#IT'S SO DUMB but it makes me laugh and I feel like I am this blog's primary readership

[v6quewrlds]

❝ know no better, m. barzal. ❞  ‎ ‎ ┉  

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀summary: with your work responsibilities taking you away from long island, you and mat haven't had much time to blow off some steam. his friends, however, are tired of being on the receiving end of mat's "steam" and enlist you to help.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: about half way through the nnn series! i am a diva!mat truther so enjoy. day five of my no nut november series.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀warnings: smut, please do not interact with my work if you are under 18. language, established relationship, oral (male receiving), mat’s a lil grump.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀pairing: mathew barzal x reader.

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 2.4k.

You looked up from your laptop, your eyes scanning the crowded airport lounge. The clacking of keyboards and murmur of distant conversations created a familiar backdrop to your focused silence. You sighed, your fingers hovering over the keyboard as you awaited your flight's boarding call. Your phone buzzed, and you picked it up, expecting to see a message from work reminding you of the deadlines that had kept you in Boston for nearly a month. Instead, you found a text from Ethan Bear.

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise. You hadn't spoken to Ethan in ages, not since the last time you and Mat had seen him over the summer. 

The message was simple: "Hey, noticed Mat's been on edge lately?" 

You read it again, a hint of confusion creasing your forehead. Of course, you had noticed. Mat's mood swings were like the tides, but you had just chalked it up to the pressure of his season and your demanding work schedule pushing distance between the two of you. 

You typed back, "He makes it hard not to lol he's prob just stressed with the season. Why?"

Ethan's response was swift and to the point. "It's that dumb No Nut November bet. He's losing his shit like a little bitch. Can you fix him?" 

You couldn't help but laugh out loud at the absurdity of it all. Mat, your six-foot hockey player of a boyfriend, reduced to a grumpy mess over a bet? It was almost endearing in its ridiculousness. But Ethan's concern was clear, and you knew you couldn't ignore it. 

You replied, "I'll see what I can do," with a winking emoji, feeling less than guilty for the amusement that bubbled up inside you.

As you boarded the plane, you couldn't shake the image of Mat, all six feet of brooding masculinity, brought to his knees by his own stubbornness. You chuckled to yourself, imagining the look on his face when you told him you knew about the bet. The flight back to Long Island was a blur of work emails and half-hearted attempts at relaxing, your mind racing with ideas to tease him into dropping this absurd challenge.

When you finally stepped into your apartment, the tension hit you like a wall. Mat's heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway, and you could hear him muttering under his breath. You set down your bag and called out, "Honey, I'm home!" with a playful lilt in your voice.

Mat appeared around the corner, his eyes flashing with a mix of relief and annoyance. "Fucking finally," he grumbled, the corners of his mouth twitching slightly in an attempt to suppress a smile.

You rolled your eyes, your amusement clear. "What crawled up your ass?" You stepped closer to him, your eyes sparkling with mischief.

Mat sighed, running a hand through his thick, dark hair. "You wouldn't understand."

You stepped closer, your curiosity piqued. "Try me."

Mat rolled his eyes, his frustration palpable. "It's just this stupid bet with the guys. I can't believe how much it's messing with my head."

Your smile grew. "Oh, the No Nut November bet? That's what's got you all worked up?" You couldn't resist poking the bear. "You know you can just tell them you can't do it, right?"

Mat's jaw clenched, and he glared at you. "It's not that simple. My pride's on the line."

You chuckled, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "Okay, tough guy," you said, your voice gentle and teasing. "But if it's really bothering you, maybe you should just, I don't know, not do it?"

Mat's eyes searched yours for a moment, and you could see the conflict in his gaze. He was torn between his pride and his desire to end the torment. You decided to take matters into your own hands. You leaned in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. "I have an idea," you murmured against his skin. "How about I help you relieve some of that tension?"

His eyes widened, and you knew you had his attention. "How?" he asked, his voice gruff with hope.

You stepped closer, your hands sliding down to his chest, your thumbs tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. "How about I give you a little something to take your mind off of it?" you suggested, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You saw the spark of interest in his eyes and knew you had him in your grasp.

Mat's expression softened slightly, his eyes flickering with curiosity and a hint of desperation. "What are you thinking?" he asked, his tone cautious.

You smirked. "I could give you a reason to lose the bet?" you offered, your voice laced with playful challenge. You watched as the realization dawned on him, and his eyes grew dark with need.

"Did someone set you up to this?" he asked, his voice thick with suspicion, trying to hide his growing excitement.

"Let's just say I have my ways of finding things out," you replied with a wink. You could feel the tension in the room start to ease as Mat's curiosity took over.

Mat looked at you skeptically. "Alright. But if you're just messing with me..."

You giggled, standing on your tiptoe to whisper in his ear, "I'm not messing with you, baby." Your breath was warm and sweet, sending a shiver down his spine. "I want to help."

Mat stared at you for a moment, trying to gauge your seriousness. He was desperate for relief, and the thought of losing the bet was becoming increasingly more appealing by the second. With a huff, he stepped back, his arms crossing over his broad chest. "Okay, fine. What do you have in mind?"

You took a step closer, your eyes never leaving his. "Well, I was thinking..." you trailed off, your hands moving to the hem of his shirt, "maybe I could help you relax." You began to lift his shirt, your hands gliding over his abs, your manicured nails lightly scraping against his skin. "You know, just a little something to take the edge off."

Mat's resolve was crumbling. The feel of your hands on him was too tempting to resist. He let out a gruff chuckle, trying to maintain his tough exterior. "You're really going to do this?"

Your smile grew mischievous as you continued to lift his shirt, exposing his toned stomach. "Mmhmm," you hummed, your eyes flicking up to meet his. "I think it's only fair that if you're going to be a grumpy mess, I get to enjoy the perks of helping you out."

Mat's arms fell to his sides, his eyes locked on yours as you continued to explore his torso with your fingertips. "And what perks would those be?" he asked, his voice low and gruff with anticipation.

Your smile was sly. "Well," you said, your thumbs grazing the waistband of his sweatpants, "I was thinking I could give you a nice, long, slow release."

Mat's eyes darkened, and he took a sharp intake of breath. "Fuck it," he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. He leaned in, capturing your mouth in a fiery kiss that sent shockwaves through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair as you gave in to the passion you had been craving for weeks.

The two of you stumbled into the bedroom, the door slamming shut behind you. You pushed him down onto the bed, your body straddling him. You could feel his heart racing under you, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You took a moment to appreciate the sight of him, his muscles taut and his eyes filled with a desperate need that made your own pulse quicken.

Mat's hands found the zipper of your jacket, his fingers fumbling with the fabric as he tried to get it off of you. You laughed and helped him, shrugging out of the jacket and tossing it aside. You leaned in again, your mouth tracing a line of kisses down his neck and chest, feeling his body respond to your touch. His breathing grew ragged, and you knew you had him exactly where you wanted him.

