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Platonic Plus One? (Chapter 4)
Paige POV
Pacing back and forth in their room, Paige is trying to wrap her head around how they ended up here. Azzi is taking a shower, so she texted KK, explaining the recent events.
KK: man...are you even gonna survive this week
P boogers: IM FREAKIN TF OUT MAN
KK: nah bro you got this just act like y’all normally do
y’all already seem like you’re dating anyway
P boogers: why did i even text you
KK: bc you a simp in love
Paige throws her phone and flops onto the bed. She must have done something wrong in a past life to deserve this punishment. Maybe it's because she argued with that ref too much last week.
Azzi walks out in just a towel and water dripping off her skin and holy shit. It was definitely the ref coming back to torture her.
“Hey P, what drawer did you put my PJs in?”
“Top right.” Paige sighs and covers her eyes with her arm.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Paige? I really don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.” Azzi fidgets with the end of her towel. Why does everything she does need to be so cute?
“No, Az, it’s fine, really. I just don’t wanna mess nothing up. Like maybe we need a timeline? Your parents on gonna be on my ass on why we didn’t tell them.”
“Easy, you asked me out like 2 months ago, and we were just say we figured they knew,” Azzi says so nonchalantly as if she’s had this ready her whole life.
“Woah, pause. Maybe you asked me out!”
“Who would actually believe that, Paige?”
“Okay, first, rude. Secondly, this was your whole idea to fake date, so you shoulda been the one to ask me out.”
“Okay, fine, I asked you out. No one would believe you made the first move anyway.”
“Bro relaaaaaax. I can make a move!” Says the girl who has never tried to make a move on her best friend she’s been in love with for years.
“Sure you can, P. Rizz em up.”
“Whatever, dude.”
“Also, stop calling me dude. It’s weird to call your girlfriend dude or bro.”
“But I call like everyone that it’s not weird!”
Azzi glared at Paige hard. “If I was your girlfriend and you kept calling me dude, you’d be sleeping on the couch.”
Paige put her hands up in defense, “Damn okay. What you wanna be called then?”
“Just like the normal gooey in love stuff like baby. Keep it normal.”
“Aight, Princess, as you wish.”
“See, you’re already being such a good girlfriend! My lil simp.” Paige throws a pillow at Azzi as they laugh. They both get ready for bed before Paige finally finds the courage to ask a question she’s been dying to know.
“So, uh, like what did you do for our first date?”
Azzi didn’t seem caught off guard, just thoughtful. “Hmm, I’d probably bring you to a drive-in theater because you’re weirdly in love with your car and talk too much during movies. Plus you love anything that isn't healthy, so endless popcorn and candy for my girl, of course.”
Paige’s heart just stopped. My girl. They haven’t even had to really pretend they’re dating yet, and her heart is already stopping. “Insults aside, that actually sounds pretty fun. We should do that when we get back.”
“You asking me on a date already, Bueckers?” Azzi smirks as she slips into bed.
Paige follows after her, rolling her eyes. “You wish.” They sit in a comfortable silence after turning off the lights. “Uh, you know people might think it's weird if there's no PDA. Like, as friends, we are pretty touchy, so I feel like some of your family might expect us to be a little more affectionate.”
“Hmm, good point. What are you comfortable with?”
Nothing and everything. “Down for whatever, Az. Like I said, we touch all the time already.”
“Hm, okay. So you’re fine holding my hand all the time?” Azzi slips her fingers into Paige’s hands.
“Already do.”
“Okay,” Azzi smirks in a way Paige knows means trouble. She has to be scheming. Azzi will take any opportunity to mess with Paige. Everyone else sees a confident and put together basketball player, but Azzi sees every side of Paige. Azzi moves her hands around Paige’s waist, looking down at her. “How about all the hugging?”
Did this room suddenly get really warm? Thankfully, the lights are off, maybe hiding Paige’s red cheeks.
“I uh m-mean we, yeah we hug a lot.” They’re so close at this point that Azzi can probably feel Paige’s rapid heartbeat.
“How about kissing?” Azzi says softly as she leaned in towards Paige, moving her hands to grasp the hair on the back of her neck. Paige is paralyzed, staring up at Azzi’s eyes. Paige tightens her grip on Azzi’s waist under her sleep shirt. No sounds can be heard but their soft breathing.
Azzi’s smirk grows, knowing she has all the power over Paige. “Careful, Bueckers, you might fall in love with me.” Too late.
Paige’s eyes flicker down to Azzi’s lips, and now Azzi was the one to freeze. They’re so close, and all Paige needs to do is inch forward the slightest bit. She’s imagined kissing Azzi a million times. Imagined what it would feel like and what she would taste like.
Azzi audibly gulps when Paige looks back into her eyes. Paige has never seen Azzi like this before, but she likes it.
Before either of them thinks it through, they close the gap. They were already so close, it's hard to tell who made the final move. It was soft and hesitant at first. They began to relax into each other, and their lips move fluidly against each other. Azzi sighs into the kiss and moves her hand to Paige’s cheek.
Something about the movement brought Paige back to reality, reminding her that this was her best friend. That she can’t fall deeper in love with her. That this is all fake. Paige gently removes her lips, but Azzi looks down at her with hooded eyes. It feels too real. Paige hears Kk in her mind telling her to protect herself. Paige could feel the walls building around her, needing to remove the moment's intensity. Needing to bring them back to their usual teasing.
“Seems like you might be the one who falls in love with me, Fudd.” Paige smirks as best as she can to lighten the moment.
Azzi still tries to catch her breath as she removes herself slightly from Paige. “Oh yeah? Sounds like yet another challenge you’ll lose to.”
Paige could finally release a full breath without Azzi on top of her. “That tends to be what you say right before you lose to me.”
“Alright, Madison, simmer the confidence now. We need to be up early tomorrow, so save some of that for tomorrow.”
Right, tomorrow. A day filled with lingering touches, kisses, and affection. A day that Paige can totally handle. Well, maybe.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
Azzi’s alarm goes off, signaling them to start their day. Azzi shoves herself into Paige, trying to hide from the intrusive noise. Paige only knows this because she hasn’t slept. How was she supposed to casually fall asleep after kissing the love of her life?
How the fuck did she get herself in this mess? Oh right, she never learned how to say no to Azzi. The girl who smiles at her, and the world slows down. The problem with this whole plan won’t be needing to fake it. The issue will be needing to fake being just friends afterward.
“Mhmm, Paigey, turn it off.”
“Sorry, Az, but we gotta make it in time for breakfast. Mrs. Miller is kinda intense with this whole schedule.”
“You’re telling me.” Azzi smiles up at Paige and then shifts to slide off the bed and get ready for the day as if nothing out of the ordinary ever happened.
“Is the breakfast casual?”
“Yeah, wear a bathing suit underneath it because it looks like we are spending the morning at the pool.”
“Sweet, we can play mermaids!” And avoid thinking about Azzi in a bathing suit.
Azzi looks pointedly at Paige and laughs, “Just get ready, you guppy.”
“Here’s some orange juice and Fruit Loops as requested,” Azzi says lightheartedly with an eye roll.
“Fuck yeah, thanks Az.” Paige immediately attacks her cereal as if she’s never eaten before. In her defense, all the food last night was stupidly fancy, so can you blame a girl for being desperate?
“Baby, slow down. You’re going to aspirate on a Fruit Loop, and that's not a cute look.” Baby. Now, that might be what kills her.
Paige smiles up at her with a colorful mouth full of cereal. “Sorry, I’m just really hungry.”
Tim jumps in, “Bueckers, you always eat like that when sugar is involved.”
“Don’t cap! I just really like my cereal, damn...”
Azzi seems to be looking at Paige, processing something until it clicks and rubs Paige’s back affectionately. “Shit, Paige, I’m sorry I didn’t even think about the food last night not being your vibe.”
“Nah, I’m good forreal. These Fruit Loops are bomb.” As Paige finishes her sentence, Azzi’s aunt and grandmother walk up to say good morning. Azzi never moves her hand, but she does seem to have the slightest shift in her demeanor as her shoulders stiffen.
“Morning, Grandma! How’d you sleep?”
“Oh, just fine! Thank you for asking, sweetheart. How about you, ladies?”
Before Azzi could answer, Jon scoffed, “I’m sure no sleep was had in that room if you know what I mean.”
Paige chokes on a Fruit Loop in shock. Azzi glares at her brother and rubs Paige’s back as she coughs it out. “You okay, baby?” Jon and Jose snicker in their corner, enjoying how red they made Paige. Grandma Fudd’s face flickers in confusion at the term of endearment for a moment.
“Can’t believe I almost died because of a Fruit Loop.”
Azzi’s aunt smiles lovingly at them. “You two are just so cute together! I ship it.”
