#how to retire in less than a year
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"How to Earn Money Without Recruiting Anyone!"
In a world frequently overwhelmed by network marketing and referral-based pay income programs, the thought of bringing in cash without recruiting anybody might appear to be a challenging task. However, there are several ways to achieve financial success that don’t depend in building a group or enlisting others to join an opportunity that realize on others. In this article, we will investigate…
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"[Elizabeth Woodville's] piety as queen seems to have been broadly conventional for a fifteenth-century royal, encompassing pilgrimages, membership of various fraternities, a particular devotion to her name saint, notable generosity to the Carthusians, and the foundation of a chantry at Westminster after her son was born there. ['On other occasions she supported planned religious foundations in London, […] made generous gifts to Eton College, and petitioned the pope to extend the circumstances in which indulgences could be acquired by observing the feast of the Visitation']. One possible indicator of a more personal, and more sophisticated, thread in her piety is a book of Hours of the Guardian Angel which Sutton and Visser-Fuchs have argued was commissioned for her, very possibly at her request."
-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: The Knight's Widow", "Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, Dynasty"
#historicwomendaily#elizabeth woodville#my post#friendly reminder that there's nothing indicating that Elizabeth was exceptionally pious or that her piety was 'beyond purely conventional'#(something first claimed by Anne Crawford who simultaneously claimed that Elizabeth was 'grasping and totally lacking in scruple' so...)#EW's piety as queen may have stood out compared to former 15th century predecessors and definitely stood out compared to her husband#but her actions in themselves were not especially novel or 'beyond normal' and by themselves don't indicate unusual piety on her part#As Laynesmith's more recent research observes they seem to have been 'broadly conventional'#A conclusion arrived at Derek Neal as well who also points out that in general queens and elite noblewomen simply had wider means#of 'visible material expression of [their] personal devotion' - and also emphasizes how we should look at their wider circumstances#to understand their actions (eg: the death of Elizabeth's son George in 1479 as a motivating factor)#It's nice that we know a bit about Elizabeth's more personal piety - for eg she seems to have developed an attachment to Westminster Abbey#It's possible her (outward) piety increased across her queenship - she undertook most of her religious projects in later years#But again - none of them indicate the *level* of her piety (ie: they don't indicate that she was beyond conventionally pious)#By 1475 it seems that contemporaries identified Cecily Neville as the most personally devout from the Yorkist family#(though Elizabeth and even Cecily's sons were far greater patrons)#I think people also assume this because of her retirement to Westminster post 1485#which doesn't work because 1) we don't actually know when she retired? as Laynesmith says there is no actual evidence for the traditional#date of 12 February 1487#2) she had very secular reasons for retiring (grief over the death of her children? her lack of dower lands or estates which most other#widows had? her options were very limited; choosing to reside in the abbey is not particularly surprising. it's a massive and unneeded jump#to claim that it was motivated solely by piety (especially because it wasn't a complete 'retirement' in the way people assume it was)#I think historians have a habit of using her piety as a GOTCHA!' point against her vilification - which is a flawed and stupid argument#Elizabeth could be the most pious individual in the world and still be the pantomime villain Ricardians/Yorkists claim she was#They're not mutually exclusive; this line of thinking is useless#I think this also stems from the fact that we simply know very little about Elizabeth as an individual (ie: her hobbies/interests)#certainly far less than we do for other prominent women Margaret of Anjou; Elizabeth of York;; Cecily Neville or Margaret Beaufort#and I think rather than emphasizing that gap of knowledge her historians merely try to fill it up with 'she was pious!'#which is ... an incredibly lackluster take. I think it's better to just acknowledge that we don't know much about this historical figure#ie: I do wish that her piety and patronage was emphasized more yes. but it shouldn't flip too far to the other side either.
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Aaah. So it's neverending huh.
#my dad had been bugging me about getting a raise for months#it took me a while to actually find who to email to ask and how to go about it too.#but i did it! and i went from 19$ to 20.72$#and i was happy with that#and originally i wasnt going to tell my dad but he wasnt letting up about it and when i told him the numbers#he was dissappointed.he told me he spoke to people working from another company and they make 25#this was while i was stuck out on the supposed to be a hike but was actually hunting trip#now i just feel bad about it again. and i cant get my good feeling back goddamnit#i know its out of love/concern because hes very financially very successful and its tough seeing your kids work so hard and still be poor#but hey im now technically making 40 cents less than your daughter whos a doctor.#you graduated during a time where universities had skip days and they were less focused on proper essay formats#you also had living accommodations where apparently you could make your whole rent in a week of work#you also didnt need to pay for internet the way we do#you also had rrsp matching and Christmas bonuses and health insurance and company retirement funds#you had days off. you ask if i get a certain holiday off. like i havent worked full days christmas eve and boxing day the previous 5 years#also gas probably wasnt 80$/week just to go to and from work#and thats if you work and live in town#we had a phone call and he brought up my wage again this morning
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when freedom is in sight!!!!!!!!
#(aka it’s my last day of work!!!!!!!!! i can see the light at the end of the tunnel!!!!!)#it’s like 2.30 in the am rn and i have to get up in less than 4 hours but. still!!!!!#im too happy to sleep lmao i feel like a kid on christmas eve again#this weirdass company culture says that we (the leavers) have to treat everyone to pizza or sth#isn’t it usually the other way round though? shouldn’t they be treating the leavers as a show of gratitude for their hard work?#but eh. the place is filled with cheapskates who only think about working us to the bone for the sake of their profits (i think)#so ✨s o r r y✨ dear managers no treats for you~~~~~ im giving ind*m*e (censored for copyright) to my immediate colleagues only~~~~~~#you can always feel free to treat me though~~~~~ :)))) my wallet is always open for donations dear managers o’ mine~~~#(this manager who expects me to treat everyone also outright refused when i asked her to treat me to beef wellington though :( sads :( )#(i worked sooooooooooo hard for you over the past couple o’ years and i dont even get free beef wellington~~~? :( )#but euuuugghhhhhhhhh since the team lead’s on leave today ig i’ll be the one in charge for the morning shift today too…#but it’s my last day~~~~ i wanna relaxxxxxxxxxx (<-same person who took a short nap on the clock earlier)#anyways!!!!!! i’ll finally have time for idol sengen after this aw yissssssssss wait for me asuna-chan im almost freeeeeeee#though. speaking of idol sengen… im still waffling about whether to have asuna drop swear words during the [spoiler] scene…#i mean. it’d make sense in terms of context/how abrasive she was being but. she’s an idol!!!!!!! choices man..#well. i guess that it’s retirement-me’s problem to think about lol. i need to get through just 1 day of work first!!!!!!#‘it’s starting to sound like you quit your job to tl idol sengen—’ n-noooooooo~~~? totally not i s w e a r!!!!
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youtube
Poolside with Daniel Ricciardo | Lissie Mackintosh
#daniel ricciardo#m:sm#dan#monaco23#video#less than a minute in and she's telling him she thinks this time next year the pool will be full of water and he'll be jumping in#she's SOOOOOOOOO me fr#also later when he's talking about how he doesn't feel done or retired and she's like 'so we think next year will be a good one?'#and he responds 'that's the plan. yeah that's the plan.'#then says that his monaco18 pool jump is so iconic he doesn't know if he could top it but he'd love to jump back in the pool one day#i'm so 😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫😵💫#the fact that he keeps bringing that up literally every chance he gets#if not next year 2025 for SURE there's no way it's not#Youtube
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sakamoto days trailer been out for a day and here come the damn stsg stans.
