my entertainment were not included in my clothes rack set, I think I'll file a complaint).

The scene with Joke's father: siiiiiiiiigh but yeah, sadly I expected this, I also expected to hear: "we actually love you and miss you / but why didn't you visit us, we were waiting for you god you screwed up again". I don't know how you can go from "he's not my son" and "a thief is always a thief" to "come home for dinner", but what do I know, right? I was prepared for this, I still hate it.

The constant references to death, the repeated words about farewell, about forgiveness, returning as a ghost 😬, don't fill me with any particular optimism. I'm 99% certain of a happy ending, but… I am starting to worry a little. There is also an option that in the finale we will have a time skip 🙄 due to Joke, Jack, or both of them being in prison.

I also watch with neverending sadness Joke's low self-esteem and how he thinks that he doesn't deserve anything good, and how easily he is able to throw away his happiness, ruin his future.

As a big fan of communication between characters, between lovers, I have a "I told you so" moment that doesn't give me any satisfaction tho, it's just too sad. Because technically, objectively, almost everything actually is Joke's fault (I know that Boss is first and mainly to blame) and he constantly does things behind Jack's back - with the best and purest intentions - but still. He keeps throwing himself into situations, sacrificing himself completely, just to help Jack, but in reality… well. He only gets him more into trouble every time. Joke never asks Jack if he wants his "help", he just decides for him. Besides, Jack clearly told him not to try to help him anymore. I wholeheartedly support them, but looking from the outside, this is not a healthy relationship, in which there is so little honesty, trust and communication. And in which one has clear, unaddressed tendencies towards self-destruction, not taking into account his health, life, or even the possibility of being in prison again.

Save and attempts to whitewash him "because he's stuck too" and "there's no other way for him" irritate me. Oh he's sorry? He's sad? Well, his victims don't even have that luxury, because they're dead. Save didn't even try to soften what he's doing, trying to help somehow, warn Boss's victims, he just did what he was told without hesitation and on top of that showed unnecessary overzealousness. I don't want to hear that he's "like the others" because he actively works for Boss without even trying to mitigate the evil he's doing. Sorry, but fuck this guy.

I've seen emerging controversies related to trans characters, who seem to be treated worse in J&J. Please remember that during the first ring heist, in the same ep Noo Lek was treated badly and a male model was also attacked and beaten, who was completely innocent, who earns money for a living with his face and his body, so this beating was doubly bad. And regarding Jennie's character being thrown from a height: in the same episode, a literal child was also thrown from a height (and survied because of the plot armor, let's be honest). I know it seems like trans people are treated worse, but in this show, something bad happens to someone all the time, people are hounded, beaten, tortured, attacked, poisoned, exploited, cheated, forced to sell their body parts (!) and no one is spared, including children and the elderly. I think we noticed what seems like a pattern because there are simply more of trans / non binary people than in other series, and they are just as much victims of the system.

........

So a lot happened, I'm starting to worry a little about the ending, so I'll go back to my favorite moment in this episode: Jack grabbing Joke by the chin and guiding him to a kiss and then pinning his hand 🔥

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Heading into the 50th season of Saturday Night Live, fans of the show and its original cast may feel they already know all of the lore surrounding them and their iconic characters, such as how Dan Aykroyd and John Belushi took two white guys in black suits and rocketed The Blues Brothers to the top of the charts with a multi-platinum album in 1978 and a subsequent movie in 1980 that co-starred Aretha Franklin, Ray Charles, and James Brown—and in doing so, revitalized the careers of those music legends. And yet, somehow, there are revelations aplenty in a new two-hour oral history, Blues Brothers: The Arc of Gratitude, debuting Thursday exclusively on Audible.

Aykroyd, now 72, narrates and presides over the retrospective, which features previously unheard audio from Belushi (who died in 1982), some of the last testimony of his widow, Judith Belushi Pisano (who died earlier this month), as well as anecdotes from Blues Brothers musical director Paul Shaffer, band members Lou Marini and Steve Jordan, plus drummer Willie Hall, Belushi’s real-life inspiration Curtis Salgado, filmmaker John Landis, and his wife, costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis.

As Belushi’s widow explains, the real origin story of The Blues Brothers involved a lot more than what we saw on screen.

“They were characters. No doubt about it,” Pisano recalls. “They were somewhat alter-egos, as well. They were sort of characters on the stage of life. It wasn’t a bit, exactly, that they ended up doing. I know that it’s often referred to The Blues Brothers as developed from a skit on Saturday Night Live, and you know, that’s really just not true. It’s not how it happened.”

