#I'm thinking of Monopoly now
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i forgot to make a post about this but one of the reasons i believe megumi will be saved and come back, and how that will tie with a major moment in the story (either related to sukuna or the merger), is because of his name. or, to be more precise, because of his father and the legacy he chose to leave behind. toji's character has been the catalyst for almost everything in the current timeline of jjk. he was behind gojo's awakening, riko's death, geto's spiraling and defection which ultimately led to kenjaku's possession of geto's body, the lack of options to release gojo from the prison realm when he was imprisoned by kenjaku, he was the object of yuki's study to break free from the status quo, etc. quite literally, if we do have a plot, we have to thank toji for it. toji, who turned the world upside down and changed everyone's lives by breaking the chains of fate - literal symbolism used in regards to him and other concepts within the story like binding vows, specifically the one sukuna made with yuuji. toji, the one who linked the six eyes, the star plasma vessel and tengen (subsequently relating to the merger) by achieving a state of no cursed energy and reaching something akin to enlightment. such a bringer of chaos who was looked upon as the key to save the world by yuki, who knew there would have to be a change in the souls of the population of japan and cursed energy as a whole to finally break free from the cycle of suffering (breaking from the samsara and achievement of nirvana). now, how does that relate to megumi? the irony in the role toji plays within this story as someone who was born without power. the fact his influence caused nothing but destruction yet he birthed a blessing. what if megumi's name meaning blessing isn't just a coincidence or cute detail symbolising toji's love for his family but a sign for what's to come? what if the blessing yuki saw in toji's achievements as well actually translates to something more meaningful. more precisely, what if megumi is, quite literally, the embodiment of it?
#sorry i am once again obsessed with the existance of toji fushiguro#now that the new chapter hints at the merger i cannot stop thinking about this#i made a post about this before but i used to think gojo's death linked to other happenings in the manga with tengen would be the key to#deal with the merger and take down the status quo and the ce monopoly japan holds#now that gege added uraume to the conditions of the culling game and the story is heading in that direction#it feels fitting that there's some sort of relation#yuuji's manipulation of souls megumi's soul... idk idk but i wouldn't be surprised if megumi came back and i am actively waiting for it#if it doesn't happen i will be actually surprised#there's also the whole sukuna and yuuji sort of being a whole i am so scared of yuuji in the sense i'm afraid he'll sacrifice himself in#the end and the story will end just like his grandfather said#idk the merger can also add other variables to all of this who knows what's about to happen#anyways i'll shut up now agsjshsj#jujutsu kaisen#jjk leaks#toji fushiguro#megumi fushiguro#jjk 💭
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UMM okay I have a question for. You: if prism was in some perilous situation and her robots were present, do you think they'd actually do what she says and leave her to die? How would they feel about the whole thing?
i think they would be incredibly hesitant, but ultimately i don't think they would have much of a choice. as lifelike as they are, they are robots, and they follow prism's instructions to a tee when she gives them any. in a best case scenario, they might find someone else who would be able to help prism for them.
i think they would feel very guilty regardless of whether or not prism survives a circumstance like that. for entities who can essentially reanimate as many times as they need to- so long as they have back ups of themselves- losing someone permanently has got to be a very unexpected and traumatizing ordeal for them.
... though, now that i think about it. if prism did die, i think that would be the equivalent of striking a hornet's nest with a baseball bat. canonically, the robots care for her very deeply, and canonically they're physically capable of getting very, very mad. and without prism to tell them to hold themselves back or flee, i don't think its out of the question that they might want to avenge her- even at the expense of some of their lives.
#ieytd#robutler#roxana prism#sort of#ask#the fact that none of the little bobots fear death is a very interesting tool that phoenix (probably) does not have at their disposal#ultimately so long as the proper conditions are met they can come back as many times as it takes#i'm picturing a hoard of seething robots like a swarm of locusts. clawing and charging and firing their beams and such#... though now a part of me is wondering- for the phoenix reanimates headcanoners- why no one's claimed a monopoly-#-on phoenix and any of the robots sharing experiences on coming back to life again. i think they would believe him no questions asked#seeing as they're canonically willing to believe they have a factory they can just respawn from#anyways im digressing. bobot swarm
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#i think I'm legally required to post this now#if la mer had gotten into the semi-finals I would have been legally required to post monopoly mermaid monday
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if you are a youngest child, chances are board games were always a strange ritual, of which you were made to confusedly sit at a table for long periods of time; the only clarity you have is that you are most definitely not winning.
#time to make new rules for yourself#the objective is to stack all the leftover monopoly pieces while people debate heatedly about something or other#all the people in the car in life should be the same color actually#I think I can make the spinner stop with my mind.#are we done yet?#I'm underneath the table now#feels
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genuinely diabolical how much better i feel after having a meal after feeling like shit most of the day. i think you get so used to sucking it up with chronic pain that you forget some things Are avoidable and sometimes there Are things that help. maybe not with everything, maybe it won't Fix anything, but it can *help*. and that's worth something, actually.
#lostwood.txt#rambling#i am indeed a clown#we know this. you will come to know this over and over again.#but like. AAA#i've been so exhausted and so miserable for the last few weeks and i'm Realising its because my routine (and regular meals) got Nuked#by having my house turned upside down!#they still haven't finished the kitchen btw. they said it would be a Week at Most. it's been 3 weeks.#nearly 3 months if you count the bathrooms getting done before that#and for WHAT?#''so it matches our other units'' die.#chew glass.#go play in traffic you miserable fucking monopoly of a housing association#''oh we're under a lot of presure'' maybe you should stop fucking buying other housing associations then! bitch!#like??????#what did you think would happen? who did you think would be responsible for the houses you now own? bitch ?????#anyway
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She Wolf
A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!
Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.
Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!
Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)
divider credit here
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“Are you ever gonna tell him?”
You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.
“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”
You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.
You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.
Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now.
“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week.
“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.
Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again.
“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”
You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.
“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand.
He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”
Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”
She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play.
It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie.
“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.
“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.