As you kissed down his body, you felt the tension in Mat's muscles start to unwind. You could feel the heat radiating from him, and you knew that you were winning the battle against his pride. With a knowing smile, you began to undo the drawstring of his shorts, your eyes focused on his.

"Missed this pretty, perfect dick," you murmured against the fabric of Mat's shorts, your voice muffled and playful. Mat's body tensed in anticipation as you slowly pulled them down, revealing him to your gaze. You took a moment to admire him, your eyes sparkling with a mix of humor and desire.

Mat groaned, his hands gripping the bed sheets. "You're evil, you know that?"

Your eyes gleamed with victory. "Only when it's for your own good," you teased, your fingertips brushing against his arousal. You watched his reaction, his eyes rolling back slightly, raven hair beautifully contrasting the crisp white sheets.

Mat's hand reached up to tug at your hair, urging you closer. "Just do it," he begged, his voice a mix of frustration and need.

You chuckled, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Pushy," you said, your voice low and soothing. You leaned down, your warm breath fanning across his skin. Mat shivered as you pressed a kiss to the tip, your lips curling into a smug smile at his gasp. You took your time, teasing him with feather-light kisses and gentle strokes, your tongue swirling around the head of his cock.

Mat's eyes were squeezed shut, his teeth grinding together. "Baby," he ground out, his voice a desperate plea. You conceded and took him into your mouth, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring his taste and the sound of his moans. His hips bucked upwards, and you held him down with a firm hand, keeping the pace at a torturous crawl.

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, watching the myriad of emotions playing across his face: surprise, pleasure, and a hint of embarrassment at his loss of control. You took him deeper, your cheeks hollowing as you sucked gently, and he swore, his hands fisting in the sheets. The salty tang of his sweat mingled with the faint scent of his cologne, and you felt a thrill of power knowing you could bring this strong, confident man to the brink of madness with just your mouth.

Mat's thighs tensed beneath you as you increased your pace, your hand pumping in time with your mouth. His breath grew ragged, his body trembling with the effort to hold back. You took him deeper still, your throat tightening around him, the sensation of his impending climax thrumming through your body.

"Shit," Mat groaned, his voice tight with need. "C’mon, babe, I can't..."

You released him slowly. "You can't what, baby?" you whispered, your voice like velvet against his sensitive skin.

His eyes flew open, and he stared at you, desperation warring with the need to maintain his pride. "I'm gonna come, baby," he warned, his voice strained.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes gleaming. "Mmm, I know," you said, your voice a sweet taunt. With a devilish smile you held his gaze as you stuck your tongue out, a line of saliva connecting your mouth to his glistening cock. Mat's hips jerked upwards involuntarily, his eyes widening with shock and pleasure.

"You're gonna lose that bet," you whispered, your breath warm against his sensitive skin. Mat's jaw clenched, and he nodded, the fight draining out of him. His hand reached for you, guiding you back down to him. "Good boy," you murmured, your mouth enveloping him again.

Mat's hips began to thrust slightly, his movements growing more urgent. You felt a rush of wetness between your legs, your own desire spiking at the sound of his desperate moans. You tightened your grip, your tongue swiping against the underside of his shaft. His hips bucked harder. With one last, deep suck, you felt him pulse in your mouth, the warmth of his release flooding your mouth.

Mat's body went rigid as he came, his breath hitching in his throat. You swallowed, your eyes never leaving his. You licked your lips, savoring the taste of him, and gave his cock one last gentle kiss before sitting back on your heels. You watched him, his chest heaving and eyes glazed over with pleasure.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by your ragged breathing. Then Mat's face contorted into a mix of frustration and relief. "Fuck," he muttered, collapsing back onto the bed. "How bad was I?"

You grinned, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Oh, you were pretty bad," you teased, your voice light and playful. "Ethan texted me about it. Said you were being a little bitch."

Mat's face reddened as he buried his face in a pillow, muffling his groan of embarrassment. You couldn't help but laugh, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "It's okay," you said, your voice gentle. "You're my little bitch."

Mat threw the pillow at you, his laughter joining yours. "Fuck off," he said, his voice muffled by the fabric.

You caught the pillow and tossed it aside, your smile widening. "It's all love, baby," you said, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "But seriously, you okay?"

Mat took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah, I'm good." He sat up, running a hand through his hair. "I just didn't know it would get to me like this."

Your expression softened, and you cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the stubble that had started to form. "No more dumb bets?" you asked, your voice a gentle reprimand.

Mat sighed, his eyes meeting yours with a hint of vulnerability. "No more dumb bets," he agreed, his voice gruff. He leaned into your touch, his eyes closing briefly. "I'm sorry for being such an asshole."

Your smile was warm, your thumb continuing to stroke his cheek. "You should probably apologize to Ethan. Whatever you did to him, it's gotta be bad if he's asking for my help."

Mat chuckled, his irritation fading. "I'll text him later, tell him you talked some sense into me." He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist. "Thank you, baby." He kissed you, the affection in his touch making your heart flutter.

[ccazimi]

Hiyahh saw that u said ur reqs are open my idea is pretty simple tbh but maybe could ya write sum abt sukuna lets reader bleach his hair to re-dye it but ends up failing horribly so he has to shave off his hair n he's js acting like a soggy cat 🫡

sorry if this didn't hit the mark! new to this haha

"I'm going to fucking kill you, woman."

You pouted from where you stood behind Sukuna as he scowled at his reflection in the mirror.

"Hey, it's not that bad..." You started nervously, trying to alleviate the situation you had created.

"Not that bad?!" Sukuna angrily interjected before you could even finish your sentence. "My head looks like an overused toothbrush."

And with uneven splotches of yellow, orange and white with short stiff strands that sat like straw after being freshly dried, the comparison was actually quite accurate. Accurate enough that you had to look away with a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle.

"Are you laughing? Is you fucking up my hair funny to you?" He grit his teeth, irritation only growing at your tittering.

"No!" You squeaked, before stepping up to where he stood by the sink counter. "Is it really that fucked up?"

He watched you from the corners of his eyes as you lifted your hands to gently grasp a small tuft of hair sticking out. It was dry and brittle as though someone had air fried it for a bit too long. You tested its flexibility by bending it in your fingers and it gave way with a soft crunch leaving you staring at the dead hair between your fingers, and Sukuna stiffening even more. "Oh."

"Oh? Oh? Is that all you have to say for yourself?" You could practically see the steam exiting Sukuna's ears. "Give me that." He snatched the fossil of his once beautiful salmon colored hair that you'd collected and inspected it for himself. "How'd you even mess it up that bad? Were you using industrial bleach or something?"

"I don't know, I just used the old bottle of bleach I found under the sink." You mumbled. "The 'forty' brand."

"Forty?"

"It had the number forty on it."

He spun around at looked down at you incredulously, making you furrow your brows. "What, is that a bad brand or something?"

He brought his palm to his face, closing his eyes as another growl escaped his throat. "That wasn't the name of the brand, you idiot. 'Forty' is the level of the bleach"

You kept your mouth shut as he seemed to only become more livid.

