#and never that im actually fucking correct about the shit i talk about. like maybe its just really fucking hard to control their population

[snekdood]

Your impulse to believe every last bad thing people say about a guy and then if that guy is victimized by those people or the people who spread the rumors you dont even try to look into if thats even the case, you just assume hes bad by default-- yeah thats incredibly unfair to guys who are victims of abuse.

[look-at-the-stars-tonight]

I ran this morning AND wrote some AND made art and I’m so proud of me

[darkestwings-hellishsoul]

Love finding out who at my job is a closet racist

(so i can be rude to them of course)

[areyouwell]

Sciophobia

Noun: An extreme fear of shadows. An adult or child with Sciophobia may experience extreme stress and anxiety in everyday life due to the nature of light and shadow.

Ch.2

Ch.1 <---

Pairing: Logan Howlett x F!Mutant!Reader

Warnings: the most DISGUSTING, tooth-achingly sweet fluff, like candyfloss-style shit. i vomited twice writing it and once again proofreading it. they make pasta together for TWO THOUSAND WORDS so if that ain't yer thing im sorry the good stuff will start soon. and by that i mean body horror. i threw up writing that for a completely different reason...

Word count: 11k (strap in and strap on folks)

A/N: as mentioned in the warnings, this is almost pure fluff. sure there's MC rage so strong my timbers were shivered but other than that it's mostly fluff. i want you guys to know, i am setting us all up for failure, because this WILL get sad. but it'll get hot first, then downright filthy, the a little disgusting before it gets sad, we got a while to go so booties ch.2 LFG

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit

“Maybe just try… concentrating harder?” 

It took all of your willpower not to cross the few steps it would take to punch Scott’s lights out. Why the Professor assigned him to help with your training, you’d never know. Sure, it wasn’t like you were constantly at each other’s throats like he and Logan seemed to be, but you never exactly saw eye to eye either. Scott was too… neat, for you. He liked rules too much, always following what his head told him he should do, rather than following his heart or gut. It was infuriating on missions, and you’d had plenty of arguments about the correct course of action before he became the de facto leader whether you liked it or not. 

That was shortly before you went away, so you didn’t really have much time to experience the dictatorship of Scott Summers, and now you were back, you weren’t entirely sure you wanted to. 

“Ya know what Scott? I’d never thought of doing that, thanks!” you bit sarcastically, sweat beading along your brow. You’d been at this for well over an hour now, hour two fast approaching with no progress. You’d successfully shadow-walked, though Cyclops noted your hesitation to do so. But could he blame you? The idea of shadow-walking and then suddenly not having the strength to pull yourself back together, or whatever it was you did, was quite frankly, terrifying. 

Scott sighed, placing a hand on his hip and running the other through his hair. “Alright, take ten, I’ll talk to the Professor.” He said, already making his way towards the iron doors. You let loose a frustrated breath, bracing your hands across the back of your neck. This was hopeless. Utterly hopeless. What’s worse, is that there was no proof you could actually do those things. No proof that was the Professor was saying was fucking true. 

You were glad the back wall was cast in shadow as you stormed across the floor, sending your fist careening into the metalwork, instantly regretting your outburst when the crack of your split knuckles rang out louder than the punch itself. Clamping your lips between your teeth to stop yourself from crying out, you let yourself breathe through the pain, savouring it just slightly. It was good. Pain was good. It reminded you how you weren’t just a pile of shadows wandering aimlessly through the air yet. You doubted you could feel a broken hand if you didn’t have a hand to feel with. 

Turning your back to the wall, you slid down to the floor, head buried between your knees with your arms casing you in, throbbing hand gripping your opposite shoulder tightly. You wouldn’t cry. You would. Not. Cry. That wasn’t you. You don’t cry. Since when did you cry?

This was how Logan found you. He’d been stuck in a meeting with Xavier and Storm all morning, going over the blueprints of the latest rescue mission the team would embark on. Though in all honesty, he was barely listening, his thoughts disobediently drifting back to you. The memory of your smile, the teasing lilt in your voice, the way your arms felt wrapped around his neck, the scent of your hair invading his heightened nose. He wondered how you were getting on with Scott, and he pitied the fact you were having to do this with Scott. That was until the man of the hour walked through the doors, disrupting the meeting and finally releasing him back into the world. 

It’s no wonder his feet led him straight to you, you’d been on his mind that much. So to see you like this, curled up against the opposite wall, your hand an angry red, it tugged at his heart. 

You didn’t seem to notice him as he crossed the room, only looking up when he kicked the gym mat with his foot. There was that smile again. The one that didn’t reach your eyes and only serve to fool people who were fucking idiots into thinking you were okay. 

The last person you expected to see walk through those doors was Logan. Last you’d heard, he was stuck in a meeting with Charles and Ororo. Scott was initially furious he’d been asked to help develop your mutation instead of intent ‘crucial strategy meetings’ so he called them, but he soon lightened up when you not-so-subtly reminded him it’s because Charles thought he was the best option to help you. 

You sighed heavily, bracing your good hand on your knee as you rose to your feet. For Logan to see you in such a sorry state wasn’t high on your list of priorities. You were pretty sure it wasn’t on that list at all. 

“Not goin’ well?” he asked softly, and you had to grit your teeth to stop yourself from tearing up. You watched his eyes flicker from your face to your hand, thick brows pinching in concern. You followed his line of sight, not that you needed to, you could fucking feel your knuckles pulsing fire up your arm. 

“Uh, no, not really. I’d love to say I did this punching Scott, but he left before I could, so I took it out on the wall instead.” You half smiled, and Logan found himself blowing out a huff of laughter. Even in this state, in this mindset, you could still find humour. 

Sinking your hand into the shadows across the wall behind you, you felt the familiar tingle of, what you now know was your body breaking apart, before the slight itch of pulling it back together as you dragged it back out, good as new. 

Logan thought for a moment, hazel eyes flicking from you to the shadows behind you. “Have you tried–”

“If you’re about to say ‘concentrating harder’ I might have to hurt you.” You interrupted, much to his amusement.

“I’m assumin’ that’s what Scott said?”

“Word for fucking word,” you said with a slight lopsided smile. Now that one reached your eyes. 

Logan took a few steps forward, now borderline pinning you against the wall. If it wasn’t for his hearing, he would have missed the way your breath hitched slightly, the slight shudder in your exhale. He chalked it down to your apprehension toward your situation. He had to. Giving himself hope like that just led to a shit load of hurt.

“What I was goin’ to say, was have ya tried from in there?” he raised a brow, his eyes looking past you and at the wall behind, and you had to take a minute to remember what you were talking about, his proximity all but throwing all and any thought out the window. It was achingly familiar to yesterday in the kitchen.

“You might be onto something…” you breathed when you remembered how to form words. Now you were thinking about it, he could be right. Why on earth were you trying to call the shadows to you, when you could drag them out with you? However, the idea of once again disappearing into shadow didn’t fill you with the same sense of freedom it once did. 

And Logan could see it. The hesitation, apprehension. You’d told him you were scared last night, but this was the first time he’d seen it. “I’ll be right here, yeah?” Fuck the way you looked at him shattered his heart. You wanted to be brave, you wanted to have the same sense of wonder you always did when it came to your mutation. He looked at the clench of your jaw, the flare of your nostrils as you nodded. 

“Alright… don’t go anywhere.” you half-joked, sliding your hands down the cool wall behind you, feeling your skin tingle at the mere idea of disappearing into the darkness. 

“Where would I go? You’re right here.” Logan responded, placing his index finger on the centre of your forehead and pushing ever so slightly. It gave you enough courage to fall back into the darkness, feeling the release of those threads holding your corporeal body together. 

Logan wasn’t really sure why he said that and he hoped to fuck you were too nervous about this whole thing to actually register what he’d said. He breathed out a sigh of relief when he watched you fold into the shadow, taking a few steps back and looking at his watch. Any longer than three minutes and he’ll start to think this was a really bad idea. Though, he probably should have told you that before you disappeared. 

Fuck.

It was always a strange sensation. Your consciousness was still intact, but the rest of your body had disappeared, scattered into a million different pieces. Probably billions. You couldn’t see, but you didn’t need to. You could sense. Sense the layout of the room. Sense where the shadows begin and where they end. Everything became nothing, and it was freedom. Quieting your thoughts, you concentrated. Concentrated on pulling. It was the same itching sensation you felt when leaving the shadows, except you tried to ground yourself.

Ground yourself in a place that had literally no ground.

This was fucking impossible.

You felt yourself slipping, the shadows around you not knowing what it was you were asking. Did the shadows have consciousness too? You didn’t know. Who fucking knew? And you didn’t fucking care. You tried to concentrate again, pulling against those threads you used to bring yourself from one place to the other toward you.

And only succeeding in moving again. Walking. This was no fucking different to what you’ve always done. Just moving from one point to the next. You’d already fucking mastered that. 

But at least one good thing had come from this. You weren’t afraid anymore. 

You were fucking angry.

Your consciousness writhed like a ball of angry vipers, pulling at all and any threads you could sense around you, flicking from one place to another with no rhyme or reason, no direction. 

If you could scream, you would have done. If you could lash out, you would have done. Rage rippled through your senses, those threads around you thrashing and flailing. Useless. Fucking useless. Maybe this was the fate you deserved. Disappearing into nothing, being nothing. Maybe you did deserve it. 

But you wouldn’t fucking accept it. Not yet.

This is “–fucking POINTLESS!” you roared, stepping from the shadow, your body itching all over, buzzing with adrenaline, your back almost burning. Your eyes took time to adjust to the light again, but you were too furious to register anything. “What’s the fucking point? Nothing works! I can’t pull them toward me, I can’t pull them with me, this is fucking stupid!” you continued your tirade, almost feeling the physical weight of your failure heavy upon your shoulders. “I can’t fucking do it, so why bother trying? It’s been a day and I’m already sick of this shit!” you heaved, breath searing your newly formed lungs, sending shockwaves of fire through your shoulder blades. You couldn’t remember a time when you’d been this angry. “If this stupid fucking mutation doesn’t kill me I’ll do it myself I swear to fucking god and what the FUCK are you smiling at Logan?!” You bellowed, your eyes finally registering what they were seeing. 

Logan had probably the world’s most gorgeous smile, and you wished you weren’t too pissed off to appreciate it. But before he had time to answer, Scott and Charles entered the room, Scott dropped a mug of what looked like freshly brewed coffee straight onto the floor, the shattering of the ceramic lingering in the air as the room fell deadly silent. 

“What?” you asked, now slightly fearful as the three men peered at you, each with a different expression. Scott seemed utterly horrified, his jaw slack and agape. Charles looked almost smug, a knowing smile pulling at his lips. And Logan?

Logan just grinned at you, arms folded across his chest. “You did it,” he whispered, nodding to what you thought was the wall behind you. Your eyes lingered on his as you turned your head, finally looking at what everyone else in the room seemed to be seeing. 

Honestly, you were fucking shocked you didn’t notice. At least now the burning in your shoulder blades had an explanation. 

Two broad, rippling wings of pure shadow spread wide from your back, the darkness almost pulsing along with your rapid heartbeat. It felt good, and you noted the lack of pressure about your body. Those threads that seemed constantly under strain had loosened, seemingly constantly fed by the shadows at your back. 

You slowly pulled at the strings, watching the wings move and shift with your intentions. Your fury dissolved as you watched in complete awe, along with the three others in the room. They folded close to your back and you felt the buzzing of energy against your leg, before you extended them again to their full size, tips grazing either side of the room. 

“Wh… H-how?” Scott managed to stutter, taking a cautious step forward. You looked from your shadows to Cyclops. 

“It, uh, it was Logan’s idea. Pull them out with me rather than trying to pull them towards me…” you were still reeling, slowly extending your fingers before trying to move the rest of your body. You didn’t know how much concentration it was taking to keep them intact, and you were a little afraid of letting them slip. Your breath came heavy as if you’d run around the estate at least four times. 

Logan looked back at Scott, unable to help his ‘fuck you’ brow raise. And to his satisfaction, Scott clicked his tongue in irritation. He turned back to you when he heard your slight laugh, clearly having noticed the silent exchange between them.

“How did you even know about this?” Scott asked accusingly.

“She told me.” Logan retorted as if it was the most obvious response on the planet. Scott just stood there in shock.

“She… she told you? She told you. As in, the one over there?” Cyclops pointed at you and you flipped him off in return.

“Yeah? Who else would we be talkin’ ‘bout?”

“It’s just, she doesn’t tend to… do that,”

“She is right fucking here!” you held your arms up, gesturing to yourself in a way that thankfully returned the boys’ attention back to the situation at hand. 

“Yeah well, this is all well and good,” Scott continued, crouching now to pick up the larger pieces of the shattered mug, “but how do you release them?” he finished. 

He had a point. You couldn’t wander around the school with two giant wings stuck to your back, as much as you wanted to. How would you get through the doorways? Xavier wheeled forward until he was next to Logan, his face now much more serious.

“Carefully. Release it too quickly and the threads could go with them,”

“Wouldn’t that just mean she would be back in the shadow?” Logan asked, slight concern lacing his baritone voice. There was a catch here, and every single one of you knew it. 