“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.
“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.
“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.
As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.
Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.
“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.
“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”
It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze.
Definitely not my type of girl.
“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs.
“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.
“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.
“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”
“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly.
“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”
“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”
“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence.
Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.
“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.
The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.
“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.
Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”
“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.
“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.
“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”
“Only one way to find out.”
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.
It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers.
Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.
“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”
“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed.
“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”
He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”
“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.
He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing.
“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”
Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.
Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.
“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.
“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”
Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.
“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.
“I’m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.
“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice.
“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently.
“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable.
“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.
Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more.
“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.
“Hey, you wanna dance?”
He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne.
“Sure, why not?”
As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.
“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.
───────♡──────────────♡───────
Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.
“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.
“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”
“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.”
“No.”
“Yup.”
“Nope.”
“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?”
Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.
The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people.
“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.
“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.
“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.
She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Open up and set it free
There's a she wolf in your closet
Let it out so it can breathe
You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter.
And you were with a guy.
Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey
It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way
“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.
“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”
“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.
That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way.
Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys
I just want to enjoy
By having a very good time
And behave very bad in the arms of a boy
You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.
The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.
S.O.S., she's in disguise
S.O.S., she's in disguise
“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”
You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing.
There's a she wolf in disguise
Coming out, coming out, coming out
Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.
“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him.
“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip.
There's a she wolf in the closet
Let it out so it can breathe
“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.
“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”
“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.
“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants.
“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”
What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs.
“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you.
“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time.
“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.
“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”
“What was that? You’re welcome - “
“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”
“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”
He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”
None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before.
You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete.
“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”
“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.”
You hugged her back.
“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze.
“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.
“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”
The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.
“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”
You understood what she meant immediately.
“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”
“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”
Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.
You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.
“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”
“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.
“And I can’t want it either?”
That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.
You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom.
“What’s going on with you?”
“Leave me be.”
You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out.
“Logan.”
He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.
“Move.”
“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “
“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.
“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.
You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.
“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”
Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him.
“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”
“Why do you care?”
You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.
“Stop.”
You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.
You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“
“I’m not.”
He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.
“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.
“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”
You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.
“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”
You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.
“It worked, are you happy?”
“No, I’m not - “
“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”
You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started.
“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.
“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.
“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed.
You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name.
“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.
He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.
“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”
Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.
“Save me the trouble of what?”
You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.
“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”
You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you.
“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”
You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.
“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”
All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind.
“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”
He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.
“Logan.”
Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you.
No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top.
“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.
You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.
“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”
“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”
After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.
“Did it work?”
His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.
You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath.
“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”
Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.
Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.
“Can I kiss you?”
You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.
You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him.
When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.
“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.
“Agreed.”
His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.
He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.
“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”
“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.
“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.
He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”
His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.
“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck.
“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go.
Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.
“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.
“Please what, baby?”
“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck.
He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back.
“Can I take this off you, baby?”
You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.
“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”
He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.
You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking.
“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.
“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs.
Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.
He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.
“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.
You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.
“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.
“Yeah?”
His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.
“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.
You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.
“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”
He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.
He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name.
A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.
“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”
It was Scott.
You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face.
“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.
“You sure?”
You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing.
“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”
Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.
Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.
“Logan, I’m - “
“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”
His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.
“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.
“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.
He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers.
“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.
Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.
“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.
“You’re into pain, huh?”
You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.
“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing.
When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.
“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”
His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him.
You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking.
“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist.
“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust.
You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back.
Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.
“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.
“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out.
“Feels good?”
It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size.
“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him.
“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.
That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress.
He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.
“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again.
“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you.
He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful.
“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.
“Bite me.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”
“Please.”
You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.
He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip.
“Please.”
His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again.
You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds.
Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm.
“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.
“Want me to stay?”
“Mhm - please.”
The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep.
“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”
The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.
“Really?”
“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”
You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be.
“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.
“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.
Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.
“You can make it up to me some more.”
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A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#wolverine x reader#wolverine fic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut#wolverine
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Between The Lines
Summary-> It's the little things that go on behind the scenes between you and Drew that makes your chemistry electric.
Belongs to my: OBX Season 5: Payback for Maybank Series
These can be read in any order!
"Park place." Maddison narrates where Drew lands his dog piece across the monopoly board. "I'll buy it." He says but your hand is in his face, "Not so fast. I'm sure you would love to buy it if I didn't already have a hotel on it. You owe me $1500. Pay up." You show him your open palm, ready for lots and lots of cash.
"He's so cooked. Look at that pathetic stack of cash Drew has. I've got piggy banks with more than that." Jonathan's comments send the four of you erupting into a fit of laughter which eventually dies down to a patient silence. "Sometime today would be great." Madison clears her throat.
"Josh is coming!" Drew points, appealing to your gullibility and you all fell for it. By the time you realized he was bluffing, the board was tossed and the pieces were all out of place. He gets up and runs off as if he already knew you'd be hot on his heels.
Your outburts left JD and Madison alone to pick up the pieces, but not without an interesting conversation. "50 bucks they're together by the time we finish the season." Madison says it so casually as she reaches underneath the couch for the pieces.
"So I'm not crazy? You see it too?" He looks almost relieved. "Trust me, I've got a knack for these things." JD seems skeptical about the timeline of the bet. "I dunno, we finish filming in four months. That might be too soon, I say by the premiere."
The both of them look up to Carlacia who seemed to have been streaming live on her istagram. She enters the room mumbling something about getting winded by you and Drew sprinting past her.
Madison scoffs, "That's like nine months from now. They could get together and break up by then, but you know what-- If that's what you wanna bet, then be my guest." She holds out her hand and JD shakes on it. "You're on."
"We're ready for you guys." One of the assistants notifys them that it was time to head to the screening room where the weekly table reads were held.
Today would be your first look at the script for the second episode, and to say you were shocked was an understatement.
Script Summary:
Eventually the pogues put their trust in Piper and she gives them a fair exchange of some arms that they can handle, while she opts for her weapon of choice, a steel pipe.
