#i know this is from a couple months ago but i was going through my saved clips and idr anyone uploading this

[seat-safety-switch]

Have you ever thought about how weird it is that you can buy pineapples at the grocery store? Someone pulled this shit off a tree tens of thousands of kilometers away, and then sent it to me. If I don't buy it, they'll just throw it in the trash.

Global trade is a really remarkable invention of our species. My neighbour's Hyundai was born in South Korea, shipped here on a boat, and will never see its mother or most of its siblings again. Even so, it was only slightly more expensive than a locally-made Ford. Sorry, did I say "locally-made?" That was also made in a different country and shipped here under duress. We don't even notice such a miracle unless we check the registration.

My Volare was sent here from The America, a country which has been going through some rough times lately. I figured that maybe it would want to go back and see Missouri, its land of creation, at least once. That Hyundai would never get the opportunity: who would bundle an Elantra into a steamer ship? Driving there, though, was basically feasible. Well, feasible for anyone who wasn't operating a badly-maintained, 47-year-old example of one of Mopar's shittiest cars.

You guessed it: I broke down at the end of my block. There is good news, though. A couple months ago, I found a bicycle clogging the sewage drain near my office, and I was able to bang it mostly straight with a hammer. Ever since then, I've been throwing it in the trunk, and using it to ride home whenever one of my cars leave me stranded. It's been great for my cardio, but more importantly, it was built here. Plans changed. Volare out, whatever this bicycle is "in." I rode it to the bike shop that assembled it, stopping periodically to ingest fried food, craft beer, and ice cream so as not to unnecessarily improve my health from over-exercise.

Unfortunately for everyone, when I got to the bike store, the snooty repair-shop crew considered my quest incomplete. They didn't make the bikes there, just threw them together. The frame and wheels had come from China, they explained, a big integrated factory that punches out the parts, spitting out thousands of proto-bikes per second without any form of human involvement. You'd have to get on a plane and take it to go visit the mothership in Guangdong.

Confronted with the choice to either abandon my quest or willingly board a Boeing product, I decided to take the safer route and return home. Perhaps it was foolish to try and figure out the maternal bonds of soulless, inanimate methods of transportation. Or perhaps I just picked the wrong kind of product, I decided, picking up an apple at the grocery store on my way home. Surely, this thing came from here, I thought right before I read the label.

As soon as I figure out where "Northern Spy" is, you'll be the first to know.

[highonakuweeds]

Who Says Money Can't Buy Happiness? (Part 5)

Sylus x right hand man!reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ao3

Summary: You had a nightmare. Normally, that wouldn't phase you, but this memory was different, leading to your weakness.

The air around her felt sticky and cold. Not like she wasn’t used to it, anyway; it’s been like this for the past…

…How long has it been? Weeks? Months? Years?

Her sense of time mixed itself up the moment she lost her consciousness when she was walking down the streets of Linkon City, going back to the apartment she stole from a lady a long time ago. (Name) stole her credit card, too, but she cut that off a while back as well. 

There were an abundance of people that walked into her cell, but none of them talked to her. The one thing all of them did was grab her right wrist, swollen and limp from the countless amount of surgeries to place something sharp inside of it and monitor it constantly. It was always so close to her blood vessels, and every time she would think about it, it would make her lose consciousness.

This was the… 10th time that had happened? There was no sun from where she was, so she couldn’t exactly pinpoint what time it was. But from how her body strained less than before, she knew that it was shorter this time.

There was water that dripped a couple of feet away from her, mimicking the seconds ticked by. Sometimes, she would find herself counting until she reached how many days there are in a year. 365 seconds… that’s only 6.083 minutes, and that is only around 0.101 hours…

Wait, how’d she know that?

She noticed that she began to understand and know things way too obscure for her to know without any prior education. She could answer the most complicated Math questions she could think of, and she hadn’t even started college. Well, reason being she couldn’t afford it.

Yet even with that, she didn’t know the time.

She opened her eyes with a jolt of her tired body, her wrists encapsulated in something that numbed them. She could still move her fingers, but it was only slight. She groggily glanced up at the hooded figure that opened up her cell’s door; were they going to drag her to the operating room again?

Her body shivered when he spoke, shocked that there was someone else speaking other than her in this cell. “I’m going to get you out of here,” he declared, fingers nimbly working against the chains gripping her ankles that kept her in the cell. She tilted her head in confusion, opening her mouth to speak. “Why?” It was rough. Well, it had been a couple hours (days?) since she last spoke.

Even through the hood, she could feel his eyes on her as he continued to work against the chains, finally snapping them loose. They came down from her ankles with a clank, and she gasped at the feeling of circulation in her feet. “If I can’t save myself from this torture,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “Then I can at least save you.”

He began working on the things around her wrists, grimacing when he saw just how butchered her right one was. “Were you dominant in this hand?” He asked her, and she nodded, laughing weakly. “I don’t think I can write with it anymore after this.” When he was finally able to remove the binding material from her wrists, he softly gripped her forearms to hoist her up, steadying her when she staggered. “Will I be able to recover?”

He pursed his lips before smiling reassuringly. “If you take care of yourself. Now, close your eyes.”

“What?”

“It’s for the better if you don’t know who I am, and I’m going to remove my coat. Now, close your eyes.”

She hesitantly did what he told her to do, and she suddenly felt something drape around her shoulders, a hood covering her eyes. When she opened them, she could barely see her surroundings, and when she threw her head back to remove the hood, it was immediately placed back on her head, the boy—seemingly around 20, around her age—now behind her to conceal his identity. “Look, I know that you’re weak right now, but I want you to run. Run as far as you can without looking back.”

“But what about you—”

“I can’t save myself here.” He emphasized once more, saying it even more slowly. “My future lies here. But you? I know that you have so much potential out there, not cooped up here, ready to be experimented on. Now, go. I’ll distract all of the people in the lab.”

She didn’t question him when he said that, and the moment the both of them bolted out of the door, an alarm broke out. The mysterious guy gently yet urgently pushed her towards a hidden hallway as the guards began to flood the main one, all running in a panic.

There was a door there that looked so much like an exit, and (Name)’s face lit up when he told her that it was actually the exit.

And with that, she ran. You ran as fast as you could with your aching and still numbed feet, stumbling when you hit a small rock, but never falling. 

You won’t fall again after this.

—--

You opened the door to an abandoned building, glancing at the clock that was still somehow working. That probably means that this place was freshly abandoned. Was it 5 am or 5 pm? Either way, the red moon shone through the windows of the shop, confusing you. Were you still even in Linkon City?

You snooped around for any kind of weapon you could find, smiling happily when you found a small pistol. It was a luxury to find such a gun as sleek and high-quality as it, and it felt right in your left hand. 

“And just what do you think you’re doing with my gun?” A deep, rich voice vibrated within you, cutting the silence that you knew all too well. It was an instinct, really, something you’d picked up from roaming around the streets for too long. You stood up, twisting your body to aim the gun at the man. The only thing you saw when you pulled the trigger was his white hair and his red eyes, and a grin that made you want to wipe it off with a bullet.

And so you did.

The bang from your memories woke you up, mixing with the sound of your alarm as cold sweat coated your entire face. Your heart was racing way too much for comfort, and as you glanced at your right wrist, the red glow flickering so quickly that if you stared at it too long, you probably would’ve had a seizure.

You quickly removed it from your sight as you stood up from your bed, going towards your bathroom to look for any bandages that could at least soften the harshness of the flickering of the light. It didn’t take long for you to bandage it properly, the light dimming.

You hadn’t dreamt about that memory in so long; why did you dream about it now?

Because of it, you felt weak. Gripping your sink, you stared at your face and the newfound eye bags under your eyes. With a small grumble, you tied your hair to wash your face and get ready for the day.

The moment you took another step, you staggered, your brain remembering what it was like to be chained. It was how many years ago, and yet it couldn’t seem to let the sensation go. You gritted your teeth at it, forcing yourself to walk towards the kitchen to get some nutrients in your body. With how you woke up, you definitely needed some.

—--

When you entered the kitchen, wafts of the fragrance of bacon entered your nostrils, but instead of making you sigh in pleasure, it only made you grumble in distaste. You had forced yourself to eat the breakfast that the chef made; he took his time to make it, after all.