#GET OUTTTTTTTT#calling the dude who retired and became fat (good for him) a zigzag product you are all so annoying. godbless#i don’t even read sakamoto days but this shit got ME hot like??? stick to not being able to read#god forbid a man has light hair and a bun. y’all some clowns#n e ways i SHOULD get to reading that manga bc it seems like it’ll inflict less pain on me than jjk so. there’s that#g3to stans are a fucking plague congratulations yall made me hate that man more than jjk0 did#can u believe he was my fave when i got into jjk. and now i clown him for not having rct or a domain or a black flash and for being a BITCH#wdym yo arm got blasted off by a 11 year old with anger issues. FIGHT BACK HOE#anyways#sakamoto days#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#will never find it not funny how geto ragged on maki for being a ‘zenin failure’ when he got his ass beat by…nvm#like homie the whole reason you’re where you are is because a homeless man with no CE beat the fuck outta you LMAOOOO#bro even took his worm and got the guts to call MAKI anything like okay
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i will admit i did watch that video of that guy butchering that alligator and every time he made a comment about how fatty the tail was i was like. taking notes.
#the way the tail looked when he broke it down was FASCINATING to me. the way the muscles were grouped.#idk what 🐟s looks like in there i dont think theres a realistic analogue for it but i do think its about 70% muscle tissue?#maybe more? or less when theyre eating consistently#i think they mostly stay really scrawny no matter how much they eat but when they eat better their 🐟 traits get more exaggerated.#takes a lot of energy to make new stuff#so i think it would accelerate a lot when they first leave oz and everyone is eating a Lot just because they can.#their fins would probably get bigger too#and i do think itd slow down again as they got used to consistently having enough to eat but i do think theyre just gonna keep getting More#for the rest of their life. i think at some point theyre gonna start getting 'fins' like. webbing style between their fingers and#maybe between their arms and chest. and i think their back fin is one of the main things that gets noticably a lot bigger really fast#have i mentioned before that i think give them another 20ish years and itll be so cumbersome to be on land that theyre just gonna have#to retire basically#i think about them settling on a river or lake or coast somewhere and just getting to be mermaid boyfriend#i do think theyd still drag themself up onto land especially to hang out with hog but they wouldnt go very far#theyre kind of a lazy shit anyways i think theyd be pretty content to do little tasks around the house and take sunnaps#i like imagining like a little house right on the water just stilts. so they can just pull themself right up without having to walk far#because i imagine itd be a total pain. heavy tail thats probably longer than they are tall...#but do like thinking abt them taking naps on a little dock while hog fishes. sighs.
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#i havent come to terms with the fact that one of the people i held closest to my heart has graduated and i wont see him for a good while#until i can shell out the money to fly to singapore. i get the feeling this is the conductors first shift on the train.#(all the black and breathing rapture) so welcome to charing cross? are you ready? an adminstration error#you are covered in the metallic stench of the rusty chains of command. its time to make four thousand pounds. i thought of you.#here in the garden of england she scrapes the shards of glass from the black sea. first with a spoon and then a knife and the with the#hairdryer that belonged to his mother. in the back of his car i can feel the stutter and jutter of the wheels the same shaky-straight path#of a beginner driver. i love you and the trees. hes finally growing his hair out. here is an enclosed metal room#more man than machine. i wont see you for another year. driving dangerously close to an 8-wheeled tall box i feel safer with you#than i ever will at home. weve already started a campfire in the backseat of your car ive got you didnt i?#we laid in the luxury of a four-person tent next to the mass of campfires and stars and i told her i thought you hated me#I've never hated you. ive never hated anyone except my father. here is how to forgive unspeakable things.#i am really all that ive been looking for. youre not a narcissist baby youve just got a lying problem. take molten gold#and glue the fragments of yourself back together. we cant stop crashing into the sky. drink wine straight from the grapes in the vineyard#and when you give it give it all. studies have shown you view your own future self as a seperate person#and oftentimes you have less empathy for this other person than for a friend. it is time to extend your kindness unequivocally.#the aviation tax attorney on the train floating on water told us a short story of her life. a smile full of charisma and#feeling old retiring at 47. theres a lot about you we shouldn't know. GRAB A GUN AND SHOOT THE IMAGE OF YOURSELF STRAIGHT IN THE MIRROR.
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#ay ay ay. now that the soul crushing project is done ive elected to spend the week managing data#which is decidedly more chill than what ive been doing for the last month but also isnt not doing anything and it isnt getting stuff done#for when i have to move. so thats annoying. and ive been drawing again at least but i can feel the escalation in my controlling behavior#so its now very frustrating trying to draw anything. coloring is gonna take a million years rip.#also suddenly everyone wants to b social rn? like tomorrow my boss is organizing a thing with an old lab mate and this weekend a#collaborator is having a retirement party. and next week my lab mates wanna do a trivia night. and i kno that i should go to these things.#and i will try but i really dont want to go to any of it. mostly for driving reasons but also im a husk of a person rn. but the more#devastating thing is that uh next week one of the kids i grew up with is getting married to a rich girl lol. and like we werent that close#bc i was and am such an asocial freak but after the wedding my parents r picking up their new camper and camping their way across the#country with my sisters. and im sure someone probably told me the dates of these things at some point but if u tell me dates i will#instantly forget them. so thats. ya kno. happening over basically the next 2 weeks while i have to kill myself over measurements for a#different study i dont care abt. and like. its fine. ill see them mid may for a different planned trip. it just makes me kinda sad#a product of living halfway across the country i guess. im just inherently more disconnected to everyone. i would suspect thsts semi#intentional subconsciously. u cant b upset abt not being able to connect with ppl if you create enough physical distance that u never see#them in the 1st place. u cant misunderstand me if i make myself absent and unknowable. idk. i was explaining to my mum that i didnt realize#the timeline and she was like. understandable whatever u wanna do! and idk y that upsets me so much. i guess its just that i dont want to b#doing this. its causing me pain but dont kno how to articulate it in a way that makes sense. whatever. my mouth hurts. my lips r so chapped#that the irritation is spread past my lip line. probably doesnt help thst i keep rubbing at it lol. anyway things r still annoying#less soul crushing thsn last week but still frustrating#unrelated
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youtube
Up and at 'em for workday 6 of 6!
#musical monday#fitz and the tantrums#the walker#somebody remind me#that 30 years ago i was working 7 days a week#for less than 1/10 what i make now#and happy to have that#and maybe i won't think too hard about#how the billionaire class and their whores in congress#have fucked this country so hard#that everything i've spent those 30 years working for#isn't even enough to retire on#without worrying about being bankrupted by getting cancer or some shit#america fuck yeah#Youtube
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This was going to be a very long text post but I restrained myself and made it into a meme instead
#like do you want me to feel bad for you bro#do you want me to feel bad that you’re in the career that you chose and that you say you have no interest in changing#and that you’re going to be able to retire in less than 25 years#all bc You chose to be a fucking masochist about it#???????#it’s understandable to not wanna go to work sometimes or not like your job everyday#but if you literally come into your job everyday and talk about how much you hate not only your job but everyone else in the job#and say that you would never recommend the job to someone#maybe that’s your own fucking problem and you should stop projecting it onto everyone else around you#and again to be clear I’m not talking about people who get stuck in a shitty job for financial reasons or whatever#but Jfc stop complaining that some people wanna be happy in life just because you choose not to be#memes
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I think it should be absolutely mandatory that people work at least a month in a blue collar job and take time to learn about their coworkers before making a statement about blue collar work. I simply think it would fix so many things.
#melon rambles#my father (who makes over 100k a year in his comfy computer job where he can work from home and honestly doesn't even do that much technica#stuff and works less than 40 hours a week) talked about the horrible overtime requirements of the factory I work at#as 'well that's what you get. You just take that job for a bit until a better job comes around'#and it's like. This IS the 'better job' for most people I work with!#Like we live in a small town with maybe 30 companies total that anyone could work at#one of my friends has lived in this town for over a decade and almost exhausted his job options here#because there's only one company in this area that could use his degree but they said he doesn't have enough experience so they refuse to#hire him. Meanwhile he's got a family and bills to pay so he picks up a customer service job and guess what? It sucks#He's worked like at least 10 jobs here and about half of them have had such deep issues (horrible labor law violations. Incompetent manager#who yell at people and cut hours willy billy. Safety issues. You name it)#and now he's trying to find a 'better job' but all of the jobs he can get are bad. And the only good job refuses him for a stupid reason#and that's how it is for a lot of people! Some of my coworkers are 60-70 year olds who can't retire#they've been working blue collar jobs their entire lives and this factory was the most bearable one with good enough pay#it drives me crazy that my father thinks anyone can just somehow work their way up to a job they enjoy#when a lot of people just never get that perfect opportunity#and it also infuriates me how companies can decide to just screw over workers with something like mandated 50+ hour work weeks#and some people can't leave because it's the only job they can get that pays enough to feed their kids#and tangentially related point: blue collar workers are the absolute backbone of society#where would we be without janitors? Construction workers? Factory people? Anything customer service? Maintenence or repair people?#they literally run everything but get treated like absolute crap by companies or looked down upon#it just aaaaaaghhhhhhhggggghhhhhhh#I wish we lived in a world where manual labor jobs were just another career path you could choose of many#and they were deemed respectable honored jobs by everyone#and they were given good pay and good management and working conditions#because honestly from the jobs I've worked. I've actually enjoyed the job itself to some degree#but there were just so many bad management things that made me just dread going in every day.