From road trips to roadhouses to 30 Rock

While the Aykroyd-Belushi partnership officially began on stage in Toronto at The Second City—after which they did listen to a live blues band that very first night and share their common tastes in music—the idea for them to perform music in addition to comedy came a bit later when the duo drove cross-country. “They sort of jokingly said, let’s do a band,” Pisano recalls. Belushi, then already a star of The National Lampoon’s off-Broadway musical, Lemmings, as well as The National Lampoon Radio Hour, had recruited Aykroyd from Toronto, and he was sleeping on a mattress on the floor of the studio apartment Belushi shared with Pisano on Bleecker Street.

Belushi would get up onstage with bands in NYC or on road trips and sing the old Robert Johnson tune, “Sweet Home Chicago,” which Pisano says “was a well-known, popular, easy to play song.” Lorne Michaels saw one of Belushi’s performances and suggested he do it to warm up the studio audience at Saturday Night Live. Belushi got Aykroyd involved. Willie Nelson gave Jake and Elwood their first big break

Belushi already had befriended Willie Nelson, according to Aykroyd, and they laid out their initial concept for a blues band to Nelson backstage during his residency at The Lone Star Cafe, a former nightclub on Fifth Avenue. “Within a few minutes, Willie had agreed to lend us his band as a backup for a trial show in which Jake and Elwood would open for him,” Aykroyd says. He and Belushi learned a few songs for the gig. “The reaction was favorable, although clear that neither John nor I were conservatory-trained artists, we had a good feel for the music, and we knew how to feature an all-star band.”

Comedian Lenny Bruce helped inspire their signature look

“The wardrobe was inspired by Lenny Bruce, who always wore a dark suit, black string tie and white shirt,” Aykroyd says. “The hat and shades were meant to emulate John Lee Hooker from the photo on the cover of his album House of the Blues. It delighted us that we were compared to IRS agents, Men in Black, and the reference in the movie when Aretha Franklin says that we resemble Hasidic diamond merchants.”

“They found the stuff in thrift shops,” Pisano adds, “and then once the movie hit, they were on—you got yourself a designer, and custom-made suits before you know it.”

Enter Landis’s wife, costume designer Deborah Nadoolman Landis, who had outfitted Belushi’s “COLLEGE” sweatshirt for National Lampoon’s Animal House, and later picked out the fedora and jacket for Indiana Jones, as well as Michael Jackson’s red Thriller jacket. She recalls how haphazard their early outfits looked as Jake and Elwood: “They were using any jacket and any pair of black trousers, usually didn’t match. So they were not in suits, they were unsuited. And any hat, and any tie, and any shirt, and any glasses that looked OK.”

Lorne Michaels was initially skeptical the idea would work

That their first blues song onscreen happened in their SNL “Killer Bee” costumes? Not part of the plan. “Which John hated,” Landis alleges. “And I think it was Lorne sticking it to him.” But after that performance of “I’m a King Bee” on the Jan. 17, 1976, episode, SNL’s musical director Howard Shore dubbed Aykroyd and Belushi The Blues Brothers, and they were off and running.

Belushi tasked Paul Shaffer, an original SNL house band member (and later longtime band leader for David Letterman’s late-night reign), to hire the rest of The Blues Brothers band, which originally included Shaffer on keys, Marini on sax, Al Rubin on trumpet, Tom Malone on trombone, and Steve Jordan on percussion. “I just knew I was having a better time than I ever thought I would have in my whole life,” Shaffer recalls. “Everybody was having so much fun.” And of Aykroyd and Belushi, Shaffer says: “They were explosive individually,” but together, “like a tornado, that’s what the two were like.”

Malone suggested getting Otis Redding’s guys, Steve Cropper and Duck Dunn on lead guitar and bass to fill out the rhythm section, and then they added another guitarist, Matt “Guitar” Murphy, after seeing him perform elsewhere in the city.

“An odd mixture of people, but man, it worked,” Marini says. “But Lorne didn’t dig it. And then one of the shows late in the season, they were short, and he said, you guys want to do your silly song? Go ahead and do it. And so we did it on the show. And it was a tremendous hit. People just went crazy for it.”

Belushi was furious at anyone who dared criticize the band When The Blues Brothers scored a #1 hit with their debut album, 1978’s Briefcase Full of Blues, Belushi found himself that fall with the top album, along with a box-office smash in Animal House, to go with his fame on SNL. But he was not without his critics.