You asked where your boss was, and—to your expectation—the chef had replied that he didn’t know. Which usually meant one thing: he was probably dealing with some rat that tried to fool him.

And right on time, you heard your phone ping—a sound familiar to you because it’s only reserved for your boss.

With a sigh, you stood up from your spot, nodded at the chef in gratitude and left. You made sure to grab your hood, and as you walked the long hallway to the grand dining room that Sylus had, you fumbled with the strings of the hood; you never fumbled.

=What was going on?

You quietly opened the door to find a man trying to talk to Sylus about business, and him acting incredibly uninterested. You nodded your head at your boss, who then indicated to you to stay by his right side. Of course, you came to his side as quickly as you could, crossing your arms.

“They plan to implant Protocores into human hearts. Then they’ll insert the human consciousness into Wanderers,” the man had explained. Your wrist beeped quietly when it recognized the information—as false as it is—but it heated up quickly, making you stagger. The man hadn’t noticed it, but your boss surely did. He glanced at you with a brow raised in question. “This little project of theirs has a name: The Fountain of Atei—”

You placed a hand in front of you as Sylus spoke, indicating the man to stop talking. “You should know I’m not interested in other people’s businesses.” Your boss turned his head so that he’d be looking at you, and you pursed your lips. You could feel yourself getting a bit lightheaded, so your hand instinctively gripped Sylus’ bicep, nails digging into his skin.

If that action surprised Sylus, you didn’t see, but he knew what the purse of your lips meant. “And you’re lying. You’re not even telling me everything. It’s a shame you threw away your last chance.”

Red wisps of Sylus’ evol wrapped around the man’s neck, pulling him down to his knees. Your boss nodded your head at you, and you leaned down, gripping the man’s chin. You gave him a pitiful smile before removing a small dagger from your hood, opening the man’s mouth, and cutting his tongue off. 

A scream erupted from him, reverberating within the entire dining hall. You gave the now detached tongue in your hand a squeeze before grimacing at the look of it. No matter how many times you’d do this, you would never get used to it. 

Red tendrils wrapped around the tongue before making it disappear with its owner, and you wiped the saliva off your hands onto the ends of your hood. “Disgusting everytime.”

You took your hood off, and the moment more light gleamed within your eyesight, you squeezed your eyes shut, letting out a ragged breath. Fuck, you still haven’t recovered.

Sylus’ brows furrowed when he saw you take that breath. First was when you staggered, then when you gripped his arm, and now this? Just as he was about to ask you what was wrong, someone else opened the door, making you immediately put the hood back on and disappear in the shadows.

Ah, he totally forgot about MC.

When she entered the room, you sighed softly, walking towards the door and leaving. However, before you could even reach the door, you felt yourself palpitate, making you gasp sharply and freeze in your tracks. MC’s attention immediately went to you as a rather concerned look on her face appeared. In all honesty, it even surprised herself. “Nyx, are you okay?”

‘Nyx’? Sylus had to stifle a smirk at the name you had chosen to conceal your identity from your colleague. But the worry that was subtly etched in his features never left

You placed a hand in between you and MC before nodding. And as quickly and quietly as you entered, you left, leaving the two of them in the room.

—--

“Good morning, (Name)! How are you—my God, you look like shit. What happened?” Tara rushed to your side, an arm around your waist to support you. You begrudgingly smiled, grateful that the hunter’s uniform requires you to wear long sleeves, hence covering up your glowing wrist. Nevertheless, you still had the bandages wrapped around it. 

You shook your head as you sat down on your desk, placing your elbow on the table to rest your cheek on my palm. “I honestly have no idea. Hey, Tara?”

“Yeah?”

“What would you do if you accidentally fell in love with your boss?”

Your friend blinked at you, eyes blown wide as she attempted to connect the dots. “You like Jenna!? Damn, I didn’t know you swung that way. Wait, no but honestly, I can see it—”

“This,” you took a deep sigh, stifling your laugh. “Is not about me, okay? Just someone I met when I was on a date with Aries.”

Tara’s face scrunched as it took her a while to recognize who Aries was before humming. “...Okay, uhm. Without any context, if I fell in love with my boss, I’d have confessed.”

You furrowed your brows, looking around. “What? That easily? But—but what if he seems to be interested in someone else? Someone he all of a sudden became obsessed with? Your, uhm, colleague, for example. Then again, it was like he was incredibly interested in you for the longest time. And, hey, what if you lose your job? Sure, you may be valuable to your boss, but you can’t risk anything, right?”

Tara sighed, leaning against your desk before speaking. “Well, I would still confess. If I were to constantly see my own boss, I wouldn’t have been able to keep it in for long, anyway. So, might as well just get it off my chest, ya know?” She faced you, a knowing look on her face, as if she knew you were lying about it being a ‘friend’ despite not knowing who this ‘boss’ really was. “So, you go and tell your friend to spill her heart out. And you said that he was interested in her, right?”

You passed air through your lips, wondering if you should even consider Tara’s advice. “Might be interested. Not interested interested.”

Your friend just laughed at that. “I’m calling B.S. But, for the benefit of the doubt, what makes yo—her think that he only might be interested?”

You didn’t catch her small slip-up as you sighed. “Well, before he started getting obsessed with her colleague, he’d put on her heels for her, take her out to fancy restaurants sometimes, give her bouquets of flowers—”

“Pause.” Tara stared at you in surprise, a hand beside her head as if indicating you to stop talking. “He sounds like a husband. Are you sure those two aren’t actually a thing?”

Groaning, you held your head, beginning to feel the energy drain out of you. “No, they aren’t a thing. I… uh, asked her. Multiple times.”

Tara nodded slowly before speaking reluctantly. “Well, he seems very interested in her. Especially with the heels thing. That’s not something a normal man would do for a woman. Well, wait, I’m getting off topic,” she waved the air like she was swatting away the other thoughts. “He definitely likes her. Well, not just like, but he’s probably in love with her. Maybe it just seems like he’s obsessed with your friend’s colleague because… I don’t know, he needs something from her which requires a bit more attention than usual.”

You pouted, gaze drifting away from your friend. “I guess…”

“Tell your friend that she’s overthinking, and that her boss is definitely in love with her.” Tara scoffed playfully, leaning forward so that the both of you were eye-to-eye. “And that she’s got this, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Now, I have to finish off my weekly report; I’ve been putting it off the entirety of the weekend.”

Tara grinned, straightening up to go to her desk. “Alright, then!”

Once your friend was out of sight, you took a deep breath, recollecting your thoughts and putting yourself in hunter work mode. Though, just as you were about to touch your keyboard to type something, an energy pull caused you to reel forward towards it, making you gasp sharply. Your mind flashed with a multitude of conversations and memories of a factory, and you were quick to realize that it was memories of when and how the keyboard was made. You furrowed your brows at the sudden headache, feeling your heart pounding erratically. 

The pulses on not just your right wrist, but your left one, too, felt too strong for comfort. Lightheadedness, cold sweat, unregulated breathing—seriously, what was going on?

You couldn’t do any work that day, and told Jenna that you weren’t feeling well. You kept your hands inside of your pockets, though a picture of the person who made your uniform flashed through your brain every now and then. 

This didn’t feel like anything you’ve experienced before; you needed to go to the hospital pronto. There was a certain doctor that you’d overheard many of your hunter friends swoon over every time doctors were needed on the field. And with how much your heart was palpitating, he might be a good person to talk to about this.

—--

“Alright, then, let’s start with the basics.” Dr. Li’s cool voice filled the silent room, and you nodded. You tapped your knees awkwardly; it’s been a while since you’ve been in a doctor’s office. Usually, you had one of Sylus’ personal doctors do your annual check-ups, but you didn’t want him to know about this.

“Any history of heart problems?”

“None that I know of.”

“When did this start?”

“When I woke up this morning after a nightmare.”

“Has this been occurring frequently?”

“No, only today.”

“Do you drink a lot of coffee or indulge in a lot of caffeine? Are you susceptible to stress? Do you exercise often?”

“When needed, most of the time, and since I’m a hunter, yes.”

“What other symptoms have you been feeling other than heart palpitations?”