"They come in volumes from weakest to strongest: ten, twenty, thirty, and forty."

He opened his eyes to glare down at you, leaving you to marinate in your guilt and feeling dumb as hell. "I'm sorry, Sukuna. Listen, I'll pay for you to get it fixed at the salon-"

He dismissed your attempts at reparation with a wave of his hand, holding up the tuft of broken hair up to your face. "You see this? There's nothing any professional can do when your hair is fucked this bad. I'm going to have to buzz it."

He watched you drop your gaze trying to hide the growing pout on your lips. Honestly, you'd really liked his hair too.

With an exasperated sigh he decided to take pity on you, trying to make you feel better in his own way. "Its fine, I'll just shave it so that it grows back fresh. Also I am never letting you near my hair again."

"Do you need any help buzzing it?"

He shot you a death glare that had you scrambling to exit the bathroom as quickly as possible.

You were laying on the couch, reading a book with Yuuji curled up on your lap when you heard the door to the bathroom open. The last few minutes were marked by the buzzing of an electric razor and you snapped your head up as Sukuna finally revealed himself to you.

He stared at you silently with his arms crossed, waiting for your commentary. "Well?"

Your first thought was that he reminded you of a lion that had its majestic mane shaven off - more so due to his demeanor rather than his appearance.

As for his appearance...

"You know I actually like the look." You said with a genuine smile. His chiseled features and sharp inky tattoos gave his face enough structure that he could actually pull off the buzzed look.

He deadpanned you, clearly skeptical of your approval.

"Look Yuuji, doesn't he look handsome?" You scratched the golden retriever's ears, prompting him to look up. Although Sukuna supposedly didn't like the puppy, Yuuji absolutely adored Sukuna from the moment he'd met him and would routinely piss himself in excitement whenever Sukuna would visit (much to Sukuna's disgust).

But Yuuji caught sight of Sukuna and growled, before laying his head back down.

You might have never seen Sukuna look so genuinely offended in his life.

"Don't mind him, he probably just needs to get a little used to your...new look." You tried to reassure Sukuna, but could barely contain your laughter at what a dirty scowl he was giving the dog.

"Let's go out for dinner tonight."

"No."

You sighed, dramatically throwing yourself on Sukuna's lap where he sat on the couch snacking on chicken katsu. "Come on, how long are you gonna keep sulking over this?"

He grabbed a pillow to throw it over your face and kept eating. "I am not sulking." He grumbled.

You fought against the pillow, finally managing to get it off and grin cheekily up at him. "You so are. Seriously, it doesn't look bad."

For the past few days Sukuna had refused to go outside, slinking around the apartment like a wet cat. His pride, his joy, his beautiful hair that he normally only trusted with high end salons had fallen at your hands, and he refused to let it go.

"Look even Yuuji's warmed up to you again."

Upon hearing his name, Yuuji got up from where he was slobbering on a chew toy and nosed Sukuna's ankle, tail wagging back and forth like a propeller. Your dog wasn't the smartest and it took him a little to be convinced that Sukuna was still his grumpy self and not some hairless replacement.

"Tsk. I don't care about your rat dog - in fact i'd rather have it not be all over me."

You chose to not mention it, knowing damn well Sukuna had perked up if even a bit when Yuuji went back to fawning over him. Instead you sat up, cozying yourself on Sukuna's lap in that way that you knew would always grab his attention.

"I'm seriously sorry I messed up your hair, okay? And you know I find you sexy with or without your pretty hair. So lets go out so I can show off to everyone how attractive my boyfriend is." You teased him on purpose, knowing that his ego would take some coddling while his hair grew back.

He rolled his eyes but you knew you were getting somewhere when he set his food down to snake his hands around your waist. "Fine. But only if we get sashimi."

"Yes!" You chirped. "Sounds good to me." You raised a hand to pet his head but he caught your wrist before you could feel his buzzed scalp under your fingertips.

"You're still not allowed to touch my hair, though."

[midnightmischief10]

welp. i'm posting this unedited and EXTREMELY self indulgent pedro pascal x reader fic. i have more written, but i will only post the full thing if ppl are also as sick and twisted as me.

hope who ever reads this, feels a little more seen bc i am SICK (well not really HHAHAH) of all the pedro character ddlg fics!! i just wanted to write something more realistic? idk welp, here it is! (not in its entirety:P )

Si no te hubieras ido

pairings: Pedro Pascal x Reader

warnings: age gap, drinking, reader is in their 20s

getting to work on a set like The Mandalorian was a dream if you were being honest. no, you weren't some high end actor, or a famous director, just someone part of the production crew, doing things like planning, writing, hell even editing. you'd do anything to just be a part of a project like this.

interactions with the actors were also common in a job like this, but apart from just guiding them through certain scenes and how they should look, you really didn't cross the boundaries that weren't professional. It was really nice to admire them though. Getting the occasional chat with big shot superstars was so cool and always something to brag about to your family even though they weren't supportive of your career choice. You didn’t end up a doctor or lawyer like they wanted, but hey! You did something you loved.

It was honestly a very normal day in the workplace. You were working in the art department as usual, helping make sure the vision that the director wanted was really coming through. Being behind the scenes for such big projects like these was really something. Your admiration for the process really grew getting to do all the behind the scenes work, it was such a nice feeling seeing the thing you along with many others, worked so hard on being televised was something special.

You weren't the overly ambitious type, but the thought of directing something sounded really cool.

You continued on, designing what the director wanted on a few scenes we’d be working on in the following weeks.

Lost in your work you didn’t expect anyone to come up to you for anything, you weren't the art director so it wasn't usual for people to come to you. Unbeknownst to you, you felt a sudden hand on your arm, not roughly just to get your attention.

you look up and woah…why the hell was Pedro Pascal standing right behind you.

"uhm, I'm sorry to bother you, you seem busy, but I've been meaning to ask, would you like to go out for a drink sometime?" Pedro asked.

huh? what…the…fuck…?

it caught you off guard.

Firstly, why was Pedro Pascal even looking for you? Because I mean you? of all people he could ask something like that, it was you? A man notorious for not having any sort of relationship, at least not public, was standing here with you asking you to go out for a drink.

you didn’t even think about your response before the words fell from your mouth.

"oh..uhm…Is this some kind of prank?"

you dumb BITCH WHY WOULD U SAY THAT???

was what you thought immediately after.

In your defense, you were in disbelief because what the hell was Pedro Pascal, a very prominent and influential actor, asking you out for drinks? I mean the interactions you both have had were merely professional and work related so why?

he looked confused at your answer, maybe even a little insulted, which was not your intention.

"shit I'm sorry I didn't mean to sound rude I'm just in a bit of disbelief" you let out an awkward laugh to soften the previous response and got out of your seat to face him properly. how do you even respond to a question like that, you had no idea that's for certain.