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“guilty pleasure” | 8.6k
worst!logan howlett x f!reader
SUMMARY: After saving Earth-10005 from impending disaster, Wade convinces Logan, the alcoholic and easily irritated mutant, to stick around for a while. He’s convinced that nothing good can come out of this experience, until he meets you: the charming bartender with a soft spot for swearing that matches his own. Suddenly, sticking around doesn’t seem so bad after all.
WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ fluff. drinking. dirty talk. slow-burnish. grumpy!logan x sunshine!reader. reader is really kind but cracks a lot of jokes. age gap (25 vs 200 - they’re basically the same age). oral sex (f receiving). fingering. finger sucking. soft dom!logan. wade being the funniest asshole. logan calls reader "kiddo/kid”.
A/N: HI! first of all, i'd like to thank you for all the support you showed me on my recent post. let me just tell you that i’m LOVING writing for logan. but none of this would be possible without YOU, so yeah, i fucking love y’all.
** regarding this story, i was planning on making it even longer, but writing these two has been so much fun, and i didn’t want it to end just like that (i have attachment issues as you may infer from this note). therefore, i’ve made the decision to write a second part to this fic, which will contain fluff and other stuff (you already know the drill). i don’t know when i’ll be posting it, but i’m sure it won’t take me that long.
*** i’m also working on other one shots (purely fluff/domesticity because i want this man to cradle me in his arms). anyway, i don’t know if anyone’s going to read this, but still, all I have to say is THANK YOU FOR READING MY WORKS! i hope you really like this silly story i made up :)
**** english is not my first language so if you come across any mistakes don’t hesitate to tell me :)
special recognition to @zloshy who allowed me to rant about my own fic 😭 the sweetest human ever
The bar is far from packed, but then again, it never truly is.
Studying your regulars has become your favorite hobby. Soon you end up knowing their names, the drinks they like, and what time they come through the door. It’s what happens when standing on your own two feet and refilling glasses lose all their charm. A part of you thinks you also do it to make them feel safe. No matter how much you try to deny it, you truly care about their well-being.
Is this your dream job? Nope. Definitely not. You’re pretty sure that holding some stranger’s hair while they empty their insides wasn’t on your bingo card for this year. But sadly money doesn’t grow on trees, and university isn’t going to pay itself. Plus, this was the only job in which your resume was not immediately rejected. It should also be stressed that the drunks happen to love you.
Perhaps this isn’t the life you had always imagined for yourself, but you were getting closer to it. You’d often talk to Adam, a retired psychologist in his seventies. He was without a doubt one of the most loyal clients you’d ever encountered. In the past, he’d even given you free advice on some of your failed hookups. You once told him that in less than two years, you’d be just like him when you got your degree in Psychology. To your surprise, he replied: “You’ll be much better than me, doll. I’m a mess, can’t you see it? You don’t wanna be like me,” his voice was hardly above a whisper as he continued. “I should be at my daughter’s birthday right now, but I didn’t get an invitation this year. Believe me, you don’t want to end up like this old man.”
Like Adam, most of the men who frequented the bar day-to-day saw it as an opportunity to hide within the shadows. In comparison to the other pubs in the area, the one you work at doesn’t receive that much attention from the general public. A dimly lit place where only music from the 80s is allowed. You’re certain that if a health inspector ever came down here, you’d be in serious problems. But hey, you know what they say: do not worry about tomorrow; instead, live in the now.
The atmosphere of the bar shifts dramatically as the main door slams shut with a resounding thud, pulling you abruptly out of your daydreaming. You turn to see who’s arrived, but as soon as your eyes meet his, you’re compelled to look away. Nevertheless, the brief glance you catch of the stranger’s features is enough for you to unlock your phone and send a quick text to your best friend.
You:
cutie patootie alert
there’s this really handsome guy at the bar
i don’t think i’ve ever seen him before
i think i’m in love with him
my night just got a 100% better
Allison:
age
what does he look like
is he bald?
You:
he looks like he could be in his early fifties??? it’s hard to tell UGH i wish you were here
brown hair, beard, 6’2 if i’m not wrong
i didn’t stare at him for too long
otherwise that would’ve been very weird
and no he’s not fucking bald
that happened only once and i was not aware of that gentleman’s lack of hair
Allison:
so you’re dating retired now
get it grandma!
You:
oh fuck you allison
Allison:
it’s okay girl we all have our flaws
just make sure it’s nobody’s father
wait it’s not mine right?
You:
nah your dad’s way hotter don’t you worry about it
Allison:
bitch
Even with the music blasting through the speakers that are attached to the ceiling, you can still hear the low murmur and the whispers. The mysterious stranger seems to have attracted the attention of the other patrons, some of whom have even raised their phones to take photos. Your eyebrows draw together. Why would they do something like this, approaching the man as if he were a celebrity? Since curiosity never fails to kill the cat, you decide to get involved.
“Do I have somethin’ on my face?” you hear him ask the crowd, his raspy voice making your knees wobbly. He sounds enraged. You step on your tiptoes, trying to see what all the fuss is about, albeit it’s pretty hard considering how these men are caging him with their bodies.
The glow of a phone’s flashlight catches your attention, and suddenly, a chair is dragged without much elegance. “Enough of that, y’hear me?”
Enter you now. “Okay, gentlemen, I’m sorry. I’m gonna need you to make some space for me, alright?” you mumble as you gently push them aside. “Thank you, thank you. Y’all can be real sweethearts when you put your minds to it.”
Then you spot him, and it becomes clear why everyone is making such a fuss.
Gary, your worst client ever, steps forward. His nasty breath clouds your senses as he rests one of his sweaty hands on your shoulder. “Doll, it’s the fucking Wolverine. Don’t ask him for a picture, though. He doesn’t seem to be in the mood for that.”
The last thing you needed to see today was a fight (despite your knowledge of who would be the winner). You locate yourself amidst them, shaking your head like a disappointed mother, so as to add a tiny bit of drama to the situation.
“Guys, what you’re doing here is completely inappropriate. I thought I’d taught you better. Imagine if I were to pull this crap on you. You wouldn’t have it.”
Adam presses his lips together, flushing a bit. “She does have a point.”
“Thank you, peanut. You’re still my favorite,” you flash him an honest smile. Scrutinizing the rest of the men, you continue with your speech. “You can still make up for it and fill my tip jar all the way to the top. Deal?” they all scoff, barking their disagreement. “Oh, you don’t like the sound of that? Then leave him alone, okay? Class dismissed! Back to your places,” you clap your hands repeatedly, signaling them to go away. “Chop chop. All this alcohol won’t be drinking itself.”
Just like that, everything goes back to normal in the blink of an eye. Wolverine sits back down in his chair, leaning closer to the table and resting both elbows on it. He examines you, lifting his chin while his brown eyes take in every inch of you.
“Thank you,” he utters, his eyes still trained on your features.
“No need to. It’s what I’m here for,” you point to your work clothes, which consist of an antiqued apron and a silly sticker that has your name written on it. “Can I get you anything to drink? It’s also Burger Night. You can get one for half the usual price.”
(No. It’s not fucking Burger Night. You just happen to find yourself deeply attracted to him.)