“Ordinarily yes, however, she cannot disappear into her own shadow. If she releases those threads anywhere other than back to its original form, there’s a risk of her disappearing with it and getting stuck,” He explained, to nobody’s understanding. You knew you couldn’t disappear into your own shadow, you’d tried before and your body simply wouldn’t let you. 

“So wait… I can pull the shadow with me but have to return it to where it was, essentially?” you asked, slowly so that your question could be understood, even by yourself. Charles nodded, and you took a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. 

Logan couldn’t help but feel partly to blame for this. He’d encouraged you to take this step, to try alternate methods of developing your mutation, and now he had, you were stuck like this until you felt sure you could release it carefully. Shit.

‘She made it this far because of you. We have a chance at changing her fate because of you, Logan. You cannot regret that.’ It was always jarring when the Professor found his way into his head, and it wasn’t the least bit soothing. What did ease him a little, however, was your slight reassuring smile, renewed with confidence. 

You could see he was battling with guilt, terrified that he may have endangered you. But you could do this. You’d already managed to achieve something you never thought you could today, what’s one more miracle?

“Hooookay, let’s try this… carefully, right?” it was a rhetorical question because honestly? You were a little scared, and stalling seemed to give you time to collect your thoughts and calm your slightly stuttering heart.

“Carefully,” Charles instructed, and you nodded once before taking another deep breath. Holding it for a few moments, you tightened the threads you hoped to fuck were holding you together, keeping them in place before blowing out the breath, releasing your connection to the wings behind your back. You felt them bleed down your shoulders, shivering slightly as the shadows snaked down your legs and back against the wall behind you, returning to their original state. 

You’d closed your eyes at some point, honestly, you couldn’t remember when. You were scared to open them, scared to see if you’d fucked anything up, if parts of your body were just completely shadow, or whether you had accidentally grown multiple limbs or something. You knew your mind was running away from you, but you couldn’t help it, as ridiculous as it felt.

Logan smiled slightly to himself as he watched the shadows wash away and return to the wall, and that inward smile broadened when he noticed you weren’t moving, eyes clenched shut, your hands balled into fists, your shoulders tensed and hunched. He stepped forward and up to you, gently bracing his hands on either side of your neck, thumbs angling your jaw up a little. Your soft gasp didn’t escape his ears.

“Y’alright?” He asked, eyes searching your face before finding your own gaze, your lids having fluttered open. You visibly relaxed, one hand that was previously balled into a tight fist now gently sliding up his wrist, resting atop his forearm. Your touch was electric, fingertips sending shivers down his spine. 

“Fine, I think,” you responded, gliding your nails through the hair on his arm. It was an absent response to his touch. You wanted to be closer to him, to bury your head in the crook of his neck and breathe in his pinewood scent. His breath was a mix of mint and tobacco, and you wondered if his lips had a permanent hint of whiskey if you were to taste them, having been told by a grumbling Jean that was who the hidden, half-empty bottle in the cupboard belonged to.

You instantly mourned the loss of his touch when he stepped back, though you were grateful he did. You’d been dangerously close to kissing him, and whilst you still wanted to, perhaps not without an audience of Charles and Scott.

“How are you feeling?” You blinked when the Professor addressed you directly, having forgotten what living in reality was like for a few moments. Nodding along with an answer you hadn’t voiced yet, you grinned along with a deep, contorting rumble of your stomach.

“Apparently, starving.” A chuckle escaped your lips and you braced a hand against your stomach in an attempt to soothe away the uncomfortable feeling of hunger. 

“I think that’s enough for today. Logan, could you take this one to the kitchen? Make sure she’s fed.” There was a knowing look in Professor Xavier’s eye that Logan wasn’t sure he liked. Sure, he may have just lovingly held your face whilst bringing you back from the brink of terror, but that didn’t mean there was anything going on between the two of you. You met yesterday!

“Sure.” he shrugged, trying his damnest to sound nonchalant about it. You stretched your arms up above your head, popping your elbows slightly as you followed Logan from the room, feeling a thousand times lighter than you did when you entered two hours ago. Honestly, you couldn’t believe you’d succeeded. 

The doors closed behind you with a soft swish, and you paused to appreciate the man walking ahead of you. You’d known each other for less than twenty-four hours, and yet you’d tear the fabric of the universe apart to ensure his safety. You knew almost nothing about him, and yet you felt the strangest pull towards him, a yearning to be around him, to be near him. It was infuriating, but so fucking exciting at the same time. Could this maybe be something? Did he feel this weird connection too? Or was it just your delusions working overtime? Honestly, hard to say.

“Take a picture, it’d last longer.”

You snapped from your daze to notice he’d turned back to you, realising you weren’t following him. Flashing him a broad smile, refusing to feel any kind of embarrassment that he’d caught you practically staring at him, you jogged a little to catch up, effortlessly falling into step beside him.

“Wanted to thank you,” you looked up at him through the corner of your eye, catching his own gaze. 

“What for?”

“Everything. Logan, I’ve known you for less than a full day and you’ve already helped me more than people I’ve known practically my whole life. The Professor excluded. So yeah, thanks.” You shrugged, hitting the button on the lift to take you both back up to the ground floor. The doors closed and you leaned against the back wall, crossing one ankle over the other. 

“You need better friends if you’re thankin’ me for anythin’. Wouldn’t anyone else do the same?” he asked, mirroring your stance against the adjacent wall, folding his arms across his chest. You snorted a laugh, and he found himself smiling at you.

“Yeah, friends would, but like I said, we haven’t even known each other a full twenty-four hours yet.”

Logan cocked a brow, his smile morphing back to a small smirk. “Well pardon me, princess, I thought we were friends.” 

You rolled your eyes, and Logan had a horrendous feeling he’d misread the entire situation between you. “I mean like, lifelong friends, asshole. People I’ve known ever since I can remember. Not people I met yesterday,” you finished, gently kicking his foot with your own. Logan straightened up as the lift slowed to reach the ground floor, softly flicking your forehead in response to your kick, causing you to bat his hand away.

“Yeah, well, what can I say? You made an impact,” he shrugged, and you grinned.

“Oh yeah?”

“Don’t let it get to your head, bub. I’m just sayin’ you show up after not existin’ and immediately cause trouble.” he watched your expression shift from mischievous to a sheepish pout, unable to beat the trouble-maker allegations. He sighed slightly. “But hey, maybe I like trouble.” The doors opened for the both of you to leave, Logan being the first to make his exit. Though, you stayed behind for a beat.

“Or maybe trouble just likes you,” you retorted with that same lopsided smile he’d come to admire so much, before pushing back against the wall to join him. 

“Yeah well, ‘m’not mad about it either way,” he mumbled, and you thought better about teasing him for it. You imagined this was about as close as he was gonna get to voicing genuine care for you, so you let it drop, simply humming a thoughtful smile in response. 

You don’t know why you were expecting the kitchen to have a few people in it, since classes were currently going on. Maybe it was due to the fact you hadn’t exactly settled back into the life of a teacher yet. Not that you were a teacher anymore, the man currently rifling through the snacks cupboard had seen to that. You found, with no small degree of surprise, that you missed it. You missed teaching combat and strategy, you missed taking the kids through training drills and exercise routines. You missed helping them hone their mutations, with Jean’s help, or Ororo’s help. Sure, the worry of them getting hurt always used to play on your mind, but now you were back, you realised that the worry was worth the fulfilment. 

Taking a seat at the table, you propped your chin up on the heel of your palm, watching as Logan crouched to one of the cupboards below the counter. You didn’t pretend like you weren’t enjoying the view. He really did look fantastic for one hundred and thirty. In peak physical condition.

“I’d say take a picture again but I’d really rather you didn’t,” you were too focused shamelessly staring at his ass you hadn’t noticed he was peering at you over his shoulder with a not-so-subtle smirk. You flashed one right back.

You were coming to like that phrase. “I wouldn’t be opposed,” you retorted, wiggling your brows up and down. Logan snorted a laugh. 

“You flirt with everyone like this?”

You shook your head, moving to rest your chin on top of your now interlaced fingers. “Nah, only with the ones over ninety. I have a thing for older men,” you winked and he rolled his eyes.

“Stop,” but judging from his expression, Logan was finding this just as amusing as you were. But as much as you wanted to continue, your curiosity got the better of you.

“What’re you looking for?” you asked, standing from your seat at the table and skirting around the wood to sit on the edge closer to him, peering down over his shoulder. 

“There used to be a packet of insta-noodles in here somewhere but I think one of the kids got to it first,” he explained, and you gasped dramatically, to the point where he actually looked a little concerned over his shoulder. “What?”

“Insta-noodles? My brother in Christ, please tell me you were not about to give me instant fucking noodles?” you felt something in you die at the thought, and something else died at his affirming nod.

“Yeah, what's wrong with that?” he asked, genuinely perplexed by your reaction. It was just noodles for fuck’s sake, it wasn’t like he’d just offered to kick a baby. He blinked at your barked laugh of disbelief, watching as you hopped off the table and shooed him aside.

“Step back fossil–”

“Hey!”

“and let me do this. We’re going to actually have food. Like, real food. Take a seat or watch and learn.” You shot him a look over your shoulder, before gathering whatever ingredients you needed. Logan dragged one of the chairs back from the table, taking a seat to watch whatever it was you were about to make. 

You started by dicing an onion, a pan with oil already heating up on the gas stove, and it took all of three minutes for Logan to be impressed by your knife skills. You almost wielded the thing like a dagger, flipping it this way and that, before scooping half the pile of onion and dropping it into a plastic bowl. The other half you scraped into the pan, and Logan couldn’t help but savour the sound of the sizzle and the smell of food. Suddenly, he too was starving.

You crossed to the fridge, rummaging around the bottom shelf before pulling out a tub of minced beef, and a packet of mushrooms. Closing the door with your hip, you lay the ingredients out on the counter, pulling open the cupboard above your head to retrieve a box of breadcrumbs and a carton of eggs. Though he saw you pause briefly, turning your head back to him.

“You’re not vegetarian or vegan, right? Probably should have asked yesterday,” your question made him laugh, and you tilted your head to the side. “What?”

“Do I look vegan to you?”

You stuck your tongue in your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. No, no he didn’t. But at the same time, you’d made a similar mistake in the past. And it still haunts you to this day.

“Just answer the question, Lo’” you grit, placing a hand on your hip. Logan blinked, trying his best to get past the nickname you’d just given him. Usually, nicknames were his thing, having about a million different ones for a million different circumstances. He barely managed to shake his head, earning himself a smile of gratitude from you, before you turned back to your task at hand and he could settle himself with his brow pinched between his thumb and forefinger.

You crouched again, rifling through the cupboard with cans. Pushing a stack of soup to the side, you froze solid, your eyes blowing wide as your hand shook at what you saw. Another mug, though someone had gone to great lengths to hide this one. Your fingertips grazed the faded image, a photograph of a younger-looking you and a girl with fair features, her braids tied back at the top of her head. Her smile was brilliant. Dazzling. It took you a moment to will your blurring vision away, before inhaling deeply and bringing out the chopped tomatoes you’d been looking for, setting it to the side. Taking a moment to push her from your mind whilst stirring the slowly browning onions, you then cross to fill the kettle, flicking the switch to start boiling. Logan blew out a breath, having recovered from his heart stuttering and finally went back to watching you cook. 

It was calming, almost hypnotic, the way you moved about the kitchen. Folding the onions in with the beef mince, breadcrumbs and two eggs. Only, it just occurred to him he had no fucking clue what you were making. Standing from his seat, he moved over to lean his shoulder against the fridge door, now having a clear line of sight to watch what you were doing.

“What’re you making?” he asked, smiling slightly as you startled. He didn’t mean to scare you, he just honestly didn’t realise how deep into the process you were. 

“Meatball Marinara,” you answered, your fingers incorporating the ingredients in the bowl until you were left with a sticky, meaty lump you could form balls out of. 

“From scratch?” he asked, eyes slightly wide. You’d spoken at length about your cooking last night, and how you’d learned, and it wasn’t that he didn’t believe you, it was more that he didn’t quite realise how impressive it was until he was here, watching you. 

He swore, your smile could start and end wars.

“It’s pretty quick and easy, to be honest,” you explained, eyes never leaving your task despite feeling his own trained on you. You grabbed the salt from the spice rack, twisting the grinder a few times until you felt it was right. That was what a lot of cooking was for you. Just feeling. When you felt something was done, you’d take it from the oven. When you felt something needed a little more seasoning, you’d sprinkle some paprika in for an extra kick. Nothing was ever done by the book. 

It’s mainly why you didn’t exactly get on with Scott.

“Huh…” Logan responded, watching how you’d started to take small portions of the beef and roll it into little balls, placing them onto a separate plate. 

“Could you give the onions a quick stir? ‘ve got meat hands,” you wiggled your slightly shining fingers in his face, and he jerked back, much to your amusement. Logan fought the urge to flick your forehead again, settling on ignoring your evil little laugh and instead focussing on his critical mission of stirring onions. 