He stared softly at you and started, "no I'm sorry, that was very sudden haha. no need to say yes I just wanted to see if you would." His response was genuine and he wore a soft smile as he did.

God, was he really handsome up close.

To be quite honest, you always found him super attractive. But he was the internet’s daddy so it wasn't just you who felt attraction towards him. And sure, you might've dabbled in the idea of maybe even going out with him, but you were realistic with yourself.

But here you are now. Getting asked out on a date with this hunk of a man.

You were still lost in thought, trying to reflect on what was occurring and what came out of Pedro’s mouth.

He spoke again, "Sorry, just forget it ev-"

"no no, I mean I'd love to, who wouldn't want to go out for drinks with you, I'm just not all that special ya know?" you were being honest. You weren't some super sexy model or a renowned actor, you were just some girl working on the same set as Pedro.

Also, you were much younger than Pedro.

"I'd beg to differ." he said quite frankly. He smiled that sweet and tender smile of his and you couldn't help but think, for an older man he was sure fine.

you were daydreaming again at this point when Pedro spoke again,"so...is that a yes then?" it snapped you back to reality. It was so odd to see him so nervous over something like this, but being in the know of most things Hollywood, everyone who knew Pedro also knew that he had social anxiety so it must've taken a lot out of him to even ask you out

your heart raced, “yea- yes, I'll go for a drink with you.” you smiled, but if you were being honest you were really nervous too. What exactly did he see in you? Sure you were kind and respectful, but that's how you were with everyone. Pedro felt way out of your league to even grasp the idea of flirting with him, I mean come on. Who would even think about flirting with an A-list celebrity, especially someone way way WAY younger than he was and someone who wasn’t on any level to him.

he had a huge smile on his face, he seemed so content. “Great, should I get your number while I’m at it?” He pulled out his phone and handed it to you. You slightly grazed his hand when he did and it caught you by surprise.

His hands were so big, and you didn’t realize till just then how much of a height difference you two had.

You put your name and number, your hands were trembling a bit as you did so.

“here you go. so…when should I expect that drink?” you tried being coy to play off the fact that you were actually freaking out.

he smiled and laughed, “what about tonight then?”

that was quick

“oh. uhm yeah sure, i get off at 5, would like 8 be okay.”

“Sounds perfect. I’ll pick you up, wear something nice.”

“Do I not look nice now?” you said sarcastically.

“No no, you always look great, I’d just like to see you in a dress.” He looked at you with so much love, his sweet smile still plastered hard on his face.

You couldn’t help but blush hard.

Has he always looked at me?

“I’ll send you my address then, see you tonight.”

“See you tonight.” and he stepped out.