Jose is the one to step in this time. “Aunt Chrissy, where did you even learn to say that?”
“Oh, to ship them? I am cool and hip, you know.”
“Well, your old grandma isn’t, so someone fill me in.”
“When you ship two people, it means you love them as a couple.” Paige could see the wheels turning in the older woman’s head. She’s bracing herself for the awkwardness that might come next.
“Oh dear, I think I missed something. Are you two in a relationship?”
Azzi grabs Paige’s hand and smiles, “Yeah, grandma Paige is my girlfriend.” God, she wished that she could hear that on repeat.
Jose mumbles, “Took them long enough.”
Azzi whips her head towards her brothers, “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Dude, you guys have been in love for like ever.” Azzi’s face is one of pure shock, and Paige is pretty sure even a sunburn couldn't make her this red.
To make matters worse, Grandma Fudd steps back in, “I must say I have to agree with your brother. I thought maybe there was something there, but Katie just kept telling me you girls are just close.”
Azzi sighs and puts her face in her hands. “Okay, can we stop analyzing our relationship and just eat breakfast, please?”
“Yes, yes, sorry, sweetie. It just all makes so much more sense why you never dated any boys. Oh, and poor Jonathan!”
“Oh, who cares! We want to hear all about how this all finally came to fruition!” Wow, Aunt Chrissy really does ship us.
“Azzi Fudd over here asked me on a date!” Paige smiles triumphantly, enjoying the side eye from Azzi. ”She made me a Tru Fru bouquet and brought me to a drive-in movie where she asked me to be her girlfriend.”
Azzi laughs at the mention of a Tru Fru bouquet. “Yeah, well someone had to have the balls to make the move.” Okay, ouch.
“Aight, chill, dude. I was nervous.” Azzi glares at Paige and shoves her knee when she calls her dude.
“Sorry, baby, you right.”
“Simp,” Jose mumbled under his breath while Azzi looked way too proud at the power she held in this moment.
“Bro, why does everyone keep callin me a simp today?”
Katie chimed in with a shrug, “You’ve been a simp since day one, Paige. It’s just more fun to say it now that it's official.” Azzi snickers and high-fived her brothers.
The rest of the breakfast continued easily. Paige always felt the most at home with Azzi and her family. They had been done eating for a while, and Paige put her arm around Azzi’s chair. Honestly, Paige does that all the time, so it’s nothing new. What’s new is how much Azzi leaned into Paige and her hand placement on Paige’s upper thigh.
People keep talking, and Paige genuinely tries to listen, but she can’t focus on anything but Azzi’s hand. Paige shifts uncomfortably, trying to deal with her inappropriate thoughts, which leads Azzi to move her hand up slightly higher when she turns just enough to look up at Paige. When Paige looks down, her breath hitches at how close their faces are, and she sees Azzi’s eyes flicker down to her lips before coughing and returning to the normal conversation. How can she be so nonchalant? Since when has Azzi been a world-renowned fake girlfriend actor?
Mrs. Miller enters the breakfast room with a mimosa on her way outside. Now Paige’s brain has shifted to finding where she got that mimosa. She’ll need some liquid courage to deal with the touching for an entire day. “Good morning, Fudd family! Please take your time and join us out by the pool.”
Paige stands up rather abruptly at the invitation. If she doesn’t have some space soon, she might pass out. “Uh, sorry, I love swimming.”
Everyone laughs at Paige endearingly, and Azzi moves to stand, catching Paige’s hand like it’s second nature and making their way outside.
Once they settle, Azzi removes her sundress, exposing her pink bikini, abs, and that damn belly button piercing. That piercing might be semi-responsible for Paige’s sexual awakening. In high school, it was easier to push feelings off and make excuses for their touchiness. But when Azzi showed her the new piercing, the way Paige’s body reacted was definitely not one for a best friend. Now, all these years later, it’s still that damn piercing catching her off guard like she got it yesterday.
Azzi grabs sunscreen, successfully removing Paige from her daydream. “Alright Bueckers, get over here so that pretty face of yours doesn’t burn.” Azzi straddles the tanning chair in front of Paige, without a care in the world that it’s just a tiny bikini bottom covering her. “Hmm, looks like you’re already getting red, Paigey. Let’s get this on fast.”
Well fuck.
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Damn, yeah, that sounds like it would suck to have happen to you as a newer author.
I still stand by The Emperor's Soul being the Sanderson thing I most want to see get a film... or maybe if I'm daydreaming the one I would have the best time writing a screenplay for. Other Sanderson things are probably better better suited for TV series, what with their ensemble casts and multiple plot lines. But The Emperors Soul is the right scope that you could do it justice in a feature length film, and self contained away from Cosmere stuff that you could do a faithful adaptation that is accessible to people who know nothing about Sanderson.
That said, it occurs to me that Warbreaker would also be pretty decently scoped for a film, and it has the benefit of the magic system already being incredibly visual. You'd probably want to rework a lot of the stuff about Vasher's lore, but outside of that it fits well into the genre of court intrigue and politics fantasy. People eat that stuff up these days!
Also, more Sanderson books have come out since I originally made that comment about The Emperor's Soul (shocking, I know... XD) And of the newer ones -- TRESS. Tress of the Emerald Sea would be great as a family friendly fantasy adventure story. It was already heavily inspired by The Princess Bride, and outside of Tress all the background characters are pretty straightforward and could be easily spun into comic relief supporting cast. There's the issue of what to do with the climax of the story (which is very cosmere-aware), but I think you could dump a lot of the cosmere tie ins, change how you explain Hoid (probably greatly diminish his role and give a lot of his action in the climax to Tress instead, or perhaps to the ensemble pirates), and come out with something coherent and fun.
Also Yumi and the Nightmare Painter should get an anime film adaption. Can we get the Your Name studio to animate it? Lol.
Brandon Sanderson on why TV adaptations of fantasy works end up being so different to the source material:
I have a fun story here. Early in my career, someone optioned the rights to make one of my stories (the Emperor's Soul) into a film. I was ecstatic, as it's not a story that at the time had gotten a lot of attention from Hollywood. I met with the writer, who had a good pedigree, and who seemed extremely excited about the project; turned out, he'd been the one to persuade the production company to go for the option. All seemed really promising. A year or so later, I read his script and it was one of the most bizarre experiences of my life. The character names were, largely, the same, though nothing that happened to them was remotely similar to the story. Emperor's Soul is a small-scale character drama that takes place largely in one room, with discussions of the nature of art between two characters who approach the idea differently. The screenplay detailed an expansive fantasy epic with a new love interest for the main character (a pirate captain.) They globe-trotted, they fought monsters, they explored a world largely unrelated to mine, save for a few words here and there. It was then that I realized what was going on. Hollywood doesn't buy spec scripts (original ideas) from screenwriters very often, and they NEVER buy spec scripts that are epic fantasy. Those are too big, too expensive, and too daunting: they are the sorts of stories where the producers and executives need the proof of an established book series to justify the production. So this writer never had a chance to tell his own epic fantasy story, though he wanted to. Instead, he found a popularish story that nobody had snatched up, and used it as a means to tell the story he'd always wanted to tell, because he'd never otherwise have a chance of getting it made. I'm convinced this is part of the issue with some of these adaptations; screenwriters and directors are creative, and want to tell their own stories, but it's almost impossible to get those made in things like the fantasy genre unless you're a huge established name like Cameron. I'm not saying they all do this deliberately, as that screenwriter did for my work, but I think it's an unconscious influence. They want to tell their stories, and this is the allowed method, so when given the chance at freedom they go off the rails, and the execs don't know the genre or property well enough to understand why this can lead to disaster. Anyway, sorry for the novel length post in a meme thread. I just find the entire situation to be fascinating.
#any of sanderson's work that is from a book series should get adapted as tv series and not films if they get any adaptation at all#I'm sorry I do NOT want a stormlight movie that would be a fucking disaster#mistborn 1 is probably the most adaptable to film of the cosmere series but even that... it'll be hard man#I think sanderson's done the right thing of keeping the rights close for this long. Wait until the right circumstances come together#because it's just SO easy to fuck up adaptations like these. it's kind of the default alas#chatter#brandon sanderson#adaptation#film#books#cosmere#media criticism
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honestly maybe considering making oleander ven and niles just original fiction characters? or finding a mind closet to shove them into while i find different settings for them…
#like. what good does it do when i’m only petrified of posting about those characters in relation to those games#because i know most people in that very small fandom don’t like me very much.#and they have a right to feel that way i was especially insufferable in my bg3 focus era but i always kind of am.#and i am not mad with anyone for disliking me as a result#and again. i don’t want sympathy or ‘oh no that’s not true’ you don’t have to lie to me i know i was/am it’s a fact#i’m just trying to explain my thought process behind this but don’t want to like. victimise myself or anything#i fucked up i most likely will continue to fuck up in different and/or similar ways in social situations i am trying my best but sometimes#that’s just not enough. sometimes my best makes people uncomfortable and i just need to acknowledge and learn from that#while keeping my distance.#like. i think the pathfinder game spaces are small enough where that’s probably something i should do y’know#for bg3 i certainly like mentioned earlier fucked up plenty as well but that fandom is massive#so it feels. different. y’know#even if i did already decide to revamp that stuff/zeke purely into original work but just because i thought it fit the character/plot better#anyways. i think if i can’t write about those characters in that setting for whatever reason then maybe it’d be best if i did that#romeo’s wretched rambles
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hey guys so I just started reading Flatland by Edwin A. Abbott and OMG AHSBNSBSBSNSNBSHZHSHDBFHGGHFHGRJ2KSHSBSNSK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I LOVE THINKING ABOUT THE RELATIVITY BETWEEN DIMENSIONS!!!!!!