“D’ya cook like this when you were away?” he asked, finding an insane amount of domestic comfort in cooking with you. He saw you shake your head out of his peripheral vision. 

“Nah, didn’t have time, plus I was moving around a lot. Usually, it was quicker and easier things than this,”

“Like insta-noodles?”

You could fucking hear his smirk, and you managed to stop yourself from cracking an egg over his head. “No. Never insta-noodles. Ever.”

You’d finished making little meatballs and had started splitting apart a bulb of garlic, crushing the cloves beneath your knife before peeling off the skin and dicing them before dropping them into the pan he was still stirring. His eyes closed involuntarily as you leaned across him, once again your scent hitting him like a freight train, only this time your shampoo had blended with the sweet, slightly musky smell of your sweat. It was enough to drive him fucking feral. 

“Keep stirring that, or it’ll stick to the bottom and burn,” you instructed absently, halfway through chopping up a few mushrooms before leaning across him again to drop them into the pan as well. Logan held the spoon like it was his lifeline, knuckles draining white as you moved around him to retrieve another pan.

“Yes ma’am,” he responded, and you snorted another laugh. He really had to pull himself together. 

You poured the boiled water from the kettle into the new pan, lighting the burner and setting it on a high heat, bringing the water roiling before grinding salt for what Logan felt was far too long. He wondered vaguely if you had high sodium levels, or how your blood pressure was. You waited again for the water to come back to a boil, before placing a sizeable amount of spaghetti into the pan, putting slight pressure on the tips so the ends would soften and bend faster in the water. 

Placing the lid over the pan, you went to check your watch. Your watch that you weren’t wearing. Fucking goddamnit. You looked around for a clock, before noticing Logan’s wrist. 

Logan’s soul nearly left his body at the way you grabbed his hand, twisting his wrist to make a note of the time. You weren’t exactly rough, but it was assertive enough for him to think twice about the kinds of things he was into…

Wait, what the fuck was he talking about?

“You could’ve just asked the time,” he muttered, tugging his wrist back almost possesively. 

“Hm?” you blinked. In truth, you’d been utterly lost in how good this felt. How right it felt to just do average, mundane tasks with him. “Oh, right, yeah, sorry. Could you tell me when ten minutes have passed?” you asked, almost instantly busying yourself again by carefully dropping the meatballs into the pan he was stirring. “Gotta brown off the meat first…” you instructed softly, almost absently. But he listened, slowing his movements. Your resulting smile was radiant. “Hey, you’re a natural!”

Logan raised a brow. “I’m stirring a pan, bub. Not exactly gourmet style.” You laughed, gently hitting his bicep with the back of your hand, only to stop in your tracks, shaking your knuckles out. 

“Ow! I thought you said your bones were made of adamantium,” you exclaimed, rubbing over the back of your hand with your other palm. In truth, it didn’t really hurt, but you just wanted to make a point because nobody has the right to be this built. It was insane.

Logan bit his tongue to stop from smiling, his eyes sliding from that pan to you. “Just the result of a good workout regime,” he shrugged as if it were nothing special. In reality, he knew he looked good. He put a lot of work into his physique, and whilst his mutation did help with that, it was still nice to be complimented on it once in a while. 

“Huh… you don’t say,” you responded, cracking open the can of tomatoes once the meatballs had browned to your satisfaction. The metal sizzled slightly as you poured in the sauce, setting the can to the side and retrieving a few basil leaves from the window box on the opposite side of the room. Logan hadn’t noticed it before, remarkably, and though having no experience with plants in recent history, something told him he wouldn’t have too much trouble identifying what they were.

It was a weird feeling. Remembering something he didn’t actually remember. Though it had been the story of his life for the last few years. 

You dropped the leaves into the sauce, leaving him to stir the pot whilst you brought out two sets of plates and cutlery and set them on the counter, angling your head so you could catch sight of the time from the watch on his wrist. He would have just told you if he didn’t think you were deriving some kind of joy from attempting to read his watch sideways.

Removing the lid from the pan, you scooped up a single piece of spaghetti, blowing away the steam before dropping it into your hand when you thought it was cool enough. You shot him a quick look Logan could only describe as pure mischief, before throwing the spaghetti against the backsplash of the stove. He watched as the pasta hit the wall with a sick squelch, before sliding down the tiles. 

He looked back at you, and you almost instantly burst into fits of laughter. “The fuck was that for?” he asked, his brows furrowed in perplexion. 

You managed to recover from laughing, though hiccuped through a few giggles. “You can tell whether spaghetti’s done by throwing it at the wall. If it sticks, it’s raw, if it slides, it’s done,” you exclaimed, tilting your head to get another look at the time, noting that those ten minutes were up.

“Really?” 

“Nah, that’s an old wive’s tale. Honestly, it’s just kinda fun to pelt spaghetti at a wall and call it ‘cooking’.” You sent him a wink, and Logan shook his head in fond disbelief. He felt like he’d seen so many sides to you in the last twenty-four hours alone. And if he was being completely honest with himself, he wanted to see more. He wanted to see how many sides to you there were, and whether he would like them all as much as he liked the ones he’s already seen. Your fury included.

“Your ten minutes it up, by the way,” he reminded you, and though he had a feeling you already knew, you nodded in thanks anyway, removing the boiling pan from the stove and flicking off the burner, the blue gas flames retreated to nothing. Skirting around him to the sink, you tipped out the water, using the lid of the pan to stop the rest of the spaghetti from falling with it. You shook the pan slightly, shaking out any pieces that had stuck together, before setting about separating the contents into two portions, one slightly bigger than the other. 

“How’s it looking?” you asked, leaning back to take a look at the sauce. If Logan had to grit his teeth after smelling your scent one more time his jaw would fucking snap. You really weren’t making this easy on him, were you? Part of him wondered if you were doing it deliberately, but there was no way of you knowing about his heightened senses. Unless you’d asked around, which, with everything you’ve had going on since you got back, he sincerely doubted. 

“Looks good to me, but I’m not the expert here,” he handed you the spoon, stepping to the side for you to take over. Your fingers brushed his as you took it, and he tried his fucking best to ignore the slight buzz you’d left. 

Lifting the spoon to your lips, you sampled what you’d been slaving over for the last twenty minutes, smiling slightly as the sweet, tarty flavours burst on your tongue. It was a new sensation for Logan to wish he was a spoon, but here he was. 

“Perfect!” you beamed, dipping the spoon back in the sauce and turning to him, your palm cupped beneath the wood to prevent anything from spilling onto the floor. “Wanna try it?”

Logan shrugged, stepping forward and allowing you to bring the spoon to his lips. Your eyes never left his, the tips of your fingers grazing the coarse stubble beneath his chin, but you didn’t move away. He struggled to focus on anything other than how close you were to him, the feeling of your fingers on his jaw, your breath fanning the lower half of his face. Your hopeful eyes waiting eagerly for his verdict, searching his expression for any kind of clue. And he was suddenly afraid of what you’d find there. 

Stepping back, he pretended like he was savouring what you’d fed him, and whilst it was fucking delicious, it didn’t compare to how he imagined your lips tasting. Or anything else, for that matter. 

“‘S’really good,” he managed, and you immediately looked as if you weren’t waiting with bated breath for his approval.

“Isn’t it? Fuck I’m good,” your laugh was more akin to an evil mastermind than someone who’d just made meatballs, but Logan would be hard-pressed to find another time in his life when he felt this at peace with the world. At least, not in the life he could remember. “Sit, I’ll bring it over,” you instructed, removing a larger, metal spoon from the drawer, which he took off you the moment he could.

“Pretty sure it’s supposed to be the other way ‘round, bub. You cooked,” he glanced pointedly to the seat you’d just gestured to. But clearly, you were, amongst many other things, incredibly stubborn. 

“Not sure how you worked that one out, you cooked too,” you folded your arms across your chest, setting your jaw. 

“Yeah, barely. Sit your ass down,” he pointed to the chair with the spoon in his hand, but you still refused, now leaning against the counter as if you could get any further away from the table. Logan sighed heavily, placing the spoon down again. “Didn’t wanna have to do this…” he muttered, and you didn’t have the chance to ask what he meant by this before his arms were around your waist and you were lifted effortlessly off the ground. 

All breath fled from your lungs. Your hands instantly fell to his shoulders, nails clinging on for dear life as he carried you to that godforsaken chair. His grip around your body tightened as you attempted to wriggle free from his arms, laughing breathlessly, exhilaration coursing through your body. Only, the moment he tried to set you down, you did a complete 180 and wrapped your arms around his neck, your legs around his waist.

“Let go,” his words were muffled against your neck as he bent almost double, and you leaned back until you were practically hovering above the chair.

“Seemed like a good idea a minute ago, huh?” You arched a cocky brow and were met with an expression mirroring your own. 

“So you gonna cling to me forever? That your genius plan?”

“If that's what it takes,” 

“Let go,” the way he said your name almost had you falling to the floor, your muscles suddenly growing weak. But you stayed strong, out of nothing but principal at this point. He wasn’t even holding you anymore, you were clinging on through sheer willpower alone. For the sake of being stubborn.

“You made this bed, now lie in it,” you responded haughtily, refusing to look into his irritated façade.

“That doesn’t make any goddamn sense,” he growled, and you fucking melted. That wasn’t fucking fair, and judging by the steadily growing smirk, he knew it. His hands gripped both your calves, successfully peeling you from his waist whilst you were distracted. You had no choice but to let your legs fall to the floor, catching yourself on the chair behind you, much to his triumphant grin. 

“You cheated!” you gaped, sitting cross-legged on the seat. Logan barely looked over his shoulder as he started spooning the sauce onto the two piles of pasta. All that over fucking spaghetti. And you didn’t even regret it a little.

“How’d I cheat?” he asked, though you were aware he knew full well how. And you were right. He did know. Of course he knew. He’d used that specific voice countless times before. Usually under very different circumstances. He just wanted to hear you say it. Hear you say how it affected you. 

But, true to form, you were stubborn.

“You’re stronger than I am,” you sighed, glaring heated daggers into the back of his head. You wanted to be petty, to stand up and take the spoon from him again, but in all honesty, you don’t think you’d survive another round of ‘sit on the fucking chair’.

Logan looked at you over his shoulder, his eyes swirling with knowing, and you stuck your tongue in your cheek and looked away, not giving him any satisfaction of confirming what he was thinking. You’d been so caught up in avoiding eye contact, that you almost jumped when he set the plate down in front of you, setting his own at the opposite place. At least he’d had the sense to realise the large portion was for him. Credit where credit was due, you guessed.

A comfortable silence blanketed the kitchen as he took a seat, two glasses of water in his hands, and you smiled a thank you. If you had your brother to thank for anything, it was teaching you how to cook. Well, it was many more things than that, but at this moment, it was cooking lessons. He didn’t want you going into the world with the culinary skills of a carrot. His words, not yours. 

You had a feeling Logan was a hard man to impress, so listening to his small grunt of appreciation was music to your ears. “Told ya I was a good chef,” you beamed after swallowing a mouthful and taking a large sip of water. 

Logan nodded in agreement. It wasn’t like he could disagree, the proof was right there, in front of him, in his fucking mouth for fuck’s sake. And the peace pesto from last night. Though he was glad his metabolism was fast. Pasta two days in a row can’t be good for anyone. “Never said you weren’t,” your expression fell from pride to scowling in seconds, and the corner of his mouth quirked up. “You’re a fantastic chef.”

Your eyes narrowed as you searched for any hint of dishonesty, but you came up short. Though he said it as if to placate you, something told you he really meant it. You were just playing around, in all honesty, teasing in order to forget what just happened between you, and you’d gotten so much more than you bargained for. 

Much like the other night, you both fell into comfortable, mundane conversation, finding refuge in how fucking normal everything felt right now. You laughed and smiled as if the threat of disappearing into nothing didn’t constantly hang above your head, and he teased and joked as if the weight of his forgotten life didn’t constantly burden his shoulders. You could get used to this. Dangerously used to this. 

Logan was completely enamoured by you, once again finding himself encapsulated by the way you talk, from moments where you get really into whatever story you’re telling, to quieter moments when you let the conversation settle. If he was to die tomorrow, unlikely but worth entertaining from time to time, it was moments like these he was sure would flash through his mind. 

“What about you? I’ve talked your ear off about my life but you never talk about yours. Though, I guess there’s a lot to talk about,” you mused thoughtfully, twisting your fork through your spaghetti, or whatever was left of it. Logan grunted, shifting in his seat to lean against the back of the chair.

“It’s not a happy story,” he admitted quietly, buying himself some time by taking a long glass of water. Your gentle eyes found his, a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

“I’m not looking for a fairytale. Just who you are,” you fought the urge to reach across the table and slip your hand into his. Though you didn’t want to push him to divulge anything, you just didn’t wanna feel like the whole conversation was one-sided. Sure, he would chime in with a few anecdotes but mainly it was just asking you questions. 

If he was being honest with himself, Logan wasn’t sure he wanted to tell you anything about his past. He knew you wouldn’t judge, clearly having seen a fair amount of bullshit yourself, and the fact that it simply wasn’t who you were. No, his problem lay with the fact that he didn’t want to dampen your spirit with his sob story of a past. How he only remembers through thrashing nightmares, waking up soaked in sweat, heart racing. You didn’t need to know any of that. 