“Shortness of breath, sudden fatigue, lightheadedness… Does heartache count?”

“In the figurative sense, no.”

“Awh, damnit.”

Dr. Li scribbled the last of your responses before standing up, placing his stethoscope in his ears. “I’ll be checking your pulse now.”

You nodded, straightening up. “Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Dr Li.”

He just let out a soft huff of air that you assumed to be as a laugh(?) before he spoke. “Dr. Zayne is fine, don’t worry. Now, take deep breaths.” And as you did so, he placed the end of the stethoscope towards your chest, his brows knitting together ever so slightly. It was subtle, but you learned to always look for even the most subtle of movements.

“I don’t mean to alarm you, but your heart rate is incredibly quick, approximately 125. Is this your resting heart rate?” Dr. Zayne’s voice snapped you out of your heightened guard, and you replied to him with a nod. “At least for today, it is. Usually, it’s at 70 beats per minute, but now, it’s definitely more than that. It was at 138 just an hour or two ago; it’s been making me lightheaded the entire day.”

“You track your BPM regularly.” It wasn’t a question, but more of a statement that Dr. Zayne used to confirm. You pressed your lips into a thin line as a smile, and he smiled fondly, his mind seemingly drifting somewhere else. He removed the stethoscope from your chest and his ears, slinging it around his neck. Walking towards the water dispenser, he grabbed a cup and filled it, giving it to you afterward. You accepted it gracefully as he spoke. “A certain someone could learn from that. She’s your colleague, I believe.” He caught himself, and shook his head. “Excuse me, I was a bit unprofessional there.”

That piqued your interest, however, and you downed it all in one go as he went back behind his desk to write down what you needed to do. “No, it’s alright. Uh, are you talking about MC?”

Dr. Zayne’s eyes lit up the moment her name was mentioned, and for a second, he just stared at the pad of paper, a small smile on his face. Your eyes widened at the revelation, and your mind was suddenly brimming with thoughts. 

“I was, actually. Do you know her? Well, of course you do, she’s your colleague. How is she? I haven’t heard from her in a while. She said she was going to be out of town for a couple of weeks, but she also promised to update me.”

Wow, he talks a lot when it comes to MC. You scrunched your nose, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I haven’t heard from her, either.” Liar. “Are you two… dating?”

Dr. Zayne’s ears visibly reddened at your question, and he just averted eye contact, jaw tightening before he spoke. “No, we aren’t. As her primary physician, I’m just concerned for her. Now, here is what you need to be doing and regulating if ever symptoms persist. And if they ever escalate, visit me immediately.”

You accepted the piece of paper Dr. Zayne held up politely, nodding your head. “Alright, thank you so much. And by the way,” Dr. Zayne raised his brows as a confirmation that he was listening to you. “I’m positive MC is doing just fine. Just wait for her call.”

This time, it wasn’t just his ears that blushed, but his entire face until his neck. He cleared his throat and nodded tightly. “Thank you, (Name). Come back next week for a follow-up.”

And with that, you were on your way. It was still early in the day, though, and you didn’t want to go to the N109 Zone so early. So, you opted to stay at a quaint cafe near the hospital. You could feel yourself getting calmer by the second, as if that conversation with your doctor along with his obvious crush on your colleague had calmed your nerves down. 

You glanced at the paper, pouting when you realized he told you to relax on the caffeine, if able to cut it all together. 

Fine. Decaf it is, then.

@readerxyourbabe :33

[eponymous-rose]

Monday!

It's been a while since I've done one of these week-in-the-life posts (and I LOVE reading them from others), and it's a particularly stressful week where I'm trying to stay off social media for Reasons, so hey, let's do this again!

It's a busy day, but it starts relatively late - I don't have to leave for the office until 10AM. So, you may ask, why on earth do I set my alarm for 8:30? Is it because I have an elaborate morning routine? Is it so I can hit the gym and go for a jog? No, no, no, it's because I have a little cat who takes the alarm as her cue to cuddle and I don't want to disappoint her, so I inevitably spend half an hour hugging her like a purring teddy bear first thing in the morning before I get up.

I respond to some e-mails as I get ready and on the bus ride over - mostly prep for our department's holiday party (I'm in the band and we're trying to get as much practice in as possible), but also a little work getting supercomputer access restored for an undergrad research assistant, offering to write a letter of recommendation so my colleague doesn't have to (we both know the student well and said colleague is traveling across the country for a funeral on a redeye flight tonight...), reworking some elements of the rubric for the faculty search committee I'm on, and confirming a meeting with my grad student.

10:45 - I get to the office and go to make my usual mug of tea... and realize in the moment I close my office door that the keys are still inside. I get the hot water from the lounge and meander by the office, but nobody's there. Just as I'm about to work up the nerve to go interrupt a more senior professor's meeting to borrow his keys, one of the office staff walks by and is happy to open the door for me, phew.

11:00 - My most senior grad student is doing an internship in Colorado this quarter (it's the location he most wants to do a postdoc at as well!), and we've set up a call to catch up after a few weeks without chatting. It's a bit of an awkward chat because he wants to go to his second conference in two months, and I had to bring out the "well, um, this is a side project you're doing with someone else's research group and you may want to check with them about where the $2000+ for conference costs is coming from". I possibly have an avenue - I might ask him to just attend for a couple of days instead of the whole time, so I can use some funding from a different grant, but I'm hoping we can get some cost-sharing going here, or possibly the other professor he's working with can present his poster for him if need be. Still, his work's going great and I'm hoping we can get him to this conference! He finishes his PhD this year, and I can attest to how helpful conferences are for landing postdocs.

12:00 - Speaking of grants, I had a successful grant come through late last summer to study wildfire smoke dynamics with novel instrumentation (something new to me!), and the whole team is meeting up for the first time to talk logistics! I also have to teach real soon, so I'm only on for the first chunk of the call, but we get some of the plan set up. Looks like we'll be meeting at a NASA facility early next year to do some siting stuff prior to the first controlled burn. I genuinely have no idea what I'm doing on this project, apart from being willing to write a big chunk of the proposal, but it's a good time!

12:30 - Class time! This is my domain-specific intro-to-python class that I developed 5 years ago and have been iterating on ever since. It's going a lot smoother this week than last, and the students are pretty responsive to my jokes (priority #1, lbr) and seem to be following along quite well, judging by the handful of questions I get after class. Not a ton of technical issues today, either, which is a HUGE win over last week.

1:30 - Forecasting time! I'm once again part of our university team in a giant forecasting contest. While I'm decidedly average at it (usually around 250th out of 1000 participants), my grad student was #1 for a while there. We chat in broad terms about the next week of weather in our targeted forecasting region.

2:30 - Meeting with another graduate student! We talk about some of the researchers he reached out to after his first conference a couple weeks ago, and we're starting to narrow down a possible author list for his first paper. He's working on writing up the methods and data for that paper while he incorporates a few new datasets into his preestablished workflow. He's been doing really well! Being a dual-major in CS means his code is a heckuva lot more organized than most second-year grad students I've had.

3:30 - ...nothing??? I've decided to skip my usual seminar and postpone one undergraduate student research meeting this afternoon (the one currently locked out of the supercomputer he needs for his project) since I have a couple of grant proposals due very shortly. I head out to grab some teriyaki to bring back to my office for lunch/dinner, but the restaurant just has a big sign out front saying "closed for FIRE" so I opt to go across the street for some chicken katsu and boba tea instead. I approve the final budget (coming up on a million dollars, no pressure) and keep plugging away at the statement of work (which is basically "what are you going to do, in detail, with one million dollars over the next three years? please tell us in exactly 15 pages, not counting your 3-page bibliography and 6 appendices"). I even find a perfect paper to reference to discuss one of our theories! We've made it through one round of reviews with our pre-proposal, and man, we'd love to do this project - it would be myself, a colleague, and a postdoc looking at some really novel stuff in severe storm predictability over the next three years. I also get a little work done on the invited talk I'm giving to a student journal club tomorrow, and work on some more e-mails (trying to set up a meeting with a friend's graduate student to help her out with some methods she's using from an older paper of mine).

