#it 2017 headcanons
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
brynnterpretations ¡ 4 months ago
Text
WHAT MUSIC THE LOSERS CLUB LISTENS TO ☝
Tumblr media
Ben Hanscom
Ben loves sentimental ‘80s pop and boy bands, with his favorite artists being New Edition, New Kids on the Block, and The Jets. It sounds good, is catchy, and most of all, resonates with Ben — say what you want about that sort of music, but the tracks are undeniably well-written (even if corny in today’s standards), and Ben loves it for the artistry and sound. Plus, the singers always look really cool.
Beverly Marsh
Bev loves female-fronted classic rock, with her favorite artists being Blondie, Joan Jett & the Blackhearts, and The Runaways. After her mother passed of breast cancer when Bev was three, the only music record she’d left behind was The Runaways’ self-titled debut album, and she listened to  it religiously. Because of that, she developed a taste for rock and alternative music led by women, and her room is chock-full of Stevie Nicks posters. 
Bill Denbrough
Bill loves folk and psychedelia, with his favorite artists being Donovan, Jefferson Airplane, and Harry Nilsson. Bill likes music that he can appreciate the lyrics of yet still “turn off his brain to”, and especially enjoys ones that are intertwined with nature (whether it’s the songwriting or the “feel” of the song). 
Eddie Kaspbrak
Eddie loves ‘60s doo-wop, with his favorite artists being . Eddie. Because he’s so sheltered that even the radio is off limits to him, Eddie grew up on older music, but he likes it — it reminds him of Coca-Cola, summer bike rides with the rest of the Losers, and sunny days. Admittedly, Eddie also is a big fan of ‘60s girl bands like The Shirelles, but he tries to hide it due to Richie being an ass. 
Mike Hanlon 
Mike loves classic rock with blues influences, with his favorite artists being Howlin’ Wolf, John Lee Hooker, and Muddy Waters. Mike was raised on the 20th-century blues powerhouses by his family — AKA Charley Patton, Robert Johnson, and Son House — and his music taste reflects that. He is a huge music guy, and takes special care of all his vinyls. 
Richie Tozier
Richie loves funky, upbeat new wave, with his favorite artists being DEVO, Oingo Boingo, and Walls of Flesh. Basically, he likes fun, textured music that stimulates his thirteen-year-old brain, with interesting lyrics that range from humorous to absolutely nonsensical. In contrast to Mike, while Richie loves music, he does not take care of his equipment, and has fried his Sony CD player from the sheer force he used to blast “Dead Man’s Party” through it. 
Stan Uris
Stan loves “big band” and swing music, with his favorite artists being Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and Louis Armstrong. Stan-the-Man, ever prim and proper, has always been attracted to more sophisticated music, but still likes the fun, jazzy stuff that his favorite musicians offer — see “You Make Me Feel So Young” by Frank Sinatra, one of his all-time favorites.
32 notes ¡ View notes
shybluebirdninja ¡ 27 days ago
Text
Clawsome Dad
Summary: When Logan mistakenly thinks you’re pregnant (you're not), he gets way too excited about baby names and starts building a baby-proof bunker in the backyard.
Pairing            : Mutant!Logan Howlett x Wife!Human-reader
Note                : fluff
Tumblr media
It all started with Logan catching you looking at a baby onesie at the store—once. You didn’t even touch the thing, just smiled at it for like, two seconds before moving on to the checkout. But that was enough for Logan. His superhuman reflexes missed nothing. You hadn’t even gotten through the door before he had this weird look on his face—half intense, half like he was about to tear through the drywall with his claws.
“Babe?” he asked, voice low, as if he were interrogating a witness. “Is there somethin’ you wanna tell me?”
You blinked at him, setting down the groceries. “Uh… no?”
Logan stepped closer, sniffing the air around you. You rolled your eyes. This man and his feral senses. “You’re sure? Nothin’... different?” he pressed, like he was waiting for you to drop some major bombshell.
“I’m sure, Logan. What’s with the third degree? Did I do something?” you asked, confused.
Then it hit you. His eyes flickered to your stomach, and you nearly choked.
Oh hell no.
“Wait, wait, wait,” you held up your hand, waving off the insanity that was clearly brewing in his head. “I am not pregnant.”
Logan frowned, not entirely convinced. “But you were lookin’ at that baby crap in the store—”
“I looked at a onesie for two seconds, Logan! It was cute, that’s all! Doesn’t mean I’m knockin’ out kids tomorrow!” you laughed, but the man didn’t seem amused.
“No baby?” he repeated, brows knitting together like he wasn’t entirely sure you knew how your own body worked.
“NO baby, Logan. Geez,” you reiterated, shaking your head, but the damage was already done.
Over the next couple of days, things got weird. He started acting real strange—asking you about baby names out of nowhere while you were brushing your teeth.
“Thoughts on ‘James Jr.’?” he muttered casually, mid-toothbrush stroke.
You spat out toothpaste, staring at him through the mirror. “James Jr.? Are you serious?”
Logan shrugged. “Seems practical. What, you don’t like it?”
“I—Logan, we are not naming a non-existent kid right now. Where’s this comin’ from?” You were barely containing your laughter. The man could take down an entire squad of bad guys without breaking a sweat, but the idea of potential parenthood had him spiraling into this dad mode that was both terrifying and hilarious.
The worst of it came when you caught him in the backyard, shirtless, sweat dripping, hammering away at something… with adamantium claws fully out. It was definitely not a normal Saturday activity, even for Logan.
“What the hell are you doing?” you asked, hands on your hips as you watched him drive metal sheets into the ground like a crazed man.
“Buildin’ a bunker,” he replied gruffly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“A what?”
“A baby-proof bunker. Ain’t no kid of mine growin’ up in a death trap house,” Logan muttered, slamming another panel into place. “This world’s dangerous, and that’s just the neighbors.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. “You—what? Baby-proof… Logan, we don’t even have a baby.”
Logan stopped hammering for a second, looking at you like you were the one missing something here. “But we might, right? Gotta be prepared.”
You slapped your forehead, trying not to lose it. “Prepared for what? An apocalypse where the baby needs a bunker to survive? Babe, seriously, there’s no baby. You don’t need to go full Rambo on the backyard.”
“I’m always prepared,” he grumbled, but there was a glint of uncertainty in his eyes. You could tell he wasn’t ready to back down, though. Logan was never the type to half-ass anything—especially not something he deemed necessary.
By now, the neighbors had definitely noticed. Old Mrs. Jenkins from next door was peeking over the fence with a terrified expression. She whispered something about Logan being a “madman,” which wasn’t entirely untrue in this case.
You sighed, walking up to him and grabbing the hammer from his hand. “Alright, Mr. Clawhammer, we’re done here. Come inside before you scare the rest of the neighborhood.”
Logan hesitated, claws still out. “But—”
“No buts, babe. Unless you’re ready to explain to Mrs. Jenkins why you’re preparing for baby Armageddon, you’re gonna stop now,” you said firmly, dragging him toward the house. “I swear, the last thing we need is for someone to call the cops on your baby-proofing bunker. We’re not even pregnant!”
He let out a gruff noise, retracting his claws with a reluctant snikt. “You sure ‘bout that?” he asked, still looking unconvinced as you pushed him through the door.
You smacked his arm lightly. “Yes, I’m sure. But if I ever do get pregnant, I’m not raising a kid in a damn underground fortress like we’re in some post-apocalyptic wasteland, got it?”
Logan smirked, the edge of his grumpy attitude softening. “Fine, no bunker. But I ain’t changin’ my mind on James Jr.”
“Ugh, you’re impossible.”
“And you love it,” he shot back with a cocky grin.
1K notes ¡ View notes
undertalethingems ¡ 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Unexpected Guests Chapter Ten, Act Two: Page 23
First / Previous / Next (coming soon)
Alphys manages to ignore her girlfriend long enough to bring up a good point; as awesome as Undyne is, she's not invincible. But they aren't the only monsters still on the battlefield...