“Alright… I–” he began before quite literally being saved by the bell. Logan looked at his watch, brows raising at how easily time had once again run away with the two of you. You blinked, looking around as if you could find the bell and ask it personally why it was going off so early before the echoing of ongoing conversation shattered the domestic delusion you’d both managed to trick yourselves into feeling.

“Another time,” you stood from the table, leaning over to grab his plate, but he swatted your hand away and instead took your own. 

“Never learn, do ya?” he asked with a slight smile, and you rolled your eyes. With a heavy, defeated sigh, you conceded, simply allowing him to take your plate to the sink. Stretching your arms high above your head, you popped your stiff shoulders, turning your head as two students you knew well entered the kitchen.

“You made meatballs?! No fair, I wanted some!” Jubilee whined, her books still clasped against her chest. Artie stuck out his forked tongue, much like a snake would taste the air around it before his curious face morphed into a frown. It seemed he too wouldn’t have minded meatballs. 

Logan looked over his shoulder at the two newcomers, his eyes darting between you and them, your guilt written all over your face.

“I’ll make them for you again sometime soon. We could have one of those big dinners we used to do, remember those?” you asked, your eyes alight with hope. Logan had heard of those. Apparently, you used to cook for the whole mansion, and the students would drag tables and chairs from all different rooms and have a huge feast together. Of course, he didn’t believe a word anybody said about it, since he was convinced you were a figment of everyone’s collective imagination, but now he knew you very much did exist, he could envision you dancing around the kitchen for hours on end, preparing dish after dish.

Jubilee’s face lit up at the suggestion, her hand hitting Artie’s arm excitedly. “Seriously? You mean that? We’ve missed doing that so much. Nobody cooks the way you do!” She bounced on her toes, before whirling and darting from the room, most likely to tell the rest of her friends. Artie lingered for a few seconds, clearly not knowing whether he wanted to stay or to race after Jubilee, before he too turned on his heel and ran after her. You chuckled softly, running a hand through your hair.

“What’ve I gotten myself into…?” you muttered, startling slightly as a hand rested on your shoulder. You looked up at Logan, unable to accurately decipher his expression. All you knew was that it was soft. Softer than you’d seen in the last day or so. 

“Were y’always this good with em? The kids?” he asked, and you huffed a laugh. You wished you could say yes, absolutely, you’d always been naturally gifted at looking after children. But that wasn’t the truth. 

“Fuck no. Used to hate kids, to be honest with you. Thought they were annoying as fuck when I first started,” you admitted slightly sheepishly. “But, they grew on me. Still not a fan of like, other kids, but any who come to this school? Love ‘em.” 

“Makes me wonder why they sent you ‘round America and not someone more suited.” his eyes glinted with mischief and you lightly elbowed his ribs.

“I can be incredibly persuasive.” 

“That so?”

“Mmmhm,” you nodded emphatically, stepping out of his range and immediately missing the warmth of his palm on your shoulder. You hadn’t even noticed he’d left it there until you moved away and hopped onto the table, your feet dangling slightly. He didn’t take his eyes off you, scanning your face as though he was considering you. You cocked a brow. “What?”

“Teach with me.”

You blinked. Well, you weren’t expecting that. “Come again?”

“Teach with me,” he repeated as confidently as he’d said it the first time. You scoffed a laugh. 

“What? Why?”

Logan shrugged. “You’re better with the kids than I am, and it would give you a good opportunity to develop your mutation in a combat setting.” And I get to spend more time with you.

You hesitated. “I– I don’t know, Logan. It’s… I don’t think it’s a good idea,” While you wanted nothing more than yet another excuse to be around him, you didn’t know if getting back into teaching was the right thing for you at the moment. Yeah, you missed it. Fuck, you missed it more than you thought you would, but you really meant it when you said you weren’t cut out for it. If only you weren’t the only person who thought so. 

“One class.” he bargained. “Help me with one class tomorrow and decide from there.”

You pursed your lips, and Logan could almost hear your internal debate. “You’re not gonna let it go til I do it, are you?”

“Probably not,” he smirked, knowing he’d just got you to agree. Your resulting sigh confirmed it. 

“Fine. One class. No more than that.” In all honesty, you would have agreed just to see his resulting smile. 

“We’ll see about that bub, class starts at one tomorrow.” 

You nodded once, nerves suddenly bubbling in your gut. You were going to teach again, after being out the game for the last two years. Fucking hell you wanted to throw up. But you took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling. Maybe this was a good thing. A blessing in disguise. Sure, it had been a while, but maybe Logan was right. Maybe your mutation would only develop under times of stress. You were incredibly stressed today, and look what happened. 

“Alright, I’ll talk to Charles and Scott, see what they say,”

Logan huffed, clearly irate with the idea. “Don’t give a shit what Scott says. He couldn’t help you after almost two hours. I was there for two minutes and you made progress,” he huffed, and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Was he… was he jealous? No, that wasn’t possible. What would he have to be jealous about?

“Alright tough guy, rein it in. The way you helped out earlier, it wouldn’t surprise me if Charles is telling him you should be taking over my training,” you hadn’t even thought about it before you said it, but now it was out your mouth, you realised it was entirely plausible. Especially since anyone with eyes or ears could see how much better you got on with Logan than you did Scott. Logan suggested one approach and it worked like a charm.

“Ya think so?” Fuck was the hope in his voice as obvious to you as it was to him? The idea of helping you with your mutation, whilst slightly terrifying, excited him. He couldn’t help but think that would be a learning experience for both of you.

“Yeah, why not? Like you said, Scott couldn’t help after two hours,” you shrugged, hopping off the table. “Anyway, I’m in dire need of a shower and comfier clothing, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Logan almost cried at the thought of you no longer smelling like you do now, and he had half the mind to tell you to forget the shower, you smelt that fucking good. But he also didn’t want the reputation of the weird-smell guy, so instead of trapping you in his arms and begging you not to, he simply nodded in agreement.

“Yeah, see you later.” He grumbled, trying not to be obviously annoyed by the fact the time you’d spent together was coming to an end. You shot him a confused look, before disappearing out the door and up the stairs to your room. Logan stayed for a few more minutes, his eyes closed as he finally let himself get lost in your scent. He wanted you. Fuck he’d only known you for a day and he wanted you. How the hell was he supposed to just behave normally now you were back living here? It simply wasn’t possible. 

He groaned, running a hand down the side of his face. On the one hand, he really wanted to spend more time with you. He was actively looking forward to spending time with you. But on the other, he didn’t know how much longer he could behave himself. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep up this ‘friendly’ banter with you without it crossing the line. Had it already crossed the line?

Jesus Christ, he didn’t even know. He couldn’t help thinking this was likely about to get extremely messy if he didn’t get his shit together. But, at the same time…

He always liked a little mess.

Freshly showered, moisturised and pampered, you lay face up on your bed, your room feeling more like a forest than anything else. The steam from your shower still rolling out from your bathroom, and the more tropical plants you kept seemed to be absolutely thriving. You were thrilled, you really were, but you couldn’t take your mind off the day you’d just had. Not that it was over, it was only five in the afternoon, but so much had happened in the last day it was hard to wrap your head around.

You’d been replaced as a professor, your bedroom stolen, and you’d been informed that the mutation you thought you knew so well wasn’t actually what you thought it was at all, and that it could very well end you in seconds. You’d thrown a fit, broken your hand, dragged shadows toward you and constructed them into a pair of fucking awesome wings, and cooked with a man you’d known all of two minutes.

And the strangest fucking part was that you couldn’t get him off your mind. You couldn’t stop thinking about him. It was honestly getting a little irritating, seeing his face every time you close your eyes, hearing his laugh when your room got a little too silent. Feeling the ghostly touches of his arms around your waist, his hands on your neck. His breath against your ear. 

You flapped your arms down on your bed in defiance. You would not lie in bed thinking about him all evening. You refused. And luckily, due to an unexpected visit, you didn’t have to.

“He likes you, ya know,”

You screamed, whipping your head back to your door where you saw Kitty strolling in, completely unphased by your reaction. Grabbing one of your pillows, you threw it at her approaching form, watching as it soared straight through her body. Your jaw flapped, completely speechless. “I– Wh– Kitty! You can’t just waltz in here unannounced! Scared me shitless!” you exclaimed, running a stressed hand through your hair.

“Why? I always used to. Been gone that long, huh?” she asked, plopping down on the end of your bed and crossing her legs. 

“Yeah… guess I have,” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for your accommodation to be broken into. The moment rumour got out there was a mutant staying a few streets over the road, you had to move. Sometimes you hadn’t been quick enough and had spent the rest of the evening frantically scrubbing blood from beneath your fingernails, before making a quick exit.

Those were the times on your travels nobody needed to know about. Those were the times you’d keep to yourself. 

You jumped again as your door burst open, a frantic Logan looking you up and down before his eyes darted around the room. “You alright? I heard screaming,” he panted, slightly breathless from clearly having sprinted up the stairs. 

Your heart grew five sizes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Kitty scared the shit out of me, ‘s’all,” you shrugged, too focused on him to notice the woman of the hour beaming wildly, looking between the two of you. 

His shoulders sagged, the man visibly relaxing, his eyes lingering on yours. “Okay…”

“Okay…” you repeated, unable to tame your disobedient smile as he almost awkwardly nodded his head. 

“Right. I’ll uh, yeah. Leave ya to it,” he clicked his tongue, sending you one last glance to make sure you were really okay, before closing the door. 

You sighed, shaking your head fondly, chuckling quietly to yourself. 

“Oh. My. God. You like him too!”

Looking up with unnatural speed, you scoffed, waving your hand dismissively. “The fuck are you talking about?” you asked a little too defensively.

“I’m talking about you and Logan. He clearly likes you, and now I can see that you like him too! Oh, this is so fucking cute, just wait until I tell Marie, she’ll go fucking crazy!” Kitty clapped her hands excitedly, and you had to catch one of her wrists in order to stop her. 

“What are you on about? Logan doesn’t like me, we’re just friends,” oh, was it supposed to hurt that much to say it? But, in all honesty, you don’t think you were ready to confront whatever it was you felt for this man. For now, you were pretty content to bask in not knowing, and being kind of excited about it.

“Mhm? Friends don’t eye fuck in the kitchen.”

You choked. Her tone was so matter-of-fact that if you weren’t actually looking at her, you wouldn’t have believed you were talking to Shadowcat herself, Kitty Pryde. “Kitty! Christ, what happened to you? And we weren’t eye fucking. I was hungry and refused to cook insta-noodles, so we actually made a meal.” You explained. 

“For almost four hours? Meatballs take twenty minutes, twenty-five at a push,”

“We lost track of time!”

“I repeat, for four hours?” she asked again, folding her arms and raising one of her thin brows. You pursed your lips to stop yourself from saying anything else incriminating. “Though as much,”

“I didn’t even say anything!” 

“You didn’t need to, it’s written over your lovestruck face.” She poked her finger toward your nose, and all you could think about was the way Logan flicked your forehead beforehand or the way Logan gave you that little push back in the training room. Or the way Logan–

Christ on a fucking boat when would it end?

“I’m not lovestruck,” you mumbled, dragging your knees up to your chest. You debated telling Kitty about your predicament with your mutation, for the sole reason of explaining why you and Logan were spending so much time together recently, but you didn’t think you could bear the look on her face. The only ones who knew, to your understanding, were Scott, as the leader of the team, Jean, as the leading scientist, Charles for obvious reasons, and Logan because you told him. You didn’t really want another person to know your problems, especially not Kitty. 

You couldn’t bear to see her face when you told her you weren’t a phaser anymore. The mere thought broke your heart. You had matching mugs and everything. You couldn’t do that to her. Let alone sharing the idea that your mutation could simply not allow you to return back to the corporeal world one day, and you’d be stuck as nothing but wondering consciousness in the shadows for, effectively, all eternity. That was a little too morbid to talk about even with Logan.

“He’s just… helping me get back into the swing of things. I haven’t been a teacher for a long time, Kit, and since he took my position, he’s offered to help me–”

“Get back into teaching! Oh my god, he has, hasn’t he? That’s so exciting! I thought you didn’t want to get back into it?” She asked, untucking her legs and swinging them around so she was now lying comfortably on your bed, her head propped up on her elbow. 

“Well, we’re not getting ahead of ourselves, but yeah, that’s the idea. Gonna help him with his class tomorrow…” you trailed off, your heart beginning to accelerate at the thought of teaching your first class in two years. “So yeah, that’s why we’ve been spending so much time together. It’s nothing serious, promise! Plus, since most of the new students are kids I found, he’s pretty much the only person I don’t know here.” You flopped back down onto your bed, angling your head so you could still see her.

There was a moment of comfortable silence, a moment to let the conversation settle and for your heart to slow a little, before Kitty spoke up again. “He was really excited to meet you,” she offered quietly, and your brows raised subconsciously. “Everytime someone started talking about you, he’d tune in. He was subtle, but Marie noticed it first, and she told me to look out for it. He was looking forward to meeting you for the best part of a year.”