In a previously unheard interview conducted with journalist Steve Bloom for a 1979 profile in the Soho Weekly News, we hear Belushi brushing back criticism of The Blues Brothers as a novelty act or appropriating black culture.

“It’s just weird, you know. Why would I do these things?” he says. “First of all, it has nothing to do with ego. It has nothing to do with money. Or the need to be loved by an audience. I don’t have any of those feelings. What the fuck do these people think I am, anyway? I can’t fucking understand why they would attack—see when they attack me, they attack the band. And I hate when they attack the band, because then it makes them look like schmucks for doing what they did for me.” One famous scene from ‘The Blues Brothers’ film was inspired by real life

Aykroyd reveals that one scene in their 1980 film is a nod to their actual record deal: “Where we are about to escape from the Palace Ballroom and commence the final run for Chicago. A 350-pound, 6-foot-4-inch man resembling a Turkish spa attendant lunges out from the wings to offer a record deal. This scene is a direct reprise of what happened when John and I left the stage as The Blues Brothers that first night. In the dressing room halls of 8H, at the page stand, Michael Klenfner, who played the guy in the film and was an acquaintance of John’s, grabbed us and said, ‘You guys should do a record. I’m Michael Klenfner from Atlantic Records. Ahmet (Ertegun) will love this.’” Klenfner died at 62 in 2009.

Film distributors didn’t think Southern audiences could handle the film’s ‘Black’ music

Landis says he intended to make a 70mm “road movie” complete with an intermission, but he and Universal couldn’t even convince cinema distributors to roll out the film nationwide. He and Aykroyd claim exhibitors—Landis singled out Ted Mann of Mann Theatres, who’d bought the Fox Theater chain—worried that audiences in the South and elsewhere would object to a film filled with predominantly “Black” music and performers. So they only debuted in 600 cinemas instead of 1,400, and tried to mount a live concert tour to promote it.

Aykroyd saw none of the film’s massive box office profits

Even though the movie brought in more than $115 million at the box office, Aykroyd saw none of it. He says he received a $225,000 salary for writing and performing in the movie, “for which I was grateful then and am now, as I was only a net points participant in the proceeds, this is all the fee and money I have ever received from The Blues Brothers movie. Universal’s position is that due to the high costs at the time, my net points remain worthless.”

The Belushis fared a bit better, as Pisano said John Belushi used $150,000 he’d received as a bonus from Animal House’s success to subsidize the 1978 album recordings, which took place live at Universal Amphitheatre while they served as Steve Martin’s opening act. “We weren’t repaid [by Atlantic] until well after we recorded everything and they’d heard it, so I think we were probably a little naive to assume we were getting that money back,” Pisano says. “But: Best investment I ever made.”

Sean L. McCarthy @thecomicscomic

[starlightshore]

Gotta say, I love how you made so many posts criticizing people who see Chara as an abuser, yet in your own AU you depict them as a cruel, vindictive bully who tries to turn Asriel's family against her, drives her to suicide, then guilt-trips her into getting back together with them. Yet Asriel is somehow the real abuser because she's mad at them for ruining her life. I am by no means a Chara hater, but that seems a little inconsistent.

// CW: discussions of suicide, long post

wow, what an incredibly uncharitable reading of my work! thank you so much!

okay, jokey-positive aside. i shouldn't respond to bad-faith criticism like this because it's not worth my time as it's unlikely you'll actually hear me out in response. I've been online long enough to know you don't feed the trolls.

but, I'm an optimist at heart and I'll give you the benefit of the doubt that you're actually upset with me and do want to have a civil conversation and are not just here to spew hate and drag me down.

Ask Fallen Royalty, the tumblr version wasn't handled the best as it was my first attempt at really trying to write this subject matter and I felt I didn't tackle it as well as I could have. that's something I plan on fixing with the rewrite.

that said, I have never called either of the siblings abusers.

they're flawed, mentally unwell and traumatized young adults/teens who are in no way equipped to handle the situation they were put in.

they both did awful things. Asriel packaged their trauma in a sanitized way for profit and sympathy points believing it'd benefit Monsterkind. they did so without asking Chara for permission. Then later, at Christmas, Asriel abandoned their family to go solo ruling. That's shitty! That's objectively really shitty but it's a very understandable reaction.

Asriel is taught that money is what moves the world and they believe they're soulless and a faker. That if anyone were to know their secret they'd hate them. so prevent that hurt, they cut everyone else out.