Look for the next update on Oct. 10th!
1K notes ¡ View notes
lunasblunt ¡ 1 day ago
Text
and what the FUCKKKKKK DO Y’ALL KNOW ABT THIS DAMN TIKTOK EDIT.
488 notes ¡ View notes
cani-bal ¡ 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
first batch of cars human designs yes yes idk how i ended up here after saw but yknow.
495 notes ¡ View notes
x-ghostslovie-x ¡ 3 months ago
Text
This is definitely the most vulgar thing I have ever written and of course I don't mean to sound like an absolute slut but I just wanna kiss all of old man Logan's scars. All the marks on his back, his chest, the ones on his shoulder and his face, most importantly, the ones between his knuckles where his claws come out. He most definitely would make a very similar sound to a cat purring when you run your fingers through his beard or his hair. I just want to let him use my tits as pillows I don't fucking care if he crushes me. Logan would be the absolute best weighted blanket ever in the entire world. I get to cuddle him and he can finally get some well deserved sleep.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
476 notes ¡ View notes
imtherain ¡ 1 month ago
Text
He Brings Me Flowers: (Sex Pollen/Logan) Part One
Hey hey heyo
I'm only a few days late and this is only half the fic, but I promised I'd publish this sooner, so I broke it in half. I'll probably post a full version too at some point.
Warnings: Sex Pollen, some fighting, plants!, surprise lesbians, newly married Jean/Scott, reader is in 1rst person because I write better that way usually, a lot of internal talking, negative self image, kinda of a cliff hanger, no sex specifically but people get a bit frisky.
I promise I'm trying to finish the rest, but my brain cells are tired
Word Count (I shouldn't tell you): just shy of 10k for this one
tagging @gothamnighthawk because I took a screenshot (promptly forgot which thing she wanted tagged in and took the last 20 minutes verifying I had the right fic)
[Masterlist]
[Logan List]
[Part Two!]
Here we go!
It all started with what sounded like a basic mission, recon only, investigating a base that had been found in a dense forest a few miles outside of a small town I’d never heard of, just across the Canadian border. The rumor was that the base was working on creating new biological weapons, but when I landed the jet, all we’d really found was a sudden, inexplicable, field of flowers.
Honestly, the place was extraordinarily beautiful, like stepping into a whole different world. The field was entirely surrounded by trees, sentinels against the outside world, holding the flower field in its arms like it was afraid they would escape. Perhaps that should have been warning enough… something too pretty in a place it shouldn’t be.
No one seemed to have any issues as we approached. And there were a lot of us, considering it was a simple recon mission, but it was a chance to stretch everyone’s legs, so basically anyone who wanted to come along had been allowed to join. 
Jean and Scott hadn’t been on a mission at all since their honeymoon, so they signed up. Rogue had been asking to go on a mission for months now, and Ororo only let her because she tagged along to keep an eye on the younger woman. And then there was Logan, who just seemed to be the default on every mission. I heard Scott joke once that they needed to bring him to ‘take the dog for a walk so he didn’t chew up anyone’s shoes’.
Oh, and of course, there was me.
I really enjoyed going on missions, but mostly because I really enjoyed flying the jet. It not only was a blast, but it made me feel useful, which was nice, because my mutations didn’t really seem all that great compared to everyone else’s. All I could do was freeze someone in time for a bit, which sounds far cooler than it is, and there weren’t exactly a lot of cases for that being particularly useful. I’d only really ever used it to hold someone until someone more important than me could come get them. And even that was rare. 
At the end of the day I was just really fancy handcuffs.
Logan and Scott were bickering while we made our way through the flowers. In patches the petals were yellows, some as big as the mammoth sunflowers my aunt used to grow, and some smaller petalled ones that looked like black-eyed-Susans. Another patch was all creamy whites, three or four different petal groupings. One patch was pale orange, another, brilliant reds. Some looked familiar and some were totally alien to me. It was almost as though every flower someone could think of was here in the field around us.
Jean and Rouge were walking behind the boys, trying to deescalate, and Ororo was right behind them. She seemed just as interested in the flowers as I was.
“Wouldn’t be a mission without those two fighting, would it?” Ororo’s voice came from beside me suddenly. I nodded.
“I swear, I don’t even hear it anymore, it’s just like how I got used to the train whistle when I lived near a crossing,” We laughed.
“Do these flowers seem off to you?” Ororo asked carefully. It was almost as though she was trying to check to see if she was hallucinating or not.
“I was wondering how they got so many varieties to bloom all at once,” I agreed. “Because back that way I saw a whole bunch of flowers that shouldn’t be blooming this time of year, right next to ones that shouldn’t be growing this far north at all,” 
“Maybe they have something to do with the intel we received,” Ororo said. 
“What are you ladies talking about back here,” Logan’s voice drew both of our attention away from the patch of warm golden flowers we’d been admiring.
“Do these flowers seem weird to you?” I asked him. Logan’s eyes traced my face quickly before he glanced across the field. Ororo smirked at me but I ignored her.
“Not really,” He shrugged. “It all smells the same,” 
“What does it smell like?” Ororo asked, obviously hoping for some sort of insight. 
“Flowers,” He said unhelpfully. Ororo rolled her eyes at him and went to catch up with the others. Leaving me alone with Logan. 
Who was staring at me.
“What? Is there something on me?” I asked, alarmed. With this many flowers around, it wouldn’t be a surprise for there to be all kinds of bees. I wasn’t allergic that I knew of, but I also didn’t really want to find out otherwise.
“Nothing,” Logan shook his head. “Just thinking about how it’s been a while since I’ve seen you out on a mission,” 
“I literally fly you to every mission,” I rolled my eyes at him and started walking again. I didn’t want to get too far behind everyone else. Not to mention, being alone with Logan had the bad habit of making me daydream about him falling hopelessly in love with me one day.
Which I knew for a fact, was delusional at best.
“Well yeah, but you usually wait in the jet,” Logan pressed. “It’s nice to see you out,” 
“Just another person for you to show off for, huh?” I smirked, thinking I caught him.
“Nah,” He disagreed. “I don’t show off for those losers,” He nodded towards the group ahead of us with no malice in his tone. “I only show off for pretty girls like you,”
I scoffed.
“Laying it on pretty thick today,” I rolled my eyes at him even though my cheeks were red. Logan chuckled and I hated that I had the feeling he knew exactly how warm his compliment had made my chest.
But I also really wished he wouldn’t tease me so much. I knew he wouldn’t want someone like me and that he only did it to make my blush and nothing more. We were coworkers, neighbors kind of since we both lived in the adult dorms, and sometimes I’d even dare to say we were friends. But anything other than that? There was no way. He only called me pretty as a favor, a harmless tease, the way I told every cat I saw that he was handsome. And I mean, every cat is handsome, so maybe that isn’t the right comparison.
All I knew was that Logan wouldn’t want to fall in love with me. No one ever did. 
I had convinced myself I was just fine with that. Just like every other boy I’d ever gotten feelings for. I was a friend at best, never a girlfriend, never even someone to fuck. I’d made my peace with that as a young woman who found herself surrounded by doors that stayed shut, stayed locked, stayed with their flashing signs that read “Love Inside: No Admittance.”
We came upon the building not long after. It looked remarkably like an office building of some sort, but it was only one story tall and sprawling. Logan, as always, led the charge inside, checking corners and doorways as we made our way through the surprisingly unlocked front doors. I stayed with Ororo and Rouge who were both better in hand to hand situations than I was, even though I had gotten pretty good at sparring. Mostly that was thanks to Logan who taught me how to kick someone’s ass without worrying about hurting them, as that had always been an issue I had sparring with the other women. 
I was simply… bigger than them. Both taller and thicker. Hell, I knew for a fact you could add Ororo and Jean together and I’d still have about 30 pounds on them. Not to mention the time I’d given Ororo a black eye when she had finally convinced me to spar with her, and that was the same day I’d knocked the wind out of her when I wasn’t even trying to. 