what the fuck were you getting into

~~~~~~~

[sunsetsandsunshine]

REQUEEEEEEEESTS LETS GOOOOOOOOO-wow I am nervous lols

Can I request mutant mayhem with Lee!Leo and Ler!April, please? (If ur wondering I am in fact that one anon that sent that long add-on idea I had spinning in my head after reading your MM Lee!Leo, Ler!Raph fic, hello! Glad you liked my ramblings ^^) no pressure if you don't feel like it tho!!

~ 𝙶𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚒𝚕! ~

💛💙 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: 𝙰𝚗𝚘𝚗 ����𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚎 💛💙

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝙷𝙷𝙷𝙷 𝙽𝙾𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙴 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴’𝚂 𝙽𝙾 𝙽𝙴𝙴𝙳 𝚃𝙾 𝙱𝙴 𝙽𝙴𝚁𝚅𝙾𝚄𝚂, 𝙱𝚁𝙾 🥹🫶🏾💖!!! 𝚆𝚎’𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚊𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 🕺🏾✨💕! 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚊𝚜 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚜 𝙸 𝚜𝚊𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚜𝚔, 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚜𝚖𝚒𝚍𝚐𝚎 𝚐𝚞𝚝 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚎’𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚎𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸’𝚖 𝚜𝚘 𝚐𝚕𝚊𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚌𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 💝! 𝚈𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚘𝚗 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊𝚋𝚜𝚘𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚂𝚃𝚄𝙽𝙽𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚖 🫨💘! 𝙵𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎— 𝙸 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎’𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚜 🤩💓˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟷𝟹𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 👩🏾‍🦱💛

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚙𝚊𝚒𝚛 𝚞𝚙 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚎𝚊𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚊 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚒𝚝𝚢. 𝙽𝚘𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚞𝚗, 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 (𝚘𝚋𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚕𝚢). 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚙𝚘𝚙’𝚜 𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚛𝚎𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙱𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚜 𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚛𝚢.

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝙵𝚘𝚛 𝙻𝚎𝚘 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚕, 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚋𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚌 𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌— 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚘𝚛 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎. 𝙹𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚝𝚠𝚘. 𝙱𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

T𝚊𝚐𝚐𝚐𝚜𝚜𝚜𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348  @itzsana-kiddingmenow 

@saturnzskyzz  @giggly-cloud  @savemeafruitjuice 

@rice-cake-teen10 @titters-and-tingles @veryblushyswitch

@tmntalways @pocky-dragon @jamiesgotchu @my-l0v3r-v3rse

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚃𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚒𝚗 𝚜𝚌𝚑𝚘𝚘𝚕 (𝚎𝚠.) 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚍𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚑 𝚓𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚜. 𝙸𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚚𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚎 𝚞𝚙 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢, 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 😌🫶🏾!

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢!!!˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

School is what you make of it.

It could be absolute hell wrapped in a box to make it seem entertaining, or it could be a box full of oppurtunities and dreams awaiting you…but end up being hell either way. Do with that information as you will. 

And for April right now? School was definetly becoming a living hell…more than it already was anyway. 

It was near the end of school. Like— the very last week of school. The students have cleaned their lockers, they were done with finals and basically everything was completed in order to leave. 

So it still raises the question as to why April was still obligated to be here. She had one more week left of this torture called school, but it was starting to feel like an eternity!

And her last period class wasn’t making it any better either. 

It was Math.

Fucking. Math. 

And if you knew anything about Math periods…they took a century to finish. Plus, it was always so boring because their teacher would never. stop. yapping. 

“I want to go home.” April grumbled quietly, resting her cheek on her palm at her desk as their teacher— Ms. Miller— explained bullshit she didn’t know nor care about. Leo snorted in amusement at the comment, turning his head slightly at his friend who was beside him.

“Oh? Are you not enjoying Ms. Miller’s wonderful insight?” The teen in blue asked teasingly. Although, it was abundantly clear he too was not enjoying their teacher’s well known yap-sesh. 

The older teen just sighed in response, slouching in her chair as she crossed her arms across her chest, “This class is going to be on my suicide note.” She muttered under her breath. Leonardo put his hand over his mouth at her grumbled comment, looking down on his desk as he was trying not to laugh. 

Ms. Miller, who was at the front of the room smacked the whiteboard sternly with her ruler, causing the whole class to stiffen in surprise and look at her. 

“She goin' get me…” Mikey mumbled under his breath, causing the entire class to try and hold in their giggles the best they could. 

The teacher sighed tiredly, rubbing her eyes before looking at the class, “Since it’s the end of the school year and I literally cannot wait to not see any of you for a good two to three months, let’s just do a Math activity for the remainder of class.”

“Awe!!! Your letting us play a game because you love us???” Mikey asked.

“No. I’m not giving you all a 'game' because I don’t feel like grading anything.” She responded. 

“Fair enough.” The turtle in orange mused as the teacher passed around sheet’s of paper with equations on it. “You can partner up with someone to complete all thirty questions. The first pair to answer all thirty questions and get them all right gets Dum-Dum lolipops.” She finished explaining as the kids gave knowing looks to each other, telepathically communicating with one another who would partner up with who. 

“…I feel like you’re trying to imply something with those lollipops, Ms. Miller…” Raph said as he raised a brow. The teacher let out a small laugh in response, sitting down at her desk as she went on her phone.

Okay…so perhaps this day wouldn’t turn out as bad as April initially thought. 

The girl in glasses gave her blue cladded mutant friend a knowing look, which he gladly reciprocated as she scooted closer to him and started to work on the problems together. 

“We are going to absolutely dominate every single fucking person in this classroom and win that candy.” The older teen said as she cracked her knuckles, taking out her pencil case and taking out a pencil. 

Which was the Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil of course. 

“…Are you sure?” The hazel eyed mutant asked as he looked over the problems, “I’m not that good in Geometry…”

“Pff— am I sure? Sure I’m sure! Your girl right here got an A in Geometry.” April smiled as she slung an arm over the other’s shoulders, “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Leo Lazilee. I’m going to absolutely carry our team to sugary sweet VICTORY!” 

The younger slightly blushed at the nickname, rolling his eyes fondly, “I told you to stop calling me that…” He mumbled out but the other could tell he did not mean it one bit. 

The girl in glasses grabbed her pencil, ready to start solving the problems before really and truly looking as to what was in front of her. 

“The fuck is this shit?” The girl questioned, looking at the paper as if it grew ten heads out of nowhere. Leo mentally facepalmed, looking at the sheet alongside his best friend as they both looked at it in confusion. 

“…Why does the Math problem have shapes…?” The leader in blue mumbled to his friend beside him. 

“…Okahay, we’re both officially stupid.” The girl in glasses chuckled out, putting the pencil on the table as she leaned back on the chair.

The hazel eyed teen rolled his eyes at the automatic acceptance of defeat from his teammate, “Your no help.” He huffed out, turning around in his seat to face the person behind him.

Which, if you’re wondering, was none other than his big beautiful brained little brother Donnie. 

Oh, and Raph was here too, I guess. 

“Psst, Don! PSST!!!” The leader in blue whispered to his brother although he was literally a centimeter away from him. The purple cladded turtle in question looked up from the worksheet to meet his older brother’s gaze, “Nardo, why are you whispering so loudly?” He questioned. 