That's completely why Chara goes from "oh man I miss Asriel I wish I was good enough to have them beside me again ):" to 180 "Actually screw them for leaving me i hate them for this. i don't deserve to wallow in pain waiting for someone who can't even bother to text me back" them cutting of asriel is an understandable reaction for anyone, let alone a teenager! could they have been more gentle? yeah. could they have tried to fix things? yeah! but they're not a villain for not having the emotional maturity or foresight to handle a complex situation like that. they're like, literally 15/16 at this point of the story

chara also wasn't trying to drive people away from asriel? i really don't know what you're referring to with this aside from Chara deciding to tell the (at the time they believed) truth that Asriel is Flowey. At that point, Chara literally thought Asriel was replaced by Flowey. That they were two different people. That's not to isolate them- its to be honest with the family with this huge news. Toriel is shown not to care that her children are flowers, it would have never mattered to her as we see immediately that Chara is a flower and Toriel doesn't care.

chara also didn't drive Asriel to suicide. that's a blatant misread of the text. It's not that Asriel decided to die right after Chara decided to cut them off. and it's NOT like chara handed them a loaded gun or told them to do anything. all they did was say "don't lie to our family and don't talk to me, i don't want to be friends with you."

Asriel didn't decide to die until they felt their weak support system was breaking down. Yun wanted to be with Mew Mew, the Band broke up (Shyren, Napstablook and most recently Mew Mew quit), they made a big stupid movie that they hate (the epitome of their fake narrative on the silver screen), and because they ditched the premiere to check on chara (who was missing) their agents are pissed off.

Mew Mew then talks about how troubled Flowey/Asriel is and how being a secret flower hurt their social life. (The relationship with Flora being a strong example) like, Flowey always sabotages or loses those they care about because everyone else has their own life and they don't open themselves to create connections that last because they're running away. it's the culmination of everything going wrong that drives them to that point.

plus, it's hammered home later in Flowey's introspection that they feel horribly guilty for their actions as Flowey. parading as their perfect King when they secretly killed a majority of mosnterkind and did who knows what else is like. majorly fucked up.

i'm unsure if you forgot or chose to ignore the larger narrative or what's happened, but these things are in the story. they're both messed up individuals who have a hard time communicating their feelings -Chara literally brings up having emotional dysregulation disorder and CPTSD in the epilogue. Asriel's imposter syndrome and-gestures to Flowey) is also a clear indication that they've got some fundamental mental health issues that prevent them from understanding themselves and others.

it's a story about broken people who lash out against each other but ultimately come together in love.

they care so so deeply for each other! they're family. messing up (especially as children, teenagers etc) doesn't mean you shouldn't be written off as disposable. you're ALL capable of fucking up severely but you have the chance to grow and better yourself. you owe it to those who are willing to give that chance to do better. that's what the story has always been about.

I will admit that I plan on working on the pacing and giving chara more sweet moments so it doesn't come across as harsh -I don't want either sibling to be seen as a "villain" or """""abusive"""" as you call them. Except, yeah, Asriel is meant to be seen as an antagonist for a brief while, but that's set up Chara to come to that realization just the same as the audience should.

i hope this helped you understand what i was going for. if you wanna talk further I don't mind, but please talk to me as a real person. we're on the same page that abuse is bad. that people shouldn't treat each other so horribly. i don't excuse either of the character's interactions but i want to show empathy and understanding and that they can grow past that. i sincerely hope we can come to a shared perspective. if you wanna, i'd love to talk about i can make this message more clear, i'd love some proper criticism! i hope you have a lovely day and that you please be more considerate to how you to talk to others as I could have very easily read this anon hate/trolling.

[foxes-that-run]

Fabulous Magazine August 2013

(x) Harry said he doesn't remember saying dating is a pain. This is referring to media that he said dating Taylor is a pain in This is Us, which he didn't say.

THE BETH NEIL INTERVIEW

Anyone in any doubt as to just how big One Direction have become should take a trip to the States. Seriously. The nation (along with the rest of the world) has gone stark staring mad.

Teenage girls are staking out hotel lobbies across the Texan city of Houston where, straight after our photo shoot and interview, Harry Styles, Niall Horan, Liam Payne, Louis Tomlinson and Zayn Malik will play to 18,000 screaming fans in scenes reminiscent of Beatlemania. Goodness gracious, Directioners (as the fandom call themselves) are loud.