5:15 - One of my colleagues has retired this year and has a farewell song he wants to sing at our holiday party, which happens to be mostly voice & piano, so we agree to meet up before the main practice and go over it a couple times before the rest of the band shows up and he has to head out to dinner. I'm really sorry to see him leaving (although I know he's delighted to get to spend more time with his kids and grandkids) - he and his wife were extremely welcoming when I started here, and were so kind and supportive when Mom died. Just very touched that he reached out to me to play piano on this one. Tragically, though, whoever was supposed to bring in the keyboard hasn't left it in the practice room, so we'll have to wait and run through it with the rest of the band on Thursday. Instead, it's back to the office to get caught up on e-mail and try to slog through more of the grant application (all today's research and work has netted me... 1 page of writing, blah).

6:00 - The rest of the band shows up! We run three songs of our eight-song setlist, and I'm somehow now playing on 4/8 of them, despite there being five people signed up for keys. It's a good time, though!

8:00 - I make it home and give Clara a bunch of new toys that have arrived with her prescription food (one of which she licks for 15 minutes straight). Luckily, tomorrow's work schedule is much more chill!

[pepsiv4l]

-Her Favorite-

Summary-You and Chris have been best friends since kids,until a couple months ago ,during fall time you started developing feelings for him.And so has he ,Every time you hear “a fall song” you think of him. One day u decided to confess your feelings to him while hanging out at your spot.

You-pink Chris-orange

“We fell in love in October, That’s why I love fall”

You and Chris are best friends, you guys spent most of your life together. That is until last year,Fall you started developing feelings for him.One day you were laying in bed scrolling on your phone until you get a text from Chris,him asking if you wanted to hang out

You let out a soft giggle as you text back Chris, blush covering your cheeks, you check the time [5:30] ,You get out of bed deciding to get ready to head out. You go into your closet putting on a tank top,and a pair of grey,baggy sweatpants with a hoodie and your fav pair of shoes, you walk out ur room ,grabbing your keys and drive to a spot you and Chris always go to when y’all wanna be alone or just be together.

-When you get there-

You sit at a nearby bench waiting for Chris to arrive, you pull out your phone to check what time it was [6:10] you look up and see Chris walking towards you ,You try hiding the blush forming on your cheeks a smile growing on ur face. “Hey goof I missed ya” he says a smile on his face as he sits beside you wrapping his arm around your shoulder, “I missed you too kid” you both chuckle ,as he pulls your closer ,Chris then pulls out his headphone putting one earbud in his ear and the other in yours ,the smile on your lips growing at Chris’s move. He pulls out his phone playing a playlist called (Her favorite) and pressing play ,as songs u love to listen too goes through the headphones,You look up at Chris with a smile “you like this ,goof?” U giggle as u softly nod “how do you know my fav songs kid?” he looks down at you “I just do ,don’t ask” he said with a grin displaying on his lips. As the next song starts rolling in,It’s a “fall” song Your mind immediately goes back to your undying love for Chris ,You start blushing even more “uhm hey..Chris I-i gotta tell you something but promise not to freak out-“ you say trying to hide how nervous you were ,but it was impossible. Chris looks down at you waiting for you to speak up and say what you were going to say “I like you…well love -I have been since last year,fall..” His eyes slightly widen ,a dark shade of pink start to form on cheeks “wait-what ,you l-like me, like…Like like me?” You nod your anxiety rising by the second ,you fidget around with the zipper of your sweater, suddenly you feel Chris’s cold hands on your chin pulling your head towards him, “I love you too..” he softly says as the song continues to play through the headphones, when you hear Chris’s words your heart beats faster ,it’s like a dream come true... “Kinda funny hm? No wonder fall is yours favorite season huh darling?” Chris chuckles ,a smirk growing on his lips ,Your blush increases,”oh shut up!” You say with a giggle as Chris gently pulls you into a soft kiss..your body relaxes..

-Chris softly pulls away from the kiss ,burying his face in the crook of your neck. As the playlist continues playing hearing Chris mumble against your neck “your favorite…”

A/N:sorry for any spelling errors ,my stories low key ass so my bad hope u liked this one,have Good day!

[tortellinigirl]

i think the adult relationship to the childhood dog is something that is so tender and heart-wrenching and important. you are the last vestige of my childhood. you are the sacred keeper of the memories i hold dearest, but you can barely see or hear me anymore. who do i become once you’re gone? where do i turn to remember myself? you’re the last one sitting next to me at the door of a childhood home that no longer exists, waiting patiently for the return of a family that no longer exists. where can i live when you, too, no longer exist? i can’t let go. please don’t make me let go. i know you’ll leave soon. i wish you didn’t have to. but she’s just a dog. her life is short and i will witness her death and i’ve known this from the beginning. i didn’t think it would come so fast. am i ready? have i become someone yet? have i become unrecognizable to her yet? does she still see the child i was? i’m still the child i was. please, don’t forget the child i was. please don’t take her away from me.

[imflyingfish]

bahh i want to chat about learning french but its kind of difficult. like either its super uninteresting to most people or i feel like i can come off as pretentious or whatever if im not careful and noo im just excited to both play videogames and learn a language. im literally a nerdd. anyway im going to make a post on that

[steakout-05]

having social anxiety on tumblr dot com is so fucking frustrating cause like. i'll see a post i like and want to reblog but i do it with so so so much embarrassment because my brain's just thinking "oh god oh fuck im being so stupid right now what if op sees it and thinks im annoying" but like. they realistically would either not care at all or be happy about someone reblogging their post so like what the actual fuck am i afraid of??? but here's the kicker. the reason i have social anxiety in the first place is because i HAVE experienced these comically horrible social experiences of being judged and insulted for no reason before. multiple times. recently. the possibility of this happening is not a 0 chance. i have legitimate reasons to be afraid. and that is. actually horrific

[girlfriendline]

"i consider him one of my favourite teammates i've ever played with...

...it was a highlight to me, was what we went through, and being able to share it with him and knowing that we're gonna be able to do it for, hopefully, the rest of our careers."

(two minutes of matthew declaring his love for barky and how they've planned out the remainder of their lives together)

[alongtidesoflight]

.

[whenthegoldrays]

Hmm

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

The horrors* are endless

[yamujiburo]

A few months ago, some of you might know if you keep up with this blog, I went to Collect-A-Con LA. It was truly on a whim. Literally the day before my girlfriend and I had just come back from our Europe trip. Normally I'd be so tired and jetlagged but for some reason I was feeling really antsy and energized and just needed to go somewhere and get out of the house.

I found out that Collect-A-Con LA was happening the following day and that a lot of the original Pokemon voice cast would be there. So I bought a ticket, drew/printed up a picture that I wanted to get signed and got up early to drive to the convention center (you have to understand that I hate driving in town and also very much never wake up early). I don't know what possessed me to do this but I'm so glad I did.

I ended up having the privilege of meeting Eric Stuart, Veronica Taylor and of course, Rachael Lillis.

She was masked up, looked tired, and a bit sick. And at the time, I assumed she might've caught a cold over the weekend of the con. I went to her table and she still smiled and gave me all of her attention and time. I paid her assistant for an autograph, gave Rachael the drawing I'd done and she got to signing it. Her assistant said the print I had was cute and asked where I got it. I told her that I drew it myself and that I spent a LOT of my time drawing Team Rocket and other various Pokemon fanart. When I said that, Rachel stopped mid-sign and looked up and squinted at me and asked "are you Kiana Mai"? My heart skipped. I had no idea she knew who I was and was surprised that, given how many Pokemon fanartists there are in the world, she was able to pick me out. I left that interaction so happy and felt so seen. Soon after, I went to get my print signed by Veronica Taylor and while in her line, noticed Rachael had left her table; presumably not feeling well and had to leave the con early. I remember thinking how lucky I was to catch her before she left.

A couple months later, I saw the gofundme that her sister posted, detailing what Rachel was going through for the past few years and her battle with cancer. It put that convention day in such a different perspective for me.

All I could think about was how much she cared about her fans and how in touch with her community she was to go to a convention while being in so much pain and suffering in silence. I obviously don't know her personally, but based on how other fans who've met her, as well as her colleagues have spoken about her, I got the impression that she was an amazing, thoughtful person who cared about the people around her. That was only solidified for me based on this singular interaction a few months ago.