Clumsy at best, uncoordinated. Not really useful for much of anything when you can’t even control your limbs correctly. Why would they bother to bring you on missions if you couldn’t fly the jet?
We didn’t see much of anything on the first level of the building. A few cameras mounted high on the wall, but they were all busted and clearly not functional. Empty offices with dusty shelves and overturned chairs. A pile of metal folding chairs collapsed near the front doors.
One room was full of empty flower pots, which was strange but harmless. Honestly, it looked as though no one had even set foot in the place in several years.
The lower level showed signs of life, but not signs of weapons being made.
The level appeared to have been mostly conference rooms originally, large glass windows looking into square spaces from a nondescript hallway. The first one was mostly empty, the only thing left was another stack of those uncomfortable metal chairs pushed against a wall. A large, dark stain, bloomed in the middle of the carpet. It smelled like mold and must.
Most of the other rooms were filled, or at least partially filled, with vines. The whole level smelled thick and cloying like a greenhouse with all the fans off. No airflow. All green air and black earth.
“Never seen anything like this before,” Jean mused.
“What, you never saw Little Shop of Horrors?” Logan asked. 
“Let’s hope this is nothing like that,” Scott slid himself into the conversation, as he always did when Logan talked to Jean. 
“Nothing seems to be moving,” I added. “But everything seems to be alive,” 
“Unsettling,” Rouge shivered at the thought. “And weren’t there supposed to be people here?” 
“Oh god, I hope they aren’t in there with all those vines,” I felt my throat constrict at the thought. 
“I don’t really want those nightmares,” Scott agreed. 
“I don’t sense anything with a heartbeat,” Jean soothed our worries, but seemed a bit nervous about whatever it was she did sense. “Not here anyway,” 
“Are you sensing something somewhere else?” Scott paused in front of her, his hands going to her arms to sooth her. They were sweet, Scott always coming to Jean’s aid, trying to make things ok for her in every way he possibly could. I often wondered if I’d like to be taken care of like that, but I figured it would make me feel like a child, and I hated being treated like a child. 
Jean said something back to Scott and he smiled at her softly.
After a while, watching them just sort of hurt my teeth.
I paused at a desk that was half covered with the greenery spilling out of the room next to it. It almost looked like the vines had either pushed the desk out of their way, or were trying to pull it back in. And these vines seemed to be leafier. Broad expanses begging to get sunlight. I wondered who would be cruel enough to grow plants like that in the dark. Or rather mostly dark, as there were a few fluorescent lights still doing their best.
Under the reaching leaves, I found some papers. Most were water damaged and useless, but one appeared to be an old magazine clipping of a man smiling at the camera, a greenhouse in the background. The way the picture had been torn from the magazine had removed the top half of the man’s head, but you could still make out the smile, still see the teeth.
There was a boy next to the man, but the boy wasn’t smiling. He was holding a potted plant to his chest, as if hoping he could hide behind the many different flower heads all coming out of it. He wore a black jacket that seemed all the more dark next to the taller man’s white lab coat.
“I found a picture,” I said, just loud enough that the others could hear. “Not sure it means anything,” 
“Let me see it,” Ororo came and took it from me. “Hmm, don’t those look kind of like the field outside?” Scott took the old clipping from her next. 
“Yeah, seems close enough to be related. Think the boy or the dad is behind all this then?” Scott asked. He flipped the image over and part of the article was visible, but he didn’t bother sharing it with the class.
“That’s an old magazine,” Logan said, not needing to look too close. “I’d wager the son,” 
“Ok, but either way, why would they be making weapons out here if they were plant people?” I asked. “I haven’t seen anything to suggest a weapon is even being made here.” 
“There’s someone coming, hide,” Jean said suddenly. Everyone moved without questioning her. 
Ororo pulled Rouge under the desk I’d been searching, the vines hanging down enough to shield them. Jean and Scott moved to slide into the nearest-to-them conference room, barely squeezing in amongst the plant life there.
I looked around, panic in my chest as I realized I didn’t have anywhere to go. The conference room to my direct left had vines pushing their way out the door. The desk was already hiding two people. I couldn’t help but freeze as I realized there was nowhere for me to hide and I was too big to just slide in somewhere. I’d get caught and blow the whole mission.
Logan caught my eye and came running towards me, which honestly, didn’t help my panic. I opened my mouth to tell him to hide himself, but he was faster than me, covering my mouth with his hand. His other arm came around my middle, holding me flush with his chest, effectively stilling us both and preventing me from making any noise.
I tried to wiggle away from him, confused as to how us standing still was going to prevent us getting caught. Logan just shushed me, and held me tighter as he listened for the threat I was sure he’d be able to hear even though I couldn’t.
Heat bloomed in my cheeks at the nearness of him. He smelled like leather and his last cigar and whatever it was he put in his hair. I heard him sniffing, trying to figure out where exactly the threat was, and probably what it was.
“Come on,” Logan’s voice was low and directly against the shell of my ear and it made me shiver. He took my hand and pulled me with him, back the way we’d come, but only into the previous section hallway so that we could hide behind the open fire doors. One side was off its hinges, leaning heavily against the wall, the other side was only partly open, making a nook between the metal and the wall behind it.
Logan pushed me into the space first so that he was on the outside should anyone or anything come for us. Always the ‘walk on the road side of the sidewalk’ type.
“I could just freeze them maybe,” I offered in a hoarse whisper.
“We don’t know who they are or what they can do,” Logan’s whisper was harsher than mine. “Best let me handle it,” 
Normally, I would have sassed him, but my heart was in my throat as if this was the worst possible game of hide-and-seek. Which, it kind of was.
There was a loud banging and the sound of someone cursing at themselves. I could almost make out their muttering as they made their way down the hall to where the others were hiding. I couldn’t see much through the opening at the hinges, but I could see the edge of the room filled with vines and make out the corner of the desk.
“Hmm, didn’t think you’d make so many leaves down here… brave girl,” A male voice praised one of the vines. I could just barely make out the reflection of his back on the glass window of one of the nearer conference rooms. He wore a white lab coat that was clearly dirty at the bottom like some mad scientist. Working with plants was dirty work, so I guess the look was warranted at least.
The man turned and began walking our way again. I felt Logan’s hand press itself against the soft part of my hip as he reached blindly behind himself to find me. He wanted to know where I was so that if and when this went sideways, he could step in front of me. I knew how he was, always a protector, and me always needing protecting. That was part of why I often stayed in the jet on missions. I didn’t want to get in his, or anyone else’s, way.
I turned to look up at Logan, listening to the mad scientist muttering to himself as he checked another section of vines. I hoped Logan could read my face as I tried to tell him not to worry about me. Logan held my eyes and I gripped onto his arm as the muttering got closer. I watched in fascination as Logan raised his free hand and his claws came out, slowly enough that they hardly made any noise at all. He looked back out the open side of our hiding spot.
I tugged on his sleeve, trying to draw him closer to me, farther from where the door wouldn’t cover him well enough. He cast me a glare that normally would have had me shrinking away from him, but as much as he wanted to protect me, I needed to protect him too. I shook my head at him, begging him to stay put. Begging him with my eyes, please, for once, just stay still.
The muttering suddenly stopped and I held my breath. Just as Logan made to move, I touched the back of my hand to his cheek and he froze, my powers temporarily holding him out of time.
I felt bad for having done it to him as I knew it wasn’t a fun experience. While it did not have any lasting effects physically, the entire time you were frozen, you could not breathe (not that you needed to), you could not move, you could not do anything but perceive the world around you. The longest I’d ever held anyone was just shy of 47 minutes. And I hated that someone had had to experience it for that long just to prove something to Charles, who had requested such a test. 
It had been one of the scientists that Charles had hired on as an intern at the time, a young man who’s name I didn’t remember. I did, however, remember how he told me it was fine, that he could take it. We even did a short session first, just a few minutes. Then he wanted to see just how long I could hold him for. Everyone else involved was so fascinated the whole time, even the scientist who had had to suffer for me to learn about myself. To learn how hard it got to hold someone like that. How I felt them struggle against my teeth.