He doesn’t seem too eager to hear you talk. “Not hungry at the moment. But I could use some whiskey.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, kid. Very sure.” Well, now he does look annoyed.
“Great. I’ll be back in a minute,” you move as if you were in a race, returning to him after a hot minute. Setting his glass down on the table, you fill it with some old whiskey you don’t even know the name of. Still, he omits that detail, gulping down two-fingers of whiskey as if it were water. “I see you’re thirsty.”
“Could you leave the bottle here?” those brown puppy eyes are begging you to do as he says, and although you’d be happy to oblige, rules are rules.
“Actually, I can’t. The bottle stays on the counter. But you can always join me at the front,” your proposal doesn’t appear to have the desired effect on him. “I won’t talk to you if that’s what you want.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he rubs his neck, drawing a long breath as he stands up.
You can feel many pairs of eyes searing into your soul. The others ask you for more drinks and you pour them, pricking up your ears when you hear them talking about him.
“What a weirdo. Didn’t you see it on TV? He’s not even from this universe,” Gary explains, looking for accomplices to hate on Wolverine. “Let me tell y’all something: he shouldn’t even be here. He’s fucking dead on this earth.”
Yeah… that you knew.
It had been all over the news for weeks. Some would even swear that he was back from the dead, but that was until the representatives from the TVA spoke their truth. If someone would’ve told you a month ago that multiple universes were a thing, you would’ve laughed in their face.
As if that weren’t already difficult to process, your mind does the job of reminding you that there’s a man with metal claws sitting a few meters away from you. Despite that, you can’t seem to be scared of him. There’s something magnetic about his personality and that don’t-come-near-me-or-there-will-be-consequences expression that he has. Why had you promised not to speak to him? Dammit.
“I can hear your thoughts,” a muscle in his jaw twitches after knocking back another glass of whiskey. He squeezes his eyes shut before tapping the table with two fingers, silently asking for a refill.
“I thought you didn’t want me to talk,” you raise one of your eyebrows, and you behold how the corners of his mouth turn up for an instant. “I can assure you your liver hates you.”
“Alcohol won’t kill me, so don’t be afraid. Keep ‘em coming.”
For nearly twenty minutes, he does nothing but drink. He attempts to light a cigar at some point, and you stop him. “You can’t smoke in here.”
“No special treatment?” he inquires, placing the cigar between his parted lips and tilting his head back. He’s so… dreamy. He has to know it.
“I saved your ass today. The least you can do is not cause me any trouble.”
His eyes widen at your words, blinking owlishly. “You saved my what?”
“Your goddamn ass. You were about to start a fight.”
“Blame the idiots you have for clients,” he says, jerking his thumb toward your direction. “I was just mindin’ my own business. They came for me, not the other way around.”
“Look, Wolvie. I–”
“Wolvie?” giving a bitter laugh, he rams a hand through his hair. “That’s the worst nickname I’ve heard in a long time,” he looks at you through his lashes, getting rid of his leather jacket. “It’s Logan.”
“Wow. Your name is very boybandish.”
You succeed in making him laugh once again. It’s the perfect opportunity for you to observe his face without feeling like you were just about to get caught. He has deep creases and worry lines etched between his eyebrows, a brown beard that perfectly frames his jaw, and a few white hairs scattered in his sideburns. Pearly teeth that go hand in hand with one of the most impeccable smiles you’ve ever seen, and a pair of brown eyes that make you feel weak in the knees. You know for a fact that he’s a lot older than you; his exact age remains a mystery, but his appearance is enough for you to start fantasizing.
Shit, you want him. You should feel sickened by the mere thought of being with him. He was born God knows when, has lived hundreds of years. Still, the idea of tracing his cheekbones with your fingers while lying on his chest doesn’t leave you. This is fucked up. You are fucked up. A fucked up Psychology student. The joke is pretty much self-explanatory.
“So this is where you’ve been hiding, you preening slut. Can’t even bother to answer my calls now?”
The tension between you shatters like a glass dropped onto the floor. He doesn’t dare to look in the direction of the owner of that voice, not even as the seat next to him gets taken. He pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Wade, what the hell are you doin’ here?”
“It hasn’t been exactly easy, raising our kid on my own. I don’t even have money to hire a babysitter, Lo. I spent nine months carrying your child, and for what? You end up going after a bartender,” the masked man turns to you, giving a sly wink. “No offense, baby. You must be a real sweetheart. In fact, do you want my number? The name’s Wade, but you can call me whatever you like.”
“You dumb fuck. Are you flirtin’ with her?”
“No shit, smartass. You’re the future of this country.”
A soft giggle escapes you despite your attempt to hold it back. You take a step back, admiring the two men. “Well, aren’t you two a beautiful couple?”
“You should see our little munchkin. He’s got my eyes and Logan’s hair. His first word was gubernatorial.”
“Would you like to have a drink while you’re here?”
“A beer would be great. Thank you, sugarbear. You’re the cutest,” Wade sinks back into his chair, resting his chin on his palm. He jerks his head in Logan’s direction, bumping his shoulder. “She’s the cutest. Are you two together?”
Logan rubs his forehead, speaking through gritted teeth. “How did you find me?”
“It's the power of love, baby. I had It’s All Coming Back To Me Now on repeat for hours. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Handing Wade a cold beer, your eyes scan Logan’s face. “I didn’t know patience was your strongest suit.”
“Me neither.”
“Enough of that! I can’t stand not being included in a conversation,” Wade throws his hands in the air, and you look at him. “There you are. So, what about you? Are you even allowed to be here? Did bars change their policies?”
You can’t help but snort. “I’m 25.”
Wade looms closer, lowering his voice. “Now that I think about it, you could totally be Logan’s caretaker. He’s been having some issues recently, given his age. Do you… know anything about adult diapers?”
But then Logan’s face contorts, turning crimson. He rises from his seat, grabbing Wade’s arm. “That’s it. We’re leavin’,” his eyes lock on you for a moment. “How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s on the house.”
The things you’re willing to do for a man, right? You should be ashamed of yourself.
(But you aren’t.)
His mouth hangs open in disbelief. “Kiddo, are you–”
“Completely sure,” you finish his sentence for him, bowing your head and clasping your arms behind your body. A tight-lipped smile takes over you. “Just don’t tell my boss.”
Wade shifts his gaze back and forth between Logan and you. “I usually don’t mind third-wheeling, but I sort of feel left out.”
“I’m gonna sew your mouth shut, Wade.”
“Oh, come on! I was just making small talk,” the masked man tries to excuse himself while Logan pushes him towards the door. “It was a pleasure meeting you, sunshine. I’m free on Thursdays. Hit me up if his whiskey dick fails to impress you! Mine’s way more agile and young!”
As you watch them leave the bar, you remain frozen in your place amidst the clamor of ongoing chatter and clinking glasses.
What the fuck had just happened?
“Patrick’s normally the first one to get wasted during weekends,” you explain to the blonde woman sitting in front of you, and she writes that information down in her notebook. “He can usually handle himself, but at some point, he’ll try to call his ex-wife, and that’s when you know you need to stop serving him.”
She clicks her tongue, the color draining out of her face. “This is… definitely a lot to remember. I think I already forgot half of what you said.”
You shake your head, shoving your hands in your pockets. “You’ll get used to it, believe me. I’ll be with you at all times, so if you have any doubts, just ask me.”
After a whole year of working solo at the bar, you finally get to have a coworker: Gwen, a mother of two teenagers in her forties. You had met her at the grocery store, and in the process of helping her find a specific brand of cookies, you found out that she had recently lost her job. One thing led to another, and now she’s your trainee.
Your savior complex strikes again!
It has been four days since your first encounter with Logan. The thought that he could show up at any moment makes your heart race and your hands sweat. Allison had received countless voice messages where you narrated the entire experience in full detail.
Touching your arm softly, Gwen’s face lights up. “Another man came in. Is he a regular? I don’t think you told me about him.”
Fuck, it’s him. Manifesting does work wonders. He locks eyes with you and raises a hand in greeting.