“I need your answers for the worksheet thingie!” Leo said.

“Are you crazy?” The hoodie wearing turtle asked as he huffed out a laugh, “Me? Dona Tello? Give you my answers? HA! Sorry, dear brother of mine…you expect waaaay too much.” 

Raph was sitting next to Donnie as the two teammates went shoulder to shoulder and barricaded the worksheet with their arms so Leo couldn’t see the paper. At all. The eldest huffed, turning back around and slumping in his chair with his arms crossed. 

Well, since his brain and brawn brother’s did not want to help him and April through these dire times, perhaps his youngest brother would be of aid. 

Leonardo got up, walking a couple seats down to where Mikey and Mondo were. The two friends were just telling jokes to each other and doodling all over the back of the paper. The hazel eyed teen did nothave the patience and/or stamina to even ask the two if they knew it was a worksheet in the first place and not some coloring page.  

Besides, from what Leo heard, the two seemed to be having a meaningful convo about the Trump vs. Biden presidential debate, MLP, Helluva Boss, amusement parks and…grass. 

How do those topics all correlate in a conversation? Leonardo has absolutely no clue! 

But the two were making it work, so he wouldn’t question it. 

The eldest turtle went back to his seat, letting out a defeated sigh as April patted him on the shell comfortingly. “Seems like we’re going to have to do this the old fashioned way...” The leader in blue muttered out as he sat up straight,  looking over the problems again.

After a couple minutes of Leonardo just aimlessly staring at the paper, April got impaitent and just grabbed the worksheet, looking at the problems for a split second before jotting down random answers. 

“Uh…Prill? You know I never question your unorthodox way of doing things…but I am 100% questioning it right now.” The younger teen said as he peeked over to look at the questions— which April was halfway done with.

“Trust the process, Nerdo. I’ll have us swimming in candy in no time!” The girl grinned, going into her pencil case to sharpen her pencil. The blue cladded turtle took one more good look at the paper and examined it thouroughly. 

Look, Leo’s only been in school for about a year now, but he’s 99.9% positive Geometry answers should not be just question marks. 

As the chocolate brown eyed teen was ready to write down another answer to the worksheet, the other snatched the pencil away from her quickly, glaring at her playfully as she glared playfully back. 

“Oho, Leo~!” The girl sang in a sing-song voice, “I would be ever-so grateful if you could give me back my pencil. My Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil to be exact.” She exclaimed with emphasis and whimsy. 

“Soho yohou can wrihite quehestion marks ahall over the paper? Yeheah…noho...” The mutant remarked. 

“Juhust gihive me my pehencil!”

“Noho!” 

April almost automatically poked Leo in the side due to his statement, causing the turtle to shriek in surprise as he flinched slightly from the touch. The random noise that escaped his mouth got a couple of concerned looks from his other classmates but they soon deflected and went back to doing their own thing. 

The slightly taller teen clutched the pencil to his chest like it was the last piece of pizza on Earth and he was fighting for it with every single fiber in his body. He scooted his chair slightly away from his friend but she easily and gladly followed, raising a brow in amusement and delight. 

“Why are you so nervous all of a sudden~?” She asked innocently as the other avoided her gaze, looking to the side of him as he was trying not to literally grab his backpack and sprint all the way back to the lair in complete terror. 

“Nardo~! My pencil, please!” The other smiled sweetly as she extended her hand, awaiting her fellow teammate to give back what was rightfully her’s. “Ahand ihif Ihi dohohon’t…?” Leo meekly asked, letting out a soft and tiny squeal as the older pinched his side again. 

“You know what’s going to happen, you goof. I have no problem doing this in front of everyone.” April said as she now squeezed Leo’s sides with her fingers. The slightly taller teen snorted, slightly sliding down in the chair as he tried to avoid his best friend’s attacks. 

“S-Stahahap!!” The blue cladded turtle giggled, batting at April’s arms with his arms weakly. The girl chuckled at the adorable sight, booping Leo’s nose before squeezing his sides once more. “You don’t really want me to stop though, do you?” She mused as the younger stomped his legs on the floor, trying his absolute best to keep his reaction to a minimum.

“Your brother and April need to get a room, brah…” Mondo chuckled in amusement as him and Mikey watched the scene unfold. The youngest turtle sighed knowingly, leaning back on his chair, “Tell me about it…”

The leader in blue weakly thrashed in his seat, hugging his middles whilst still having the pencil in his right hand. “Aha— *snort* AhaHAPRIHIL!” He giggly said.

The girl just smirked in response, sneaking her hands to the other’s underarms and resulting him to let out loud giddy cackles and snorts. “Oho~? Snorting already?” She asked.

The mutant shook his head back and forth, covering his mouth with his hands to try and muffle his laugh. The glasses wielding teen scoffed lightly at the action, digging harder into the other’s underarms. “Ohhhh no you don’t, Leo Lazilee. I am not allowing you to hide your precious giggles from me! Drop your hands~!” 

“FAHAH— *snort* *snort* MAHAKE MEEHEE!!” 

“Have it your way.” The elder teen said casually, effortlessly holding the leader in blue’s arms up as her fingers scribbled all over his stomach and sides. 

Leonardo threw his head back, stomping his feet on the ground as he tried to squirm away from April. “Tickle tickle tickle~!” 

“PFFT— *snort* NAHAHA!! D-DOHON’T EHEHEVEN *snort* *snort* DOHON’T *snort* SAHAHAY THAHAT!!!” 

“Hm? Don’t say what, Lee-o~? Tickle~?” April teased as the mutant’s laughter raised an octave. “NAHA— *snort* NOHOHO STAHAP IHIT!” 

“How about…no? Tickletickletickletickletickletickle~!” The girl continued to tease as she watched her best friend turn into a giggly puddle of snorts and squeals. “Is someone too tickle tickle ticklish~? Does this…tickletickletickletickletickle~?” 

The hazel eyed teen snorted loudly, “PRIHIHILLIE!!! PLEHEHEASE STAHA— *snort* NONONOHOHO— *snort* *snort* NAHAHAH!!!” 

“No what~? Are you too ticklish for this~?”

“SHUHUT *snort* UHUHAHAP!!” 

The chocolate brown eyed girl stopped her attack altogether at the sudden and very rude comment, glaring teasingly at her friend as if to say: 'Your about to get it.'

Raphael shook his head in mock dissapointment, eating a bag of Doritos as he was watching the one sided tickle fight right in front of him “Saying 'shut up' to April is absolutley wild. And doing that literaly four months after Women’s History month?! For shame, brother. For. shame.” The tallest turtle said dramatically. 

“Anyways, try aiming for his lower stomach. It drives him batshit crazy.” The second oldest turtle casually said, grinning as he saw the eldest giving him the nastiest stink eye. 

The girl smiled in awaiting triumph, “Okay then. Thanks— wait a sec. Raph, where the hell did you get Doritos from?!”

“My…backpack?” The red cladded turtle said as if his answer should’ve been obvious. 

“Dude, this is literally our last period.” Donnie laughed, still solving the last couple of problems on the worksheet.

“So? Last time I checked, this was a free country. I’ll eat Doritos any time and at any class period. Period.” Raphael announced as he ate more of the Dorito chips from the bag. The girl in glasses just rolled her eyes fondly, keeping her friend’s wrists in a hold as the other hand wiggled slowly to his lower stomach.

“N-NAHAH— *snort* *snort* NOHOHOH!!!”

“Gihive me my pehehencil yohou buffoon!” 

“IHIHI’LL *snort* STAHAB *snort* YOHOHOU *snort *snort* WIHITH IHIHIHIT!!!”

“You wanna see how that’ll end~?” 

“N-NOHO! NONOHOHO WAHA— *snort* WAHAIT IM SORRY!!” Leo cried out, being too tired to writhe or pry so he was just stuck laughing his shell off. The slightly older teenager payed him no mind, raising his arms a bit higher as she scribbled her nails all over his plastron and lower plastron. 

But ladies and gentlemen? Nothing…absolutely nothing could have prepared anyone in that classroom for what unfolded. 

The leader in blue let out a loud, genuine scream before descending into screechy cackles. April soon bursted into loud laughter along with Leo, wondering just how insanely ticklish a ninja turtle could possibly be. 

“EEEEEHEHEHAHAH!!! PLEHA— *snort* *snort* *snort* STAHAHAP!!! IHI CAHAN’T TAHAKE IHI— *snort*!!” Leonardo squealed as his laughter went up an octave or two. April was honestly genuinely surprised no teacher from the classrooms came to check up on them to make sure no one was fatally dying. 

The teachers aren’t really payed enough to care that much but still!

“TAHAKE IHIT! TAHAHAHAKE *snort* *snort* *snort* IHIHIT! PRIHIHILLIE PLEHAHA— *snort* *snort* PLEHEASE!” As the blue cladded mutant’s laugh and gasps became more frantic, the slightly smaller teen stopped tickling him, grabbing the pencil from his hands as she pat his shoulder comfortingly.