And the scientists had learned that my powers simply paused the existence of someone, and then when I let them go, they were fine as though no time had passed. Their bodies, perfectly fine.
The mad scientist went on his way down the hall. Muttering about fertilizer and wondering where he’d left his coffee. His lab coat fluttering behind him as he went.
Once I could no longer hear him, I touched Logan’s cheek again and released him from my hold. It was easier to let someone go if I touched them again, but it wasn’t really necessary. My hold would wear out eventually, and Logan was always quicker to flee my hold than most. I figured it was because he struggled more than others.
He took a deep breath, grumbling a bit as he adjusted to having control of his limbs back, and glared at me.
“What the fuck was that for?” He demanded. 
“I didn’t want you to hop out and start clawing people without knowing what’s going on,” I snapped back. “And I could tell you were about a half a second away from doing just that,” 
Logan glared at me some more, but then shook his head, not wanting to admit I was right. 
“Let’s go get the others,” He said, taking my wrist and pulling me back into the hallway. I pulled my arm from him, rubbing the warm spot he left behind. Without the threat of being caught, him touching me at all seemed really uncalled for. Entirely inappropriate.
And something I knew I’d commit to memory for the next time I wondered what human connection felt like on a physical level.
But whatever, he shouldn’t be touching me… but since it was for extenuating circumstances, I supposed I could let it go for now. 
“Thank goodness you two are alright,” Rouge’s accent always got stronger when she was worried. “Did you see where he went?” 
“He was headed for the stairs we took to get down here,” Logan told her. He was hovering near me, and I wondered why I had the feeling he had something he wanted to say to me. But when I looked up at him, question marks in my eyes, he looked away.
He didn’t normally look away from me, and it stung. But now wasn’t really the time to be That Girl about it. If he was going to be mad at me, I could apologize again later and he’d forgive me. He always did.
“Well I say we go thata way,” Scott deadpanned, though he clearly said it like that to get a reaction. He was pointing in the opposite direction of the mad scientist.
“I hate to agree with Cyclops, but,” Logan chimed in.
“He’s right,” Ororo said, brushing a wayward bit of plant matter off Rouge’s back. “And we should hurry to find our information before that man comes back this way,” 
We moved faster now, not stopping until we found what was clearly the only office still being used as such. There were about fifteen different computer monitors stacked up on each other. Some were the big old CRT monitors, flickering dully with lists of data. Most were newer models, LCD screens or what seemed to be old flat screen TVs. Some were bolted to the wall.
Ororo and Rouge went to investigate the computer screens closer, reading the data and trying to figure out what he was doing. Jean joined them after a moment of whispering with Scott. Part of me always felt like she was up to something when she did that, but Logan told me he could always hear what sappy shit they were saying and that I wasn’t missing anything.
I had told Logan once that if he ever saw me get like that about a man he should just kill me. Logan had laughed, and promised me he would.
“Well, looks like we’re dealing with the son,” Logan said. He had gone to dig through a pile of papers and manilla folders. He held out a newspaper and I took it, reading the headline.
“‘Henry Mitchelle, Father of Renowned Botanist Prodigy Malachi Mitchelle, dead at 52. Cause Still a Mystery’.” I said aloud. I skimmed the article. “Sounds like daddy dearest’s greatest accomplishment was having his son. And this says the police should blame Malachi for the death, since Henry had been of solid health until suddenly he, well, wasn’t.” 
“He had heart failure, which had nothing to do with me.” A new voice said from the door that none of us had thought to watch. Everyone turned to him, ready to fight. He held up his hands as if he were surrendering.
“That why you started making weapons?” Logan asked. He was the only one that didn’t look like he was ready to fight, but I knew he was likely to be the first one to get in front of whatever Malachi would surely throw at us.
Malachi scoffed loudly. He was probably 35 or so, his hair needed a brush and probably a good scrub. There were soil smudges on his cheek, his forehead, and on every article of clothing he wore. His hair was mousy brown and his eyes were a terrifyingly bright shade of green.
“You think I make weapons?” Malachi sounded like we had just accused him of trying to water a fake plant. “The reason I’m out here in the middle of nowhere is so that everyone and their uncle will stop asking me to make them weapons. I suppose that’s why you’re here, you all look official.” His tone conveyed his annoyance with the idea of “official” anything. 
“We’re not government,” Scott offered. Malachi stepped into the room and took the newspaper out of my hand. He ignored Scott entirely.
“My dad always told me that I was so gifted, that I could change the world. But he also wanted the money, so he sold me off to whoever wanted my plants for the highest price.”
“I’m sorry he was like that,” I said, empathetic. I knew far too many people, fathers or otherwise, that likely would have done the same. “You deserved better,” 
“I actually had ‘better’ too, my mother.” Malachi’s face softened with the memory of her. “But she passed as well, someone told me once it was careless to have lost both parents,” 
“Are the flowers for your mother?” Ororo’s voice came from behind me. Malachi’s neon eyes turned to her.
“Originally, yes, and she loved them. I call them Feel Good Flowers because they helped the body release happy chemicals,” He smiled so softly at the memory. I wondered how this man could be dangerous. He mostly seemed to be sad, but content enough to keep living.
“I take it dad wasn’t thrilled with your Happy Flowers,” Scott said. He was standing in front of Jean and Rouge, who were both still trying to investigate while we held Malachi’s attention.
“They were deemed ‘inefficient, ineffective, and useless’ so… no, my father wasn’t exactly proud of them. Couldn’t make him money, couldn’t bring back the dead,” 
“Sounds like a jerk,” Scott’s attempt to hold Malachi’s attention was weak, but worked well enough.
“It was a blessing when he died,” Malachi agreed. “Even if they tried to blame me for it,” 
“Nice sob story, bub,” Logan said, obviously bored with this conversation. “So what are you doing out here then?” I felt my gut twist with the way Malachi’s eyes turned to Logan. Logan clearly felt the shift too because he was suddenly a lot less nonchalant about this whole thing.
“Trying to be left alone,” Malachi’s voice grew echoey as he snarled the words. 
“We were told there were weapons being made here, that’s why we’re here…” Ororo tried to cut in. Normally, her voice was soothing and cut the tension. I’d seen her talk down several potentially dangerous mutants before, which was also why she made an incredible vice principal at the school. 
But this time she’d picked an unfortunate choice of words.
Malachi’s eyes were fully glowing suddenly, just like he was a halloween decoration with those stupid LED eyeballs. A loud crash came from behind us and the wall broke in, vines shooting through. 
A flash of Cyclop’s eye bolts cut through most of them. Another crash and this time, the ceiling came down under the weight of thick plant life. There was shouting and I reached forward, trying to grab Malachi. I figured I could freeze him and it would hopefully stop the vines. 
But Logan was closer, and saw my play, so he stepped between us, swinging claws at the scientist’s face.
“Cut the crap, asshole,” Logan snarled as Malachi dodged him. “We were playing nice,” 
“You came in here to disturb me,” Malachi moved away from Logan easily as vines tangled his legs. Logan fell to the ground with a grunt, but was able to slice the vines off in one easy swing. 
“If you’re out here killing people with plants, yeah!” I shouted after him. I was out in the hallway now, both trying to be out of the way, and block Malachi from escaping towards the stairs. Malachi laughed. 
“The only people my plants have killed are the ones who came in here looking for weapons,” His face, which had been so normal before, was now a twisted snarl. “Care to be next?” The skin of his lips, and the waterline around his eyes, both seemed to have darkened to a deep green. His eyes still glowed that eerie LED green that was unsettlingly fake, but only because I knew he wasn’t made of plastic. 
“How about we don’t kill anyone?” I offered. I eyed the vines that were now crawling on the floor towards me. They curled up on themselves when they got cut down the line. I saw Logan move away from the spot the vines ended, chasing after Malachi.