"How do you think I got the name and the scar?" She says and it puts an odd sense of comfort among the group, minus a skeptical Rafe, to know you were confident enough in your skills that you didn't need a gun.
They beleived they were in good hands, until they realized they weren't. There was movement coming from the bushes and it made the pogues stand on guard, beckoning them to come out. Soon, the figures finally revealed themsleves. More mercenaries.
"Nicely, done Piper. It seems you can still make yourself useful after all." The red-headed woman speaks up, tossing you a pouch of money that you caught with one hand effortlessly.
"Never doubt my capabilities, it's insulting." You warn, tucking the pouch into the bag strapped across your back. The british woman continues, "Y'know, Mr. Finch could use your talents again. Once we're done tying up loose ends, we're headed back to home base in Lisbon."
Rafe is livid. He knew he couldn't trust you. It couldn't be by pure coincidence that the mercenaries popped up in the middle of this oasis when you were leading. "Lisbon? You told us Finch was here-" Kiara exclaims and Rafe interrupts.
"It was all a lie, from the very beginning. Mr. Alami, the merchant from Agapenta, he was working with you, wasn't he? You knew he'd send us to you, and now you got your sad little payout from these dipshits for bringing us to them." Rafe seethes.
"I'll neither confirm nor deny that claim, love the enthusiasm though." Your attitude remains unbothered throughout the ordeal until Pope demands, "What do you want from us? We don't have the crown! Groff took it." The red head shrugs casually, sharpening her blades as she approaches the group.
"Don't you worry, Groff will get what's coming to him. For now, it's time to repay the debt that is owed. You get blood on your hands, I get blood on mine." Your eyes bulge, "Hang on, you never said you wanted to kill them." You step in and the woman pays you no mind.
"Perhaps because It's none of your concern. You've got your cut, now's a good time as ever to leave. It's about to get messy." She retracts her hand, about to plunge the blade into Pope when she's knocked out cold by a flying piece of steel.
The group looks over to you in shock, fear, and a hint of gratitude, but there's no time to gush about it when there's suddenly a brawl that breaks out between the mercenaries and the pogues.
You all hardly take them out before escaping.
"Piper, what the hell?!" John B yells and his anger is heavily agreed on in the group, you take it on the chin before offering the most sincere apology you could come up with. They're unconvinced. "I deserve that. Everything you heard back there is true. Finch's Fortress is in Lisbon. If you find him, you'll find Groff," You trail off, reaching into your bag, handing Cleo the pouch of money you'd just gotten.
"Take this. It's more than enough to get you a boat big enough to get across the atlantic and even have some leftover for food for a few days. When you arrive on the coast of Cascais, you'll need to head north in-land."
There's silence.
A long silence, nervous glances between the pogues and Rafe's eyes roll. "You guys cannot seriously be considering trusting her. She almost had us killed! Am I the only one who cares about making it back home?"
"Just shut up, Rafe!" John B silences him, and Pope speaks up. "Listen, I don't know about you guys but Piper just saved my life when she didn't have to. We've already lost someone. Going after Groff could be a suicide missison for all we know. But we all know this isn't about our safety, it's about revenge. For JJ." His speech is moving, the expressions agree.
"For JJ." They all agree.
"To Lisbon we go." Cleo chimes, and the group moves on.
End of Script*
You had just finished reading the script and you were blown away. The cast never knows what to expect whenevfer a new script is dropped in front of them.
"Wait a minute... If the pogues are going to Lisbon in the next episode then," Madison trails off and the director ties in, "So are we. Pack your bags, flights are booked for Saturday morning at 5am, please do not miss these flights, we're not opposed to writing you out!" Josh jokes and there's excited and shock all around the table.
You knew that the last season of the show had implied that the pogues would be on their way to Lisbon but it never dawned on you that it would be so soon, even though it made sense.
"You ever been to Portugal?" Drew leans in, a soft whisper in your ear tickled your skin and made the hairs on the back of your neck at attention. "Never, have you?" He thinks about it, "If a layover counts then yes, yes I have." You're not sure if the joke was funny or if it just left the mouth of an incredibly attractive man, nonetheless, it made you giggle.
Madison kicks JD from under the table, jutting her chin towards the two of you giggling in secret and he rolls his eyes. "Patience." He says it calmly, but Madison is impatient, she knows she'll reign triumphant by the end of it all.
-
It’s a Friday night—or, more accurately, the early hours of Saturday morning. The world outside your accommodations complex is still cloaked in sleep, and you should be too. But no. The responsibility of making your flight in two hours has ripped you from the warmth of your bed. Groggy but determined, you scrambled to gather your belongings, knowing you wouldn’t be back.
After a last sweep of the room, you opened the door with a flicker of confidence—only to jump at the sight of a six-foot-two figure standing in your doorway.
“Drew! Oh my god, you scared me.” Your hand flew to your chest in a theatrical gesture, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
A small smile tugged at his lips, his eyes crinkling slightly. “Sorry. Just wanted to make sure you were actually up. Everyone else already left. There’s one driver still waiting downstairs.” His voice was smooth, annoyingly easy to listen to this early in the morning. Too easy.
“You sound oddly refreshed for 3 a.m.,” you quipped, your own voice still husky from sleep as you grabbed your suitcase.
“That’s the beauty of insomnia.” He shrugged, gesturing to his temples with a finger like it was some kind of genius life hack. “You can’t wake up tired if you never really sleep.”
The elevator dinged open, and the two of you stepped inside. The silence that settled was heavy, charged with something you couldn’t quite define. It hung there until you both spoke at once:
“So where are you—” “How did you—”
You broke into quiet laughter, and Drew’s mouth twitched with amusement. “You first,” he said, giving you a slight nod.
“How did you know I hadn’t already left with the others?” you asked, tilting your head curiously. For a moment, something flickered across his face—an emotion too quick to name—before a light blush dusted his cheeks. He masked it with an easy tone.