#probably the nerdiest thing i will ever read in my entire life but I AM SO HAPPY#Its the unabridged and corrected 1992 republication btw. if you wanna get specific#the only book in which i have actually decided to read the introductory notes and i do NOT regret it because the editor's one IMMEDIATELY#brought up the “oh but surely the second dimension has thickness how else would flatlanders see anything” AND GAVE A REALLY GOOD ANSWER.#which i cannot tell you here. bc it is several paragraphs long and idk how i would shorten it. i would hit tag limit. if thats a thing.#anyways. I'm only a little bit into the first part which basically explains how Flatland works as a society so i haven't even gotten to the#sphere yet but OH MAN I HAVE NEVER BEEN SO EXCITED ABOUT A ROUND OBJECT IN MY LIFE#IM LOSING IT OVER THIS BOOK AAAA :D#me: im so glad i dont have a math class during my senior year! now i dont have to learn anything math-related!#also me: but what if i started studying a complex and almost entirely theoretical part of geometry#bc YEAH i didn't just buy this book bc of gravity falls. I BOUGHT IT BC IVE BEEN RESEARCHING THE 4TH DIMENSION WOOOOOOO!!!!!#one thing i will say i dont like. introductory note suggests the the 4th dimension might be time. this is ok tho bc its followed up with#also saying that time is not a spatial dimension and exist across the 0 1st 2nd and 3rd dimensions which. that epuld mean we live in 4d#already. so. i was worried for a second but THANK YOU THANK YOU OH MY GOD PEOPLE TRYING TO SAY “OH THE 4TH DIMENSION IS TIME” I HATE THAT SO#MUCH AAAAGGHHHH AT LEAST RECOGNIZE ITS NOT SPATIAL!!! TIME IS NOT A SPATIAL DIMENSION!!!!!!! IF IT WAS THEN 4D TRAVEL AND TIME TRAVEL WPULD#BE FHE SAME THING AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY MUCH COOLER POSSIBILITIES WPULD BE THROWN AWAY IF THAT WAS THAT CASE!!!!! AND. AND. IF THE 4TH#DIMENSION IS TIME. THEN WHATS THE 5TH?? 6TH?? YPU CANT KEEP GOINF ON FOREVER LIKE THAT. YPURE JUST MAKEING MORE 3D WORLSS WITH STUFF IN#ADDITION TO TIME. INTERESTING BUT THAY IS NOT ABOHT HIGHRER DIEMSBSJSNSBAKAJSHDHDHHDHDHDJ#sorry for the rant. jsut. agh i want a spatial 4th dimension. i dont think tesseracts exist through time that would just be an aged cube#anyways yeahhh i love the 4th dimension. new hyperfixation or new special interest? ill have to wait and see. anyways i have done it i have#an oc whos 4 dimensional now and she is the coolest ever i love her#but yeah this book is sosososo good i am literally gonna bring it to school to read instead of draw bc i would lose it if i didn't#10/10 would recommend to anyone who wants to Think
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footnotes arent enough I need you to talk to me like im fucking Amelia Bedelia
#this isn’t about anything in particular btw. I just have to add a lot of memos when I’m doing things because some things are done a certain#way and it isn’t explained well in the instructions. like my mom has instructions on her baking recipes right#but when it says stuff like add dry ingredients to wet ingredients it also means you don’t dump it in one go you add it slowly by portion#this is probably why I find videos and demonstrations the most helpful when I learn something. like I almost always ask someone to show me#how they do it because there could be something they do that’s already second nature and wouldn’t really be considered in an explanation yk#I don’t think I’m an exception either. when the rice is done cooking I divide it into 4 quarters to bless it#but there are a million ways to divide rice and it makes me think that one persons way of doing it or not doing it all is just as valid#theres also technically no wrong way to divide rice afaik. this means either all ways of dividing rice is safe or valid until we find some#universally terrible way of dividing rice. until that happens nobody really thinks about specifying HOW you divide the rice#source: I have anxiety starting and doing things for the first time because I got way too many people yell at me NONONO WHAT ARE YOU DOING#THATS WRONG while I’m in the middle of doing the thing. I would rather have people think I’m either very stupid or overly specific#than go thru the panic inducing fear of ‘YOURE DOING THIS WRONG OMG WHY DIDNT YOU ASK AHEAD OF TIME THIS WILL BE FUCKED UP FOREVER’ 🧍#nothing wrong if you don’t give something a second thought because you’re so used to it. but I can and will ask about it and I don’t think I#really should feel bad about it if I don’t know enough to dispute it. idk#the other way around I try to be as specific as possible and word things in a way that people who might not get where I’m coming from will#understand. but the problem with that is my explanations tend to be lengthy and I lose them either way 🗿#Im. trying to work on that using examples and stuff because they seem to work the best#but if I could write everything down on a word doc and beam it into your melon that would save both of us time and embarassment#im rambling the short version is I have adhd#yapping
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Having interesting emotions at the House today
#it’s nice and awesome and the house smells nice and it’s cool and I like it and everyone is nice#but also my mom brought up how ‘creative’ I am and tried to get me to show pictures#like idk it’s just. blegh#I’ve also been asked if I talk which isn’t bad they were nice about it but I don’t want to explain autism I know they’d get it they probably#already know what autism is I mean like how I function and stuff justbagjdhffhdgdhfjgjg#it’s complicated it’s weird#there was some spinach dip that was pretty good they said that the food was gonna take a bit#ima little tired still ;-;#everyone is so nice im just awful at talking to people I don’t know!! im sorry I don’t look you in the eyes and only nod!!!!!
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#my posts#...........................................................................................................................................#............................................................................................................................................#is that enough i think that's enough#yeah that's how its going#everything's been getting worse and I've been feeling very bad but also very pathetic and like complaining almost makes me feel worse but#i can't do anything else about this so like. vent post lmao bc I'm a dumbass#i truly just want to(redacted)but one of those isn't an option and the other i have a drs appointment soon and i don't want to explain that#everything is just. bad. and what isn't i feel like it's getting bad and it's my fault. and I'm probably right.#just. i hate it here#the deserving mentality is truly getting to me and i fucking hate it. it's not logical. I'll still agree with it.#i truly don't deserve the food stuff i can't keep in my life and i deserve the shit that in getting and i can't stop agreeing with that#'oh this classmate wants to have lunch with me on Saturday after working on something! i should cancel before it's too late-#-so i can continue feeling bad for being an apple bc people should hate me bc I'm horrible and don't deserve kindness' like#it's. it's false. it's not logical. and yet#everyone else there's the fucking plexiglass wall and where it wasn't i think it's getting formed and it is my fault probably#i am annoying that one is true#.... I've been making posts like this all day and deleting them bc I'm pathetic also. it's.#... there's a little too much going on lmao#nothing's worth it and i feel like shit and anything i could try to do about it doesn't work and I'm just tired#... in case someone does read this i know it sounds worrying but nothing will happen tbh I'm just a pathetic coward who's sad and tired#and tired of being sad in a way that feels like it's getting worse#I'm not very sure when was the last time i felt. this bad in just. i don't know how to make it stop lmao#also in already annoying so this is all i can do i think lmao#i think I'm seeing now I'm just. being redundant and if i keep this up too much i will delete this. and i should but. i don't think i will#also without saying much this year the one thing™ has been worse than usual and that's not helping either so it truly is just.#that everything is kinda very bad#.... yeah. whatever. it's just.¯\_(ツ)_/¯#... i truly wish killing myself was still an option like when i was a teen bit it's not so i just have to deal with whatever this is#... i hate being aware this is all super illogical bc the logical post of my brain teams up making me feel worse somehow.
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what if dathan was son of obi wan and satine , who is luke's best friend?