“Y/N, take Storm and Rouge back to the jet, we’ll handle him,” Jean said, pushing Rouge in my direction. 
“What? We can help!” Rouge snapped.
“We can cover that end of the building while Logan deals with Malachi,” Ororo’s soothing voice came out again and Rouge bristled at it. But also, Ororo had a point. Plus, I could work on getting the jet ready to go, and it would keep Rouge, who was still not really an official XMan, out of harm's way.
“I’ll keep the seats warm,” I relented easily enough, even though the roar I heard down the hall made my anxiety spike. Logan was fighting hard, and the building shook every time he took a hit. “Y’all best go get Logan in check before they collapse the whole building,” Another crash and Jean winced, knowing it was just a matter of time before I was right. 
“We’ll go get him,” One could never see Scott’s eyes, but you could sure hear how hard he rolled them whenever Logan was up to his…shenanigans.
I grabbed Rouge’s arm and turned her towards the exit, cutting her off in the middle of arguing with Ororo about how the fight was being broken up.
“Trust me, no one’s going to get to fight much, you aren’t missing anything,” I told her. She brushed me off with a huff. 
“I know, but I hate feeling like I’m being sidelined just because I’m a newbie,” 
“I’ve been doing this for ages, and I get sidelined more often than not,” I said, a poor attempt to sooth her ruffled feathers. “There are worse things than being needed elsewhere,” 
Rouge groaned because she knew I was right.
We made pretty good time getting back to the first floor. As soon as we saw natural light again, we all sort of sighed in relief. I think we were all a bit nervous about getting buried alive and didn’t want to admit it. 
The floor behind us shook as vines shot up through it, a wave in the ocean of speckled beige. When they receded Logan’s body was lying face up and groaning on the old tiles.
“You know what? Fuck this guy,” Logan muttered as he hauled himself to his feet. A blast from Scott cut through the same hole Logan had just popped out of. “Watch it Summers!” 
“Come on,” Ororo grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the fighting again. Logan looked up and our eyes met for a brief second. I knew he’d be ok, but I hated how many hits he always seemed to have to take first. As I turned to look where I was going, I swear I saw him wink at me.
Even in the middle of a fight he found time to tease me. He really was a bully at the worst times. I told myself I didn’t care if it made my chest warm to see him so at ease in a fight.
Plus, I sometimes wondered if he liked getting hit.
“Can’t go that way!” Rouge’s voice cut into my thoughts as a mass of vines covered the front entrance.
“I thought he wanted us to leave?” I groaned. The vines tangled into each other and seemed to solidify into a new wall. “You got anything Miss Storm?” I asked. She thought for a moment.
“I can’t do anything inside the building with all the windows blocked.” Ororo lamented.
“Logan!” Rouge’s voice shouted behind us. “We can’t get out!” 
“He’s a little busy,” I rolled my eyes looking for something to help us. There were some more old chairs, but that didn’t really seem useful at the moment.
“Never too busy for you,” Logan’s voice at my shoulder made me jump. He’d come running when Rouge shouted but it always surprised me how fast he was when he wanted to be.
“Think you can open the doors for us?” I asked him, pretending he wasn’t smiling at me. Pretending he didn’t look amazing fresh from getting shoved through who knows how many walls (and also the floor) of the main office.
“One weed wacker, coming up,” Logan unsheathed his claws with a smirk and I rolled my eyes at his joke wondering how long he’d been working on that one.
Logan chopped through one layer of vines, just for it to be replaced by another. He growled and went after it with both hands, but still, each vine he cut was replaced by another. 
The floor shook and jostled me into the useless metal chair pile that occupied the space behind me. The noise was far more obnoxious than the pain it caused me. Rouge cursed as she also lost her footing and landed against the vine wall. Luckily, the vines didn’t seem to care since she wasn’t trying to prune them.
“You good, sweetheart?” Logan called over his shoulder, still slicing at the wall.
“I’m fine,” I snapped, pulling myself back to my feet. It was hard to stand up again because the chairs shifted and I couldn’t get a good spot to push myself up from. Plus, if I were honest, I had landed on something pokey that jabbed me in the ribs hard enough to make breathing hard for a second, but no one needed to know that. They’d just worry about me and we didn’t have the time for that.
“Hurry!” Ororo shouted at Logan.
“You wanna try it?” Logan snapped back angrily. Ororo rolled her eyes at him.
“Umm, guys?” I swallowed hard as I watched a mass of plants swell up through the hole in the office floor. “That doesn’t look good,” 
“Where are Jean and Scott?” Rouge asked.
“Want your friends back?” The voice sounded like three or four of Malachi all speaking at once. I felt my stomach drop. Wherever his mutations were made him look like a monster now. All glowing bits and the wrong colors. “Have them back!” 
Suddenly another couple of vines burst through the floor and flung two bodies at us. They both slid to a stop in front of me and Ororo. 
“Scott! Jean!” Ororo cried out. They both got to their feet and dusted themselves off.
“Hey guys, the elevator here sucks,” Scott coughed. Jean smacked his arm. “What?” 
“We need to get out of here,” Jean told him as though that wasn’t already obvious. 
“Trying to, but this wall is really persistent,” Logan grumbled.
“The vines are trying to protect him,” Jean said. “Which means they’ll only let him through,” 
“And that helps us… how exactly?” I demanded, watching as Malachi and his vines moved closer. If he moved slowly to toy with us or to give us time to realize how futile fleeing turned out to be, I didn’t know. I was more confused as to how things had gone so far south so fast. Malachi had seemed reasonable enough…right until he started glowing.
“Like this,” Jean held up her hands and Malachi’s advance froze. “Logan?” Jean asked in the same tone of voice she’d use for the most mundane requests.
“Yeah?” He sounded skeptical of this whole situation. 
“Go stand by the girls please,” Jean nodded towards Ororo, Rouge, and I. Logan raised an eyebrow but took the three steps he needed to clear the doorway. Jean turned and thrust her arms out.
With a multilayered scream, Malachi and his chunk of vines blasted their way through the blockaded door. 
I peered through the opening long enough to assess that Malachi was down for at least a few moments, and before anyone else said anything, I moved to push Ororo and Rouge, the closest two to me still, out the door.
“Time to go!” I shouted. The others all agreed and the six of us bolted out into the afternoon sun, back out into the impossible field of flowers. 
We could hear Malachai groaning as we hurried past. Maybe we should have checked on him, or arrested him, or something? But we were all too ready to be back on the jet. We could come back for him another day, much more prepared for him.
“Why do I always park so far away?” I complained as we moved through the field. Everyone else was what felt like miles ahead of me and I could distinctly hear Malachi and his vines moving behind us. I risked looking over my shoulder and almost instantly tripped over my feet and crash landed into an entire bush of flowers. 
I heard the stems break under my body and something in me lamented that I’d killed such a beautiful plant. But then I noticed why I had actually tripped. The vines were under the ground now, wiggling their way between the plants so as to not disturb them.
“Y/N!” Someone shouted my name and it felt so far away. The flowers that lay crushed on the ground beneath me looked like white chrysanthemums, each flowerhead the size of my fist, only they had red stamin sticking out of them. They were so beautiful, but also alien to me.
“Just go!” I shouted back, getting to my feet. “The vines are underground!” I added. I noticed then that the mound of vines that had held Malachi had disappeared. 
And there Malachi stood where we’d left him, still as a statue, as a breeze rushed through. The wind kicked up dust from around what might have been a million different flowers. I felt the fine powder get whipped against my face and closed my eyes against what felt like the tiniest grains of sand. I coughed, knowing it was surely in my lungs too. 
When I opened my eyes and looked at Malachi standing there in the distance, he was tousled and dirty, but also looked almost exactly the same as when we first saw him. He didn’t move to follow or attack us anymore.
And his eyes were no longer glowing as he stared blankly after us.