“I did some askin' around,” he replied, the answer short and almost vague. It was just enough to spark your teasing instincts.
“Ah,” you said with a smirk, “so you missed me?”
Instant regret settled within you. The elevator seemed too small, too still as Drew turned to look at you, his gaze steady and disarming. For a heartbeat, he didn’t respond, and your cheeks grew warm under his stare.
“You could say that,” he finally said, the ghost of a smirk curling the corner of his lips. His attention shifted to the elevator doors as they slid open, leaving you to wonder if you’d imagined the whole thing.
The ride to the airport was longer than expected thanks to roadwork that forced a detour. You should've been annoyed, but at some point, your head found its way to Drew’s shoulder, and your eyes fluttered shut. The fabric of his hoodie was soft against your temple, and his warmth lulled you into a half-dream state.
Drew didn’t dare move. The weight of your head against him was almost too perfect, and he fought the sudden urge to reach for your hand resting on your lap. Instead, he focused on the ticking clock in the back of his mind and the quiet hum of the car.
When you arrived, he sprang into action. “C’mon, we don’t have time to waste,” he murmured, grabbing your suitcase and his carry-on in one hand while ushering you toward the terminal with the other.
You barely had to lift a finger. Drew handled everything—tickets, baggage check, even navigating customs—with practiced efficiency, his jaw set and his movements quick. He wasn’t just organized; he was determined.
“Do you always walk as fast as a drill sergeant?” you teased as you reached the gate, breathing a little easier now.
He shot you a look, his lips twitching. “I'm not a huge fan of being late,” was all he said. But the way his eyes lingered on yours for half a second longer than necessary told you there was more to it than that.
Finally, you made it to your seats in first class. You settled across the aisle from Madelyn, who flashed you a bright smile.
“I was starting to think you two wouldn’t make it,” she teased, leaning toward you with a glint in her eye. There was an underlying subtext to her words but you were too tired to decipher it.
“Drew made sure that didn’t happen,” you replied with a soft laugh. The words were simple, but they carried a warmth you couldn’t quite suppress.
From behind your seat, Drew caught the sound of his name on your lips--and god did he love the way it sounds. He didn’t know what you’d said, but it didn’t matter. The fact that you were talking about him stirred something in his chest.
As the flight began, you glanced back once, meeting his gaze. He held it for a fraction of a moment before looking away, his expression unreadable.
And yet, for the rest of the flight, he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Couldn’t stop replaying the memory of the weight of your head on his shoulder—or wondering what it might feel like to hold your hand in his.
Taglist: @percysley, @lilithblackkk, @rafegf-real, @eternallovers65, @drsza, @wearemadeofstardust0, @cadhlabear, @thepopcultureaddict, @citr0us, @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account, @madi44444,
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thinking about aubree's jewelry and gritting my teeth realizing I'm reinventing the rosary
#she's worn a necklace with blue and amber beads since the beginning for good luck and protection from evil (lol. lmao.)#which I had as a total of seven beads for the seven heavens and seven gods of the halfling faith-- six amber and one blue#but I realized that's sort of awkward looking so probably it ought to be sections of seven amber beads separated by single blue beads#and you know while I'm at it it ALSO seems a bit awkward that the holy symbol she had custom made for urogalan would be on a separate chain#so why not have that be attached as a pendant to the string of beads..... and....... mm. hmm.#NOW. catholics do not hold a monopoly over prayer beads. and these aren't even for praying on they're more a talisman anyway#AND ALSO I do like rosaries actually I think they're neat and I like the concept of them#but my Catholic Friend is in this campaign and I don't want her getting ideas about it kdgjhkdfjgh#this is a more sensible and aesthetically pleasing redesign but it is gonna look very rosaryish lol#about me#my OCs#aubree
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one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.
the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.
like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.
but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.
so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.
i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?
but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?
sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?
and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.
nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.
the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!
and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.
#spilled ink#writeblr#i hope it is clear here that i actually very much care about equatorial countries#and that's part of what makes me so angry bc im like. climate refugees exist.#they've existed for a while!!!#and the reply is almost always ''should have thought about that before living on an island"#like fuck dude. do you need to like how people vote before ur like#your entire house shouldn't burn down each summer????#so many of these people make it their life to mock california that they think it's FUNNY#and im like. girl you should be fucking trembling. TEXAS??? ARE YOU LISTENING??#this is one of those times that like. i need to stress how fucking stupid it would be#to let trump win. bc he could have “reached across the aisle.” covid could have been#a MASSIVE commercial success. he has such a huge and bigoted and brainwashed following.#literally just a PR campaign called COWBOY UP and it's pictures of cowboys in bandanas#trump reinvisioned as the lone ranger fighting for the american people against covid. EASY SELL#and instead. companies bought him. it became political. it was not ''oh shit this is 1 enemy let's all be human''#it was ''you deserve to die.''#climate change should be GLOBAL. it should be like ''yeah i hate u but. we do all live here''#i don't have to LIKE my group members to do well on a team project bc we are ALL getting graded.#is that simple enough of an under-explaination lol
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Deny. Defend. Depose.
It is clear to those of us that live in America, the only people we truly have on our side are ourselves. The ruling class has made it clear we don't matter to them.
Luigi Mangione was arrested and happened to have every single piece of evidence on him that law enforcement was looking for, including the parts for the ghost gun, inside his backpack (that he also got rid of in Central Park containing the Monopoly money???). Either he was trying to get caught or that evidence was planted. And when he was being forcefully pushed into the jail, he hollered back to the press about "injustice" and "being an insult to the intelligence of American citizens and our lived experiences."
The people have now turned against corporate America and the CEOs and billionaires are fucking terrified. Nothing the news stations are saying to us are changing our minds. The American people have finally united over this issue and there is no going back for us. Whoever did kill Brian Thompson (and theories abound on the game The Adjuster is playing because no one plays Monopoly alone) exposed the very real divide that exists between every day citizens and the extremely wealthy. Things were easier for them to control when they were able to divide us, but now that we are aware of how uncertain our future is in America and seeing just how little we matter to the people who take our money, we have realized that we have more in common with each other than the people who control every aspect of our lives. We are waking up.