While I love the idea of Luke being besties with a son of Obi-Wan and perpetuating the "YOU'RE LIKE MY BROTHER" cycle, I'm afraid I don't know who Dathan is yet 😭
Is he from the new Disney shows? The Sequels? The Comics? Rebels?
Please, bear with me, I didn't know who Luke's father was until three months ago.
Sorry, Anon. I'll probably get back to you when I meet this Dathan guy.
#i should pin to my profile that one post where i explain how shocked i was to find out Anakin was a father#one look at my blog and you will find me saying “i think the chancellor might be a bit of a bad guy”#no seriously#i didn't know the chancellor was going to be the emperor#ask#rambling#i literally asked my partner if padme and anakin got a divorce#i think people see my art and stuff and think i'm probably a fan since a kid#that i grew up with the prequels maybe#but i'm just a new fan that got into it like a slug finally reaches the already eaten tomato#star wars
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it happened again 😭
Skgjfh this took me so long to understand because I thought this was tumblr, I've literally never seen reddit on light mode before
Also skfkfj uh oh I bet the comments are full of people saying this isn't synesthesia and that i need to stop diagnosing people like on here 🤦♂️
#synesthesia is a self diagnosable brain difference. not a treatable condition or something#i cant even fathom a way in which someone falsely claiming to have synesthesia could be harmful#unless they spread misinformation but like. probably not since theres already very little info#if you did that youd just look like a dummy and embarrass yourself#idk i just remember when i discovered i had it and it was fun and it made me really happy to have a word for it#i just want people who didnt know before to have a word for it#especially important if you ever tell other people about it since some people may bully you if they dont understand it#so knowing what it is can either 1) give you a way to explain to others what it is or#2) it can (sadly) tell you what exactly it is about you thats abnormal so you dont talk about it anymore#for example i would just randomly say stuff like 'this song sounds pink' because i thought everyone had that association#but nope. they called me a freak. which to be fair isnt wromg but also ouch
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On the one hand I think it would be really funny if one of my posts blew up, but on the other hand I’d be more self conscious and I am almost certain that people would be annoying with me about veganism. There are literally blogs dedicated to countering dumb arguments and they are so much more eloquent than me. Acti-veg is right there you don’t need to pester me about it, they can word things a million times better than my clumsy ass. I don’t even post about veganism 24/7. It’s in my description because I do post about it, but i reblog memes more than anything else. I do wish I was better at debating for the sake of all the important things I care about. I care about humans as well, and no, those two aren’t mutually exclusive, I say this to people who resist animal rights because they think you can’t do that and care about human rights AND to vegans who, understandably, have become very disillusioned with the current dominant human cultures and outlooks on the treatments of animals. It’s always hard when you see something that is everywhere and is fucked up. It can be hard to not feel only bitterness and despair. For people who aren’t vegan, it could be compared to realizing how fucked up capitalism is and being surrounded by people who defend the system, even people who are hurt by it (so, real life). I can point people in the direction of others who are better at communicating (whenever I have a singular person who comes to mind first, so many things have so many people that I have trouble thinking of just one. Veganism is so weirdly shit upon on this website though that I can think of blogs specifically dedicated to it with far more ease) I didn’t decide to just go vegan on a whim. Going vegetarian was an easy choice to me, but the culture of using animals is so ubiquitous that I myself resisted veganism for quite awhile. This didn’t pop out of nowhere. I gradually noticed things until I went “what I’m doing is actually pretty fucked up and I can stop doing so many of these things” to minimize the amount of harm you do whenever it’s possible and can be done in practice. It’s not some crazy definition, it’s not some unattainable philosophy to do your best to live by, the official definition doesn’t say “stop taking your medication” but you can try to buy things without animal products or testing when I comes to like, shampoo. If you are like “but I don’t have options when it comes to shampoo!” Is there literally anything else you can change? That is what it’s about. The thing is, a lot of people can change more than they expect they can. I can’t show up at your house, look through your budget, check every store you can shop at, but if you can do even a little of that some time, you are at least doing better and are closer to doing everything you can in your own life. If you want to get more defensive and go “what about this person who isn’t me” or “what about this thing I haven’t really thought about for more than a literal minute” whatever it is, it has probably been addressed by someone who actually has a better way with words than me. I won’t just shut up about everything I care about, but I won’t pretend that whatever it is hasn’t already been addressed by a million people who are better than me, and you just don’t care enough to listen to them.
This has turned into me rambling but I am so so tired of encountering the same arguments a million times by people who think that they have some hot new take, and I know I’d have so many people doing that if I got more popular on main. I don’t really mind more people finding me funny or being exposed to a new idea by seeing something I’ve posted or shared, but I am fucking tired of being expected to be some professional or even amateur debater because I care about something and share that person’s post. I know some people are going to dismiss me because of that, but it has already been addressed by a million people better at doing it than me, and whoever is talking to me probably wouldn’t even listen to that anyway. It’s like someone asking you about “why is capitalism bad” and you have seen whatever they throw at you hundreds of times and you know a fuck tonne of people have already explained why capitalism bad. It’s just that whoever it is wants you, just some guy, to explain it and explain it better than you, a random meme guy who cares about things but isn’t practiced in explaining more than the definition of an English word or something.
#emma posts#I mean. I can probably explain more things than a word but I think that gets the point across#I’m so fucking tired of this#if you haven’t actually read up on multiple better communicating activists#then random tumblr free time funny blog is certainly not enough to convince anyone#veganism#would you take ‘criticism’ if it’s criticism that has already been addressed a million times#and that you have explained in real life and been ignored about?#you can lead a horse to water but if the horse wants to ignore the stuff you can’t do anything about it#maybe I should get a book recommendation list ready#but then people would ask for studies#and then they wouldn’t care to look at the studies#and as much as I care I can’t do this over and over again online#it’s one thing to talk about it in person with someone you know#it’s another thing to have the same thing thrown at you over and over again online by people who don’t care to listen anyway#you do your gotcha and leave#turning off re-blogs because this is personal#I’m ready to be deliberately misinterpreted
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today has been the first day in like days i havent gone to sleep in the afternoon then continuously force myself to sleep throughout the night
#okay well its technically *tomorrow* today since its 12 am but when i wrote this post it was 11 50 pm. anyways#i hope that today is the day i break this cycle that has been going on for like a week and a few days#i cant even tell if ive been even more depressed/having a depressive episode anymore#ive been slacking when it comes to taking care of my body and keeping my room not a mess#but then again its already hard to do those things to begin with but its even more noticable since i keep ... just sleeping#bc “i dont have much to do/i dont know how to spend my time”#which well i guess thats kind of true since my social life isnt that good. i have no friends to talk too. but like also i need to start#doing my essays....... keeping up with my homework has just recently been harder bc most of it has been recently assigned writing stuff#i guess me having a depressive episode could be possible. especially since ive been more active on reddit now#okay that sounds ridiculous for me to say but i swear theres context. except not really bc i cant explain this#and i rlly hate that website and have been off that place for years but i always come back for a few months when i get#even more insecure about the lack of people i talk too...lol#tags are getting long.... i should have my own journal by technically tumblr is kind of like my journal#but nobody wants to hear this and i know that but i dont even know why i continue to say shit like this lol#and writing in an actual journal is . hard. to commit too for whatever reason#im not even sure if i even dare try journaling because it might just make me feel even more isolated? and lonely? idk.#okay bye... goodnight everyone. ill probably still be online but im doing. Things i guess#Its okay if anyone doesnt read this though but. Thanks if did read this.#sunny.txt
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Trans Tim off handedly mentioning random things that just confuse people more and more because he never told them he was trans (only Bruce and Alfred know)
Tim: "For the mission I'm thinking I'll go undercover, but it'll take some work to hide the bruises I got earlier. They're everywhere"
Dick: "Oh I think Steph is free right now!"
Tim: "...Ok?"
Dick: "Don't worry I'm sure she'll help you out with this! "
Tim: "That's awesome but I don't think I'll need help. I know how to use makeup."
Dick: "Really-? Ohhh, yeah your public image is like, way more public than ours. That must be tiring, having to hide the bruises all the time."
Tim: "Well yeah but I knew how to use makeup before that. For like, galas as a kid and stuff"
Dick: "...yeah..."
-----
Steph: -Complaining about a man- "And then he said "Oh you should smile more" like "you look like you don't want to be here" like what- what the fuck-??? Maybe I fucking don't dude."
Tim: "Oh yeah I hate when they do that. Like you've spent the entire time bitching about the consistency of snails, I can close my mouth for a few seconds."
Steph: "..."
Tim: "...What-?"
Steph: "Well- I mean yeah but- you know I have to deal with it like...way more, and it's just a bit weird that like, you as a guy are, I dunno, trying to relate? I mean you don't have to deal with it litreally everyday"
Tim: "Well yeah not anymore, but, you know...I still did."