“Leave this one to me,” you tell her as your feet take you to where Logan’s sitting, contemplating the way in which his leather jacket hugs his wide frame. “Long time no see.”
“Hey, kid,” he grins. “What’s up?”
“Nothing much. Nobody has puked yet, so that’s a good thing,” you crinkle your nose, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “Whiskey?”
“You know me so well,” a smirk takes place in his lips, and he smiles cockily. “Though this time, I won’t be leavin’ without payin’.”
“We’ll see about that,” you go back to your usual spot behind the counter, looking for a glass. Your cheeks kind of hurt from smiling so hard. Next to you, Gwen studies your reaction to seeing Logan. “Is that your boyfriend?”
You almost drop the whiskey bottle. “God, no. He’s not my boyfriend. Barely know the guy.”
“It’s funny,” she says, raising her eyebrows with a knowing look, as if she knows something you don’t. “He hasn’t stopped looking at you since he arrived.”
“It’s probably because of this,” you reply, lifting the bottle in her direction before pouring a small amount into a glass. Just as you’re about to walk over to him, a girl slides into the sit beside him, her long blonde hair swept up in a ponytail. She’s wearing a stunning red dress and black heels. You wonder if she’s a model, because she certainly looks like one.
Her hand creeps up his arm, fingernails scraping against the worn leather. Although Logan’s expression is hard to read, he doesn’t even flinch.
“You know what? Here’s his drink– You take care of it. I’ll stay here,” you don’t give Gwen a chance to talk back, instead staying behind the bar, engaging in small talk with other clients.
“Doll, are you okay?” Adam asks you after noticing you struggling to open a beer bottle. He takes it from your hands and opens it with ease. “There you go.”
“Thank you, Adam. I’m fine, never been better. Why you ask?
“You sure?”
“Affirmative.”
“You mixed up our drinks,” he explains in his most psychologist-like voice. “This never happens to you. Michael has my wine, and I’ve got his martini.”
“Fuck! I’m so sorry. I just— I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” you chew on your bottom lip, rubbing your temples. “I feel stupid.”
“Oh, please. Don’t say that. You’re far from being stupid,” he sits up straight, reaching for your fingers and giving them an apologetic squeeze. “If you ask me, I think you’ve got your mind on someone else,” he must notice how you visibly get tense because he adds: “Remember: I know when you’re lying. You didn’t charge him the other day, which means that you must really like him,” taking a tentative sip of the martini he didn’t even ordered, Adam shrugs. “I’m a great observer. That’s all.”
Out of the corner of your eye, you see the blonde girl from before returning to where her friends are chatting. Logan is left alone, and you watch him grab his glass and head towards the counter.
“As I said, your mind’s somewhere else,” Adam sighs, a tiny smirk tugging at his lips. “Go get your man. I’ll survive.”
“Not my man. But thanks, older-and-wiser-version-of-cupid.”
Pretending not to have seen Logan, you continue with your work. He remains silent for some minutes before finally saying: “Hi.”
Hi? It sounds so out of character for him.
“Hey, claws,” you force a smile, still avoiding to meet his gaze. “Do you need anything?”
Logan points to his empty glass, like a toddler asking for more cereal. “I also wanted to talk to you.”
“I thought you were busy over there,” you say, surprisingly managing to sound nonchalant, despite the jealousy bubbling underneath your friendly tone. “Did you get her number?”
“What? No.”
“Why not? She’s cute.”
Yeah, maybe you don’t sound as collected as you think.
Whether Logan notices it or not, he chooses not to mention it. He folds his arms over his chest, fixing his brown eyes on you. “I’m not interested.”
“And what is it that interests you, champ?” your question elicits a low chuckle from him. Just as he opens his mouth to seemingly reply, Gwen appears out of nowhere to ask you about the price of a certain drink. Your gaze shifts between her and Logan, who remains focused on you while sipping his drink.
After that, Gwen leaves. The man in front of you goes poker-faced, pursing his lips, and his abrupt change in demeanor alarms you. “Wade wants to have dinner tomorrow at his apartment– well, our apartment. I live with him now. It’s complicated,” he adds with a dismissive wave of his hand, and you laugh. “Anyway, he asked me to tell you that you’re invited. I know we don’t know each other that much, but… he said you seem like someone worth havin’ around,” he mumbles awkwardly, eyes downcast. “I think the same as well.”
You could die at peace.
“You’re a lucky fucker because I don’t work on Sundays,” you quip, smiling. “I’d be more than happy to attend your feast.”
“Great. I thought you would turn down the invitation.”
“Now why would you think that?”
“‘Cause you barely know me– us,” he corrects himself rapidly. “Plus, Wade’s annoying as hell when he puts his mind to it. You’ll see.”
“Marital problems?” he actually in response. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. Oh, I’ll bring the dessert.”
“You don’t have to.”
“But I do want to,” you tilt your head in an effort to hide your longing for him.
“Just want to get under my skin, huh? I can see why Wade likes you,” Logan beams, reaching out to tuck a $100 bill into the pocket of your apron. “The tip’s included.”
“I don’t know how things work in your universe, but you’re giving me way more money than you’re supposed to. I can't accept this.”
“Oh, but you will,” his gravelly voice fucks your system up, and you’re glad he can’t see how you squeeze your legs together behind the bar.
He writes down Wade’s address on a random napkin, holding his breath as he stands up. “I should get goin’. See you tomorrow then.”
Before he walks out the door, you stop him. “Logan? You didn’t answer my other question.”
His back shakes momentarily with laughter. Turning around to face you, his stare leaves you even more confused. “Good night, doll.”
This is becoming a habit: every time he goes away, you feel as though you’ve just run a marathon with no water available. Your mouth is completely dry, your fingers are numb and there’s a knot in your stomach that’s becoming all too familiar.
“Would you mind telling me where you got him?” Gwen’s voice makes you almost jump out of your skin.
“He’s not from around here. I think he’s Canadian.”
You’ve got this. You’ve got this. You’ve got this.
Knocking softly on Wade’s door, you step back, the container holding the tiramisu cold to your touch. It’s your first time trying out this recipe, so you’re expecting it to at least not taste like shit.
Wade answers the apartment door, acting surprised when you remain silent. “Well, look what the wind blew in: if it isn’t my husband’s lover. How dare you? We’re still going to couples therapy.”
You show him the container, and he squints at it. “Tiramisu. You want it or not?”
“I hate twenty-somethings,” he says with a defeated sigh, stepping aside to let you into the apartment.
Leaving your purse on the nearest surface, you scan the living room, wondering where Logan might be. There’s a small mirror beneath the couch, and you check yourself for the hundredth time tonight. “Don’t get too excited. He’s still showering,” Wade’s voice rings in your ears, and you turn to look at him, your eyebrows knitted. “Yeah. I noticed. You’re already drooling over that big piece of metal between his legs.”
“Keep quiet!” you cover his mouth with your palm, noticing the scarred state of his skin up close. “Wade, you fucking dog. Are you licking my hand?”
“Couldn’t help it. You taste like mascarpone cheese and espresso.”
Then Logan emerges from the bathroom, with only a white towel draped around his waist. Droplets of water fall from his wet hair, tracing the muscle of his abs, ending somewhere beneath his happy trail. Your eyes keep flickering between him and his torso until he clears his throat. “I thought you were comin’ later.”
“Me too, but I…,” you trail off, your brain struggling to catch up, “I didn’t know what else to do at my place.”
“It’s fine. Just– let me put on some clothes.”
“Please don’t,” Wade murmurs next to you, but Logan only scoffs. “I was just being honest. Communication is key.”
When Wade and you are alone again, he lets out a harsh breath. “That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. My pants are really tight right now.”
“Thin walls, buddy!” Logan shouts from his bedroom, earning a laugh from you.
Like A Prayer starts playing. Wade moves his hips to the beat, getting lost in the melody. “Is that your phone?”
“Yeah, but I always take a few seconds to dance to it. Such a banger!” he says, then picks up his phone, accepting the call. “Hey, Ness! What´s up?” Wade covers the speaker before telling you: “It’s Vanessa. My ex-girlfriend. We fuck once a week, sometimes even twice.”