There isn't one person in this country who hasn't been a victim to the predatory scam that is private health insurance. Medical debt is the leading cause of bankruptcy in America, and many of us are one ambulance ride or hospital stay away from homelessness. We all know people who have died because the insurance company denied them the treatment they needed or waited until it was too late for an approval of a medical claim to matter anymore.
Recently, I decided to be tested for autism and ADHD. Not life-threatening or anything, but my life is still in shambles and I want to know if I'm going untreated for something else. Before being tested though, I was informed that the insurance company (Aetna) has said that they were going to cover the full cost of the testing I was having (which was six hours of testing by the way). She even made sure several times that they were, in fact, going to cover it in full and they said yes.
The same day that Brian Thompson, CEO of another horrible healthcare company, was murdered in broad daylight, I received a call from that doctor's office with the woman telling me that Aetna was now telling her they never agreed to cover my testing and that they are going to bill me for $1600 (where the hell am I supposed to get that?) and she is fighting them, but considering our lives don't matter to the people who tell us what healthcare we are and are not allowed to receive, I don't think they will feel compelled to change their minds because they are bloodsucking parasites who only care about lining their pockets while I don't even have $6 lying around, let alone $1600!!
Corporate America leeches off our taxes. They take and take and take and we see nothing in return. They raise prices on insurance coverage and then deny us the very coverage that we pay for. They poison our food, price gouge our poisoned food, and then force us to pay for the treatment we get when the food makes us sick. Corporate America profits off of our hard work, our taxes, our health, our lives, our deaths.
I don't know if this will reach a larger audience or not, but I wanted to talk about it on Tumblr because this platform seems to be a crossroads for every type of creative soul. I initially brought up this idea on TikTok earlier, but I want to see if it can get traction in other places as well since I have fewer than 3,000 followers on TikTok (and I have seen a small few express interest in my idea in the hours since I posted the video.)
We're busy being lectured by politicians and the news media because while they are clutching their pearls at what happened to Brian Thompson, the rest of us do not give one single flying fuck about what happened to him. As CEO of a for-profit health insurance company, he signed off on denied claims and death for those of us who struggle to make it from one day to the next. The sicker you are, the poorer you are, the more they force you to struggle and pay. The love to deny coverage because regardless of whether we live or die, they already have the money we are forced to pay them.
I don't condone murder at all, but I also don't care that he was murdered because he was guilty of murdering so many more people in this country through legal means because it's profitable. The CEOs are scared and there are wanted posters with their names and faces popping up in places. Every CEO of every healthcare company is guilty of murdering Americans and they continue to go unpunished for it because "it's just business".
So (if you've read this far) all of this previous rambling is to say that I keep thinking about how I want to make an impression. I want to continue upsetting the billionaires and the CEOs because corporate America is full of murderers who are legally allowed to decide whether we live or die based on which outcome will give them more money.
I have thought about the idea of creating a wall/constructing a wall somewhere as an art piece or something (making a statement) that will somehow honor the memory of people who died because insurance denied them care.
I know I definitely want it to say something along the lines of "In memory of those murdered by for-profit healthcare systems in corporate America". Something blatant. Loud. Something they are forced to look at every single day. Somehow. The wall could have images of those who are gone, or names of the person who died with the name of the insurance company responsible for their death underneath. Just something to make it clear that we see them for what they are. Something to avenge those who were sacrificed so billionaires and CEOS and shareholders could brag about record profits. Something that shows the whole world that American citizens are waking up to who the real monsters are.
The Adjuster (whoever he is or is not) has fanned the flames of revolution in America. He managed to unite us in a way I can't even recall before. It's not over. We know what happened to Brian Thompson was just the beginning, and corporate America only just now realized how much we actually hate them. A single shooter has sparked an awakening in America that is starting to snowball into something much bigger.
So if there is anyone out there who might be interested in collaborating on something like this, please let me know. I know we are all tired and demoralized and we have no money. I want to make a statement though, and I love doing that through art or writing. Collaborating with other people who have been through this same shit will also probably help us unite even more.
This is a watershed moment in American history.
In the words of Kanan Jarrus, Jedi Knight,
"There is a future for us. One where we're all free. But it's up to us to make it happen."
#united states of america#luigi mangione#brian thompson#corporate America is an enemy to the rest of us#united healthcare#aetna#health insurance#deny defend depose#class war#not left vs right but up vs down#project mayhem 2025#revolution is happening now#free luigi mangione#i've been struggling with how to make my voice heard or what kind of impression to leave#and i also really want to bully the 1%#two things i'm good at are being creative and being a petty ass bitch
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Okay Chetney's an ass (and I'm pretty sure Travis is playing that up deliberately), but he does kind of have a point about how some shit works in the real world.
We have the phenomenon of a lot of traditional craftsmanship dying out due to the lack of new talent.
We have businesses that short-staff and cut off services that still make money, but not as much as whatever the current big thing is.
And we have a lot of big art studios and game developers becoming stuck in a medium that isn't the best fit for every project because they redirected all their resources into one place.
And I'm wondering where this whole beat is going long-term because it sounds like there might be some relevant things to say about keeping all your tools sharp and your methods available, because you never know when the thing you left behind is going to be exactly the thing you need.