I caught up with the others just as they got the jet’s door open. It always took such a terribly long time to let the ramp down when we closed it, which was why we usually left it open for a quicker getaway. But since no one was sitting with our only ride home, we decided to be more careful and close it for once.
“Move, move, move,” Logan’s voice was loud as he ushered everyone on board. I noticed that the front of his uniform had the same fine dust that had pelted me in the face after I’d tripped. I probably wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for the fact that Jean had left a barely there handprint in the powder on his chest when she touched him as she climbed on board the ship.
It always annoyed me when she did that to him. Jean had literally married Scott less than six months ago and yet she still touched Logan like they were maybe more than friends. Not that it was any of my business, but leave the poor man alone.
Nevermind the green thing in me that wished I was allowed to touch his chest like that.
Scott was flipping switches to turn on the jet as I crested the ramp. I counted that we had everyone on board and hit the button to close up the hatch again.
“Well, that wasn’t great,” I complained, moving to the captain’s chair and shooing Scott from the controls. When I sat down I noticed that my chest felt funny, like I’d been holding my breath too long. And I was really warm, like maybe I was getting a fever.
“Scott?” Jean’s voice was worried and of course, her husband came running to her. I tried to tune them out while I finished the sequences to get us fully airborne. 
“Something’s off, something doesn’t feel right,” Jean was almost babbling. I had to focus on getting us safely into the clouds, so I didn’t notice the change things took until I heard Logan swear.
“What the fuck you two?” His anger made me turn in time to see Jean straddling Scott’s lap while she kissed him. Clearly with tongue. 
“I… I need you,” Jean stammered into Scott’s throat. Scott seemed to be under the influence of whatever nonsense had its hold on her too, as he was not trying to stop her from kissing him, nor from grinding down on his lap. When she moved up, his suit was clearly struggling to contain whatever it was he kept in his pants. 
“Guys!” I snapped.
“Can’t…stop,” Scott panted. “Need you,” The second part was directed at Jean. I scoffed out loud and turned back to the controls because I really needed to get us to the altitude to use the autopilot. It took all of two minutes max, but with the idea of what was happening behind me fresh and spiky in my mind, it made it feel like a hell of a lot longer.
And my head was feeling strange, like maybe I was getting a migraine or something.
I could hear a scuffle and some moaning as Logan tried to break apart the lovebirds. 
“Don’t make me shoot you,” Scott’s voice was low and a kind of menacing that I didn’t know he was capable of. 
“You wouldn’t risk bringing this entire jet down just to get your rocks off,” Logan was clearly struggling with someone else while he snapped at Scott. 
“MMm,” Jean’s voice moaned. “Logan,” I stood then and punched the button for auto pilot with my entire fist.
“What the actual fuck is going on back there?” I demanded turning to face them. Jean was trying to rub herself on Logan, begging for any sort of friction while he did his best to keep her at arms length. I felt a sharp hit of anger and jealousy ricochet around my ribs. It was stronger than any such similar feelings I’d had before and I was confused as to why I suddenly wanted to grab Logan and pull him behind me.
Or under me.
Shaking that thought from my head, I tried to ignore the heat on my face.
“Need Scott,” Jean said, sounding like she’d forgotten what syllables were. “Or Logan,” she purred his name in a way that made me want to jump out the window. Logan shoved her back at Scott, who happily caught her.
“Both of you knock it off,” Logan reprimanded them as though they were children. But when he turned to look at me, it was obvious that part of the reason he’d shoved Jean off was because whatever it was that had affected them was doing something to him too. “Fuck,” The curse was quieter and more to himself as he shivered.
“Is it actually getting really hot in here?” Rouge’s voice was shaky as she asked. 
“I think we were drugged,” Ororo managed. She had a light sheen of sweat forming along her brow as she watched Scott and Jean making out like teenagers. Her eyes were stuck to them as though looking away would be a crime.
“How? When?” Logan snapped. He looked a bit twitchy, standing too close to the lovebirds. “You two need to fucking stop,” Irritated both for good reason, and for the uncomfortable pressure that was forming in his chest.
“Storm?” Rouge questioned as Ororo put her hand on her thigh, far higher up than was normal for either of them.
“Marie, since when do you smell so nice?” 
“Ok, I am not dealing with this,” I said, feeling a weird mix of fear, anxiety, and heat blooming in my chest. “Everyone, it’s nap time,” I decided all at once. I had no idea if I could hold more than one person at a time, but if ever there was a need to…
“You taste sweeter than sugar, honey,” I felt the blood rush to my ears and to my stomach as I registered the Ororo and Rouge had just kissed. I had to physically push Logan out of my way so I could make a direct path to the original problem… Jean and Scott, who were about three seconds from peeling off their suits.
I grabbed each of them by the back of their neck, as if scruffing a misbehaving pair of puppies, and pulled them apart. They both looked up at me in shock for a moment before falling back together, limp and frozen in time.
“Secure them in their seats please,” I commanded Logan as I made my way over to Ororo and Rouge. Logan finally moved to do as I asked and I wondered if he was feeling the same wobbly feeling I was as I stopped in front of the next pair of us.
“Yes ma’am,” Logan purred and I ignored that wave of want that his graveled voice pulled through me.
Ororo and Rouge at least appeared to be trying not to cause a scene, but they were eyefucking quite openly. And their hands were wandering.
“It hurts in my chest,” Ororo told me as I pulled her hand off Rouge’s thigh. Rouge whimpered at the loss, but had steeled herself for at least the moment. “Like I need to touch her or I’ll die,” she sounded so scared. I broke my heart because I didn’t know what was going on and so I couldn’t help her. Or my other friends.
“We’ll get you home and Hank will know what to do,” I assured her. The best I could think of.
She buckled herself into her seat as Rouge reached for her arm, begging for contact again. I pressed my fingers against Ororo’s cheek and her eyes went hazy and she went limp, her seatbelts holding her upright.
I had never figured out why some people froze more solidly than others. Logan always seemed to keep his feet when frozen, but almost everyone else turned into noodles. I turned to Rouge who was looking at Ororo with a sort of pained look that I couldn’t place. It was somewhere near lust, of course, but there was something that spoke of fear in it too. I wondered if either of them had lusted for a woman before.
“I promise, I’ll release y’all as soon as I can, so please don’t fight me,” I told her. I wasn’t particularly southern, but y’all was something I’d picked up from someone and never managed to put back down. I touched her face carefully and she laid back in her seat, her hand still resting on Ororo’s arm.
“How are you so calm?” Logan demanded through clenched teeth. I could feel my heart beating at a higher rate than normal, but if Logan thought I was calm, he didn’t realize that. Which was good, he didn’t need to worry about me.
Also alarming because usually he could tell when someone’s heart was racing (and he’d teased me about it more than once).
“I was hoping you weren’t being affected,” I groaned. My head felt full of cotton, like everything was in a soft focus and there was tea waiting for me when I sat down, that kind of feeling. 
“All I can smell is them,” He growled, taking a step towards me.
“Sit down and buckle up,” I told him, my voice a bit shaky. There was a terrible ache between my thighs, like someone had scooped out my insides and were about to carve me like a pumpkin.
Logan stepped closer and for a second I thought he was going to listen. If I had them all held, maybe it would be easier. Maybe I could focus on holding them still instead of the fact I really wanted to know if Logan’s tongue tasted like cigars or not.
I bet it did.
“I want to smell you,” Logan’s pupils were blown beautifully wide. “And only you,” he was staring down at me like I was the only thing in the entire universe. I wished it was true, that he felt that way about me. But I knew it was whatever we’d been covered with. I knew it wasn’t real.
“Sit down,” My voice was weaker than I wanted it to be.
“Why can’t I smell you?” He was almost just talking to himself, annoyed that he could smell everyone else’s arousal over mine.
I walked backwards towards the captain’s and copilot's chair, pleased that Logan followed. But I wasn’t quick enough and he managed to get his hands on my hips. I brought my hands up between us, pushing him away.