From behind, Logan nudges your arm with his, looking at you. ”Hey, kid.”
“No, I’m not busy at all,” Wade exclaims, grabbing his crotch and thrusting into the air. “I’ll be there in ten, cupcake. See you,” he spreads his arms wide and whistles. “Someone’s getting laid tonight!”
“You made me come all the way here… and now you’re leaving?”
“What? My friend Wolverine wanted to invite you over. I just had to provide the apartment,” in one quick movement, he presses a kiss to your cheek, then does the same to Logan. “Shave yourself, will you?”
“Go fuck yourself, will you?”
“Love you too, honey. Hope you two lovebirds have a good night, because I know I will!”
Wade throws a wink over his shoulder before heading out, the apartment going dead silent. Logan and you stand frozen, staring at each other, although he quickly drops his gaze, unable to maintain eye contact. A giggle threatens to escape you: he wanted to see you. Could he possibly enjoy your company as much as you enjoy his?
Logan watches the spot where Wave had just been. The absence of his chaotic energy makes the room feel strangely empty now. He coughs lightly, the sound awkwardly loud in the quiet room.
“So... I, uh, bought pizza,” he says, his voice a little too casual, as if trying to cover up his nervousness. Averting his eyes, he focuses on the pizza boxes on the table.
You catch the hesitation in his tone, your curiosity piqued by his discomfort. Tilting your head, a teasing smile forms on your lips. “Pizza, huh? You sure know how to impress a girl.”
Logan chuckles, the sound strained, as he scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, I figured it was a safe choice. Didn’t want to ruin it, y’know?”
You move closer to the table, the warmth from the pizza boxes radiating against your hands as you open one of them. The rich smell of melted cheese and pepperoni fills the air, a comforting scent that makes your stomach growl softly. “Thank you. I’m a big fan of pizza.”
He sits in the chair across from you, taking a bite of his slice. You watch him quietly, your own thoughts churning. The truth of his origins had been a shock at first, but now, it just made you want to know more about the man. What was his life like in the other universe? Did he miss it? Was he happier here, or was he longing to return?
“Logan…,” you begin, your tone gentle but probing, “Can I ask you something?”
He glances up at you, eyes widening. There’s something in your eyes –an understanding, maybe– that makes him feel like you could see right through him.
“Sure,” he replies, trying to sound more at ease than he really feels. “Ask away.”
You hesitate for a moment, not wanting to push too hard. “I was wondering... would it be okay if I asked you some questions? About, you know, your life. Where you're from.”
The bite of pizza suddenly feels heavy in his mouth. He hadn’t talked much about his world, not even with Wade. Partly because it was too painful, and partly because he wasn’t sure how to explain how things turned out for him. He nods slowly, setting his slice down. “Yeah, it's okay. I’ll answer what I can.”
“I just... I want to understand you better.”
“Well, first and foremost, I’m no hero. You should know that by now.”
“I beg to differ.”
“Kid, I’m the worst Logan. A complete failure. Of all the variants out there, Wade just had to pick the one despised by every living soul on his earth,” Logan looks away, his voice low and heavy. You’re wondering if doing this was a good idea. “I need a drink.”
He gets up and you follow him into the kitchen. He rummages through the fridge, in search of a cold beer. Meanwhile, you attempt to find the right words. “I don’t think–”
With a sharp flick of his wrist, three metal claws sprout from between his knuckles. A gasp catches in your throat as he uses his claws to pierce the beer can, drinking from the punctured holes. Once he’s done, he goes back to staring at you. Your gaze, on the other hand, is still glued to the now-empty beer can. “What?” he asks, exhaling slowly.
“That was completely unnecessary,” you mutter, and he lets out a bitter chuckle, tossing the can into the trash. “But, back to what you said before– I don’t think you’re the worst Logan.”
“You didn’t know me back then, darlin’. I fucked it up,” he leans against the counter, arms crossed defensively over his chest. “Like the Logan from this universe, I once belonged to the X-Men too. I remember that Scott used to beg me to wear my suit. So did Jean, Storm, Beast– All of them,” his gaze grows more distant, and you can tell that memories are flooding his mind. “Wanted me to be part of the team, but I wouldn’t do it. Told them they looked fucking ridiculous.”
The pizza’s long forgotten. You take the risk and get a bit closer to him, your eyes never leaving his.
Logan’s silence stretches for a moment before he speaks again. “One day, while I was off on my own, the humans came. They went mutant hunting.”
Your heart clenches at the pain in his voice. He still remembers everything as if it had happened yesterday. “I can guess the rest. You don’t have to–”
But he cuts you off. “No, let me say it. I need to say it,” he takes a deep breath, lowering his head. “By the time I stumbled home, shit-faced from the bar, it was too late. They were dead. They called after me and I walked away.”
Reaching out, your hand gently brushes against his. He doesn’t pull away, but instead searches for your eyes. “My suit's all I've got to remind me of who they were. What I did. I found them and they were… dead. I started killing, and I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop. I turned the whole world against the X-Men.”
You tighten your grip on his hand, knowing there’s nothing you can do to change how he feels. “You’re not a bad person, Logan,” he shakes his head, mumbling something you can’t quite catch. “I mean it. What happened back then doesn’t define you. You took the blame for their deaths upon yourself. I can tell you loved them deeply, and I’ll never fully understand the pain you feel. I wish I could. I wish I could take it away, make you forget somehow, but I can’t. That’s not how life works. But you got your second chance: you saved this world. My world,” gently cupping his face in your hands, you allow your fingers to caress his cheeks. He leans into your touch, watching you with half-lidded eyes. “You’re my hero. I’m your biggest fan– after Wade, obviously, which is a lot to say.”
He grins, letting out a laugh. “Easy there, bub.”
“Should I give you some space?”
That’s the last thing he wants from you right now. You already know that as he looks you up and down, placing his hands on the small of your back, his thumbs drawing small circles on your skin. There’s no turning back– The warmth between you feels almost like a fever dream. “For a long time, all I wanted was to disappear. I couldn’t stand waking up every morning, knowing that another day awaited me.”
“And what happened?” your breath mingles with his, his closeness becoming nearly intoxicating. “What changed?”
“I met a pretty girl at a pub, that’s what happened,” he murmurs, his dilated pupils flicking up to meet your gaze. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”
“Do all your kisses come with a warning?”
“God, do you ever shut up?”
You don’t have time to respond because he kisses you there and then. His stubble scrapes your skin as your mouths meet again and again, needy hands that hold you as if you were prone to breaking. Logan licks into your mouth, sliding his tongue against yours and swallowing every one of your whimpers.
“So this is what it takes to shut you up, huh?” he murmurs against your lips. You can feel him smiling, and it makes your heart skip a beat.
“Keep talking and you won’t get a single bite of my tiramisu,” you tease him, kissing him again, the taste of beer numbing your senses. “I really like kissing you.”
“The feeling’s mutual, but now that you’ve mentioned that tiramisu…”
“Am I that easily replaced?”
“No. You’re just a pain in the ass.”
Jokes aside, you’re as happy as a clam.
Since that night you and Logan kissed, you’ve been living your best life. Like a freaking schoolgirl with a crush. Some things never seem to change.
He hasn’t been to the bar in three days. Yes, you’re counting them. No, you haven’t lost your mind. You want to see him, but there’s something about making the first move that gives you the chills. What would his reaction be if you showed outside of apartment?
It’s been a long time since you’ve been with anybody. On top of that, all the guys you’ve dated were your age. Being with someone that older than you certainly wasn’t no your plans. You’d be lying if you said that the mere idea of being with him in that way didn’t excite you.
Oh boy, you miss him. You miss his scruffy voice, his gorgeous hair. And you two aren’t even official yet. To be honest, you don’t even know what he wants from you. Is he even the type to be in a relationship?
“Nighty night, gentlemen,” you say to Gary and his friends as you find yourself in front of them, smoothing your apron. Gwen had called in sick tonight, so it’s just you at the bar babysitting a bunch of grown-men.