#On one hand he leaning *hard* into being a curmudgeon but on the other I think the frustrated ''you're going to need that later'' is valid#CR3#CR3-54#Not to mention that a lot of businesses love the strategy of ''strangle our competition and then become shitty once we have a monopoly''#and an effort to keep a variety of options available even when they're doing poorly is the best defense against that#even internally if you keep all your lines open even at just a minimum you can adapt when the big trend starts to fade#Would he have felt differently if the metal toys had been presented with a little more modesty and shared space?#I certainly don't know yet from where this pin is in the story#but that's the kind of question I'm asking right now
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⟡ ₊ . ༄.° postcards under the bed
pairing: dean winchester x reader synopsis: how dean became a part of reader's little family. tags/warnings: fluff, fwb, reader has custody of her 5yo niece wc: 1k a/n; your girl was craving fluff!!!
dean winchester masterlist ♡
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when you and dean first started going out, you knew that he was always traveling and never really stayed in one spot for too long, which was more than fine with you; you were too busy working and taking care of your niece for a proper relationship, anyway.
so, whenever the man came back to kansas and you managed to get a babysitter, the two of you would get tangled up in your bedsheets for a night. until things started changing.
what started as dean calling you up when he was back in town slowly turned into him texting you when he was gone, asking you how you were doing and telling you he couldn't wait to see you, coming over as soon as he was back in kansas.
what started as dean coming straight to your place and almost immediately taking you to bed slowly turned into pots and pans clanging in the kitchen as he cooked you dinner while you simply watched him with a glass of wine on your hand, the man telling you all about whatever monster him and his brother had been hunting while he made you his so-called specialty.
what started as dean leaving before you had even woken up slowly turned into waking up to his snores, spending lazy mornings tangled in each other's arms while the two of you talked about everything and nothing in hushed voices, exchanging small, nearly feather-light kisses.
he started bringing you postcards from all the places they'd travel to, the back of them filled with chicken scratches about what they were hunting, and although he always gave them to you in person, he made sure to write your name on the lines meant for your address with what was dean's attempt at cursive, the shoe box under your bed soon filled with postcards from different places.
neither of you called it what it was; when sam queried dean about where he'd disappear off to the moment they got back from their cases he'd mumble something about 'going to see someone', and when your friends wondered who was the guy picking you up from your girls' night in the black impala you'd just shrug and grin before making your way outside, straight into the arms of the man leaning against the car.
"i'm gonna have to cancel tonight." you said into your phone, using your shoulder to hold it up to your ear as you used your hands to decorate a bunch of cupcakes.
"what? aw, come on." dean's voice rang out, "i got popcorn and sour patch kids, and you finally agreed to watch terminator with me. are you bailing on me because of that? because if you really want to, we can watch one of your chick-flicks. again."
you let out a small laugh and rolled your eyes, a small smile now lingering on your lips, "it's not that. my sitter has a fever and had to cancel. so instead of our planned explicit date night i'm gonna be playing board games with aurora."
"ah, damn." dean sighed on the other line, "i really wanted to see you, sammy and i are probably gonna be back on the road tomorrow, we found some vamps up in duluth."
"i'm sorry." you say with your lips turned down in a slight frown, "let's take a raincheck, 'kay? i should go get rory, i finished decorating our cupcakes."
"oh? what cupcakes did you make?"
"red velvet. they're her favorite."
dean let out a small chuckle before humming, "hey, i was thinking... if it's not a girls-only night... maybe i could join you."
"really?" you raised your brows, "you wanna spend the evening playing monopoly with me and my niece rather than, i don't know, go to some bar and spend the evening with some hot chick?"
"i mean, you do have cupcakes. and board games are no fun with just two people."
you hummed, your lips pursed as you thought about his suggestion for a moment, before swallowing, "yeah. you can join."
after that evening, it seemed like things changed all over again.
dean no longer texted to ask you how you were, or to tell you how much he wanted to see you. he no longer cooked for you while you got to relax. you no longer woke up next to him. you didn't receive postcards addressed to you.
instead, he'd call you, checking in on you and aurora, saying how much he couldn't wait to see both of you again. he cooked for you while you were busy coloring with your niece. by the time you woke up, led zeppelin was blasting in the kitchen and the entire house smelled of pancakes, and when you got up, you'd see aurora dancing clumsily while dean was making pancakes. and the postcards were no longer addressed to you, but to you and aurora, and instead of ending up hidden under your bed, they were displayed on the fridge, until you no longer had enough magnets.
you were laid on dean's chest, your fingers drawing slight patterns on his skin, until his own hand came to stop you, bringing your hand to his warm lips, pressing a kiss on it.
"what are you thinking about?" he asked against your skin, and you looked up at him, wondering if you should tell dean what you were really thinking about or just brush him off. but the look in his eyes was reassuring, almost pleading you to tell him what was on your mind.
you took a deep breath before locking eyes with him, chewing on your lower lip, slightly anxious about what he was going to think.
"i don't think i can live without you."
dean's eyes widened slightly in surprise, before he let out a soft chuckle, the feeling of his breath on your hand causing shivers to run down your spine. he let go of your hand and moved his hand to your cheek, and you almost automatically brought your face closer to his.
"that's good, sweetheart, because i don't think i can live without you, either."
#꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱ dean#dean winchester#supernatural#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean x reader#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural x reader#jensen ackles
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Now that the post is over 10k and my notes are straight-up unusable...
One thing I wish I'd spelled out more explicitly in the original post because I see this point getting lost on a lot of rebloggers who don't understand why the healthcare thing was such a big deal is like
The subtext I thought would be understood bc I lived back then but apparently has been lost today is that making sure queer employees and their partners had healthcare in the early 90s meant Disney was paying for a lot of AIDS treatment.
This is one reason fundie Christians were so upset and queer employees were so grateful. It's one reason why it was such a controversial decision. It was a major talking point amongst my family, who believed back then that AIDS was a punishment from God.
(Some still do, I think. We don't talk.)
I keep seeing people saying that Disney only chose that option "because of their bottom line" and it's like??? Were you listening??? Disney has been paying for that decision for literally decades, but they've stood by it.
Like... the 90s weren't like now! It wasn't profitable to cater to the queer population of the country back then. They weren't raking in money with this.
It's in no way a perfect company but I fully believe in criticizing people for the specific things they do wrong and praising them for the specific things they do right. Disney has fucked copyright, monopoly, and labor laws and I'm not about to defend that. But they are well known in FL for being friendly to both queer people and disabled people, and that is unambiguously a good thing.
(Like side note, I could talk about Disney and accessibility for days. I have traveled extensively while disabled and no one does it like Disney.)