But he was always so much stronger than me, so I struggled to get any space between us. Besides, as soon as he was in my space, something in me really wanted to drown in him instead. Consequences be damned.
“If I drop you here, I can’t lift your heavy… heavy ass off the floor,” I panted as he leaned down to inhale deeply at my throat. I surprised myself at the whimper that left me when he placed the first open mouth kiss at the only skin exposed on my neck over my suit.
“Fuck,” He moaned so low in his chest I could feel it vibrate in mine. “Let me just… just touch you for a second,” 
“Logan, it’s not real,” I told him. It didn’t ease the ache in my gut but it helped keep my mind clear. Plus there were four different strings already pulling my brain tight. I was wildly, uncomfortably aroused, but I wasn’t about to lose control just because the man I had a crush on was kissing my neck.
When did he unzip the top of my suit to get to more skin?
“Please,” He moaned against my throat again. “Just one kiss, then I’ll behave, promise.” 
“I don’t believe you,” I murmured, trying desperately to push him away. But it felt so nice to have him like this. It was something I’d thought about far more times than I’d ever admit to anyone. And my hand was in his hair.
But it wasn’t real, he didn’t really want me. 
Why would he? 
“Y/N,” Logan groaned as his hands moved to find my chest. I gasped at the sensation of his warm hand covering one of my breasts. I wanted so badly to surrender to the feeling, to let him touch and feel and devour me whole.
But I knew it wasn’t real, and that hurt differently enough that I finally got my last two working brain cells together to push him off.
“Fuck, Logan, sit your punkass down,” I snapped, feeling tears in my throat. It would be so much easier to give in. To at least feel something good for once. To finally figure out what it would feel like to be with him.
But it wasn’t real, wasn’t real, wasn’t real… and I knew I would hate myself when it was over if I gave in now.
Logan gave me a sassy smirk, watching me breathing hard as a reaction to him and what he’d done. 
“Don’t you feel it too?” 
“I don’t feel anything,” I lied. The snap of my words seemed to surprise him, but only deterred him long enough for me to sit myself in the Captain’s chair and buckle in. “Now, don’t touch me,” I commanded him. I knew if he touched me too much I’d give in. That at some point, the effects would overwhelm me too. Best to keep him away.
“No,” He growled. “Wanna smell you, wanna touch you, wanna fuck you,” His eyes were so hazy and it made my center pulse with need and that empty, endless ache. But the endless ache was an old friend, I’d sat with her before. I could sit with her now too.
“I need to call the mansion,” I told him. 
Maybe ignoring him would help keep him at bay. I knew it wouldn’t. Even without the nonsense going on, he’d never been a particularly good listener unless he wanted to be. 
And he sure didn’t want to be right now. 
“Don’t interrupt or I’ll not let you smell me ever again,” I told him. This seemed to work better as he sat cross legged next to me on the floor, perked up like a dog waiting for a bone after having done a trick. I felt a wave of lust wash over me at his eagerness to please me. My core ached, knowing he’d gladly lap me up for his reward.
“Did you find it?” Charle’s voice over the radio should have been a relief but it made me angry because it wasn’t the right voice. But I bit back my annoyance and tried to respond coherently.
“We’re flying back.” My voice was choppy as I took too many breaths. “I have everyone but Logan frozen, we…we were dosed with something,” 
“Y/N,” Logan grumbled impatiently.
“What’s happening?” 
“Umm…” I suddenly was too embarrassed to say what was going on. 
“Y/N? Is everyone alright?” The alarm in Charles’ voice snapped my brain cells together with enough force I was able to manage one sentence.
“They’re trying to fuck each other,”
“Oh.” The embarrassment would have killed me had Logan not gotten impatient and started sniffing along my leg, pressing open mouth kisses along the seams of my pants. I swatted at him, trying to get him to knock it off. He just smirked and kept pressing, glad to at least have my hand in his hair.
“I have them frozen, but Logan…” My voice got caught in my throat as Logan moved to bury his face in my hip, nuzzling and smelling his way up my ribs until his face was in my armpit. “Jesus fuck, knock it off,” I whined like a kid who was late for nap time. All upset and no anger. I felt tears in my eyes and in my throat because this was all simply Too Much. 
“Are you safe to get everyone home?” Charles redirected. I grabbed Logan’s face and glowered at him.
“Take a nap,” I told him and tried to snag him in my powers. It worked but he was frozen with an arm across my lap and his face trying to find a way into my suit. “Sorry, I had to freeze Logan too, but he’s harder to hold onto.” I tried to keep my words even. But I could feel all five of them now, like trying to hold onto the strings of too many balloons but only with my teeth. 
“Y/N, can you fly everyone home?” 
“Yeah, I think so. Best prepare them for us, tell Hank it was Malachi Mitchelle, maybe that’ll help.” Logan’s string slipped in my mental grip and he growled as he pulled himself free.
“Gotta go,” Logan said loud enough for Charles to hear as he sat up on his knees to turn off the radio connection. “Now, you,” His eyes were hungry and his gaze made my insides twist with want.
“Logan, please just stop,” I begged. I was specifically trying not to feel anything for him, to not let him do something he’d regret later. I knew he didn’t want this. At the moment, I’m not sure any of us really did.
“No,” He challenged me. Logan’s hands traced my body, one moved around to the inside of my thigh and inched its way closer to my center. He held my eyes, daring me to tell him I didn’t want this.
But this wasn’t about what I wanted.
“It’s not real, you don’t want this,” I felt those tears again, warm in my throat and stinging behind my eyes. He looked up at me and brushed the tears from one of my cheeks with his thumb.
“No, I do want this… I���m always gonna… never going to stop,” He was breathing heavily but smirking. My center pulsed and squeezed around nothing because dammit all if that wasn’t exactly what I wanted to hear.
Logan’s smirk got lost when he buried his face into the crease made by my leg and hip. He breathed in the scent of me again and the moan that escaped him had my heart ricocheting in my chest. 
“Never going to get enough of the smell of you.” I found my hands in his hair, fingers intertwined in his tuffs as if I had the strength to pull him away from my lap.
“Why?” I asked more as a general question, ‘why is this happening to me?’ or ‘why do I bother trying to be good?’ or maybe even a bit of ‘why would you say that to me?’
“Cuz I love you,” Logan murmured against my stomach. I looked down at him, that ache in my pelvis shimming at the closeness of him. But the ache in my chest? That longing for something real? It burned brighter. I knew he wasn’t trying to tease me this time and somehow that made it worse. 
While influenced he probably thought he was telling the truth.
I couldn’t take it when I knew the fall would come when this madness passed. The look in his eyes when he realized ‘oh god, what have I done?’.
I felt tears in my throat again. I wished what he said was true, that his ardent behavior was stemming from somewhere real and true. But it wasn’t.
It simply wasn’t.
I grabbed his face in one hand, the other still in his hair, and squeezed his cheeks together while he looked at me like he never wanted to look at anything else.
“Go the fuck to sleep, you petulant child,” I ground out, all the anger in me aimed at myself and the fact that I had to deny myself this wonderful thing. This thing my body craved.
This time, Logan’s eyes went hazy and blank, his jaw went slack, and his limbs all buckled under him. I finally had him wound tight enough to hold. 
But now I had to hold him, and the other four, for the next 43 and half minutes. Which was the expected time remaining, according to the flight data that flashed on one of the panels. I had no idea if I could hold on to everyone that long, especially Logan who was too good at shaking off my powers.
[Masterlist]
[Logan Masterlist]
[Part Two!]
Likes/comments/reblogs directly correlate to how much fanfiction/fanart you see ;)
336 notes ¡ View notes
girlystories ¡ 1 year ago
Text
Being the Bowers gang girl
*ೃ::Both platonic & romantic headcanon
– pairings: various x reader
addition warnings: swearing, bullying, very few depictions of sexism, few derogatory names, toxicity, abusive parenting.
words: 2.6k
this was entirely inspired by z0mbiekittyy, so please check them out!