“I just wanted my pencil back. You took my property and I used self defense.” April said teasingly, reaching for the paper and erasing her previous answers to start again. “Ihi’m *snort* gohoing to fihile aha *snort* *snort* complaint…”

“Oho yeah? To who?” 

“To Daharth Vahader soho he cahan use thehe force on your ahashy ahass…” Leo grumbled through his giggles, sitting up in his chair as his best friend continued to finish the last of the problems. 

As the chocolate eyed teen finished up with the remainder of the problems, her and Leo got up to give the worksheet to the teacher. “Here you go, Ms. Miller! All thirty problems 101% completed.” The girl grinned. 

Their teacher raised a brow, pulling up the answer key on her computer as she looked over the two’s work.

“That’s incorrect.” Ms. Miller said.

“Ms. Miller…exactly what’s incorrect?” Leonardo asked. 

“…All of it.” The teacher explained. But before she could give the two partners some insight on whatthey did wrong and how they could improve, the two were pushed aside by Donnie and Raph. 

“Eat shit, suckers.” Raphael snickered as he handed their teacher the paper (he had sanitized his hands prior due to him eating Doritos earlier. He wasn’t an animal). 

“I don’t get paid enough for this…” Ms. Miller sighed, looking over the brain and brawn’s worksheet as she compared it with the answer key, “Good job you two. Everything is correct.” She said, pulling out one of the drawers on her desk to take out a big jar just full of Dum-Dum lollipops. 

She handed the huge jar to Raph who gladly accepted it, sticking his tongue out at Leo and April teasingly before directing his attention back to their teacher. “Thanks, teach.” He smiled, going back to his desk. 

Donnie on the other hand, started crying from pure joy, dramatically wiping a tear, “Ms. Miller…? Can you get my fellow classmate’s attention? I need to say something important.” He mumbled out meekly. “Here we go…” The leader in blue grumbled as him and April went back to their seats in defeat.

"If you don't like your destiny, don't accept it. Instead, have the courage to change it the way you want it to be." The purple cladded turtle said whenthe class settled down.

“THAT’S A QUOTE FROM NARUTO, YOU COPYCAT!!!” A kid in the class shouted. 

“SHUT UP, BRANDON!!! NOBODY ASKED YOU!!!” Donnie basically screeched at his classmate, his voice rising and being similar to the noise of nails on a chalk board. The whole class cringed at the voice crack but no one dared mention it. 

“A-And I just wanted to thank my manager! A-And my parents and colleagues…” The purple cladded mutant listed. 

“…Donnie has a manager…?” Mondo whispered to Mikey who merely just shrugged, “I’m just as confused as you are, broski…”

“And like big-mouthed Brandon over there mentioned, Naruto says you need to change things the way you want it to be.” The hoodie wearing turtle said wisely.

“So you guys should change the wires in your brains because there was an answer key to the worksheet at the back. But none of you imbeciles noticed.” He grinned, his smile widening as his classmates jaw’s dropped.

“Anyways, thank you all and to all a good night.” The purple cladded teen announced as he bowed dramatically, going back to his seat as him and Raph fist bumped, immediately digging into the lollipop jar.  

“I hope they get diabetes.” Leonardo grumbled as the bell rang. The quintet (group of five people in case you’re wondering :3) packing their bookbags and leaving the classroom along with their classmates.

This day definitely didn’t turn out as bad as April initially thought. 

She still would’ve appreciated winning, though.

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

sitting in the parking lot thinking i might vom

[oh-katsuki]

original pinned!

hello :)) okay so i mentioned this a little bit ago, but i will be moving blogs in the coming days and will be shifting entirely onto the blog @woahjo. i've decided to go by the same pseud i currently use, (because i feel like i'm lying if i don't and i hate that LMFAO) though i considered going by a new one, and my ao3 will be staying the same. i also won't be reposting anything to the new blog just yet (maybe a few of my favorites eventually), but i'll be leaving this blog up! the new blog (ofc) is a writing blog and will function essentially the same way this one does. please come join me over there if you like. i'd feel very honored <3

i'm not sure how many people really care all that much about what i have to say about this, but i'll say a little bit anyway bc i feel a lot of responsibility and big feelings towards this blog.

tldr; i'm switching blogs. it's silly to get emotional but i love it here, i love you, please come say hello over on the new one if you'd like.

i've been feeling this way for a while, and while the recent discourse had an effect, it's mostly a result of my own feelings. i just think it may be time to get a bit of a fresh start. i've had this space for nearly three years now and the community that's been built on this blog is beyond what i ever could have imagined when i first started writing. i know i'm getting a little sappy, but frankly, im shocked people wanted to be here and follow my writing at all. (i never know what to say when people tell me they do) it really humbles me and i hope to continue writing for many many years to come.

i recently took a long look at the way i view fandom culture and space, as well as how it affects me, and i sort of came out on the other side realizing that it might be time for a change of scene. i love this space. i love this community. it's something that i am deeply proud of to a point that i feel very emotional over leaving (clearly lol). in fact, i'm incredibly nervous about posting this. there's a lot of anxiety in posting your art for people to see and it makes me feel vulnerable to type a post like this telling y'all just how much i appreciate you and the part you've all played in this lovely little spot. i'm very emotionally attached to this place.

but!!! i'm excited for the type of creative refresh effect a new blog might have, as well as the ability to get to chat with you guys a little more and make friends. things get lost on here (both because tumblr sucks and because my blog is so messy that it makes me physically nervous to think about) and im hoping to be able to keep my new blog clean and tidy so that everything is easier to find. i've been feeling writer's block for a while now and i feel like having "more space to roam" (for lack of a better phrase) might have a really nice effect.

anyway, all this to say that i love it here. for those of you that choose to follow me to my new blog, please come say hello. and of course the group of old mutuals who are no longer active, i love y'all. if you ever come back to tumblr when ur old and gray, come say hi since i'll probably be writing x reader anime fic still. lol

[dutybcrne]

Thinking of Kaveh with Unhinged partners again

[bonestrouslingbones]

actually while im feeling sad about stupid bullshit (not being popular anymore oh woe is me) lets take a little summary of atbb's pre-hiatus inbox

someone trying to roleplay as sans because they didnt look at the blog for more than two seconds

someone saying the skeletons are cute and asking to hug them

someone asking to be friends with [Enter Skeleton Here]

someone asking what their brothers are like

How are you?

You're cute!

You're cool!

How have you been?

Nice outfit!

Nice outfit!

Nice outfit!

Nice outfit!

someone who does not understand the concept of dramatic irony who wants very badly to explain the full plot so far to characters who would never know that in any context otherwise as if that wouldnt be lame as hell for them to suddenly know

why is [thing that was a very big plot point]

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN

YOU'RE CUTE

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN

HOW HAVE YOU BEEN

[apollo-zero-one]

Man I can't believe I had the chance to go to a performing arts school up through middle school and I fuckin quit after 6 months just because I got bullied. BRO YOUR HOMEWORK WAS POETRY!! YOU HAD TO PRACTICE DANCING TO COTTON EYE JOE AS YOUR BIG UNIT TEST. GYM CLASS HAD A CIRCUS UNIT!! YOU HAD A WHOLE DAILY CLASS ON IMPROV!!! YOU FOOL!! YOU ABSOLUTE IMBICILE!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN A YOUTUBER!!! YOU COULD HAVE BEEN ONE OF THOSE TWEENAGERS GETTING LOADED BY MAKING SHITTY YOUTUBE SHORTS IN 2008-14!! But noooOoooOOOoo little miss Noellie (who WANTED TO GO!! who worked SO HARD and sent in an application essay and did an INTERVIEW to get in!!) couldn't handle disruptive classmates or little scuffles and petty grudges and general Attitude of the other students and cried to mommy to put her back in public school. I am EATING MY HAIR over what Could Have Been. I COULD BE SOMEONE'S ANNOYING YOUTUBER!! I could be a DISGRACED DISNEY CHANNEL STAR!! I could be an America's Got Talent winner! A mild to moderately successful comedian! I could be making short films!! But no no no precious thin skinned baby me heard a few new cus words and watched a teacher get heckled and begged to give up The Dream in favor of?? Quiet math tests?? I am such a fucking quitter I quit everything the second it gets too hard I always take the out as soon as it's offered what's my fucking damage.....