Rest in Peace Rachael Lillis. You've touched so many lives with your voice and so much of us grew up listening you. Thank you for everything!

[boomerang109]

.

[swampndn]

Lol y'all know I'm STRUGGLIN when my therapist suggests a support group, and my knee-jerk reaction was "that sounds nice. I'm interested in that."

[phagodyke]

I have to be up for work in 3 hours and I'm gonna be real I think ive hit the point where I might not be getting any sleep at all. for fucks sake.

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

A/N: I said I was gonna get this done and it took me way too long and has an absurd word count but I am incapable of holding in word vomit! Inspired by She Wolf by Shakira cause idc its GOOD and it got me thinking' so here it is. Also you don't have to listen to the song as you read but I think It's fun!

Summary: You've got a crush on your best friend and he's a bit of a dick. He regrets it and tries to apologize but you're already trying to push yourself to move on any way you can, even if it's in some shady club you'd never been to before.

Warnings: MDNI 18+, swearing, Logan's kind of an asshole for a minute, Possessive/jealous!Logan, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), friends to lovers cause that's my fave, fem reader, mutant reader, unnamed creepy guy (?) aaaand Logan absolutely has a pain kink. I think that's it but if there's any I missed please let me know!

Word Count: 7K (im so sorry but I'm not though)

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

You looked up from your desk towards Ororo’s voice, sighing and taking your glasses off your nose.

“God, I don’t know, ‘ro. I don’t think I should. It’s just going to end with me being humiliated and him never wanting to even be in the same room as me again.”

You’d had a crush on Logan Howlett since the day you first walked through the doors of the mansion six months ago. You’d probably be considered best friends by now with how much time you’d spend together, doing jack shit around the mansion on your days off. Just about everyone could tell he had a soft spot for you and that you had one for him. Logan was a classic ‘tough guy’, constantly trying to hide his kind nature with a hard exterior, but it took only a couple weeks for you to crack that barrier. You weren’t exactly a seemingly ‘soft’ type either.

You’d spent the majority of your life before you joined the X-men hoping from couch to couch and hitching rides with strangers, not really having a destination or a place to call home. You’d been dropped off at a church when you were fourteen, around the time you started to turn every full moon. Your parents couldn’t live with having to chain their mutant daughter in their basement once a month, and so they dropped you where they thought you’d find some ‘help’. You’d been passed from foster home to foster home till you were eighteen, each one passing you up the moment they realized you were not like them. It was always a slip of the mask, something setting you off to make you so enraged your eyes gleam yellow and your sharp canines make an unfortunate appearance. You took off the second you could and being on the road came with its fair share of creeps; men with terrible intentions looking for opportunities. You’d never wanted to hurt anyone - truly - but when cornered by a creep, it was hard to think anyone would miss them. A couple of local newspapers caught on, debating where the wolf that tore men to shreds had gone. You weren’t an animal. You just had teeth like one.

Knowing you couldn’t lurk in town much longer, you’d hitchhiked your way to a camp occupied with people like you; lost with no place to call home. It was there that you’d met a couple of mutants who told you about Charles Xavier and the place that seemed completely unreal until you set your eyes on it. That felt like a lifetime ago by now. 

“I think you're underestimating how he feels about you,” Ororo said, bringing you back to reality. She was sat on the edge of your bed, flipping through one of your magazines as you worked at your computer to try and make a lesson plan for the coming week. 

“I think you’re overestimating how he feels about me,” you let out a short laugh, shaking your head.

Just as she was about to retort, you both heard someone shout your names from the hallway. You looked at each other curiously and left the room, hearing shouting again. 

“Are you guys gonna play Monopoly with us or what?”

You both giggled and made your way downstairs towards Scott’s voice. Him, Jean, Marie, Bobby and Logan were all sat in the living room, the game already set up on the coffee table. Bobby and Marie were picking out their game pieces, assigning everyone else to their own piece.

“Okay, Logan, you’re gonna be the dog,” Marie smiled, dropping the little metal piece into the palm of his hand. 

He was definitely not as amused, “why do I have to be a damn dog?”

Ignoring him, she handed another piece out to Jean, “you’re the thimble.”

She then handed the boat to Scott, the top hat to you, and the iron to Ororo. You all began the game after Scott painstakingly over-explained the rules and how to play. 

It was a good bit into the game that you all became distracted with conversation, eventually leaving the board game untouched. The topic of compatibility came up somehow, the conversation focused on the joy of Bobby and Marie. 

“I think anyone would be lucky to have what you guys have,” Ororo smiled, shifting her gaze between the two of them.

“And what we have, obviously,” Scott joked, hanging his arm around Jean.

“Gross,” Logan chimed in, taking a sip of the beer he’d hidden in the back of the fridge.

“I think someone is jealous,” Ororo said in a singsong voice, poking his arm.

“Of having someone hang on me all the time? No, thanks,” he scoffed.

As stupid as it was, it made you a little sad to hear he had no interest in even entertaining the idea. It wasn’t a surprise, but still a disappointment nonetheless.

Ororo brought up your name and your eyes went huge, silently begging her to keep her mouth shut.

“You don’t seem to mind her hanging on you all the time. I think you’d be cute together,” she said, smiling mischievously at you. Scott and Jean agreed and you had never wanted to smash your head into a coffee table as much as you did in that moment.

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

It was just seven words, out quick without a second thought, and yet it felt like you’d been punched in the gut. You couldn’t take your eyes off the monopoly board on the table, avoiding everyone’s gaze. 

Definitely not my type of girl. 

“I think I should head to bed, it’s getting late,” you mumbled, keeping your head down to hide your blushed face as you got up from the couch and practically ran out of the room and up the stairs. 

“What the hell was that?” Scott scolded Logan the moment you were out of sight.

“That was so mean,” Ororo chimes in, backhanding him on the arm.

“I didn’t mean to be,” Logan said nervously , shrugging his shoulders, “…do you think she’s mad at me?”

“Probably more hurt than mad,” Jean said honestly. 

“Shit,” he sighed, putting his beer down to rub his face with his hands, “what do I say?”

“Not that,” Marie replied, “why did you even say that anyway? You could’ve just said no.”

“I think you like her and you’re being mean so that she wont like you back because you’re afraid,” Ororo said after a moment of silence. 

Logan sat quiet for a moment, his hands still over his face.

“Am I that easy to read?” His voice was muffled through his hands.

The rest of them couldn’t help exchanging knowing smiles.

“So you finally admit it,huh? You’ve got a crush,” Scott teased.

Logan moved his hands from his eyes to glare daggers at him, “you shut your fucking mouth or I’ll shove that monopoly board where the sun doesn’t shine.”

“I think that’s a yes,” Jean whispered to her boyfriend.

“Talk to her when you see her tomorrow. We’re not going to let you hurt her feelings just because you can’t accept your own,” Ororo advised, lightly patting him on the shoulder.

“Do you think she’s even gonna talk to me?”

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan tried to catch up with you the next day, always seeing you as you were leaving a room he was entering or passing by and even then, you ignored his calls of your name.

It was a little after dinner now and because it was a weekend, a couple of kids were up playing the PlayStation in the living room. Bobby and Marie sat with them, taking turns with the controllers. 

Logan entered the room after about three laps around the mansion, mentioning your name to the both of them.

“Have you guys seen her? I’ve been trying to talk to her all day, she keeps running from me.”

“Can’t really blame her,” Bobby muttered, his eyes never leaving the TV screen as he button smashed. 

“She’s in her room,” Marie answered before Logan could come up with a retort, “she went up before dinner, said she wasn’t hungry.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair, “she’s skipping dinner now too, great.”

“Go talk to her!” She insisted, shooing him away with a wave of her hand.

He made his way to the stairs and up to your bedroom, knocking lightly on your door. Hearing nothing, he knocked again, a little harder. Still, nothing. 

“You can’t avoid me forever, you know. I wanna talk about yesterday, I was a dick.”

Silence. Now he was a little worried. He tentatively grabbed the doorknob and turned, cracking it open a bit.

Your bed was made, your desk was neatly organized and you were nowhere to be seen. He noticed your purse was gone from the usual spot you’d leave it in and your closet was open, a couple garments and some shoes strewn about on the floor. It looked like you’d gotten dressed and dipped. He figured maybe Ororo or Jean might know where you were, leaving your room and looking for them instead. He found them shortly after, huddled in the kitchen. Again, he asked if either of them knew where you were.