You took a deep breath. That couldn’t possibly be true. “You’re good at seeing things that aren’t there, Kit. I love you for it, but sometimes things really aren’t that deep,” you explained softly, trying your hardest not to smile at the image of Logan only tuning into the conversation if it was about you. It was definitely a stretch of the imagination, but it was a pleasant one.

“Yeah yeah, you watch. I’ll be keeping an eye on your totally platonic relationship with Professor Howlett but mark my words, you’ll be together by the end of the month,” Kitty smacked your calf to emphasise her point, and you shook your leg threateningly, laughing at the notion. 

“I cannot wait to see you eat your words. I’m sure they’ll taste of falsehoods and regret.” You flashed her a toothy grin, and she stuck her tongue out in retaliation. You’d missed moments like these. In all honesty, you hadn’t realised how lonely the last two years had been. Hadn’t realised how starved of friendship you’d been until you found yourself talking and laughing amongst friends again. You didn’t realise how much you’d missed this place until you came home again, to both the old friends, and the new. 

[goose-duck]

Creepypasta incorrect quotes ⭐

~~~~~~

Nina: spirit Halloween opened up early and my poor money decisions are always open so I bought a bunch of stuff

~~~~~~

Jeff: so...are we the best or the worst?

Toby: yes, sir.

~~~~~~

Jeff: he doesn't have eyeballs bro- he probably doesn't have balls either...

~~~~~~

Nina: he's ugly, I love him

~~~~~~

Y/N: There's just something abt his lack of a mouth and being less fluffy that makes me want him

Toby: he can't scream

Y/N: perfect

~~~~~~

Jeff: best friends!!

Y/N: nooOOOOO!!!!

~~~~~~

EJ: I learn from the mistakes of people who take my advice

~~~~~~

Y/N: heading into work~

*explosion*

Y/N: or maybe not-

~~~~~~

Nina: so romantic~

Jeff: *screaming*

Nina: romance <3

~~~~~~

Y/N: Jack, why am I in this room?

EJ: am I responsible for you moving from room to room now?

Y/N: yes.

EJ: then stay in that room.

~~~~~~

Toby: it's an elevator

Masky: this is a ladder, Toby.

Toby: imagination ✨

Hoodie: just because you put a sign that says "elevator" doesn't mean it's actually an elevator.

Toby: imagination ✨

~~~~~~

Y/N: but not me, because no one can get mad at me

Jane: I feel like in an hour we're all gonna be mad at you for something

~~~~~~

Toby: I made a house, what did you make?

Sally: a balloon

Toby: wonderful

~~~~~~

Jeff: just don't be blind

EJ: wow, you've cured me

~~~~~~

Toby: someone please take me off this fucking planet

~~~~~~

Y/N: Don't look at ceilings when ur tired. Never know what you'll see.

Toby: context, please

Y/N: Thought I had a fucking ceiling fan but it was just the balloons that I refuse to take down from my 13th birthday. I can't tell if I'm tired or stupid but I think either way it's correct.

Toby: it's probably both

Y/N: Exactly- It scared the shit outta me too-I saw it and was so fucking scared that I might have a ceiling fan in my room-

Toby: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA A FAN! ITS ON THE CEILING!!

Y/N: Y/N, Weakness: ceiling fans that may or may not be there

Toby: strength: walking in high heels, weakness: imaginary ceiling fans

~~~~~~

Hoodie: it's just a deer or something

Masky: bro, that is not a deer

~~~~~~

Jeff: *sees a spider* I should have just bombed the house the last time I saw one of you fuckers

~~~~~~

EJ: I'm doing good...im doing great...i have a headache.....

~~~~~~

Jeff: this is like when I threatened to steal your skin and bones and stuff

~~~~~~

Jeff: it's like if a heat stroke were a room

Y/N: me

Jeff: no, you're like if a heat stroke were a person

Y/N: oh

~~~~~~

Y/N: tree tops

Jeff: crispy

Nina: crispy tree tops?

Jane: why are they crispy?

EJ: why is everyone talking about trees??

~~~~~~

Jane: I'm moving the pumpkins, sorry, Toby

Toby: nooo, my life's work...

~~~~~~

Toby: would you be more offended if I got a mug of milk or orange juice?

Masky: milk.

~~~~~~

Jeff: they're all safety scissors, I don't think I can possibly be unsafe with them

*pile of about 10 safety scissors*

~~~~~~

LJ: I took some of his teeth and coloured them like candy corns

~~~~~~

Jeff: I'll steal ur hair, I'll take ur eyebrows and I'll steal ur skin too

Toby: please, that's all I have

Jeff: U have bones, mucles, veins, blood, cartilage and organs that I could take too

Toby: no thanks

~~~~~~

Hoodie: Masky is this big *puts his fingers together*

~~~~~~

Jeff: what are you doing dude?

Y/N: hugging? I think??

Jeff: it's weird...

Y/N: yeah, let's never do that again

~~~~~~

Y/N: die.

Toby: :0

Y/N: in a nice way..?

~~~~~~

Nina: I'm sure there's someone in Fabio who's named Russia

Jane: what?

Nina: yup.

~~~~~~

Jeff: I hit myself in the face with an eye!

EJ: give it to me!

~~~~~~

Ben: what the rational number?

~~~~~~

Toby: I think I failed at life...

~~~~~~

*Jeff and Toby leave the room*

Masky: well, that was a headache

Hoodie: which one?

EJ: both.

~~~~~~

*Jeff walks by*

Jane: look at him, he's greasy

~~~~~~

Y/N: why are you only offended when Jeff says something?

EJ: because it's Jeff

~~~~~~

Toby: well how's this right?

Jeff: because I'm here!

~~~~~~

Jane: I'm going to Halifax

Jeff: Hali-fuck you

~~~~~~

Sally: I saw a girl and she was young

Y/N: you're young

Sally: I'm 8

Y/N: exactly, young.

Sally: so you're a grandma?

~~~~~~

Toby: fellas, if you need me, I'll be living inside this cabinet

~~~~~~

Y/N: I'm afraid of togetherness

[chaifootsteps]

OMG the scene where Charlie baby talked to Baxter irked me SO bad! Like what are you doing?!? Youre a grown ass adult talking to another grown ass adult, you dont talk to people you just met like that EVER!

Like what was the point of the scene?? To be funny? Cause it isnt, there is no joke, punchline, nothing, its just Charlie being rude to a random stranger that she just met.

Was it to make Charlie look like an "adorkable kawaii potato that LOVES cute little things :3"? Then someone tell Vivziepop that it isnt 2014 anymore and nobody likes these characters, epecially when theyre ADULTS, theyre just really fucking annoying.

This is why i hate the Show's Charlie, they try to sell her as if she is oh-so-nice and the most kind person in the world that CARES about others issue's when she is actually a priviliged bitch that thinks she has the solution to every problem in the world when she doesnt understand shit about other's people's situation nor cares enough to listen to them.

She reminds me to these internet e-celebrities that build their whole image on being wholesome and sweet but then when theyre asked to talk about some societal problem they decilne because "sowy i dont want to bring politics to my channel :3 xoxo".

It would have been interesting if she was written this way on PURPORSE. Like at first her being a naive, rich, priviliged princess that never faced any real problems and thats why she is sure that she can easily solve other's problems by doing what she says, and as the show progresses she starts learning to LISTEN to other's explaining their situation and why the solutions arent as simple as what she was made to belive growing up privileged.

But since Vivziepop lacks any self awareness the show tries to convice us that her ways are the correct ones, and that everyone should do as she says in order to fix everything and that her acting like an ignorant asshole to thers its ok because its "cute :3".

Maybe im just exagerating because im a short person with a baby face who got treated a similar way Charlie talked to Baxter by other adults, and i dont think i need to clarify you should definetely NOT do that to other people like that, like how do people not realize its rude as shit.

Its embarassing how upset i got at this, i hope this show gets cancelled as soon as posible.

Yeah, that was pretty vile. It was that unbearable scene where she forced them to play rhyme-and-clap games all over again, and that other unbearable scene where her idea of redeeming them was putting them in stupid outfits and having them read from scripts.

I hate series Charlie so much.

[fudanshidoublevision]

It's pretty funny how the three love interests have something in common 。。。。besides their obvious interest (Haley) and obsession (Double Vision and Ray) towards the MC of the game.

The three of them smoke, which might be something banal for some but I like to hold into small details like these and make up stuff.

Haley takes smoke breaks, Ray smokes when he is in your apartment and Double isn't shown smoking in the game but he does on his birthday illustration. ᶘ ⊙ᴥ⊙ᶅ

Not sure if that was on purpose or just a coincidence but either way, it makes sense to me.

Ray, especially, the fact that he smokes.

Considering that he spent most of his pre-teen and teenage years until he was 18 years old living with Steel Sheriff and remember, Steel Sheriff is a shitty person and a BAD influence, so it makes sense that maaaybe that bad habit was influenced by that horrendous man and Ray took a hold into it.

Ray strikes me as the type of guy who's addicted to nicotine and honestly? I don't blame him at all, that man went through so much shit since he came out of his mother's womb so if he EVEN chain smokes, it wouldn't faze me at all.

Not sure if Ray smokes only at night but someone dear to me does and well, the only time of the day Ray is completely free of any duty is at night, as far as i've seen? Also, smoking at night sounds...right to me, he takes notice of you and opens the window so he isn't stinking up your place...which is surprising, the only smokers I know always smoke in secluded places and I can smell it all the way into my bedroom. ʕʘ̅͜ʘ̅ʔ

I'm aware that nicotine has some benefits but we are talking about Ray, who is freaking Binary Star, HIS ABILITY???? EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THEM. /j This man does not GAF about the side effects or the benefits of smoking. Out of the three I believe that Ray is free from any illnesses or any type of side effects, heh.

Now, Haley, they are shapeshifter...? Correct me if I'm wrong, im an amateur on the Haley department. Crazy idea but imagine if they smoke on their cat form, holy fucking shit. Their brain, gastrointestinal system or even their heart is not safe though...but I believe that they can easily shift into any animal with the strongest lungs ever and live another day without being worried about any complications? Huh, this sounds batshit crazy so I think I'll stop writing this part.

Like Ray, Haley seems to smoke as a sedative, what if they smoke herbal cigarettes? Also, I believe that they can easily quit if they want to (heh, now that I'm reading this part i forgot that this is something most addicts say, LOL.) , which I beg to differ when it comes to Ray or Double, I don't judge them, just an observation I guess.

At last, my favorite character and current obsession, Double Vision.

Cigarette smoking, yeah but what about vaping? He looks like the type of guy that would vape or maybe is it too tame for him? Maybe he wants something stronger. Wait, does anyone really need a reason to smoke? ಠಿ_ಠ

People say that vaping is less hazardous than smoking but to me? It's the same thing, most e-cigarretes contain nicotine but yeah, you are inhaling smoke from burning tobacco when you smoke a cigarette. I don't know anything about vaping. It's pretty popular in my country though, never tried it but my friend told me that vaping feels and tastes different from smoking, so I believe their judgement.

Forgive my yapping, like I was saying! He isn't safe from the lung cancer, at all. Yeah, this man can do sick tricks with the smoke, for sure... I'm not going to name any because I might be wrong but you name it and maaaaaaaybe he would be capable of doing it, if you can do something for him back, of course. Oh, I'm 100% sure this freakazoid throws the smoke in your face on purpose, I find that hot actually...if only my nostrils and eyes could say the same about that. If he does that, I'll be coughing like I have asthma until I die.

Hmm, I can't think of when he started smoking...maybe on his teenage years? After all, I think it was at that time that he started to get along with shady people and ugly business. The power of influence and their ambience might be a big factor of this habit on these guys. Heavy on Ray.

That's everything I could think of. For now.

If you are a real person, don't smoke, I guess?. Do whatever you want BUT DON'T BE TELLING ANYONE THAT TUMBLR USER fudanshidoublevision encouraged you to do it.

If you are fictional character, yassss smoke all you want beautiful inexistent individual, you don't exist after all!

GODDAMN!!!!!! I MIGHT START SMOKING RIGHT NOW IF I CAN LOOK THIS HOT 😍😍😍 GIVE ME THAT CIGARETTE 🔥🔥🔥

[froznwater]

im so sorry this is incredibly random but if i dont write alenoah i WILL die but i cant think of anything to write. do u have any simple ideas. ignore if not

HI!!! tysm for your ask <3 i hope you can find something to write amongst all the ideas. These are a bunch of ideas have written down in my notes/google drive/tumblr posts and have not got gotten around to. I still might at some point in time but feel free to use them. I will still do my own take if I get the time/motivation. There's simply so many, why not share and inspire some fics :)

----

General ideas:

Noah knows/learns spanish. Bonus points if Alejandro isn't aware until the perfect moment.

Alejandro thinks he can get away with flirting with Noah in spanish. Noah starts shit talking in spanish. Noah learns so he can hear all the little comments Alejandro keeps making under his breath. etc. so many possibilities.