And despite our exclusive cover shoot being held in a deserted wasteland – its location having been shared among only a few need-to-know people – hundreds of lovestruck fans somehow track us down.

Considering the chaos that surrounds them, the boys themselves are remarkably relaxed. They’re the globe’s biggest boy band, with sales of 30 million, a combined wealth of £25million and their very own 3D movie, This Is Us, directed by Morgan Spurlock of Super Size Me fame, out later this year. And yet they haven’t changed one iota since they were first thrown together on The X Factor three years ago in a moment of utter genius from then-guest judge Nicole Scherzinger.

Without exception, the boys are a pleasure to be around, making what could have been a gruelling day in the blazing heat seem pretty easy with their good humour and total lack of celebrity airs and graces. As Liam puts it: “We’re the worst divas in the world.”

Harry is first to emerge from the tour bus, closely followed by Niall (with guitar) and a topless Liam, who has only had a couple of hours’ sleep and hasn’t yet showered (“Sorry if I smell!”). Zayn and Louis are the last to arrive, looking at ease and ready – life on the road is tiring work. Harry’s sister Gemma, 22, is also here, tasked with looking after band hairstylist Lou Teasdale’s beyond-cute toddler, Lux. It’s all one big happy 1D family.

Between shots, we sit down with each of the boys to find out what on earth has been happening since we last met a year ago. Which one has a secret love interest? Who’s gagging for a beer? And who, pray tell, has discovered his inner rebel since becoming single?

Photographed exclusively for Fabulous by Mark Hayman.

HARRY, 19 "I'M NO ANGEL BUT I DON'T WANT TO BE SEEN AS A D***HEAD"**

So, Harry, what’s been the wildest night out on the tour so far? There was a night in New York, which obviously I didn’t drink at because I’m not legal to drink in the States. But we had a couple of days off, and we took our crew out and spoke to this lady who owned this bar and she let us all in. It was amazing – seeing all the crew get wasted and having fun was brilliant. That night was a 5 am-er. But obviously I wasn’t drinking.

Didn’t you recently throw up on stage? Yeah! It wasn’t that embarrassing, more like a little bit annoying. Everyone thought it was because I’d been out drinking and going off the rails. I think it was actually the least rock ’n’ roll explanation ever in that I’d just had one too many slices of pizza.

It’s been reported that you described relationships as “a pain in the arse”. Is that true? I don’t actually remember saying that. I’m sure some people find that they are. They’re not easy, that’s for sure, but I don’t think they’re a pain in the arse, no.

Of all the boys, it’s your love life that gets the most interest. Does that get tiresome? The only time it can get annoying is when you like someone. But they’re thinking: “But I’ve seen him with all of these others.” It’s OK. I get it. It’s not something I complain about. If I looked at everything going on in my life and chose to focus on that then my priorities are in the wrong place. People who are on the outside need to understand, so that’s fine. But take 10 of the people I’ve been linked to and eight or nine of them are just friends or people I’ve met once.

Do you worry about getting a reputation? Yeah. I just don’t want to be seen as a d***head. I don’t worry about my mum because she gets it and knows what I’m like. But I don’t want other people to think I’m an a**hole.

We’re sure most people see a lad having fun. Thanks, I hope so. But at the same time, I’m not an angel.

We bet... Are you single or dating? Right now? This very second.

Do you mean dating someone or just dating? OK, we’ll make it clearer! Are you with one person right now? No. I’m single at the moment and I haven’t been mingling that much either. Touring is so hard and it’s hard to get to know someone in a day. You don’t get enough time to meet someone and say: “I really like you. Do you want to come on the road for a bit?” We’re rarely anywhere for even two days at the moment.

Is there anyone in your life who could become “significant”? There is... I’ve got someone that I like, but we’ll see.

Is it Kara Rose Marshall (the 22-year-old British model Harry was recently linked to)? Um... There’s just someone in mind. There’s always someone who’s the person you think about if something happens. But, yeah. There’s nothing really happening at the moment.

OK, moving on. Do you have unusual on-the-road essentials? I always bring a candle from home, so the bus smells like your house. The Diptyque ones are my favourites. But they’re not good. Oh and you know those dried mango flakes?

Yeah, they’re horrible! They are not! I eat them like crisps. They’re amazing.

This is your third Fabulous cover shoot – you’re veterans at this now. Yeah. I loved the black-and-white one we did with you last time. I love the Fabulous shoots, they’re always fun.

Fabulousmag.co.uk