“She’s in her room, she went up before dinner,” Ororo answered.

“No, she’s not. And her purse is gone.”

Both women turned to each other with the same worried expression.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Having tried your cellphone about thirteen times from just about everybody’s phones, they all decided they had to tell Charles. He used his ability to connect with every mutant on the planet to try and locate you, visualizing with his eyes closed. Everyone stood in his study, anxiously awaiting his conclusion. After a moment of silence, he started to silently chuckle to himself.

“What’s so funny?” Logan asked immediately, crossing his arms and furrowing his eyebrows.

“I���m afraid you all have your work cut out for you,” he replied, finally opening his eyes.

“So, where is she?” Ororo asked, worry in her voice. 

“There is a club called The Nightcrawler - “ Charles began to explain, but Logan interjected impatiently. 

“Club? What, like a book club?” He nearly scoffed. There was no way you were at some sleazy nightclub in the city. You were a homebody and an introvert, neither of which made clubbing enjoyable. 

“Maybe we should just let her have fun,” Jean began to say, but Logan was already halfway out the door.

Uncharacteristically, you found yourself dressed to the nines in the middle of a dance floor full of people. You’d spent a while trying outfits in your room, searching for something you could actually wear out that wasn’t sweatpants and a hoodie. You’d settled on a halter top that tied at your neck and in the back and a pair of ridiculously tight pants that you’d bought forever ago and never had the guts to wear. You ended up standing in front of the mirror, choosing a pair of very cute but very uncomfortable shoes and looking over the outfit. If you weren’t Logan’s ‘type of girl’, you sure as hell were somebody’s. Trying to get yourself out there may be the best solution to forgetting the heart-crushing infatuation you had with your best friend who would never see you as anything more. 

“I feel ridiculous,” you chuckled to yourself, turning in the mirror to see the back of your outfit. You did look good, just super out of your comfort zone. You grabbed your bag and ended up slipping out when everyone was eating dinner. That’s how you ended up where you were, pushing your way through the crowd of people with a drink in your hand. You passed the raised lounge area and felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn suddenly.

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

He was tall, leaning down a little to shout over the music. He was pretty good looking but didn’t look like Logan in the slightest, which you realized was exactly the point of going out tonight. He was dressed nice and smelled like expensive cologne. 

“Sure, why not?”

As you abandoned your half finished drink on a table and let him pull you a little further into him, a familiar song started to thump through the speakers.

“I love this song!” You exclaimed, letting the nameless guy rest his hands on your hips.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

Logan walked ahead of Ororo, Jean and Scott, his long legs taking him much further at a much faster pace.

“Logan, slow down!” Ororo called out, jogging a bit to catch up with him.

“What if she didn’t even want to be there? What if some guy dragged her there?”

“Oh,” Jean laughed, “ I see. You’re jealous.” 

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

“So you’d be fine if we walked in there and she is with a guy?” 

Logan slowed his pace as they approached the entrance, “sure, whatever,” feigned disdain in his voice.

The second the door opened, the bass of the music was overwhelming. It was dim, save for a few colorful lights projecting around the room. The four of them were squished together near the door, trying to pick you out in a sea of moving people. 

“This is gonna be like finding a needle in a haystack,” Scott shouted.

“Not necessarily,” Ororo replied, a smug smile on her face.

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

You didn’t even look like you. He’d never seen you in anything that showed that much skin or any clothes that even hugged you like that, for that matter. 

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

It's going well so far, she's gonna get her way

“So, what did we tell you?” Jean shouted, waving her hand in front of his glaring eyes.

“Just some kid,” he replied dismissively, turning to her, “doesn’t mean anything anyway.”

“You sure?” Scott nudged his shoulder, making Logan look towards you again.

That kid had his hands up the sides of your top with his head craned down to kiss your neck, your back to his chest. You were giggling, playfully smacking his arm. Truthfully, you thought the attention was nice for a change. After trying so hard for too long to get Logan to notice you, it felt good to have someone pay attention to you in that way. 

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

You felt his hands squeeze your hips a little harder, enough for his nails to dig into your skin. Out of instinct, you felt your canine teeth start to poke against your lower lip. You tried in vain to tug his hands from you, only making him tighten his grip.

The switch in demeanor was obvious even from across the dark room, your smile turning into a grimace that bared your sharp teeth. You yanked the sleeves of his jacket to make him finally let go, turning around while he still had his arms ghosted around you.

S.O.S., she's in disguise

S.O.S., she's in disguise

“Touch me like that again, you son of a bitch, and I will rip you to fucking shreds.”

You gathered fistfuls of his shirt, bringing him down to eye level so he could see your snarling teeth and gleaming eyes as a hint that you weren’t bluffing. 

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

Before anyone could even tell him to stay put, Logan had already disappeared into the crowd of people.

“God damn it,” Scott huffed, following Jean and Ororo when they went after him. 

“Logan!” Jean yelled, trying to grab his jacket to slow him and only having him slip out of her grip. 

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

“Shit, I’m kinda into the fangs. What, you gonna bite me?” He was whispering in your ear, your hands still on his shirt. Before you could do something you were going to regret, you felt someone tug your upper arm and pull you away from him.

“Come on,” Logan snapped, “we’re leaving.”

“What the hell are you doing here? What do you mean we?” You yelled back. You didn’t want to stay anywhere near that guy but you weren’t ready to leave either and sure as hell not with Logan dragging you out like an angry parent.

“Hey, she doesn’t really look like she wants to leave with you, man,” the other guy interjected, keeping a grip on you by looping his fingers through one of the belt loops on your pants. 

“Yeah? She doesn’t want to stay with you either, jackass,” Logan moved his hand from your arm to hold your hand instead, “she’s not interested.”

What the hell had gotten into him? You felt like you were in the middle of a tug of war with two dogs. 

“No one’s gonna fucking ask what I want, right?” You tried to complain, neither of them hearing you. 

“Your little doggy girlfriend here was just about to take care of me. You mad about it?” The other guy laughed and you nearly lunged at him, Logan’s hand tugging you back. He intended to pull you away so he could get to him first, but Scott, Jean and Ororo jumped in just in time. 

“Alright - enough, enough, we’re leaving!” Jean yelled, pushing you all towards the door, Logan dragging you the whole way. When you finally were out in the cool evening air, you angrily yanked your hand from his.

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked, turning to Logan, “and what the fuck was that?”

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

“I didn’t ask you to come save me - from what, having a good time?”

“Oh, yeah, it looked like you were having a lot of fun,” he scoffed, “he had you by the hip so hard he probably left a bruise.”

He instinctively reached his hand out to check and you swatted it away, “Don’t - Don’t touch me!”

None of them had ever heard you sound so pissed off and you’d definitely never snapped at Logan like that before. 

You took a deep breath and reached down to slip off your shoes, leaving you barefoot on the concrete. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized to the rest of them,” but why are you guys here?”

“You left without saying anything, we couldn’t find you and we wanted to be sure you were safe,” Ororo sighed, hugging you in relief, “we’re so glad you’re okay.” 

You hugged her back.

“I just - I wanted to disappear for a while,” you explained apologetically, avoiding Jean and Scott’s gaze. 

“Do you know how stupid it was to run off and not tell anyone where you were going?” Logan scolded you, but Jean clicked her tongue at him.

“Shut it! Enough from you! You’ve done enough damage control!”

The ride home was almost silent, your tired body slumped in the backseat between Scott and Jean, until Ororo spoke from the front passenger seat.

“Honey, I don’t mean this in a bad way, but,” she paused, thinking over her words, “what were you gonna do to that guy if we hadn’t stopped you?”

You understood what she meant immediately. 

“What, you think I was going to kill him?” you asked, crossing your arms and leaning forward in your seat, “I wasn’t. I don’t do that unless I have to and you know even then I hate doing it.”

“I know…so, what were you doing with a guy like him anyway?” she asked, trying to move on from the question that had clearly made you upset, “he seemed kinda shady.”

Logan was gripping the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles were white, dreading the answer.

You shrugged your shoulders, staring at the synthetic fabric of your pants.