Steph: :...What-"
-----
Tim: -Resting against one of the rooftop ledges-
Jason: "Woah, I can't believe it, Red Robin, slacking. What would Bruce do if he saw this!"
Tim: "Fuck off, it's just period cramps." -Jumps off the edge of the building-
Jason: "Yeah whatever Timblina...
Your fucking what-"
-----
Bruce: "And for this mission, we'll be needing someone for the Caroline disguise, but we already know who that is so-"
Dick: "Wait does Steph actually know how to fight in heels-??"
Bruce: "...N-"
Steph: "Yeah Bruce, I mean, you could at least actually ask me before volunteering me to go fight crime in that dress."
Bruce: "You-"
Jason: "I mean no offense, but literally who else would do it? Cass isn't here right now and I don't think any of us are willing to get a boob job for the mission"
Bruce: "No one's getting a boob job-"
Steph: "Yeah! This is bat tech, Bruce probably has ultra realistic titties in everyone's color and size! Jason you wouldn't even need an attachment."
Jason: "I don't think Caroline Hills has fifty gun shot wounds and muscles the size of most those guys heads."
Steph: "Yeah bu-"
Bruce: "None of that will be necessary because none of you" -Pointing at the right side of the table- "Will be going. No one at this table will be needing any prosthetics...Or boob jobs."
Steph: "...Ok but who the fuck is going then-"
Bruce: "Tim."
The entire table: "..."
Steph: "Tim are you really willing to put on boobs for this-"
Dick: "I don't think that's the best idea-"
Jason: "You just said no prosthetics- Oh this'll be fucking rich"
Tim: "...
I...wouldn't need a boob job?? Or prosthetics?"
Jason: "Timbo, that dress is a pretty low cut, and, no offense, your training hasn't given you that many enhancements."
Tim: "...Thank you for the binding compliment?"
Dick: "The what-"
Tim: "Guys I- I already have boobs-"
The Table: "..."
Steph: "WHAT-"
Dick: "You do-?!"
Jason: "Bruce if you made Tim get boobs for some weird mission-"
Tim: "What- No! No one made me get boobs??? Besides, I don't know, biology I guess??? Genetics maybe???"
Dick: "...I'm extremely confused"
Steph: "WHO GAVE YOU BOOBS-???"
Tim: "I'm not really sure seeing as I was born with them"
Dick: "...
OHHHHHH-"
Steph: "What- is this like a birth defect or something???"
Dick: "Tim- Tim I think you're just gonna have to-"
Tim: "I'm trans."
Jason: "...That's-
Yeah
Ok yeah no that- that explains...a lot."
Steph: "..." -Head in hands- "I am such a fucking idiot"
#tim drake#timothy drake#timothy jackson drake#dick grayson#jason todd#stephine brown#bruce wayne#red robin#nightwing#red hood#batgirl#spoiler dc#dc universe#dcu#batman#batfamily#batkids#trans tim drake#batfamily incorrect quotes#batfam#batfam incorrect quotes
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The Art Of Make-believe Matrimony
Logan Howlett x fem!reader
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Summary: You can’t stand each other, so it’s a mystery to you and Logan why you’re sent out together on an assignment. To make it worse, you’d have to act much closer than you really were.
Warnings: mutant!reader (no specific power mentioned, though), fem!reader, enemies to lovers, swearing, fake dating (technically fake marriage), mentions of violence, a little bit of suggestive stuff, a little bit of fluff i guess, and mild alcohol consumption. I think that's all but if i missed any, please let me know! also this is def loosely inspired by the movies 'Mr. and Mrs. Smith' and '10 Things I Hate About You'
Word Count: 5K
part 2
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ .
You hate the way he dresses.
You hate his stupid hair.
You hate the pet names he calls you.
You hate his voice.
You hate his hazel eyes.
You hate his smile.
You hate Logan Howlett.
It was no secret and neither was the fact that he couldn’t stand you either. You bickered like a married couple, constantly fought till you bled when you were training and couldn’t go a day without one of you insulting the other. Truthfully, it was probably because you were too alike - fire versus fire - and knew exactly how to press each other's buttons.
That’s why you were both confused when you stood in Charles’ office - dumbfounded expression on your faces - as he told you that he assigned you to a mission together.
“Oh, no way,” you nearly laughed, thinking it was a joke.
“Yeah, not happening,” Logan agreed. It may have been the only thing you’ve ever agreed on.
“That’s unfortunate for both of you, as I am sending you anyway. You are the only capable people that aren’t already out on an assignment or teaching a class full time.”
“How do you expect us to do it without killing each other?” you raised your eyebrows.
“You are adults. I trust you will navigate that on your own.”
Logan scoffed beside you, his arms crossed over his chest.
You sighed, closing your eyes in frustration and biting the bullet, “what do we have to do?”
“There is a safe hidden in the home of a very wealthy socialite who’s been involved in orchestrating attacks on mutants - injecting them with a serum that replaces their mutation gene with that of a normal human,” Charles began to explain.
Your chest felt heavy. It always made you anxious and a little ill when you’d hear the stories of people who hated you so much that they’d go as far as to harm or violate you in some way, all in the name of trying to rid the earth of you completely or turn you into one of them.
“The only known sample of the serum is locked in that safe,” he continued, “and I will need you to retrieve it. You are to infiltrate a gathering being held in her home, obtain the contents of the safe and return promptly.”
“So, we’re…going to a party?” Logan asked with one eyebrow raised.
“A dinner party,” Charles replied, “and another thing - you must not attend as yourselves. You’ve been invited on the good word of another guest - someone we trust - but you’ve been invited as a married couple to avoid arousing suspicion.”
He must’ve been getting some sick enjoyment from this.
“Married couple,” you repeated, your eyes narrowed, “Us. You want us to pretend to be a couple.”
“What, do I have to like - touch her? I’m not doing that,” Logan piped up.
“Oh, i’m so disappointed,” you rolled your eyes, sarcasm clear in your voice, “Fuck off.”
“You fuck off.”
“No, you fuck off.”
“No, you.”
“I said it first!”
“Enough,” Charles interrupted, “you will be attending as Mr. and Mrs. Smith.”
“Huh,” Logan hummed, “that’s creative.”
“Its inconspicuous,” he replied.
“What are our first names, then?”
“You have creative liberty. I trust you will come up with something just as unremarkable.”
“How about Sid and Nancy?” you scoffed, chuckling a little in disbelief.
“Does that mean I get to stab you?”
“You’d miss.”
Charles had his head in his hands.
“How about Jack and Jill?”
You both turned your heads to him when he spoke, pausing the back and forth between you that you were sure to continue later. You glanced at Logan and shrugged, indifferent to the names.
“That’ll work,” Logan mirrored your actions.
“Lovely. Tomorrow evening at five. I will have the address ready. In the meantime, here,” he opened his palm and placed two rings on the table, “these are your wedding bands.”
You huffed and took the smaller of the two, Logan picking up the plain silver band. Yours was simple - a false diamond in the middle and two smaller ones on each side.
“What, you couldn’t get me anything bigger?” you joked to Logan, holding up the ring.
“Oh, you want somethin’ big?”
Your eyes went wide and you elbowed him in the arm, groaning in disgust, “Gross.”
—----------------
Five o’clock came fast, your nerves seemingly increasing the speed of time. You’d made a mess of your wardrobe looking for something to wear that was comfortable, but not too ‘you’. What would a rich person wear to a dinner party? How the hell were you supposed to know?
Some nice pants, a blouse and complimenting shoes would have to do - it was the only thing you had that looked relatively formal. Adding some jewelry made it just a little more convincing.
You went down the stairs to meet Logan at the front door, dreading the coming hours. You turned the corner and finally saw him, leaned against the wall with his hands in his pockets. He wore a white t-shirt tucked into his jeans, his boots, and he’d traded his usual leather jacket for a suit jacket. He actually cleaned up pretty nice, but you weren’t gonna tell him that.
He heard your footsteps and turned towards the sound. He could feel the sweat starting to form at the back of his neck.
He’d never seen you in anything nice like that - you never really had any occasions to dress up for - and he hated how much he liked it. Your pants hugged you perfectly, your blouse was buttoned low and you even had on a little bit of makeup.
“You don’t look too bad,” he managed to comment, opening the door for you.
“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” you realized aloud, the both of you heading towards Logan’s truck, “You look alright.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Smith.”
He opened the car door for you, uncharacteristically gentlemen-like.
You shot him an odd look and got in anyway.
“I’m practicing,” He explained, shutting your door and walking around to slide into his seat, “can’t have anyone thinkin’ I’m a shit husband.”
“Good luck.”
“Uh-oh,” Logan had an amused expression, his eyes glued to the road as you began moving, “that’s not wife behavior, sunshine.”