Now that the show is over and Noah's off to college, he realizes he’s missing something in his life. Maybe it’s his friends, maybe it’s a lack of ever-looming danger, OR maybe it’s Alejandro. Who fucking knows. He’s too busy trying not to be in love with Alejandro to figure it out. 

Their group project is failing, horribly. There’s one thing Noah knows for certain: Alejandro's to blame. At what point does slippery eel turn into a term of endearment?

They have never ever fallen asleep next to each other. Let alone in each other's arms. Never.

Time loop where Alejandro is stuck on the episode where Noah gets voted out and sticks himself to falling in love because he can’t let go of his pride long enough to simply let Noah stay in the game and move on.

Noah loses his contacts and starts wearing his glasses more often. Alejandro notices. Everyone notices Alejandro notices.

Alejandro and Noah team up to get their friends together (insert whatever ship you like) and end up together in the process/the other two were trying to do the same thing for them.

A commentary timeline on how Alejandro's charisma turn into exploitation, how Noah's patience turned into indifference, and how they parallel each other. (I've written a few hundred words for this one lol.)

Each thinks the other doesn't like them. Cut to third party POV that watches and witnesses them completely a mess for each other.

Noah, once voted out in I See London, learns about Alejandro's family. Who have been very vocal since the show started airing.

Exploration of how Alejandro tries really really hard. Yes, He's at the top of the class, but so is Noah. Noah who sleeps through classes and doesn't turn in homework and shows up late or simply not at all and is still right up there with him.

“I would kill to be like you. To just absorb all the information fed to me. If I were you I might actually- “(beat my brother) “Might actually what?” “I told you. I don’t want to talk about it, Noah.” - "Do you know how long I studied for that test? Hours. And you- You got a 96 with no effort at all." It was a 98. But this seems like a bad time to correct him.

Dialogue one-liners prompts i've written down:

"If we make it out of this alive, I'm going to kiss you."

“Why do I feel like I cant say no to you?”

"I know you don't actually care about me, but thank you for trying to pretend that you do." (Said by Noah is joking. Said by Alejandro is bitter.)

"You can't win against someone who has nothing to lose."(Alejandro OR Noah angst.)

Soulmate aus:

My big two: Telepathy/Mentally linked.(imagine this one as a wt rewrite omg) And Whatever you draw on yourself shows up on your soulmate. Matching tattoos.

First words on each other. (I've done this one already here. but feel free to do it as well!!)

Communicating through dreams. (If you know cardcaptor sakura; like that.)

General AUs:

Until dawn AU.

Gakuen Alice AU.

My Babysitters A Vampire AU. Zombie Apoc AU.

Harry Potter AU. Reality Dating Show AU.

Infinity Train AU!!!!!!

Veronica Mars AU!!!! (i wanna do this one ALOT noah is sooo veronica LMAO) OBLIGATORY IDEAS:

seven minutes in heaven.

wrong number.

trapped in a closet.

movie night. noah is sitting under alejandro and lol they are physically, platonically touching for awhile. (leads to finally getting together).

one gets injured, the other fixes them up in the nurses office :P.

short "prompt-ishs" i've started writing:

“What the hell is your problem, Alejandro?” And this time, the tone was so disgusted, so bitter, that something snapped, deep in Alejandro’s chest.

Fuck it.

“What’s my problem?” He asked, incredulous. “What’s my problem? You’ve got to be kidding me, Courtney. I almost died. I almost died, paralyzed and alone, and the only friend I thought I had didn’t give a single shit! The only person who cared was Noah, of all people. I quite literally come back to life and the only thing you can do is whine about your girlfriend problems.”

Courtney takes a step back.

“I was stuck in a robot for months, my legs barely work, my family moved on- actually, I don’t know if they ever actually even noticed,” He laughs, broken, “- and you have the audacity to ask me what my problem is?!”

Alejandro is over playing nice. He’s had enough.

-

this one is a rivals team up to get out courtney blurb

little idea about Alejandro getting into zodiacs.

moments where alejandro questions why Noah is so attractive

-

SEND MORE ASKS IF ANYONE HAS ANY QUESTIONS ON ANY OF THESE IDEAS!!! / IF THEY HAVE ANY IDEAS OR CONCEPTS TO ADD OR EXPAND ON :)))

[p0ssywhippedcream]

I'm back again! So for me, all the one-shots where Percy is being a shit to y/n are like a series of  a toxic relationship, and I WANT HIM TO SUFFER SO BAD. It could be because I despise assholes or because he reminds me too much of my shitty ex (Percy, I adore you, but this is personal now).

Yes, my ex wasn't over his ex while being with me and told me that he preferred to still have the 140 pictures (yes, I remember this detail) of her than be with me.

Like I said before, I would love fluff, but I need vengeance! I NEED IT!

So please, I beg you! Write something that will fulfill my soul; I know you can. I only want him to pay, nothing else.

Love, THE Anon 🧚

I've tried to figure out how to say "fuck your ex" in a creative way but low-key im too tired he's just a douche n im so happy you know you deserve better n you're not with him!!! Also I wrote this sleep deprived on a 8 hour flight n actually kinda hate it but I promised so I deliver.

48 times. 48 times Percy’s called you and 48 times you haven’t picked up. It’s been about two weeks since you left and he hasn’t heard a lick of you, complete silence on your end.

For a while he respected the wall you’d put up, only because he didn’t miss what was behind it. He had Annabeth, his best friend and he didn’t need you.

Then earlier, he was doing the dishes with his mom. She was drying and he was washing and maybe he would’ve noticed her silence sooner if he wasn’t zeroed in on scrubbing off a chunk of fried egg.

When he finally looked up, Percy noticed her staring out the window with the look she only got when she was thinking of his dad and nudged her gently.

“Mom?”

Sally turned and met his questioning gaze. Her eyes were less sad, more reminiscent.

“Sometimes I just wonder, what it would have been like if he stayed.”

Percy nods, thinking of the man in the next room who stepped in the empty role his father left behind.

“I love Paul, my life now, but I just know that... maybe if he tried a little harder, you could have had it a little easier… I won’t ever forget the love I had for him because it gave me you, but I don’t think I’ll ever forgive it either.”

And now he’s sitting on his bed, slumped over his phone with so many wonders. Could you ever forgive him? Why was it so easy to let you go if it hurts so bad now? 

He calls you again, gets your up-beat ringtone and can’t help the surge of anger. It’s misdirected, you don’t deserve it and it immediately returns full force his way with a guilt tenfold.

So he calls you again and you tell him to leave a message at the beep. He hangs up before he can hear it.

His thumb hovers over the little phone on his screen, 50 times is pushing it.

He gives you a break, and waits, and waits, and waits.

And an hour later, his phone rings and he practically pounces on the device. It’s your smiling face shining up at him and your concerned voice echoing when he picks up.

“Percy? You okay? What’s going on?”

“I-I’m okay, I just wanted to talk to you.”

“Percy,” You sigh, “I was seriously freaked out, I thought you might be dying or something.”

“I know, I’m sorry.”

“Okay.”

He heard you take a breath, holding one of his own.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I’m- I’m sorry. I’m really sorry and really stupid and I should’ve apologized so much sooner.”

“Yeah, I know.” He winces, “Anything else?” 

“Annabeth doesn’t mean anything to me that way, it’s you. It’s always been you and I’ve been too blind to see the obvious. I thought I needed her still because I knew I could never ask you to be what she was.”

You don’t say anything, he’s compelled to go on but a little scared he’s already messed up.

“Percy, there’s so much wrong with everything you just said but I don’t have the energy to correct you. I’m tired, it’s been a long day and I really just can’t do this, okay?”

“Wait, p-please,” His voice cracks and he makes no attempt to cover it. “Can you just listen to me?”

“No, I can’t. When I said I was done, I meant it. Don’t call me again.”

And with that, the phone call is over. The dial tone is a harsh contrast to your soft voice, it breaks his heart a little more. He misses you a little more when he pulls the phone away from his ear and sees what he could have had in your profile picture. He hates himself a little more when the next number he’s calling is Annabeth’s and she’s picking up with a care in her tone he only wants to hear from you.

[asterlae]

this time theres just sketches of my girls after finishing the first tgaa uwu

Ok so, that case was just great, mostly bc i had that moment of having my own theories and shit based on the clues the game gave, and then being rewarded by the game by revealing that i guessed it right or being led without to the correct answer without the game telling me directly what the answer was

and i actually have anexample of both situations

for example, the first time we visited the escene after the murder i remeber seeing that bullet stuck in the calendar and thinking "i bet there's a third bullet" bc the amount of blood just seemed suspicious to me and i remebered that sholmes was clutching at his stomach, wich would make it difficult for the bullet to end up in a place that high

and then, in the trial they started to hint at that, with a surgeon as a juror, Van zieks making so much enfasis on them only finding two gun that were only fired once, and then the surgeon talking about leaving something inside a patient... and then, they finally give me an oportunity to confim my suspicions, by confirmig the identity of person that bled bc of the bulley in the calendar... AND I WAS RIGHT!

and then there was the trying to see the diferences between photos by using the stereoscope efect and.... if im being honest i wasnt able to do it, like i tried a lot, very hard, but i just couldnt no matter what i did, so, since i as able to spot the diferences in the photos of the kitten i decided to trust my own ability to spot them without crossing eyes

at the beggining i actually saw the diference of the peephole, but since i didnt have a reason to think it as important since the game decided that the important diference was in the counter, i was like "oh well, maybe it was an error or maybe it as moved in a way that made it more visible for the camera, but to be honest the detail never left my mind

so, when sholmes brought the cat-flapomat, saying that it was from susato my mind inmediatly went like "oh susato, you fucking genius!", bc she is, like, i have thought that from the beggining but that moment was for me, like, she broke my mind, i love her, shes such a nerd

admitedly, i like ryuunosuke, i think he is great, i get sometimes frustrated with him, in the same way i get furstrated with other aa protagonist when they act as if theres no hope when i alredy know the answer but like, thats on me

but that moment of him saying that he doesnt care what he has to do to protect his client when we decided to threaten gregson was the best in all the trial, just damn, im on my knees

anyways, im excited for tgaa 2

[apomaro-mellow]

Demon!Eddie 5

At some point, Eddie had cleaned Steve up a little and dressed him in a tank top and shorts. The shirt had a band he’d never heard of but maybe Eddie would tell him about it sometime. Steve had tried to get up on his own only to immediately fall back onto the bed when he felt a sharp pain. That would be last night, coming back to literally bite him in the ass.

“Job hunting’s gonna have to wait”, Eddie grinned.

Eventually they migrated to the couch back in the apartment, Eddie lying on his back and Steve right on top of him. He found it very easy to imagine if the rest of his life was like this. In Eddie’s clothes, in his place, completely surrounded by him.

Steve didn't even know where his clothes from the first night went and he didn't give a flying fuck. Not when he was laying on top of Eddie, getting his lower back rubbed.

"Don't get a big head about it. That was the first dick I ever took."

“I didn’t say anything”, Eddie said.

“I can feel it in your hands”, Steve replied before letting out a soft hum as Eddie’s fingers pressed a spot on his spine. 

The morning was spent so lazily and for the first time in a long time, Steve wasn’t thinking about his future or what he was supposed to do about it. He just relaxed in Eddie’s hold. The only time he worried was when Eddie got up to say he was making breakfast. Steve ignored any soreness to confirm if his suspicions were correct.

And to his horror, Eddie dumped ground coffee into a pot, filled it with water, and then set it all on the stove. 

“You’re an animal”, Steve said.

“I think we established that last night”, Eddie smirked.

“I’m talking about your coffee set up. Where’s your coffee maker? Your filters?”

“What’s wrong with the way I make coffee?”

“Tony the tiger wouldn’t make it that way.”

Eddie’s retort was cut off by a knock on the door and a man’s voice. “Eddie? Edifice Edacity Edger you open this door right now!”

“Shit!”

“Who’s that?”, Steve asked.

“Uhh, that would be my uncle. Stay here for a second and don’t make a sound.” Eddie pushed Steve towards the magic door and before Steve knew it, he was floating in a dark abyss.

He wasn’t in the lavish bedroom from before, nor was he in any of the places Eddie took him yesterday. It was just an endless void with no gravity. Steve was no stranger to hiding in girls’ closets, but this was definitely different.

“His uncle, huh...”, Steve whispered just in case. He wondered what he was like. Probably terrifying if Eddie was trying to hide him. Maybe he was closer to a more traditional demon and would’ve eaten Steve up or sucked our his soul.

Steve felt like he was flying and floating and descending all at the same time and just as he was starting to feel disoriented, he saw the light of the door opening right next to him and Eddie reaching in. Steve took his hand and was pulled back into the apartment.

“Wayne, this is Steve, my current contractor. Steve, this is my Uncle Wayne.”

Uncle Wayne looked more like the kind of guy who spent his free time at hardware stores and bait shops than a demon. But now Steve felt like it would be rude to ask.

“Hi there, sir. Nice to meet you.”

Wayne’s hands were on his hips as he looked Steve up and down. “Hmph. He’s easy on the eyes, I’ll give ‘im that. But you should know better than to be swayed by a nice face.”

“I’m not being swayed”, Eddie said. “It’s just taking some time to fulfill his request.”