“Liked the attention, I guess,” you answered honestly, kind of hoping you could throw anyone off the idea of you being interested in Logan, “it’s been awhile since a guy has liked me like that.”

“He only wanted one thing from you anyway,” he scoffed from the front seat. Ororo glared at him, about to tell him to mind his business before you stopped her.

“And I can’t want it either?”

That shut everybody up and Ororo turned to him again, a look on her face that said ‘you asked, you got the answer’.

You tried to bolt to your room when you all got home but Logan was quick to follow, catching up with you to stand in your path in the hallway outside of your bedroom. 

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

You tried to dodge around him but he stuck his arm out. 

“Logan.”

He raised his eyebrows, waiting for you to continue speaking.

“Move.”

“I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me what’s going on with you. You don’t disappear like that, ever. And I wanna talk to you about last night - “

“There’s nothing to talk about. Goodnight,” you huffed, ducking under his arm and opening your door.

“I care about you, you know, I was worried,” he began to explain.

You tried to slam the door in his face but he stuck his foot out, jamming his boot between the door and the doorframe. You let go in defeat and turned away, gathering your pajamas as if he wasn’t in the room.

“Yeah? Why?,” you scoffed, trying with everything in you to bite your tongue but failing miserably, “I’m not your type of girl. What’s there to worry about?”

Logan’s face fell. He pushed the door closed behind him. 

“Is that what this is about? That’s why you went out?”

“Why do you care?” 

You still had your back to him, furiously shuffling through clothing in your dresser.

“Stop.” 

You felt his hands on your arms as he came up behind you, paralyzing you in your spot.

You let him turn you around gently, almost chest to chest.

“I didn’t mean that.”

“You don’t have to lie to spare my feelings -“

“I’m not.”

He leaned back a little to force you to look him in the eye.

“I only said that - listen, I only said that because - “ Logan paused, biting his lip till it nearly bled, but you shook your head and slipped by him again.

“Please, don’t treat me like I’m stupid, Logan.”

You sounded so exasperated, tears forming in your eyes when you turned your back to him.

“Fuck,” he sighed, “I only said that because I didn’t want you to like me.”

You wiped the tear that rolled down your cheek and turned back to him, a confused expression on your face.

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

“Well, guess it backfired. Get out of my room.”

You were face to face again, keeping your mouth in a tight line so your lip wouldn’t quiver. It felt stupid to cry in front of him, but you couldn’t really help it once it started. 

“Oh, god, please, don’t cry,” he begged, leaning down and actually bringing a hand up to your face to wipe away a tear that rolled down your cheek. You wanted to smack it away, tell him again to just get the hell out , but you couldn’t.

“Why would you do that?” You mumbled out quietly, finally letting the overwhelming feeling of sadness cancel out any rage you had for him. You couldn’t look him in the eye again, concentrating on the throw rug you were standing on.

“I’m so sorry, princess, I am. I’m really fucking stupid,” he huffed. 

You were surprised by the softness of his voice and finally tore your eyes from the floor. He’d called you that before, but usually in a teasing way. This time it sounded endearing, like a plea of your name. 

“And what happened there, at the club? ‘She’s not interested’, what was that about?” You continued.

He sighed, still trying to figure out what exactly it was that he wanted to say. He realized there probably wasn’t much of a way to beat around the bush and he groaned, closing his eyes as he stood in front of you to make spilling his guts a little less agonizing.

“I like you - like you a lot, and I was an asshole because I figured if you hated me, you couldn’t like me back and it would save you the trouble.”

Hearing no response, he finally opened his eyes to see you still standing in the same spot, your lips parted.

“Save me the trouble of what?”

You were confused, your eyes narrowed as if you were angry.

“I don’t know…having to deal with me, I guess. I - I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else and it scares the shit out of me.”

You could hear him swallow hard, his eyes looking everywhere around the room except at you. 

“And earlier, when we picked you up,” he continued, “I acted like that because I was jealous, alright? Can’t stand to see some asshole on you like that, and you were dressed all nice and - I don’t know.”

You’d never heard him sound so nervous in all the time you’d known him.

“You are my type of girl,” he finally choked out, “only type of girl I’d ever want.”

All you could do was inhale sharply, his words echoing in your mind. 

“It’s alright if you hate me, I can’t say I really blame you. Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He began to walk out, convinced he’d fucked up beyond repair.

“Logan.”

Your voice stopped his hand from turning your doorknob and he turned back to you. 

No longer crying, you tentatively stepped forward a bit, nervously playing with the front hem of your top. 

“You’re not something to deal with, you know,” you muttered, letting your hair fall in front of your face.

You supposed this was the point where it was your turn to explain.

“I’ve liked you for a long time, Logan, probably since the day I walked in here and I just - I think I wanted someone to distract me so I wouldn’t wallow in self pity because you didn’t want me.”

“You were trying to get over me,” he realized aloud, a small smile on his face to hide the hurt, “I deserved that.”

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

His voice was low and soft, a tone you’d rarely heard him speak with.

You pursed your lips and finally lifted your head, taking a deep breath. 

“No. I don’t think it was ever going to, either,” you laughed a little, “when that guy asked me to dance, the first thing I thought of was that he didn’t look anything like you.”

Your voice trailed off a little at the end, a little embarrassed to confess that even if Logan had already flat out told you he was interested in you.

Without another word, he came close enough to reach for your hands and gently intertwine your fingers with his. He cleared his throat, nervously chewing his bottom lip before he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?”

You must have had this dream a million times over, waking up night after night and feeling so empty because none of it was real. But now, with his hands in yours, it was very real.

You eagerly pressed your lips to his, not wanting to waste another second. His lips were soft and you were encompassed in the scent of his body wash and cologne, smelling of pine and cedar wood. You brought your hands up to play with his hair at the back of his head. Logan moved his arms to wrap around your waist, pulling you further into him. 

When you finally pulled away from each other, you were both smiling like idiots.

“We should’ve done that much sooner,” you giggled.

“Agreed.”

His fingers traced small circles on the exposed skin of your back, making you shiver.

He kissed you again, this time with much more intensity. It wasn’t long before your tongues were in each other's mouths and you both had fumbled yourselves over to the end of your bed.

“Wanted you for so long,” he mumbled between kissing your neck and jaw, his hands still sliding up and down your back, “I was so stupid.”

“We both were,” you giggled a little, cut short into a moan when he licked your neck all the way from your collarbone to under your ear.

“L-Logan,” you gasped, unable to hide your blushing face.

He hummed into your neck, bringing his mouth to your ear, “Can I show you how sorry I am? Let me make it up to you.”

His voice made the hair on the back of your neck stand up and you let him pull you onto him to straddle his lap, lost in the feeling of his hands on you.

“Mmm, uh-huh,” you hummed, mouth hung open as he sucked light marks into your neck. 

“You have to use your words, pretty girl,” he brought his head up to rest his forehead against yours. He cupped your jaw tenderly, almost as if you’d disappear if he let go. 

Before you could answer, he moved his hands to drag your hips over his, grunting when he felt the pressure.

“Y-yes, yeah - please,” you choked out between moans, tugging his hair harder every time he pushed and pulled your hips.

“Please what, baby?”

“You - you can make it up to me,” you groaned into his neck. 

He effortlessly lifted you by your thighs and laid you with your back to the bed. You untucked his white t-shirt from his jeans as he crawled over you, desperate to get your hands underneath it. You lightly scratched your nails along his back, making him groan into your ear. He kissed down your neck to the center of your chest, gently slipping his fingers under the hem of your top and around the back. 

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

You were already sitting up before he could finish his sentence, reaching to try and untie the knot at the back of your neck.

“Eager, huh?”, he chuckled, “let me, sweetheart.”

He wrapped his arms around your lower back to tug at the knot, feeling it come loose in his hands. He snaked his hands up to the back of your neck, doing the same to the tied strings there. When it came loose, the only thing holding the piece of fabric to you was his hands at the back of your neck. He let it slip from his fingers, a smirk on his face when it fell completely.

You threw the garment somewhere to the floor and tugged on the collar of his t-shirt, bringing him down with you as laid back again and pressed your lips to his. He pulled back for a moment to yank his shirt off and immediately return his mouth to yours, making his way down to your neck. He brought both his hands to your chest and swept his thumbs over your hard nipples, eventually bringing his lips to them and sucking. 