“Bite Me.”
He clicked his tongue, “Feisty. Oh - I can use that when people ask about us! I’ll say it's one of your absolute worst qualities that any man would be repulsed by, but that our love is blind.”
You scoffed, “Great, and I’ll get to tell them you spend sixteen hours brushing your hair into cat ears and shed all over the bathroom like an animal.”
“See - now, that one seems a little personal.”
“It is.”
“Just pretend for a night that I’m the man of your dreams, okay?” he asked, “pretend I’m, uh - I don’t know, some celebrity guy you have a crush on.”
You were silent for a second, engrossed in thought, “you look nothing like Hugh Jackman.”
“Who? You know what - sure, pretend I'm him, alright? Just squint.”
Truthfully - and you’d rather be stabbed than admit it - Logan wasn’t far off from who you could picture yourself with. Strong, kind of handsome, good with kids. He was humble, most of the time. He was just terribly annoying and way too cocky.
It wasn’t long before he was shifting the truck into park and yanking the keys from the ignition. You let him open your door and walked beside him up the front steps.
“You ready, Jack?” you teased.
“Ready as I’ll ever be, Jill.”
He rang the doorbell and you stood awkwardly, eyes scanning your surroundings. The house was huge - probably only a bit smaller than the mansion - and modern, something probably built in the last ten years. The front lawn was impeccable, as were the marble statues strategically placed between foliage and flora.
The door opened and you inhaled sharply, trying to prepare yourself to lie your ass off.
“Hello! You must be Mr. and Mrs. Smith! So lovely to meet you, please - come in,” a woman ushered you in, her neck and ears decorated in pearls. You recognized her immediately, Charles having shown you both a picture of the hostess beforehand. You politely greeted her and introduced yourselves, already scanning the room for an emergency exit in case things went sour.
“So,” she continued talking, leading you to sit in the living room with the other mingling guests,”tell me a little about yourselves! John wasn’t very descriptive when he mentioned you. What do you do for work?”
Whoever John was, you silently thanked him.
“Uh, well,” you began, nervously glancing at Logan, “I’m a bank teller.”
Plain, boring, inconspicuous,
She then looked to Logan expectantly, awaiting his answer.
“Cage fighter.”
Jesus Christ. You were glaring daggers into the side of his smiling face and he pretended not to notice.
“Really?” the woman in front of you inquired, a hand on her chest. You watched her eyes scan him up and down, landing on the pecs prominent through his shirt. You scoffed out of instinct, faking a cough to cover it up.
‘Oh, yeah. Undefeated MMA champ.”
You looked away to hide the scowl on your face when your eyes locked on the vodka bottle sitting on the table a few feet away with a collection of other booze. Bingo.
“Will you excuse me for just a moment?” you smiled politely and walked away before Logan could protest, leaving him to his own devices.
You twisted the top off the bottle and picked up a glass, filling it with Vodka and some soda that was left on the table.You almost walked away with it, planning to keep it in your hands until you felt your nerves subside, until you remembered you were supposed to be a wife. Wives brought their husbands drinks, right? Not doing so would look rude and rude might blow your cover. So, you reluctantly picked up another glass and filled it partially with whiskey, knowing it was something he’d drink. You happened to glance across to the kitchen and notice a neat little rack of spices and condiments on the counter. A bottle of soy sauce was front and center, like a message from the universe, and you giggled to yourself as you snatched the bottle and hid it up your sleeve - this could be a good night if you made it entertaining.
You returned to Logan with both glasses, handing him the one filled with significantly darker liquid. He looked a little surprised but accepted it anyway.
“Thank you, sweetheart,” he said with narrowed eyes, a look that asked ‘what are you up to now?’
You simply nodded in acknowledgement, smiling at the hostess still standing in front of you.
“She’s a keeper,” he continued, holding the glass up to his mouth, “ always knows exactly what I like.”
You bit back a snicker as you watched him tilt the glass and finally take a sip.
His eyes went to yours immediately. He pulled the glass from his lips, mouth still obviously full of whiskey and soy sauce. If looks could kill, you’d be long dead.
“Good, honey?” you smiled wide then, taking a sip of your own drink.
“Mhm,” he hummed, clearly fighting a grimace. He swallowed and nearly gagged, coughing into his fist, “mhm, just a little strong.”
“Oh,” the hostess began, “Jack was just about to tell us how you met!”
A couple of guests had gathered in the same spot, all lingering in a semicircle. Logan was quite the charmer and it wasn’t a surprise that he already had a couple of women gawking at him, hanging on his every word as if any of it was true.
“Was he?” your tone was shrill but you attempted to appear playful, lightly smacking him on the arm, “Oh, honey, you should really let me tell it.”
Whatever he was about to come up with, you hoped it was not in the same outlandish category as cage fighting. Before you could begin, though, he dismissively waved his hand in your direction.
“No, no - you’re a little forgetful, sweetheart,” his grin was mischievous as he turned to speak to the surrounding guests, “so, it all started with a tshirt competition at a bar where the girls had to - “
“Nope! Nope,” you interjected, doing your best to keep your tone light and shaking your head, “haha - that must have been another girl, honey!”
That earned a few chuckles from the guests around you and you took the opportunity while everyone's attention was on you to try and spin a tale of your own.
“So, we actually met a couple years ago,” you started, mulling over what true details to sprinkle in or if you should make it up entirely, “uh - in a library.”
It wasn’t entirely untrue. You’d been at the mansion for a couple days before you bumped into him in the library while gathering books to try and put together your first lesson plan. You had a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of books in the other - admittedly stupid - but you’d always been careful. Except for that once.
You had a book open in your arms, resting atop the stack you already gathered. You were walking and reading - again, admittedly not very smart - when you bumped into someone, spilling coffee on both of you and sending the stack of books to the floor with an audible thump.
“Fuck, sorry -” you began to apologize, finally looking up to the strangers face. It was Logan, of course, though you didn’t know that at the time. You remember thinking he was handsome with his scruffy mutton chops and well groomed hair - until he opened his mouth.
“What the hell is wrong with you, kid?”
You knew it was partially your fault but were irked by his attitude.
“Dude, you weren’t paying attention either, obviously!” you snapped back, looking down at the beige stain now adorning your white button up.
“I’m not the one who carries coffee and a shit ton of books at the same time.”
“Whatever.”
That was your grand introduction, neither of you even exchanging names.
Logan remembered it about the same way you did, though the version he tells is a little different. He loved to tell people that when you bumped into him, it was because you were so lovestruck that you just walked right into him. The part he always left out, though, was the first thing he thought when he saw you. He’d scolded you before even looking up to see who you were and when he had, he wished he’d reacted a little differently.
You were beautiful, even with coffee spilt all over yourself. You looked like a girl he’d only ever dreamed of, all the way down to the color of your hair and eyes. Unfortunately, he’d already been an asshole. So, from then on, that was basically your shtick - bickering over little things, calling each other names - all to the amusement of everyone around you. It wasn’t meant to be funny, but it was obvious to everyone else that the kind of teasing you did was only because you had feelings for one another - like two elementary school kids - and neither one of you seemed to know how to approach it. The mask would slip sometimes for either one of you - when he’d place a hand on your lower back, the times he’d managed to pin you to the mat during training - and you’d always find yourself staring at the ceiling that night, overthinking every interaction you’d had until the sun came up. He was never any better off, pacing in his room to try and decipher what the hell it was he actually felt for you.
Anyway, you decided to stick to the real story, minus the part where you insulted each other.
“We bumped into each other, literally, and I had coffee and a bunch of books in my arms. So, I drop the books, coffee spills everywhere - of course. Then I looked up at him, and..” you paused, the truth caught in a lump in your throat.
“And it was love at first sight,” Logan added, grinning down at you, “for both of us.”
His eyes were trained on yours and he continued to contribute to the story.
“The second I saw her, I fell in love.”
He was still looking at you. Why was he still looking at you like that? You were supposed to be husband and wife, right, but he was leaning into it far heavier than you expected. It felt like you were the only ones in the room.
A couple ‘aw’s were shared between guests and you smiled politely at the reminder that you were in fact not the only people in the room. As the conversation switched to another topic and someone else began to speak, you felt Logan’s hand at the back of your head, gently playing with your hair. Your face was pink - he was being too nice.
A short while later, you were sitting on the couch beside him, listening to someone’s drawn out story that you stopped paying attention to after six minutes.
“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Logan uttered unceremoniously and stood from the couch. He disappeared into the house and not even a minute later, another guy came to sit in his spot.
“Hey,” he put his arm around the back of the couch, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, “I don’t think we’ve met.”
You looked at the fingers grazing your shoulder and sat forward to shrug them off, “nope.”