“What’s up, doll? You’ve forgotten about us. We miss you coming in here to chat,” Gary’s eating his burger at the same time he speaks, something you find repulsive, but you’ve seen worse. “Y’know, I’d love to take you out someday. I have a place you’d like.”
The other men laugh and punch him in the back, just boosting his ego. Pathetic.
“I’ll let you know when I’m free,” you reply with the most polite smile you can offer, intending to go on. “What are you having tonight?”
“You always pull that shit, baby. I don’t think you’re so busy that you can’t accept a date.”
You hate the way he’s looking at you, as if you were wrong for not being interested. As if you didn’t know any better.
“You’re reading minds now? Shocking, Gary.”
“Oh, doll. That attitude of yours shows you’ve never been with a real man like me, that’s all,” he leans back in his chair, resting one of his arms on the table and the other one near his crotch, manspreading. “It’s alright. I like you bratty.”
“I’ll be back when you finally have something to order,” you attempt to turn around but he grabs your wrist, pulling you closer. Your eyes lock, and he seems to enjoy this: being in control. Like a predator hunting his prey. “Come on, Gary. I don’t want to have to kick you out.”
“It’s not that you don't like me, right? You’ve already got your mouth full.”
“Careful.”
“What? Don’t tell me you’re not fucking that useless mutant. I see you like ‘em older. Pretty little things like you drive me wild.”
You laugh in his face, showing him your teeth. “It was never about your age, Gary. You’re right: I do like them older. I’m just not into bald, vertically-challenged pricks.”
His entourage of idiots goes silent after that. He looks up at you, eyes burning with hatred. His grip on your wrist tightens, probably leaving a mark. “Fucking bitch.”
“Get your hands off her.”
Logan’s voice forces the two of you to look in his direction. It seems that he’s just arrived at the pub, his jacket still on.
“You joining us? We’re just getting started here, big boy.”
“Did you not hear me?” Logan lunges forward, his nose almost touching Gary’s. “The fuck is wrong with you?”
“Easy there, cowboy. I’m just having a chat with your girl. She’s one of the good ones, I’ll give you that,” arching a sly brow, his forehead puckers. “You don’t like sharing? We can even take turns.”
Logan clenches his jaw, lips set in a grim line. “Say one more word, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
“I’ll give you a full sentence instead: can you even get it up?”
The tension in the air is thick, every second stretching out as Logan's anger simmers dangerously close to the surface. Gary’s smug grin only makes it worse, pushing him to the edge. Before you can react, Logan’s fist swings forward, connecting with Gary’s jaw with a sickening crack. Gary staggers back, realising your wrist. Blood seeps from his nose, his white shirt becoming stained with it. “You fucker! You broke my nose!”
“We’re just getting started here, big boy,” Logan mocks him, repeating his previous words.
“Stop!” you shout, moving quickly to grab his arm, trying to pull him back. But he’s beyond hearing, his rage blinding him to everything else. He shakes you off, and with a fierce growl, drives another punch into Gary’s stomach. The latter doubles over, gasping for air, the wind knocked out of him. He then falls to the floor, curling into a ball. People start to gather around you, and soon your beloved bar becomes a box ring.
“That’s enough, Logan! He’s barely conscious,” you murmur under your breath, stepping between them, hands up in a desperate attempt to create some space. Logan pauses, chest heaving, fists still clenched, as he finally looks at you. The wildness in his eyes starts to fade, replaced by a dawning realization of what he’s done.
“He deserved it,” he nods vigorously to himself, as if trying to explain his point. “He was hurting you.”
“If you keep that up, you’re going to kill him. My bar is not a fucking cemetery,” your voice trembles a little bit, expecting to talk some sense into him. “I won’t let you do this.”
The room is quiet now, the only sound being Logan’s heavy breathing as he stands there, still tense, still processing. You turn to Gary’s friends, cold fury in your eyes. “Get him out of here,” you watch as they haul him up, practically dragging him to the door. The other clients continue to stare at Logan, their mouths hanging open. “Everybody out, right now! Go home. We’re closing earlier tonight.”
Adam is the last person to leave, slamming the door behind him. You rush to the counter, searching for a mop to clean the fresh blood off the floor. Still agitated, the images of Logan hitting Gary flash in your mind. He approaches you from behind, his fingers circling your forearm. “Bub–”
“Don’t. Now is not the time.”
“I was protecting you.”
“I told you to stop, and you didn’t. You just shook me off,” you snap, glancing at his knuckles which are not even bruised. Slamming your eyes shut, you get to your feet and wash your hands in the sink, the remaining water becoming reddish for a moment.
Logan moves closer, resting his chin on your shoulder. He wraps his arms lazily around your middle section. ”I’m sorry.”
You turn in his arms, your back flushed against the sink and your nose in the air. “Why didn’t you call me?”
“I don’t have a phone.”
“But– Jesus, Logan. You could’ve come sooner. I thought you regretted what happened the other day,” you say and the muscles in his face twitch, his body stiffening at your words. “Thought you no longer wanted me.”
“No, bub. I– I still want you. I want all of you, trust me,” he murmurs, and you allow him to press his body against yours, the scent of the cigar he must have smoked recently enveloping your senses. “I just… don’t know how to do this. I have a habit of ruining things, and I’m trying to figure out the best way to be with you without hurting you.”
“Pushing me away also hurts,” your eyes flick up to meet his gaze again, and he whispers under his breath. “I can’t read your mind. You need to tell me what’s going on in that ancient skull of yours.”
His face falters, flashing you a mischievous look. His hand creeps under the fabric of your shirt, fingernails scrapping against your spine. “I’m sorry, princess. I truly am.”
“You can’t just say ‘sorry’ with that voice and expect me to–”
You’re cut off by his lips crashing down onto yours. You melt into the kiss, unable to deny what your body has been craving for the past days.
“I thought your kisses came with a warning,” you say, detaching your mouth from his, a smile spreading uncontrollably in your face as you see his toothy grin.
“Shut up and kiss me, will you?”
In a clash of tongues and teeth, your mouths meet once again. Tugging the hair at his nape, you feel him growl against your lips. His strong hands trace every curve of your body, kneading the flesh of your hips and undoing the knot at the back of your apron. You’re becoming one with the sink, but in a moment like this, you couldn’t care less. Logan’s hard on nudges your lower stomach, and he ruts against you like an animal.
“You said you wanted to know what’s on my mind, right?” his teeth nibble on the skin of your neck, syrupy voice going straight to your core. “Well, I’d love nothing more than to touch you right now.”
“Right here? On the counter?”
“Yeah, on the fucking counter,” he grabs you by your thighs, hosting you up and placing your body on top of the cold bar. He nudges your knees apart, his bulge meeting your clothed cunt deliciously. “Will you let me, baby? Can I make you come in here?”
“Please. I’m glad we have such a low budget. Camera installment is t–too expensive these days.”
“Do you always talk this much?” he slowly unbuttons your pants, and you help him to remove them.
“Yes. Next question,” your breath hitches in your throat as you feel the pad of his thumb circling your clit through your panties. Your eyelids drop, your head lolling back. “Fuck, that feels good.”
Logan hums, mesmerized with the way your hips roll into his hand, your whimpers sounding like music to his ears. “You have any idea how I felt when I saw him touching you? Wanted to rip his hands off you,” his eyes drift to your chest, how it rises and falls with impatience. “But it’s me who gets to have you like this. He can fantasize about you all he wants: I’m the only one who touches you, ain’t I right?” you sigh with content as his fingers graze your slit, aimlessly bucking your hips. He doesn’t go any further, and you tug at the collar of his flannel, needing more of his callousand hands on you. “Nuh-uh. You want something, you gotta use your words. Got it?”
“I w–want your fingers inside me,” you don’t even recognize your own voice at this point. The few guys you had slept with had never been very talkative during sex. But Logan isn’t like them. This is just the beginning and you’re already starting to realize that he has a dirty mouth, that expectant look on his face as he waits to see your reaction to his words. “Please, Logan. I want you so bad.”