“Ah - Logan,” you whined, making him smile against your skin.

“I like it when you say my name, pretty girl,” he mumbled, dragging his fingers down your sides and hooking them into the waistband of your pants. He kissed all the way down to your hips, moving himself to lay on his stomach with his head between your thighs. 

Before he could ask you if it was alright to rid you of them, you were already unbuttoning your pants and pushing them down your hips and thighs. He took them off the rest of the way for you and you kicked your panties off with them.

He hooked his arms around your thighs to pull you closer, licking his lips and resting his cheek on the inside of your thigh.

“I thought about you a lot, you know - like this,” he huffed, his warm breath fanning over your pussy.

You had your hands in his hair already, swiping fallen strands of hair out of his face.

“I thought about you like this, too,” you admitted, sighing as he started to plant kisses right above where you wanted him the most.

“Yeah?”

His teasing voice brought goosebumps to your skin and you nodded, gasping when you finally felt his lips graze your clit.

“This what you think about when you fuck yourself?” He mumbled into you, the vibration of his voice making you tighten your grip in his hair. He growled like an animal, trying to push you even further into his mouth by the grip on your thighs.

You were trying to choke out an answer, distracted by the wet sounds of him messily eating you out.

“Y - ah, yes, yeah - not as good as the real thing, though.”

He laughed with his mouth still attached to you and you tightened your thighs around his head, keeping him in place.

He could have spent hours with his mouth to your cunt, practically fucking you with his tongue while you whined his name. 

A knock on your door sounded through the room, the both of you freezing in place.

“Hey, I just wanted to check on you. Are you feeling okay?”

It was Scott.

 You grimaced, thankful at the very least that your door was locked, but Logan had a terribly smug smirk on his face. 

“Y-yeah, I’m alright, just - just tired,” you managed to choke out, stuttering when you felt two of his fingers slip into you effortlessly.

“You sure?”

You sighed, hating and loving Logan at the same time for what he was doing. 

“Yup, th-thank you, m’ jus’ gonna go to bed.”

Scott responded with a goodnight and you groaned in relief when you heard him walk away.

Logan was curling his fingers inside of you, still lapping at your pussy and letting you use your grip on his hair to angle his head however you wanted him. You felt the pressure in your lower stomach rise and you tried to warn him, tugging on the hair on the back of his head.

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

His encouragement sent you over the edge, euphoria blooming from your lower stomach and spreading through you. You had to cover your mouth to muffle your pornographic moans, but Logan reached up to tug your wrist.

“Uh-uh, wanna hear you, beautiful,” he mumbled into you, practically pushing your thighs even further around his head.

“Fuck, L-Logan, too - too sensitive,” you stuttered out, trying to pull his face away by his hair and failing miserably because of his grip around your thighs.

He eventually reluctantly detached himself and crawled back on top of you, sucking the taste of you off his fingers. 

“I could do that for hours, you know, if you let me,” he groaned, pulling your hips up to him so you could feel the weight of his hard cock underneath his jeans.

Still sensitive, you reactively gripped his biceps and dug your fingernails into his skin. You were going to apologize and were quickly cut off by the guttural moan he let out into the side of your neck.

“Fuck,” he groaned, rocking his hips against yours.

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

You figured it was your turn to tease him, dragging your fingernails from his shoulders all the way down his back.

“You’re gonna pay for that, pretty girl,” he grunted, moving quickly to undo his belt and strip himself of the rest of his clothing. 

When his cock sprung up and hit his stomach as he took off his boxers, you swallowed hard; already feeling a wanting ache in your stomach again. You figured he was big - he was already a tall guy, after all - but he was far bigger than any guy you’d ever seen. Logan noticed the way you bit your lower lip, resting himself on top of you again and bringing his thumb up to pull your lip from under your teeth.

“What, are you nervous? It’s alright sweetheart, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

His voice was so soft and gentle, a tone you rarely ever heard from him. 

You could feel the weight of his cock against your inner thigh, heavy and already leaking. 

“ ‘m not nervous, I want you, please,” you begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. You reached your hand between your bodies to line him up with your entrance, trying to push him in with your legs around his waist. 

“You sure?” he huffed, trying with every muscle in his body to not slam into you in one thrust. 

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

Logan couldn’t help himself and gave in, slipping himself into you.

“So tight,” he groaned into your neck, pushing himself in even further.

“You - fuck - you’re so fucking big,” you admitted truthfully, nearly drooling at the feeling of him stretching you out. 

“Feels good?”

It was hard for him to speak when you were so wet that he was nearly slipping out of you as he gently rocked his hips back and forth, trying to be gentle and let you adjust to his size. 

“Mm - uh-uh,” you hummed, gasping each time he pushed further.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he huffed and you groaned, digging your nails into him. 

“Y-yes, yeah - want you all the way in,” you whimpered.

That was all it took for him to be buried in you, grinding his hips into yours so that you were pinned to the mattress. 

He worked up to a devastating pace, practically slamming your headboard into the wall.

“S-someone’s gonna - someone’s gonna hear us,” you managed to gasp out, out of breath every time he filled you and pulled back again. 

“Don’t care, let ‘em,” he pressed his forehead to yours, bringing a hand up to your face to affectionately cup your cheek. It was so sweet and almost disgustingly hot, the caring gesture contrasting the intense feeling of him repeatedly slamming into the sensitive spot inside of you. 

He really didn’t have a care in the world about who heard you both, far too lost in the feeling of finally being able to have you under him like that. You had sweat soaked strands of hair stuck to your face, your eyes squeezed shut, and he was almost sure you’d never looked more beautiful. 

“So fucking pretty,” he huffed, his thumb swiping your bottom lip. He had an idea, one he’d considered many times when he thought of you under him like this.

“Bite me.”

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, threading your hand through his hair, “are you sure?”

“Please.”

You forcibly unsheathed your fangs, letting them tentatively poke at his thumb that was still to your lips.

He moved his hand to your throat, resting it there without tightening his grip. 

“Please.”

His pleading had the heat in your lower stomach rising and you obliged, sinking your teeth into his shoulder. You felt guilty - you didn’t enjoy hurting people - until he was whimpering in your ear, moaning your name over and over again. 

You bit his neck, his shoulders, his lip - all the small puncture wounds healing themselves within seconds. 

Having him so pussy drunk and groaning praises into your ear brought the pressure in your lower stomach to a max and you cried out his name, letting him fuck you through your second orgasm. 

“ ‘s good, huh, princess? Come on me, c’mon,” he was begging, feeling your muscles tense around him. That drove him over the edge, his hips rutting into you and his thrusts becoming sloppy. He finally let himself go, filling you and letting it drip from you onto the sheets. He pulled back a little to see the mess you had both made, your inner thighs painted with a mix of his release and yours. He went to pull out completely and you clamped your thighs around his hips again, keeping him still.

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

The sexual tension was replaced with loving comfort, Logan keeping you to his chest as he laid you both on your side. His chin rested on the top of your head and your face was against his chest with your eyes closed. You smiled at the thump of his heartbeat in your ear, nearly letting it put you to sleep. 

“Hey, pretty girl,” he mumbled into your hair, planting a kiss on the top of your head, “you know I love you?”

The last three words made your eyes shoot open and you looked up at him, worried you’d misheard him or maybe he was just messing with you.

“Really?”

“Of course. You think I would’ve done that with you if I wasn’t in love?”

You thought hard for a second, realizing he was right. It wasn’t that he hadn’t had hookups before, but it had been quite a long time since he’d bothered to even get to know someone like that. He wasn’t the type to lead you on, either - always up front with you, even if he didn’t have to be. 

“I love you too,” you answered, unable to hide the wide smile on your face.

“I should’ve told you much sooner,” he sighed, his eyes fluttering closed as you snuggled into him again.

Before you could both fall asleep from exhaustion, he yanked the comforter over the both of you, hearing you mumble sleepily.

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

A/N: If you made it to the end I love you <3 pls lmk what you think and reblog+like if you enjoyed!! also still navigating how to write smut without using cringe terminology so forgive me if that part sucks