He told you his name and you couldn’t have cared any less, deciding to actually tune back into the story being told rather than converse with him. He was alright looking, but his approach was far too off putting.
“So, did you come alone?”
You rolled your eyes at his question, opening your mouth to answer before he cut you off.
“Cause It looks like it, and I can’t stand to see a pretty girl alone.”
You groaned in disgust, hoping if you were dry enough in your answers, he’d leave you be.
“mhm.”
It wasn’t really an answer to anything, just a noise of affirmation. You hoped he’d get the hint then, but of course, he didn’t. In what would probably be the stupidest thing he’d done that night, the guy moved his arm from the back of the couch so he could squeeze your thigh. Right as you were about to tell him to fuck off, you saw a hand grip his shoulder from behind. Logan was leaning over the sofa, bringing his face a little lower so he wouldn’t cause a scene, his dog tags hanging when he leaned forward. He had a death grip on the guy's shoulder while he used his other hand to steady himself against the sofa.
“Hey, bub.”
The guy looked a little terrified, to say the least, but Logan didn’t let up there.
“Do you always go around hittin’ on people’s wives? Or is it just mine?”
His eyes were wide and he looked like he wanted to run but that wasn’t going to happen as long as he was in his grip.
“I-I didn’t, uh, I didn’t know she - “ the guy sputtered, trying to nervously laugh it off.
“Mhm. Hey, tell you what - why don’t you leave my girl alone and maybe I’ll give you a five minute head start to get the fuck out of here.”
He let go of his shoulder and that was enough to drive him away, the guy scurrying to his feet and finding somewhere else to mingle.
You didn’t know why you found yourself smiling the moment he’d said ‘my girl’. You rid yourself of it with a shake of your head, reminding yourself you were there to do a job.
“Hey,” Logan leaned himself down even further so he could whisper, “I gotta show you something, c’mere.”
You quirked an eyebrow at him but got up to follow. He stopped in the hallway in front of the bathroom, looked around to see if anyone would notice you, and promptly dragged you in with him before closing and locking the door. He hit the light switch and you looked around.
“Do you always take girls to the bathroom on first dates?” you teased, crossing your arms.
“You’d have to go out with me to find out,” he remarked, “besides, it’s not like that. Look.”
You watched him get low to the ground to open the cupboard under the sink and you crouched with him, following his pointing finger to the wood paneling in the back. It looked like a fake back - a board that appeared to be the back of the cabinet but definitely had something behind it. There was a sliver of metal visible behind it when you shined your phone’s flashlight.
“I figured we should look everywhere, so while I was in here I was checking it out - saw that. You think that’s it?”
“Could be,” you answered honestly, “that, or it’s some sort of electrical box we’re about to rip out of the wall. It’s an odd hiding spot for a safe.”
“Not really. Think about it - where's the first place you’d look for a safe?”
“Bedroom or office, maybe.”
“Right, and where's one of the last places you’d check?” he gestured to the open cabinet.
“Under…the sink,” you realized aloud, looking between him and the wooden board.
“Exactly,” he nodded, swiping the contents of the cabinet onto the floor to gain access, “here’s the thing, though - I’m too big to get in there.”
He could maybe stick his head in, but in order to duck under the pipes from the sink, he’d need to have shoulders that were much less broad.
You sighed, knowing what that meant.
“Alright, alright - move. This better be it.”
You reluctantly crawled under the sink and into the cabinet on your hands and knees. You yanked the wooden board with all your strength and it came free, revealing a metal safe.
“Got it! You were right, it’s the safe.”
Logan simply hummed in response, clearing his throat. You figured he’d be a little more enthusiastic.
Truthfully, he was too busy staring at your ass in the nice pants you were wearing to pay attention. When he heard your voice, he shook his head, as if to rid himself of the thoughts he was having about you so he could think of a response. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but seeing you all dressed up drove him a little crazy.
“Yeah? Is it locked?”
You inspected the metal box, holding the absurdly large padlock hooked around the latch that opened the door.
“Uh-huh. Padlock - we’re gonna need the numbers.”
“No, we don’t. Bring it out.”
You did as you were told, crawling back out with the safe under your arm and placing it on the bathroom rug. It was a pretty small one - probably a little bigger than a basketball.
Logan picked it up and set it on the counter beside the sink. He unsheathed a claw and sliced through the metal latch that held the door closed in one swift motion.
“Well, yeah - that's one way to do it,” you shrugged.
“Easiest way to do it.”
He reached in and took out the small glass vial. He put it inside the pocket of his suit jacket.
“What if it falls out?” you asked.
“It won’t.”
“How do you know?”
“Alright, kid,” he sighed, “what do you want me to do with it? ‘Cause i’m sure as hell not lettin’ you carry it.”
You rolled your eyes and looked him over.
“How about you wrap it in your jacket, like cushioning?”
“Fine.”
He reluctantly shrugged off his jacket, keeping the vial in the pocket but folding the jacket into a ball. You hastily replaced everything in the cabinet, safe included, and you followed Logan as he opened the door to step out - only to be met with another guest, her fist raised to knock.
“Oh! Dear,” she chuckled, clearly a little startled. She looked to the both of you, a grin appearing on her face, “Young love, what a gift. Don’t worry, I didn't see a thing!”
You shot her a confused look, chuckling nervously before you happened to catch a glance of your reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Your hair was mussed and your blouse was untucked on one side from having to bend up and down. Logan had taken off his suit jacket and you realized what it was she was implying.
“Oh, oh - we weren’t -”
“It’s alright, honey,” she responded as you stepped out, “like I said - my lips are sealed.”
She shot you both a wink, went into the bathroom and shut the door.
“She thought we were fucking in there,” you mumbled, eyes wide in embarrassment.
“Is that so bad?”
You snapped your head towards him, a confused look on your face, “what?”
Logan shrugged, “we're supposed to be husband and wife, aren't we?”
You shook your head in disbelief and decided to ignore him, both of you joining the other guests back in the living room. Dinner was finally ready and everyone took their seats in the dining room. There were a couple of things on the table you couldn’t even pronounce.
“Is that…meat? A vegetable?” you leaned over to logan, whispering behind your hand and nodding towards one of the dishes.
“Hell if I know,” he muttered, “I don’t think I wanna find out.”
You both piled on the few things onto your plates, poking at it with your forks.
“Do you wanna get a pizza after this?” you whispered.
“Definitely,” he replied, pushing around an unrecognizable sludge with his utensil.
“So, how long did you two say you’ve been together?” You both looked up, only to be met with the hostess’ stare. You had never mentioned how long you’d been ‘together’. Her smile was polite but her stare was piercing, as if she knew something she was not supposed to.
“About three years,” you replied, looking to him for back up.
“We got married a couple months in,” he added, grinning at you. Again, he had that look - like he wasn’t just pretending to be in love with you.
“We were in this restaurant - this little place we go to all the time,” he kept talking, “and I just told her I thought she was beautiful, that I wanted to be with her for the rest of my life.”
“Really? I have to say,” she began, sipping from her glass,” for a young couple who got together so quickly, you two don’t seem very affectionate towards each other.”
Shit. Shit, shit, shit.
You shot Logan a panicked look, but he appeared unbothered.
“Ah,” he clicked his tongue,” it’s this rule she’s got about PDA. I’d be all over her if I could.”
You hated the way your face became hot. You couldn’t tell if he was leaning into it to be convincing or flirting just to make you flustered. You heard a muffled snicker from somewhere across the table and your eyes shifted to the source - it was the woman from earlier, the one who’d thought you and Logan were getting busy in the bathroom.
“Can I at least get a kiss, babe?” Logan cooed, a smug look on his face.
“What are you doing?” you whispered, eyes wide.
“Being a husband,” he replied in a hush voice.
It all happened within seconds. His hands cupped your face, warm and soft, and he leaned in to plant a kiss right on your lips. It was gentle and you melted into his touch, kissing him back. When he pulled away, you were still stunned, your lips parted in surprise.
Logan kissed you.
His lips tasted like the remnants of cigar smoke. His touch was nearly intoxicating, like you were drunk off just the way he held you. You inhaled sharply and finally turned your face out of his grip, eyes glued to the table cloth. You had almost forgotten where you were - feeling like the room was spinning - and you let out a nervous laugh.
The topic of discussion moved on quickly and it seemed like any suspicion the hostess had about either of you had dissipated. You and Logan decided to say your goodbyes immediately after dinner, making some excuse about having to wake up early the next morning. When you stepped out and he shut the door behind him, you couldn’t hold your tongue any longer.
“What the hell was that?” you spat, eyebrows knitted.
“What was what?”
He was completely nonchalant as he continued to walk next to you towards his truck.
“You kissed me.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t have to.”
He stopped with you at the passenger side of the truck, standing in front of the door so you couldn’t get in.