Wayne gave him a disappointed look. Steve knew they were talking about him but couldn’t see what the exact problem was.

“You know how this story ends, son.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “No actually, I don’t. Why don’t you enlighten us, oh wise storyteller.”

“Eddie, don’t be rude to your uncle”, Steve chastised. 

Wayne held up a hand. “He’s a brat, but he ain’t misbehavin’. But my official designation is ‘storykeeper’.”

“A what?”

Wayne waved a hand and glowing tomes materialized all around them. “Every single person that has ever existed, has a story to tell. Demons too. When a life ends, everything gets compiled and their story comes into my hands.”

“So...you know everything that’s ever going to happen?”, Steve asked in awe.

“I’m not omniscient. I only know what happens when the story’s over. But after doing this for as long as I have, you start to notice patterns.”

“And what’s my pattern?”, Eddie raised a brow.

“How does bullheaded young buck gets too caught up in one deal sound? Does that sound like a fit?”

“I’m not-” Eddie rolled his eyes but made the mistake of looking at Steve while doing so and had to quickly avert them.

“I don’t understand how any of this works, but is Eddie doing anything wrong? We have a deal and he’s seeing it through”, Steve said in his defense.

“Most demons ain’t so thorough”, Wayne answered.

“You and I both know most demons ain’t honest either”, Eddie said.

“Eddie, get the deal done. And move on.”

Eddie didn’t respond but Wayne wasn’t waiting for one, already on his way out the door. Steve waited for the door to close to speak again.

“Am I....are you breaking any rules because of me?”

“Rule breaking is a part of my creed, baby. But technically, no. Wayne’s right, most demons would’ve set you up in a new place with a new name and considered their job done. But I pride myself on my customer service.”

Steve smiled. “Right. You serve all your customers the same way?”

Eddie saw the way Steve was looking at him and faltered. “N-no. No, I don’t. But you’re special.”

It certainly made Steve feel special to hear it straight from Eddie. He got the deeper meaning of Wayne’s warning. They were both supposed to be very short chapters in each other’s lives. Ships passing in the night or whatever. Steve knew, once he had figured out what he wanted, Eddie would leave and he’d never hear from him again.

“I think I’m all rested up now. Let’s keep looking.”

“You sure?”, Eddie asked.

“Yeah. After we get some decent coffee.”

--------------------------

Maybe it was because of his uncle’s words, but Eddie kept his distance for the next few jobs. Steve tried not to mind too much. He was going to have to do whatever he chose without Eddie anyway. He spent the rest of the morning into the early afternoon in a summer camp, working as a sports counselor. 

He had plenty of fun teaching some boys the basics of basketball and running them through drills and even getting through a mini game that they all seemed to enjoy. After a couple periods though, he had a free moment and explored the camp. He ended up being wrangled by a group of boys who needed some muscle for a satellite project.

“I didn’t even know we did this kind of thing at this camp”, he admitted, while lugging around machinery he couldn’t even begin to name.

“Yeah, no duh. You sports counselors barely leave Jock Row”, one kid snarked.

“You should come by the Arts and Sciences building some time”, another said. “We’re always doing something cool.”

“Even if it’s not totally legal!”, the one who had grabbed Steve beamed.

“Uh, what’re you guys’ names again?”

“I’m Dustin, the nice one’s Will, and those two are Lucas and Mike.”

“How does Will get ‘nice one’?”, Lucas asked.

“You know Will’s the reason your cabin didn’t get Cinnamon Toast night, right?”, Mike said.

Dustin gave such a gasp, Steve was worried he’d swallowed a lung.

“Our cabin had to do it with biscuits! How could you?”

“They made it a competition and that’s the one kind I can win”, Will shrugged.

They made it to their destination and Steve followed their disjointed directions but eventually the satellite was built and they were talking to the girls camp across the lake. It was completely juvenile and fun and Steve couldn’t remember the last time he’d done something like this. 

The lunch bugle rang and Steve was approached by a black and red frog while the campers went off to eat.

“And what have you been up to? Frog stuff?”

Eddie croaked, then hopped a couple times in place. Steve crossed his arms.

“I’m not picking you up like this. You’re all, slimy. And you look poisonous.”

Frog-Eddie croaked and hopped onto his shoe, still urging at him but Steve was a rock. Eddie transformed back into himself, wearing the camp t-shirt and red shorts that was the counselor uniform.

“You weren’t so picky about my fluids last night”, Eddie smirked, while wrapping his arms around Steve.

“Yeah there’s a difference.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, beautiful~ Lunch and then on to the next?”

“Let’s.”

----------------------------

Eddie had zero idea why Steve wanted to work in an office. But hey, who was he to judge? At least he wasn’t trying to be a cop anymore. 

Steve really just wanted to experience office culture for himself. It was the sort of thing his father had been setting him up for. Before the ritual sacrifice of course. He was put on mailroom duty and that was where he met his worst enemy - Robin Buckley.

She sneered and scoffed at him most of the time. And when she deigned to use words, her comments were always biting. Delivering mail wasn’t too bad, except the fact that most of the employees barely looked him in the face while delivering. He came to the break room and Robin was already there. He tried to ignore her while getting a yogurt from the fridge.

He leaned against it when another guy came in. Steve was pretty sure his name was Kenneth.

“Hey, it’s the mailroom crew!”, he smarmed while refilling his mug with coffee. “You know Robin you should, maybe not scowl so much the boys here appreciate a nice smile.”

Kenneth walked out before he could see Robin’s megawatt dirty look. She glanced at Steve and saw he had the same look as her.

“What an asshole”, Steve said.

“That’s putting it lightly. There’s so much as, there’s no hole left”, Robin snarked.

Steve slid over closer to her so they could continue to talk in whispers. The people here were jerks but he might choose to work with them one day.

“At least he’s better than Nick.”

Robin wretched with her tongue out. “You know he slept with Norma at the Christmas party?”

Steve raised a brow. “Nick? With the ring on his finger and the happy family picture in his cubicle?”

“Yeah.”

“Scumbag.”

They spent more than was probably allowed on their break, trading gossip. Steve only got distracted when he saw a very attractive janitor roll by with his mop and bucket. Without a word, he walked off and followed him right into the closet.

“You’ve been wandering around more”, Steve said as the door closed.

“Just tryina give you space baby. Wouldn’t wanna influence your decision”, Eddie grinned, taking the cap off his head.

“And what if my decision was to blow off work and have some fun with the cleaning guy in the broom closet?”

“Sounds like the opposite of climbing the corporate ladder”, Eddie grinned while unzipping his jumpsuit.

“The opposite of climbing is what again?”, Steve said as he sank down to his knees.

Part 7

Tag Team

@swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @estrellami-1 @weirdandabsurd42 @lololol-1234 @chaoticvictorianspirit @giopandaonice @marklee-blackmore @blackpanzy @kacatshi @stevesbipanic @goodolefashionedloverboi @panicatthediaz @gregre369 @littlewildflowerkitten @starryeyedpoet17 @envyadams-vs-me @abbiecadabi-blog @genderless-spoon  @stxrcrossed186 @l0st-strawberry @willowsmelody @bornonthesavage @mxmakessense @roaringgoodshow @potato-of-the-lord @actualwakingnightmare @meccaminayah @irregular-child  @cherr1ehead @anaibis @finalmoondragon @sani-86 @bestwifehaver @tinyplanet95 @mc-i-r @abstractnaturaldisaster @livgil273 @crowley--aziraphale @formacoon @slv-333 @just-a-tiny-void @beckkthewreck @awkwardgravity1 @plasticcrotches

[snekdood]

You fucking idiots dont fucking get it. ive been taking care of plants since i was 14. Ive tried FUCKING EVERYTHING. Fungus gnats are just apparently gonna exist around me no matter what i do or try, apparently just like these yerfs who also seem to be breeding like maggots.

[urproblematicfav-arsonk]

ok you made good points for the most part but something in your helluva post confuses me: how in the world has stolas been "sexually abusing octavia the entire series"?

going off of the definition of sexual abuse (rape, assault, trafficking, molestation, coercion, etc.) i cannot think of anything that even remotely points to evidence of that.

surely, SURELY you aren't claiming that just because he said something sexual on the phone in front of her? not even TO her or ABOUT her? that's a misstep for sure, but going so far as to call that sexual abuse is... just not correct.

maybe if he did it on purpose or specifically because she was around, but to me it reads like he forgot she was there and got caught up in the phone conversation. there's no evidence that it happened more than once either, so "the whole series" is a biiig stretch.

i REALLY hope that specific moment isn't what you mean, because that's the kind of claim that really softens the meaning of the term... but i really can't think of anything else that even suggests it.

I feel like theres definitely a way to say "Hey! We seem to disagree on this interpretation of this show! I have no fucking idea where you are coming from, can you explain?" Without turning it into a...definition....of rape.......to the rape victim........and also accusing said rape victim of "softening" language?? Would the term sexual harassment be better?? I personally think it's arbitrary to say "thats not technically sexual abuse, its just weird, stop calling it that" when it's something sexual.....that hurts someone?? Idk its semantics.

So anyway ignoring the vibes you brought to the table, I was talking to my irl friend about Helluva, back when the stolitz shit was happening. And I was complaining because of how CLEAR the abuse in that dynamic is to me. And he was like "I think cuz of your trauma that you're reading into it too much and taking it too seriously." And I was like "IF VIV WANTS POINTS FOR DOING SA REP, THEN IM GONNA TAKE EVERYTHING SUPER SERIOUSLY"

The difference between us is that I was sexually abused, and trafficked(not sex trafficked but still) so when I watch this show, I IMMEDIATELY pick up on things happening there. While he doesn't because he's """normal"""" and not traumatized, so he just sees fun dick joke show about dick and balls. I think a lot of this fandom is a mix of both. People like me picking up on signs, and other people who just are here for jokes and don't necessarily notice all the really bad shit because thats not exactly their lived experience. Completely understandable, I don't hold it against anyone for not noticing it the way I do. But I do see it, and wanna bitch about it.

We're in hell. This show is set in the actual human bible hell damnation hell for hell people. I think there's a way to read some characters as "uwu babies", but I'm not gonna. It's hell. In hell. I'm going to be giving no one the benefit of the doubt, and assume the worst in people until proven otherwise. Especially when the characters in question are dickbags who never actually change.

What Stolas is doing is...sexual harassment? Is that better??? Stolas is openly engaging in pretty intense kinkplay around his daughter and that is in fact, Bad.

(its also entirety possible Octavia knows that this dynamic is sexually violent and is forced to listen to her dad want to rape a guy, and no dont come telling me thats wrong too, fuck off.)

And as someone who's been through the exact same kind of trauma as Octavia, I can say it definitely fucked me up✨ The only thing I'll give Stolas is that it doesn't seem like he's been doing this around her since she was a small child like I was, but its still bad. That's still inappropriate behavior, that's still something he should know to stop immediately when he sees she's around. Octavia is a depressed, struggling teenager who needs love and support while dealing with this sudden divorce. Stolas spends EVERY episode that is supposed to be about them, either tryna fuck Blitz in front of her, or ignoring her to interact with Blitz and or yell at Stella.

Stolas' problem as a character(not a bad thing, this should be a story/character arc) is that he's deeply entitled, and doesn't see how is actions effect others. Stolas is upset that he was forced into marriage? Wow, isn't Stella such a bitch for doing that too him? No empathy for the woman also being raped and abused through this forced marriage. Stolas is gay and wants to fuck? Let's not think about the class difference, and that he's literally holding Blitz' survival in his hands in exchange for cock. Stolas wants the sexual experiences he was robbed of because of his trauma? Who cares if it destroys his family and makes his daughter feel worthless, he wants to sext. His arc should be about facing the fact that he's abusive, and hurtful. He is hurting Blitz, and Octavia with his sexual behavior. But if he was supposed to be a "good" character with "good intentions", then he should have no problem apologizing and ACTUALLY changing. Stolas doesn't seem upset that they're upset, he's upset he got "caught". He's upset Blitz demands respect and doesn't suck his dick the second he shows any remorse. He's upset that he can't fight Stella and fuck all he wants and instead has to deal with his moody teenager ACTUALLY needing attention and support. My comment about "the entire series" is because the only things we see are the bad parts of their relationship with no development, even if its only a few episodes.

Also since we're playing the virtue game, saying "but he didn't do it on purpose" is actual victim blaming and rapist apologist behavior so like, good job?? Saying rape or sexual abuse isn't as big of a deal just because it was an accident, or unintentional is definitely a take to have. Now, I'd say this is a stupid furry series that doesn't matter in the long run, but you're the one whining about language??

Anyway. Hazbin/Helluva are poorly made shows that annoy me. Pls stop fucking with people about shit like "softening" language and all that "real victims" and all that purity culture savior complex bullshit. Its super weird. Rambling times over, its like 5am im going back to sleep. Also I'm proship, this is media analysis not a moral thing except for the part where I was fucked with over language.