[lexa-griffins]

Bro, tbh, how do you deal with the trolls on AO3 when posting clexa?

It doesn't seem to matter what kind of story I post, there's always a rabid hater. Trans Lexa is a fedish, Trans Clarke is erasing Lexa's lesbianism, Clarke having past relationships, is her being a whore, Lexa having a abusive father is taking away from her being a strong character.

It honestly takes away from the joy of writing when the only type of comment I can depend on, is one saying I'm a shitty person for writing such a story.

Oof, sorry you're dealing with the trolls buddy 😞

My advice for troll/hate comments will forever be to not respond and delete them. They do not want to try and see the other side or even understand the basis of dont like dont read and let people write whatever the fuck they want. Misery loves company and truth be told the trolls going around are a bunch of pathetic transphobes and biphobes, they seem to get off on pissing off writers, they want attention, and they want to try and get you mad enough to delete the things you worked hard on. I know its very much easier said than done, but when i get hate comments i see them as a toddler throwing a temper tantrum. Its funny, in a pathetic way. Like those poor things really can't rub 2 braincells together and make a coherent argument that isn't "bi woman whore, lesbian strong and never suffers, dick is man vagina is woman". I wouldn't take valid writing criticism from a toddler so i sure as hell aint taking it from trolls with no reading interpretation skills.

I can totally understand how its absolutely unmotivating to get those comments. Ive seen a lot of recent fics be deleted because of them and its disheartening seeing how not only are people commenting less but how at this point posting a fic in the fandom needs to come with a warning of how you might get hate comments from a puritan shithead who believes themselves some sort of savior of the shit when in reality they are just helping kill a fandom. Im sorry that i dont really have any other advice for you, but if there is something i recommend is the no engage/delete comments. They might get tired, they might not. But the truth is that getting a response will always, always make them come back because they now know they can hit a nerve.

But please, dont let them stop you from writing what you like and makes you excited to create. If all they want is sanitized fics where characters are nothing but a one-layered piece of paper with family friendly romance and no conflict then perhaps they should not be in a grown-up space that isn't 100% tailored to them.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[ectoplasmer]

bloomic posting again sorry but uhh

screaming dying sdfkjhfdjkfhsdkjhfdskjhkjfdshjkds

[thedreadvampy]

I mean sure, I can understand this perspective, but I'm not sure whether most people feel less shaken to be thrust into conversations about "self-unaliving" than conversations about "suicide"

and I for one as a survivor would much rather unexpectedly encounter somebody talking about "rape" than somebody talking about how funny it is to have sex with somebody when they don't want to, a normal thing that doesn't need to be named because it's So Normal.

which is to say. this is a post about words. the words are not the distressing thing about the discussion. the distressing thing is the distressing thing about the discussion. sugarcoating, dodging or renaming the distressing thing doesn't make it less distressing but it DOES often make it harder to have a frank discussion about it or address it in serious terms.

[pinch of salt: solid probability from their blog that this person is a Literal 14 Year Old and the perspective from 30 and 14 are very different. I do stand by all the points I'm making but I think this conversation lands a lot different for people at different life stages - there is something to be said for the general issue that the internet has flattened social groups to the degree that I as a 30 year old can make a post to my audience of largely adult millennials that immediately enters the same conversational space as people half my age and still in school. that seems. ungreat. as the primary way we engage in conversation. but I don't have solutions to offer.]

you gotta be able to say "die"

you gotta be able to say "suicide"

you gotta be able to talk about "sex"

they're uncomfortable topics, YEAH for SURE

because LIFE is uncomfortable. Death and suicide and sex and pain are straight up going to happen. not having words for the way it discomforts you doesn't make it more comfortable, it just makes you less able to reach out about it.

even more vital, you gotta be able to say words like "rape", "abuse", "queer" or "racist". cause we fought fucking hard to name those experiences. to identify "rape" as distinct from "sex" and "racism" as distinct from "acceptable behaviour" and "queer" as distinct from "invert"

like the function of communication is not to minimise immediate discomfort. we gotta be able to talk about stuff that's hard or sucks or causes difficult conversations.

[thetangibleghost]

Drink a little something to keep u up at nite. Resistance is futile.

[nochepsicodelica]

Toji who leaves hickeys all over you so often that you have to push him away when you start looking like you fought an octopus.

"Toji, you know these aren't always gonna be so small. They're gonna end up looking like bruises. Just look at the ones you already left."

"Mhm," he hums, already leaving another one on your shoulder blade, releasing your skin with a wet smack of his lips. He rubs his spit into the mark like it's some sort of salve that'll make it last longer.

"I'm fine with these," you say, looking at all the one's he left on your chest and below. "but my neck... i'm running out of makeup, baby. I won't be able to cover them if you keep this up."

"Then don't." He would just love that. Despite how nonchalant he sounds about it, it's a highly recommended suggestion. He would genuinely love it if you walked around with his marks all over your neck. People will automatically know that you already have someone you get freaky with.

"I have to go to work sometime. I wouldn't be able to take having my neck stared at by everyone I talk to. No more neck hickeys."

He nears your neck, again. The second you say he can't put another mark on it, he spots a clear area and leans in, lightly pressing his lips against it.

"Tojiii," you whine, leaning forward, away from him. "Leave it alone."

"But, it's clear. It's lonely without being marked like the rest of your neck." He scoots forward again, putting his enormous hands on your waist to pull you close. "I'll be quick. Just-"

"Mm-mm. No," you interrupt, brushing his hands off of you.

"I might just die if you don't let me do this, ma."

"Really?" You raise your brows in disbelief.

"Really," he responds, so confidently.

You scoff. "You're so dramatic. You won't die if you don't get to suck on my neck."

"Who knows? I might spontaneously collapse because of it. Weirder, more unexplainable things have happened."

He's so dumb sometimes. Your hunk is absolutely ridiculous, and yet you find yourself weighing towards his point in this.

"Would marking up that blank space actually cure you?" You feel as silly as him for asking the question.

"Who's to say?"

You tilt your head and deadpan. "Right. I guess i'll take my chances and just keep the random patch of unmarked skin on my neck."

"Hey, that doesn't mean we can't try. Come on, now."

You groan and roll your eyes before making your way back to him. He cups your cheeks, smirking as he looks into your eyes, before turning your head to expose the blank area on your neck.

"It's a reaaally good spot, doll. I think i'm gonna make it."

You huff, unable to look at him because of the way your head is turned. You feel his tongue slide over your neck, the gesture transitioning to his lips kissing the area and then it feels sharp. His lips leave a stinging sensation with every second that they stay on you.

"Ow, fuck, you vampire. It feels like you're actually trying to suck the blood out of me." You wince. "Are you done?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm done." He admires his masterpiece and smirks with pride. You have an entire collar of hickeys that he put on you, and the newest one looks mean.

"You look pretty. Could eat you up, mama." He swipes at the new mark with his thumb, looking at the color that will remain on your skin for the next few days.

"I can tell. You already devoured me. You're insane. Just look at all of this," you say, running your hand over your kiss stained neck.

"I was just nibbling on you," he speaks, into your jaw, before smoothly laying you down, onto the bed. "Just wanted a little taste," he says, taking your hands in his and pinning them above your head. "Am I really insane for that?"

"Um..." you laugh, making your flustered state obvious. "Yes?"

"Damn." He gives you a long, deep kiss, that makes you forget what you were talking about. "You think i'm crazy?" You hum, and he does it again.

"Haven't you played with me enough? I feel like i'm some chew toy for you." You giggle, feeling his lips on your cheek, trailing towards your jaw.

He hums, dismissively. "Found more blank space."

[happy74827]

Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.