“What if I wanted to?”
You swallowed hard. It was dead silent outside, save for the chirping of crickets.
“What?”
“I wanted to,” he admitted, chewing his bottom lip, “I wanted to kiss you.”
You didn't know what to say. He hated you, didn’t he?
“Logan, I - “
“You can’t tell me you didn’t feel anything in there, pretending to be together.”
His voice almost sounded strained, like he was pleading.
“You don’t even like me, you hate me,” you deflected, but he shook his head.
“That’s not true. I never hated you. I figured you’d hate me after I acted like an asshole when we met, so I went with it. I don’t hate you. I think you’re funny, I think you’re pretty - I just never really knew how to tell you that.”
When you only stared in response, he moved aside and opened your door with a defeated sigh. You were still speechless but you hesitantly slid into the seat anyway, letting him close the door. When he got into the driver's side and started the ignition, you couldn’t stop looking over at him.
“So, you like me,” you finally said aloud.
He kept his eyes glued to the road when he responded in a low voice, “why do you think I bother you so much?”
“You pick on me because you like me? Like a little kid?” you couldn’t help the amusement in your voice as your confused expression turned to a smile.
You saw him bite back a smile that mirrored yours, shaking his head.
“I guess you could say that.”
“Well, you’re not too bad, you know, and I guess you’re kind of handsome.”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhm, but don’t make me take it back.”
The rest of the short ride home was spent in comfortable silence, both of you seemingly trying to figure out where you’d go from there. When Logan parked his truck and got out, he came around your side to open your door. You hopped out and he shut the door for you, but grabbed your hand before you started to walk away.
“Hey, c’mere for a second.”
You let him pull you a little closer, intertwining both your hands. The evening air was chilly and you could see his breath in the air when he spoke.
“Can I kiss you, for real this time?”
You could feel your heart beating fast and you nodded eagerly. The second you did, his lips were already on yours. His hands let go of yours to settle in your hair, threading the strands between his fingers. His touch felt warm in comparison to the cold air and you leaned further into him with your hands gripping his jacket to pull him close. When he pulled away, he rested his hands on your waist and planted another kiss on your forehead.
“Maybe we could, uh, try again,” he cleared his throat, running his hands up and down your sides, “be nice to each other this time.”
Truthfully, you couldn’t hate Logan, even though you tried.
You couldn’t hate his perfect hair.
You couldn’t hate his sweet voice.
You couldn’t hate his kind smile.
You couldn’t hate the way he dressed.
You just couldn’t hate Logan Howlett.
So, you kissed him again, smiling against his lips and letting him hold you as close as possible, almost lifting you off the ground with his arms around you.
“We should probably go inside, huh?” you mumbled when you leaned back, lightly scratching the mutton chops on the side of his face in an affectionate manner. Those were another thing you’d pretended to hate - probably because you were embarrassed to admit you thought he pulled them off well.
“As you wish, Mrs. Smith.”
He held his hand out for you to take and you did, eyeing the ring on your finger.
“You know,” you held up your hand to show him the jewelry, “I think i’ll keep this.”
He grinned, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a chaste kiss, “I think i'll keep mine, too.”
You were both still holding hands when you went inside, blushing like two little kids. You were so engrossed in one another that you didn’t notice Jean and Ororo in the hallway ahead of you as he leaned down to kiss you again. Now that he knew he could actually do it, he couldn’t help himself.
“I’ll take it your night went well,” Ororo giggled, Jean doing the same. You jumped a little in surprise, covering your pink face in mild embarrassment.
“What changed? I thought you hated each other,” the latter of the two asked.
“Eh, he’s not so bad,” you teased, shrugging your shoulders.
‘’Turns out, we make a pretty good fake husband and wife,” he explained, “I guess we got a little too carried away with it.”
As the two of you walked hand in hand further down the hall, Ororo elbowed Jean lightly, leaning over to whisper behind her hand.
“You owe me twenty bucks.”
・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆・˳ . ⋆ .˳⁺⁎˚ ⋆
A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you sm for reading!! I wasn't sure if I wanted to keep this as is or add smut so I'll leave it how it is and if enough people ask for it, I can make a part two <3 pls reblog and like if you enjoyed/want more and my inbox is always open :)
Edit: here is the link to part 2!
#wolverine#logan howlett#wolverine x reader#logan howlett x reader#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine fic#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fic#logan howlett smut#logan howlet smut#wolverine smut#logan wolverine
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had a dream about an episode where robin was confirmed canon trans got mad when i woke up
#/hj#i did have that dream but canon doesnt matter its what matters in my heart#robin#like there was. something in the house and allison had to explain the flag and he was like oh like me lol#and everyone was shocked and then trying to be super sensitive and supportive and stuff but like?? its been 400000#years?? he does not care one bit didnt even know they thought it was different in modern times. he gets to give another wise lecture#fanny gets a whole arc in the course of an episode about accepting peoples differences and loving your family while robin is fuckin around#kitty is probably like. Oh wow What if im trans! Maybe thomas too. julian knew already. For reasons (WHO SAID THAT!!!)#oh we are a bit past the actual dream now these are just expanded thoughts#bbc would never air this obviously but it lives in my heart. Maybe i write a fic.. who knows#tbh tho i have queer genderfucked headcanons for all the characters so …
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At this point I am convinced some people are watching this show solely via the subtitle files, because that's the only thing that explains drastically misunderstanding everything that's not spelled out in dialogue to this extent.
Honestly some of the most embarrassing mass failure of media literacy I've ever seen. It's not even complicated stuff, it's basic text comprehension and story fluency.
- No, Caitlyn's "I know!" is not anger at being called out; she's saying she is very, very painfully aware of what she's done wrong. Watch it again.
- No she didn't take the guards away or go to the cell to have sex with Vi. TF?!?
It was Vi who initiated; Caitlyn was surprised she did.
She pulled the guards away to help Vi if/when she chose to do what she knows her well enough to know she probably would. Vi makes her choice - Caitlyn doesn't "let" her, she just supports it, because it's Vi's choice to make.
Vi has no idea she's done this until after, it doesn't affect her "agency" at all. That's not what any of those words mean!
- She did this as a direct acknowledgement of and response to Vi's previous criticisms.
You are supposed to be able to make the very, very minimal leap of imagination required to understand what the show is telling you here; that she is genuinely sorry, genuinely committed to getting her shit together, and that she has heard and received every word that Vi has told her.
The reason this gesture is so important is that it demonstrates she's now going out on a limb to put herself, her resources, and her privilege to work for the greater good.
And the reason Vi reacts the way she does is that she understands all of this immediately.
You should not need the show to sit you down and spell this out to you step by step Barney the Dinosaur style.
- She works very hard and sacrifices quite a lot to try to do right by people after fucking up so badly before, but not before very explicitly acknowledging that she can't undo the harm she's already done. And this isn't even an inference thing, she actually even says this bit out loud twice, and you still somehow missed it.
- For $5, what do you think the show was suggesting by having Sevika take up her seat, her final costume have no Enforcer uniform elements, and having her allude to an ongoing struggle. Come on, guess.
I am loathe to call people stupid just because some tv show stuff sailed over their heads, but... y'all are legitimately testing that. This is not exactly The Holy Mountain or something, it is very straightforward storytelling.
And just... I mean why would you be this loud about anything without making sure you didn't have it ass backways first?!? In public!?!? 💀
You guys, you have to watch shows to know what is happening in them.
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My favorite part is that apart from mass winning, this doesn’t directly correspond to population. Connecticut has more people than Maine and Vermont combined and yet falls handily behind both. Even worse for New Hampshire which should have slightly more than Maine and significantly more than VT by population and yet is miles behind both in this poll.
Even if you redistribute the “why would you do this” votes based on population, CT and NH still can’t climb past the Green Mountain State or Vacationland.
#as it should be by the way#at least as regards ct#apparently i cant say ‘no one’ likes since at least 59 people do at time of writing#but ct is consistently clowned on my ma and ny#the one thing we can agree on lmao#as i partially insinuated with the official state nicknames above i suspect the reason for vt and me’s disproportionate success is tourism#non new englanders are more likely to go camping in maine or skiing in vermont#which makes them great destinations if you already know what you want to do#whereas the interesting parts of southern new england are not really the kind of the people would drive very far to see#stuff like museums and historic sights#and universities which people do travel a long distance for#but which don’t inspire the same kind of broad positivity as leisure activities like the above mentioned#doesn’t explain new hampshire underperforming though#i feel like nh is known for its mountains and lakes#i guess it doesn’t have as strong of a vacation territory identity as the others#people probably think about libertarians as much as lakes as part of new hampshire#idk. i honestly dont know what people outside new england think of us#except that new yorkers think they’re better than us#and the boston accent = comedy for many
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