[wannaeatramyeon]

mooooom! i got a request for youuu~ 💌

-young reader learned taekwondo from hansu, but never got to meet his son. so, she only knew taehoon from hansu's stories and cute photos of him aaand that's how she developed a crush on taehoon. years later, she finally meets him... but her "cute" image of him immediately shattered the moment he opened his mouth; chaos ensues 💀

this scenario has been on my mind for a while now and it makes me giggle to an unhealthy degree that i want an entire fic of it 😭 also if it wasn't obvious, i thirst for hansu content 🥺🫶 tysm in advance 🤧

p.s. i really REALLY love your fics and your writing aaaaaa 🫠 ik i already told you before and but im saying it again hehe hope you have a great day! ilyy~~ 💖💖

My dear lovely baby Rie! I saw this and thought yes, let's drop everything INCLUDING Tears of The Kingdom and write this.

But... I'm sorry, there really isn't much Hansu in this, it's very very Taehoon centric.

One of the best things about fandom is bringing people together and I'm so happy to have met you!

Seong Taehoon x Reader: Strangers to... a Not-Crush

Follow up with Hansu and Taehoon here

You're pretty sure you're in love with this Taehoon.

The first time you heard his name was during your very first Taekwondo lessons, many many years ago

Schedules, circumstances, situtations; all the usual life happenings has stopped you both from actually meeting.

But Hansu waxes lyrical about his son. You must have heard for the hundredth time how he is a spinning prodigy, how he has surpassed Hansu at a similar age, how he will be one of the best. His name destined to be written in the history books.

As Hansu talks about his son with stars in his eyes, you can't help the shine rubbing off on you too.

.

.

"Y/N, this is Taehoon."

Your jaw drops. Sure, Hansu has shown you countless pictures. Compared to the real living thing though, the gap is so vast you might as well say he's the least photogenic person alive. That's really saying something, because Taehoon photographs well.

He's one of the prettiest boys you've ever seen.

With his lips and eyes and even his goddamn hair. Are those lashes even for real? And then you notice his stature and his muscles, his rock-solid chest and abs peeking through.

Maybe he's not pretty at all. He's fucking hot.

You jaw drops even further.

Why on earth hasn't Hansu ever shown you a full body picture, he could have at least prepared you. Like a cliche, you feel weak at the knees. You feel light-headed-

Then Taehoon opens his mouth and the illusion shatters. Splinters into a hundred million little pieces. With his next words, you've never felt more pissed off in your life.

"Keep looking pervert, and I'll pluck your eyes out,"

What the fuck is this guy's problem.

.

.

For once, the stars align, and you see each other constantly.

You curse the damn stars. You curse Hansu for passing your tutelage to Taehoon. Most of all, you curse Hansu for creating this.

The idea of Taehoon is much better than this... this fucking menace you have to see day in day out.

Taehoon makes you address him as Master. He hits you on the head for stepping out of line (you bite your tongue every goddamn time), he takes no prisoners during your spars together, makes you repeat exercises over and over until you're on all fours and trying not to throw up.

And infuriatingly, he touches you.

Little corrections with his hands, his elbows, his knees, his legs, his foot. "Your stance is shit," he tells you, "your technique is still off," as he taps the offending body parts, mere millimetres out of place. Your cheeks burn every time and your skin is on fire even hours later.

What's worse is your head swims every night with Taekwondo and Taehoon.

Lying in bed, all you can see is him. That antagonising smug smile on his lips. You want to wipe it off his stupidly handsome face.

See if he has any cutting words left when, not if, you beat him in a spar, and you gloat over him, straddling his hips, trapping him between your thighs and you can feel how aroused he is-

Oh.

Shit.

You hug your pillow tighter to your body.

This relevation is a fucking nightmare.

.

.

Taehoon reckons your skills are average at best. What he's most impressed with is your dedication and tenacity.

No matter how many times he kicks your ass, you still get back up for more. Regardless of all his nitpicking and corrections with your form, you take onboard his words and listen.

He hasn't missed that it's all through gritted teeth. Still.

He also hasn't missed you blushing and your breath catching in your throat when he touches you.

Nothing not out of necessity, all completely above board. But it's still funny. Messing with you.

Taehoon tells himself he is completely unaffected. People fawn over him all the time, you looking at him with hearts in your eyes is nothing new.

It's just amusing, that's all.

.

.

You don't know whether this is heaven or hell.

Taehoon piggybacks you all the way from the studio to the emergency room. You're so close you can almost taste him, see all his faint freckles, the vein in his temple from the exertion and concern.

All this proximity is doing nothing for your crush. Which you are determined to get over, by the way. Because this guy is a goddamn asshole and nothing else.

It was a silly accident, really. You went for an opening when there was none, causing Taehoon to mistime his kick. You collapsed like a sack of shit.

Worried hands check up on you even as his mouth runs.

"It's fine," you say, waving off his concern. When you tried to stand up, your ankle is in no mood to bear any weight.

You go down for a second time.

Taehoon's patience is unexpected. He waits with you until you are seen to.

Conversation is strained, and he doesn't talk much, just giving you wary glances every now and then.

But you fill the silence, telling him little anecdotes from your life and your day. Bridging the gap between Taekwondo and the little pieces that make up the rest of your life.

His lips quirk as you speak. The smiles aren't condescending.

Eventually, when the nurse tells you it's just a simple strain and will heal if you keep off it, Taehoon is the one that nods and asks follow up questions.

At the end of the day, after another piggyback this time to your home, you thank him for his time and he is surprised at your sincerity.

.

.

Taehoon doesn't miss you. Definitely not.

The only reason he is at your door with stew and kimchi is because his old man told him to check up on you.

You're not able to attend any lessons while you recover, and Hansu wanted to make sure you're ok. Not Taehoon. Taehoon could not care less. He also did not jump at the chance of seeing you again, so much so that even Hansu gives him a questioning look. Ridiculous.

Why is his palm sweaty? Must just be the heat. Taehoon wipes it on his jeans before knocking twice on your door.

"Come in," you call out, and Taehoon hasn't missed your voice. And he hasn't missed the sight of your face neither.

He doesn't greedily take in the colours of your bedroom, the pictures on your wall, the books on your shelf.

He doesn't memorise your handwriting when he walks past your desk, something that is so uniquely you, like a fingerprint.

And when you give him a shy smile and apologise for the mess, it doesn't affect him.

Nor when you take the proffered food and have a mouthful, Taehoon doesn't soften at this.

The ensuing silence is not comfortable. He doesn't want to stay longer. His fingers don't twitch in your presence, having grown used to casual touches with you.

.

.

This song and dance is continued for the next few weeks only because Taehoon is a good son, and an even better teacher.

He needs to check up on the welfare of his student.

And then finally, after too long, when you show up at the studio again, Taehoon's heart absolutely does not soar.

[miss-multi45]

Hey lovely, it's me 🐝 again :)

I know I just requested not to long ago, and I absolutely loved it, and I was wondering if it's not to much, if you could do headcannons for either ghouls/ghoulettes or sleep token, I had a really shitty day, (im trans ftm) and I just hate when people purposely deadname me or purposely not use my preferred pronouns, I was just wondering how the ghouls or sleep token would react if something like this happens to reader or something. I understand if this is an uncomfortable topic, I know it is for alot of people so don't feel pressured to do it:)

Remeber to stay hydrated and eat something, have a good night/day -🐝

hi sweetheart! ofc I can ♡♡♡

sleep token

iii

talks over them to get the point through

when he realised it was purposely, he grabs their collar and lectures them on respecting you and referring to you correctly

iv

cuts them off "hell no, my girlfriend/boyfriend/lover goes by these pronouns, and you will respect that."

aggressive love, he does that to anyone who deadnames you or uses the wrong pronouns

ii

"uh excuse me, the fuck?!"

gets offended, walks away from them and brings you with him like, "how uncultured are these swines?!" (swines means pigs in British slang)

vessel

"i just think that (incorrect pronouns)-" vessel: "(correct pronouns)" "right, right. well (incorrect pronouns)." vessel: "it's (says correct pronouns in a scary voice)." "o-ok, sorry."

will not stop correcting them

he starts to get threatening if they do it too many times on purpose

ghouls

swiss

gets so defensive

like "oh fuck no, my lover's pronouns are (correct pronouns) and you will fucking respect that, do you understand?"

will not leave it alone until they get it right

sodo

murders them

just kidding..maybe

no, but, he will leave the room with you slung over his shoulder

rain

person: "(incorrect pronouns) is such a-" rain: "oh it's actually (correct pronouns."

didn't know they were doing it on purpose until he saw the smug look on their face

then he developed a passionate hatred for them

phantom

avoids them

its happened before, and he won't let you go anywhere near that person for as long as they live

mountain

stares down at them with judgment in his eyes

they get scared and refer to you properly now

aether

"no, no, no, it's (correct pronouns)."

polite about it in the beginning, then he gets a bit rudely polite about it

like "it's (correct pronouns), use it please."

omega

scoops you up into his arms and leaves

he doesn't stand for that shit, and he will never stand for that shit

alpha

"(correct pronouns), you idiot."

isn't nice about it, at all

he will never do anything nice for that person ever again

ifrit

"(correct pronouns). fucking use it, you dimwit."

doesn't hold back on the insults, because if they're doing it on purpose, they deserve to be mistreated

ghoulettes

aurora

hugs you by the waist and corrects them

"it's (correct pronouns)."

secretly despises that person

cirrus

"my darling is a (correct pronouns). is that clear?"

gets even more protective of you

makes sure that person doesn't do that again

cumulus

"no, (correct pronouns)."

like a teacher telling a child off

treats them like a child to annoy them

mist

"it's not (incorrect pronouns). ask them what their pronouns are, don't assume."

very stern

similar to cumulus

[bluenomad-snufkin]

More about me... be warned im a terrible human

I am 16 - Male, chronically depressed. Un-ironically a genius... and lack real connection.

I like weird music such as, Death grips, Semetery, Adam and the ants, Fried by Fluoride... I LOVE THE SMITHS BTW and nirvana.

i enjoy playing with computers and building them, have about 4 pc's now and 5 laptops, all old stuff cause i like old computers.

Linux enthusiast - I use mint :3

I own a shit CRT but its fun to use- lain core </3

Game a fair bit and enjoy games like Chiv2-Cof-Postal1/2-Tf2-project zomboid- Counter strike source and 2. silent hill series could go on and on but you get the idea

hmu if u want to game cause all my friends are ass at "these sort of games"

i enjoy some weird interests as well:

tcc, photography, design, steam power, engines in general, motorbikes, hacking, ELETRIC GUITAR, and acoustic, gambling, baking, cooking, pirating, audiophile, 3drinting, preservation of old tech, blacksmithing, reading, Gel-Blasting (for the Americans it is australian Airsoft in short), old game console modding, anime and movies.

That's probably the list ngl

I read a lot and i like to discuss deep philosophical concepts and the "psychology" of humans. (if you couldn't tell I'm a 'misanthrope')And talking about societal constructs and all that stuff... not many people like talking about that stuff.

a good way to describe me would be Lain but mentally Dr house. in the sense of dislike of just about everything and my attitude towards others and life its self.

I don't know why I am the way I am... I truly am a miserable person, i have my moments but I honestly am, and I make others very miserable just by more or less existing with them.

This blog is kind of apart of my journey to becoming something else, I think self discovery would be the wrong term but the closest set of words I can think of too how I feel.

some more personal stuff...

I am incredibly lazy, not to the point of not showering or never leaving bed but more "surrogate activates" - Ted K, or meaningless and basic tasks/activates, I don't really participate in class due to the fact i somehow know most of it (I'm ignorant too) I don't really like doing things like- actually this is hard to explain but the best way i can describe it would be doing this that have to value to me or my future.

I don't have a problem connecting with people but I find my self ALWAYS not actually caring for them or there feelings. I don't believe at this point in time I could name more than one person I really care for. I would label this a selfish but its not like to treat my self any better. maybe that is how i punish my self, any insight on this topic would be much apricated.

I seem to have sort of desire for Control - i think this because i love just watching people listening and anticipating what people will say, do, think, act, its some sort of game for me (i really don't know how to put this) and id have to say 80% of the time my guess are correct, i am a ""master"" of determining and analysing humans, its really weird and i don't understanding where or even how i developed this skill from. i often find my self using this to just piss people off and see how mad i can get someone (i mainly do this online).

A lot of human thinking and reactions piss me off, I hate how some people think and interact with this world i don't seem in some case even understand why these people are like this i s just know and know that they are. I'm not sure if i wish to be like them or for "them" to be like me.

I truly am a troubled and misunderstood person.

one may conclude that I'm autistic or have some other form of genetic/ mental illness, to that i say, are you fucking retarded... do you understand anything in this world or that of the human mind?

Maybe you do, if so please critiqueme and tell me why i am me.

I have been tested for Autism and ADHD, both Negative not sure by what margin although.

My best guess is that i am simply "hyper realised" or some other buzz words - or are a lot of people this way...???

Just been reading and editing this massive ass post, there are so many other things i could go on about, like the government, being clean, family, longing for societal escape, tictok, but you probably don't care just as i wouldn't.

Any way enjoy my weird blog i guess if you read this and where not turned away. lol

-last minute add don't know where to put this but i love tcc cause I'm "obsessed" with there minds, motives and stuff like that.