I've had people reblogging the post like "I straight-up don't believe Disney is an industry leader in equal protections for queer employees" and it's like ??? do you think I just pulled this out of my ass? If you want more information, go look it up! You'll see that this is well-established history. It's not my fault y'all don't read! :|
#I know I know#having a post go viral on tumblr is always a blessing and a curse#I'm happy that the word is getting out to so many people#I genuinely thought this history was more well-known than apparently it is#especially with younger users#but when your post starts doing numbers you have to start dealing with people who always wanna deal with ideas in bad faith#cw:#disney#homophobia#aids
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drabbles i found in my notes - instead of posting part two of the christmas thing i wrote 😖
simon riley x fem!reader
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you're on the couch, mindlessly watching a tv show when the front door unlocks. simon walks in, and you barely lift your hand to greet him. he'd gone for a run almost an hour ago, claiming he didn't want to waste a perfectly cloudy afternoon. you opted to stay under your warm blanket.
you hear rustling as he shuts the front door, and that's what draws your attention. takeout is your first thought, but you would've smelt it, and you already have leftovers from lunch.
lifting your head curiously, you only see simon's broad back in the kitchen table. you can't figure out what he's doing, but you're too lazy to get up and find out, and so you stay planted on the couch, head turned in a weird angle to catch a glimpse.
when he finally turns to face you, your mouth opens, surprised eyebrows rise in curiosity. there's a batch of lilies on your kitchen table and another colourful bouquet of flowers in his hand.
"brought you flowers," is all he says when he approaches the couch, sitting by your feet.
he offers, and you grab them, bringing them to inhale. "why?"
he shrugs. "were pretty, and i thought of ya."
-
taking riley out for a walk is one of your favourite things, especially when it's just snowed. she loves running around the snow as much as you do. simon just likes tagging along because the park right next to your flat is empty and peaceful.
she's an obedient girl, listening to her dad and not tugging at her leash while you're walking. but as soon as you arrive at the snowy park and unclip her leash, she becomes the devil of tazmania.
you play tag with her, running around the trees, bushes, and the small playground. simon opts to stay seated on a bench hidden under some trees and watch you, occasionally snapping pictures of you — particularly when riley trampled you to the ground.
he's paying attention to his phone when an idea lights up your eyes. the snowball hits him square in the face and you cheer, not even trying to hide the fact that you're the perpetrator (not that there was anyone else in this park, moreso in his vicinity).
simon's beanie and mask are covered in snow, as are his eyelashes. his glare is non-threatening, yet intimidating as fuck. you smile innocently, but it falters when he stands up at once.
"yur gonna pay for tha', love."
fifteen minutes later, you're returning home, your jacket, gloves, and lower body are soaked. you sport red nose and cheeks and a prominent scowl, while simon looks smug under his mask. riley is just happy to be there.
"c'mon rudolph, i'll warm ya right up when we get 'ome."
-
playing monopoly with simon and his buddies is the worst thing in the world. torture, really. they all cheat! yes, even captain price, although he thinks he hides it well by putting on his thinking face.
kyle and johnny sit on the other side of your coffee table, price sits on the loveseat and simon next to you, peaning back against the couch. he has a huge arm over your shoulders, playing with the hem of your shirt every time you get upset with their shenanigans.
"come on, garrick! i'm not fucking stupid - you said a hundred and twenty the last time i came around. now you say it's a hundred and eighty, like i won't notice!"
"i'm not cheating! you're just hard if hearing!"
your eyes widen, mouth drops in shock.
"ha!" exclaims johnny with a laugh.
you point at him. "you should not even be in the game - you went bankrupt like three times!"
"uh, 'scuse me, bonnie, but as you can see i have money right here." he points on the spot in front of him. he has barely enough to last him a round.
"that's because price has been sneaking money to you. i'm not blind! simon, back me up!"
he takes a drag of his cigarette and shrugs, barely able to conceal a smile at your flushed cheeks. your jaw drops, again. that fucker is in on it.
"you dick! you're letting him rob the bank! you are the bank! ugh." your head falls on the table with a thud.
you hear price chuckle.
"you're all terrible," you mumble.
"you'll live," replies kyle.
you're stubborn enough to finish the game and be at least not the first person to lose. johnny ends up losing after you catch price red-handed giving him the money - you turned to sip on your drink for one second. simon is the next to go, but you end up losing to kyle. you shake hands, promising threatening to play again next time you visit his house.
#these were buried separately in the notes app lollll#simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley fluff#cod x reader#established relationship#fluff#john price#johnny mactavish#kyle garrick#naewrites
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=> Pearl: Continue snooping
Cleo: So what now? Where do you think Scar and the Gremlins have gone?
Cleo: Oh, and Pearl and... seriously, Martyn as well?
Cleo: god, some people never learn
Scott: yeaaah
Scott: Hmm
Scott: This entire forest is pretty walled off on both sides, so I reckon they went either straight ahead from their portal or backwards...
Cleo: So it's a coin toss?
Cleo: Oh I don't like our chances of beating them to the Enchanter then, Scott
Scott: It was a coin toss for them too! They might not even be going the right way.
Cleo: Sure hope so. I am not looking forward to another season of Enchanter monopoly.
Scott: Are we good on wood?
Cleo: Almost!
Cleo: If you're bored, how about you find us some hoglins to make into porkchops?
Scott: Nah I'd rather not die, thank you very much~
Scott: Besides, I'm bringing pretty much our entire food supply.
Cleo: Ha! So you've left them with nothing?
Scott: They're big boys, Cleo, and they've got sheep. I'm sure they can figure it out.
Cleo: Wish I could have that much faith in people.
=====>
Start Over -- Go Back
#quadruple life#life smp fan session#pearl pov#pearlescentmoon#smajor1995#zombie cleo#fun fact: the next update is going to be decided by a literal coin toss#mod zhuk
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School Bus Graveyard incorrect quotes because I'm bored
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o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
Taylor: Look how creepy it is looking down this hallway.