“Oh, I know, bub. There’s something about me I don’t think you know,” he inserts one of his fingers in your cunt, your slick coating the palm of his hand. “These claws I have… they didn’t come on their own. Let’s just say my sense of smell is… pretty good,” Logan can almost see the gears turning in your head as you try to think coherently. He moves his middle finger in and out of you, stretching your walls. “And you… have been wet ever since the first time you saw me. Always nice to everybody, making sure they feel at ease,” you feel like you’re being stretched even further, another one of his fingers sinking into your warm pussy. “But you’re so needy, too. How long has it been since someone touched you like this?”
“Too long, f–fuck. Too long,” you’re squirming, a totally whiny mess. He retratcs his wet fingers and instead goes back to flicking your clit, this time with much less delicacy. His left hand squeezes your tits, and you hate the fact that you’re still wearing clothes. “Shit, Logan. I need you to fuck me. Please. Need your cock.”
His face comes to rest at your neck, and you feel lingering kisses and bites that keep you grounded to earth. “Not here. I need a bed to fuck you properly. You’re only getting my fingers now,” he positions them inches away from your entrance, testing your patience. “Tell me who owns this pussy.”
“L-logan–”
“Tell me and I’ll make you come,” his husky voice is making you dizzy, tears shimmering in your eyes. “Come on. Know you want it as much as I do.”
You succumb to the tentation, like divinity turned to sin. He kisses you roughly, and you struggle to find the correct words. “It’s you, Logan. You own my pussy. It’s f-fucking yours.”
With that, he goes back to nudging that spot that makes you see starts, that filthy squelching sound getting mixed up with your moans. The knot in your belly keeps growing tighter the more he pumps his fingers in and out of you.
“I said you were only getting my fingers for now, but fuck… I need to gest a taste of this sweet cunt.”
He’s on his knees in an instant, urging your legs apart to make room for his body. Your thighs tighten around his face as he licks a hot stripe up your folds, tracing a heated path on your cunt, not wishing to waste a single second. Pleasure builds quickly, your breath hitching as your hands find their way into his hair, pulling him closer when your body begins to tremble.
“I’m close,” you pant, breathing hard, grinding your hips against his face. “I’m so close.”
“That’s it. Come in my mouth like the good girl you are.”
Who had given him a damn script for this?
The release is explosive. Like the peak of a roller coaster: you go up up up, ascending higher. You think you almost see Jesus, but at some point, you also have to crash down with force. Your shoulders slump, your entire body cramping up; yet he doesn’t let you go that easily, his fingers still working, scissoring within you while you ride out the final waves of your high, drawing out every last moment of ecstasy.
Once you finally manage to open your eyes, there he is, staring down at you. He taps your lower lip with his fingers, and then mutters: “Open.”
And you do, because you’re just as messed up as he is. Your mouth parts, and he slides his fingers between your lips, dragging them smoothly across your tongue. His knuckles brush the back of your throat, and you gag around the intrusion, tasting yourself. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, clearly satisfied with the way you’ve cleaned them off.
“I think we should really pay a visit to your apartment,” he suggests, groaning in defeat, and you feel his bulge poking your hip. He must be painfully hard. “I meant what I said earlier. I need a bed if we’re going to fuck. My back’s hurting.”
You raise an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curving into a smirk. “Why not go to yours?”
“Wade’s in there. I wouldn’t be able to concentrate.”
You can’t help but laugh, pausing a moment to collect your thoughts, heat rising to your cheeks. “So we’re going rodeo?”
Aiming to silence up, Logan kisses you, pinching your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Only if you can handle it.”
part 2: “GIVE ME THE FIRST TASTE”
dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)
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Gen z, I need yall to make Billie Ellish and Olivia Rodrigo your new white pop girlies and get them bigger than these millennials who need to retire.
Yes I’m being ageist against my fellow millennials. Anyone with a career spanning over a decade who is 35 or older needs to retire at this point. Hang it up. Be mentors for the younger kids to keep them good but it’s time for these geriatrics fucking quit thank you.
#apparently t swift is hating on the gen z girlies and it’s giving old hag refusing to let the next generation shine#and I think gen z is unhinged with their ageism as if the oldest among them aren’t less than five years away from turning 30 themselves#but that doesn’t mean millennials doing what older generations did to us and not retire#then wants to complain how the youth aren’t shining like them#they can’t shine because yall and all the wealth and power yall accumulated over the years keep blocking them!#Beyoncé with the Bailey sisters#tswift with Billie and Olivia#drake with name a young rapper he collabed with who you never hear from anymore#because Drake got em locked in the ovhoe basement#like yall old heads now and it’s time to move aside so the new generation can do their thing#damn#gatekeep but don’t block wtf#why are their egos like this and why does no one but me seem to care?#and it’s insane that my 30+ year old ass can still hear artists I listened to in hs still topping the charts#I’ve had enough#yall gen z been listening to this shit for more of your life span#not for nothing but I should be completely tuned out of music rn as a millennial#but I still pay attention because a lot of artists I listened to are still active!
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6 Ways To Build Wealth in Less Than Five Years
0:00 Introduction 0:21 Invest and Invest Some More. 0:48 Always Negotiate a Better Salary. 1:44 Manage Your Debt. 2:16 Keep Your Expenses Low. 2:58 Stick With Your Budget. 3:29 Take On a Side Business. 4:40 Summary and Conclusion.
In this video, we will explore six powerful strategies to help you build wealth in less than five years. Whether you're saving for a big purchase, looking to retire early, or simply want to achieve financial freedom, these tips will set you on the path to success. From investing in stocks and real estate to starting a side hustle and cutting expenses, we will cover all the key steps you need to take to reach your financial goals by 2024. Don't wait any longer to take control of your finances and start building the wealth you deserve. Watch now and get ready to make your dreams a reality! #buildwealth #financialfreedom #investing #personalfinance
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I'm gonna be so open and honest with you guys right now i fucking rly dont want to go to work tomorrow .
#im violently nauseous rn and ik its judt bc ive been in a straining position and also i ate like 20 slimjins but like km only gonna get 5#hours of sleep maximum im gonna have a headache im so tired of everything i wanna have a day off but i cant. Its only tuesday and im#already liek Please can we be done please no more this week all done all done#im so fucking sick of working i dont want to have to work for the next 40 years Minimum. i hate everythingbon earth#i dont understand how ppl work fulltime and have a life i only get 2 live At all on weekends#and even then its only 1 day saturday bc sunday is my Doing all my chores and stuff day#so i do all my laundry i tidy up the room Et cetera. i dont udnerstand how people can just do this forever#it genuinely feels like. bc i leave 4 work at 6am. i get home around 5pm. im supposed to go to bed. well technically i should go 2 bed at#9 to get a full 9 hours but look man . that would give me 4 hours a day to be a person#so my bedtime is officially 10 but usually i go to bed at 12 which means i dont get enough sleep which means as soon as i getnoff work the#next day im even less willing to do anything#+ doing anything fun fucking costs money if not the thing itself the travel expenses. and if i spend money i just have to work to make that#money back i fucking hate it. and im doing this for what. so that in 40 years i can retire and then 10 years after that oh no unforeseen#expenses or something suddenly my retirement isnt cutting it i have to go work at fucking walmart or something as a 70 year old judt to#make ends meet. god. And when the fuck am i supposed to have kids i want kids very badly one day but how the fuck am i supposed to have#kids if id only be able to spend Maximum 6 hours a day with them. thats if my work is like Doectly next door.#how. how. how. less than 6 hours even bc theyd go to bed before i did so rly like 3 hours a day with my theoretical kids Im an awful#theoretical parent and maybe my theoretical spouse works less hours so they can be home with the kids but they resent me for always being#at fucking work 9 hours a fucking day and they resent me for not being there for our theoretical kids Im sorry theoretical partner i want#to fucking be there but SOMEBODY has to put money into our theoretical savings account. UGH!!!#i hate work i hate it i hate it#i dont even hate my job i just hate that its my entire fucking life#i hate that i essentially get half a day every week thats truly mine that i get to do whatever i want. and in my current situation i barely#even fucking get that idk.
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