Ashlyn: I'm gonna get vertigo.
Aiden: I'm a Virgo!
Tyler, deadpan: No, you're a virgin.
...
Aiden: You lying, cheating, piece of shit!
Tyler: Oh yeah? You’re the idiot who thinks you can get away with everything you do. WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD
Aiden: I’m leaving you, and I’M TAKING ASHLYN WITH ME
Logan, picking up the monopoly board: I think we’re gonna stop playing now.
...
Taylor: Why is Tyler so upset?
Logan: He took one of those “Which Character Are You?” quizzes
Taylor: And...?
Logan: He got Aiden.
...
Ashlyn: What did you do with the phantom's body?
Aiden: What didn’t I do with the body?
Everyone:
Aiden: Okay, that sounded more sexual than I intended. I disposed of the phantom respectfully.
...
Aiden: Here’s a fun Christmas idea. We hang mistletoe, but instead of kissing, you have to FIGHT whoever else is under it.
Logan: Aiden, no.
Ben, with text to speech: Mistlefoe.
Logan: Please stop encouraging him.
...
Taylor: Who thinks I can fit 15 marshmallows in my mouth?
Tyler: You’re a hazard to society
Aiden: And a coward. DO TWENTY.
...
Emma, trying to be nice to Ashlyn's new friends: Would you like to stay for dinner?
Mike, excited for his daughter: WOULD YOU LIKE TO STAY FOREVER?
...
Logan: What's a word thats a mix between 'sad' and 'mad'?
Ben: Disgruntled, miserable, desolated-
Aiden: Smad.
...
Ashlyn: Why are you on the floor?
Aiden: I'm depressed.
Aiden: Also I was stabbed, can you get Ben, please.
...
Taylor: Aiden and I were crossing the street, and this dude drove by and honked at us
Ashlyn, sighing: What did he do?
Taylor: he chased him to the next red light, then reached into his window and...
Aiden: Who wants a steering wheel?
...
Aiden: If I accidentally sat on a voodoo doll of myself, would I be trapped forever in that position, doomed to starve to death?
Logan: How am I supposed to know?
Tyler: You say that as if we don’t use you as a source of knowledge of the occult.
Logan: ...You wouldn't be trapped.
...
Ashlyn: Tyler, keep an eye on Aiden today. He's going to say something to the wrong person and get punched.
Tyler: Sure, I’d love to see him get punched.
Ashlyn: Try again.
Tyler, sighing: I will stop Aiden from getting punched.
...
Aiden, holding a python: Guys I impulsively bought a snake, what do I name him
Tyler: You did WHAT–
Ben: William Snakespeare
...
Ashlyn: Dandelions symbolize everything I want to be in life
Taylor: Fluffy and dead with a gust of wind?
Ashlyn: Unapologetic. Hard to kill. Feral, filled with sunlight, bright, beautiful in a way that the conventional and controlling hate but cannot ever fully destroy. Stubborn. Happy. Bastardous. Friends with bees. Highly disapproving of lawns. Full of wishes that will be carried far after I die.
Aiden: edible
...
Taylor, whispering to Aiden, who’s on the phone with Ashlyn: Ask her something!
Aiden: How are you feeling?
Ashlyn: Fine.
Taylor: Something personal!
Aiden: At what age did you start hearing voices?
...
Aiden: If I die, my funeral is going to be the biggest party ever and you’re all invited
Logan: If?
Tyler: Great, the only party I’d actually go to and he might not even die.
...
Logan: We need a distraction.
Ashlyn: Is anyone here good at jumping up and down and making weird noises?
Aiden, whispering: My time has come
...
Tyler: Where are you going?
Taylor: To get ice cream or commit a felony, I’ll decide on the way there
Tyler: I'll come with
...
Mike, buying a whole bag of knives, guns and other weapons like he's going to war on a random Tuesday: I can explain
Jacob (shop owner): Can you?
Mike: If you give me thirty seconds to think of a lie.
...
Taylor: Heads up, if you try to make a candle with food colouring, it will just sink to the bottom of the glass, and when the flame eventually reaches the bottom all the food colouring will catch fire and become one giant tall flame that you cannot possibly blow out and the glass will start to crack and then you'll throw your tea on it in a panic and then the extremely hot food colouring will boil and sizzle horribly and then the glass will shatter.
Tyler, sighing: What did you do?
Taylor, wailing: A MISTAKE
...
Mr. Thomas: What are your goals?
Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs.
Mr. Thomas: No, I meant your goals for this trip.
Ashlyn: To pet all the dogs in Savannah.
...
Logan: Is letting someone win at chess sapiosexual bottoming?
Ashlyn: Does anyone in this godforsaken group ever think before they speak?
...
Taylor: Aiden isn’t answering their phone
Ashlyn: I’ll call
Taylor: Ben and I have both tried six times each, what makes you thi-
Aiden: Hello?
...
Aiden: I was arrested for being too cool.
Tyler: The charges were dropped due to a lack of supporting evidence.
...
Aiden: Jail is no fun. I’ll tell you that much
Taylor: You’ve been to jail?
Aiden: Once. In Monopoly.
...
Mike: You love me, right?
Emma: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.
...
Aiden: Let’s watch Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
Ashlyn: Okay
Aiden: And make out during the scary parts.
Ashlyn: The-
Ashlyn: The scary parts?
Ashlyn: Of Sharkboy and Lavagirl.
...
Ashlyn: How petty can you get?
Tyler: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.
Taylor: I KNEW IT-
...
Aiden: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them.
Logan: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.
...
Mike: So what’s for dinner?
Emma, staring at the food she just burnt: Regret.
o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o
That's all for today!
#school bus graveyard#school bus graveyard webtoon#sbg#sbg (webtoon)#ashlyn banner#aiden clark#ben clark#taylor hernandez#tyler hernandez#logan fields#mike banner#emma banner#i love those two so much#incorrect quotes#sbg incorrect quotes#incorrect sbg quotes#aidlyn#ashden
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