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Meeting/joining the gang
you were at first the quiet, loner girl who kept to herself, only having a few acquaintances, with very few friends.
it wasn't because you were a loser. only the opposite. everyone wanted to become friends with you or get to know you in some way but you never let anyone get close.
everyone had heard of you of course. when they realized you were different they stopped trying to read you or make their mind about you.
that was until greta keene couldn't get enough. she hated the attention you got. so one day she started spreading rumors about you.
it was relatively easy, since no one knew you enough to disprove them in any way. one word went to another and everyone in town now started talking shit about you.
despite that, you didn't care. you had your mind somewhere else. popularity and school drama weren't your thing.
you didn't mind hearing the remarks spat at you when you wandered the halls or when you were in class. you were completely and utterly unbothered.
word got fast that it even reached the all too feared bowers gang.
you were making your way to biology class when you were shoved against a locker, all your books falling one by one on the floor.
"well well well, if it isn't derry's most favored whore", henry was the first to indulge in the act.
he was followed by vic, or – as he liked to refer to him as his 'right-man', "hey, hank. why haven't we ever tried to mess with her before?"
you tried to back up slowly, but your back hit against another frame. when you looked up your eyes met with a pair of green ones, followed by an unsettling smile.
it seemed like no one noticed what was happening – or in better words, no one gave a shit about what was happening.
"dont worry, [name], we're not gonna kill you, jeez," belch revealed.
that made henry groan and turn his head towards his friend. "shut up."
patrick, still behind you, held onto your shoulders, which was very easy due to his height. "or we will, you will find out soon."
"both of you shut up," henry silenced them before it could escalate to something else. "so, how about you come with us for a ride? ya'know, get some air n' stuff."
"you mean like skipping school?", you asked.
"why? are you scared? I'm sure your reputation is as shitty as it can get. can't get any worse than that. even ours is better."
you shrugged, and just decided to follow them. just as you sat at your seat – between vic and patrick, you couldn't make out the read ahead of you, as they were driving recklessly. where you were, you hadn't the slightest clue.
they were laughing and howling, sometimes shouting at the drives passing by.
you? well, you were scared shitless. you clung onto your seat belt, and holding back the urge to start shrieking.
after a while you got used to it and had to admit deep down it was kinda fun.
when you stopped, you realized you were at a junkyard. they prepared a fire when the sun began to set down and opened some bottles of beer.
as you all circled around the fire you began to talk about whatever. you also found yourself to... tolerate them. or, better yet, even enjoy their company.
before you knew it, little by little you hang more and more with them, slowly becoming one of them. it was the first time you were a part of something. they felt like home and you could trust them, despite the hardships and more extreme emotional outbursts.
your reputation got even worse but you didn't care. you had found your people.
Activities
other than hanging out in the junkyard, you guys do other stuff (of course).
it's like you all live together, while you also don't. frequent sleepovers, meet-ups on each other houses take place, ect.
vic once convinced you all to go camping a few towns away. despite being the one who recommended the idea, he ended up despicing it. on the other hand, patrick who hated the idea ended up having the most fun. scaring vic by hiding bugs in his tent and pretending he was hearing bears or wolves. belch had enough and kept demanding they'd stop fighting, while you kept laughing at vic's reactions everytime. you never went camping again.
every morning belch picks everyone in order, first henry, then patrick, then you, and lastly – the sleeping queen himself: vic.
then, you make a stop at the local diner, everyone choosing their own specific order that the waitress had already memorized.
unless vic had a hangover from the party the day before, he wouldn't stop complaining about who-knows-what.
sometimes, when you were really bored, you'd go out of town in search of abandoned places, owning them for a while until someone else found them and ruined them almost immediately.
it was expected and common sense you'd show up at ever party. then you all would split for a while but meet up in order to leave. belch was in priority not to drink or get high until anyone else got a license. that's what you all agreed on but that possiblility seemed unlikely.
at school you avoided bullying anyone, but giving up on trying to stop them from terrosizing another kid since it was the only thing they ignored you on. the only time you fought back was to defend yourself. not that you needed to, but because you wanted them to know that you weren't as incompetent as you seemed.
when you had the change you'd shoot empty beer bottles with henry's dad's gun.
Henry Bowers
you and henry would share your deep wounds together. him about his alcoholic and insane old man, and you about your hard time fitting in, both in family and friends.
you would joke around, but to an extent. if you said the wrong thing he'd refuse to speak to you for days, weeks or maybe even months – depending how much it affected him. if he was too stubborn, vic would have to somehow find a way to talk him out of his bitchy attitude.
despite him trying to seem hard-shelled, deep down he was very sensitive. he knew you knew that, and he hated it. it was the only thing he hated about you except the fact that tend to be pushy sometimes.
he had never cried in front the guys, but one day he couldn't hold back when he was only with you. it happened only once, but he still feels humiliated about it and hopes you'd never bring it up. he made you swore to never tell anyone.
butch seemed to like you for a reason, only approving of you from the gang. he hated the rest. when you find yourself at their house, he'd warmly greet you.
at first he and patrick made a lot of sexist joke about you. later when he noticed you went silent you, he started using them less, only saying them once or twice.
always offers you cigarettes, and makes sure to buy your favorites.
sometimes (when he's not in a shitty mood) he pays for your food when you go at the diner without saying a word or giving you the chance to convince him otherwise.
all good things considered, let's be honest here cuz we all know he has more negative that good qualities.
for example; gets jealous super easily and gets mad at you for it, making you apologize for something that isn't your fault.
NEVER admits he's wrong. ever.
when you have a different opinion he tells you to shut up or straight up threatens you.
needs a lot of attention, while also can't have on his tail all the time, making him indecisive and confusing.
sometimes doesn't realize you need help and leaves you deal with your problems alone while you clearly do need some sort of hand.
still, you always have a way to be together again, unable to keep any distance between you both. on weekends you usually take the bus to his house, helping him with the choses around the farm.
Vic Criss
you and vic already knew each other from middle school. you were in the same class and he used to help you with homework.
then, when kids started growing up through that phase everybody did about that sort of rivalry against girls and boys. because of that, your 'friendship' fell apart.
you weren't really friends back then but you could've been.
he never admitted it but he always stared at you from away, wishing you would somehow start talking to each other again.
he was the one who convinced henry to approach you that day. the idea popped into his mind just as those rumors started going around.
he was glad henry agreed. even though he always did, he was anxious of saying no. later, he lied to you, saying it was henry's idea instead and that first interaction you had with him was henry's way of being kind (despite calling you a 'whore').
you and vic were close, in a different way you were with the others. he understood you better and he was very good at telling advice. he was also fun gossiping with. definitely the best when having a sleepover. the others found him annoying or bitchy about it, but with you he was himself.
he also was kinda subtle about his true personality, not showing his true small but intresting quirks only you knew.
speaking of gossiping, almost every weekend he crashed at your place, the excuse being his siblings giving him a headache, while his mom being 'a pain in the ass'.
everytime he had a problem with the others you would be the first to know. he was still henry's 'right-man', but sometimes henry was, well... henry.
at parties he'd get wasted and you'd be 100% sure he'd be found in the bathroom pucking his guts out.
you guys are so close he would be showering while you were doing your business at the toilet, gossiping about everything single detail.
still sometimes helps you with school after some persuation, but keeps reminding you that 'he is not your tutor'.
loves braiding your hair when you're hanging out, especially during class when it's something super boring (even for him).
Patrick Hockstetter
you were honestly pretty scared of patrick at first, and most definitely the only one from the gang who gave you the creepes.
the alligations weren't few, to say the least, and at first you kept your distance from him.
he also didn't try to make a move on you, which you found stange, yet grateful. maybe henry threatened him or something. either way you were considerably on good terms with patrick.
one day at school, while you were waiting for the other three to come at your usual spot during break, he offered you a cigarette. you received it with gratitude, since it was rare for an offer coming from patrick. he even stricked up a conversation, which was... maybe a bit thought provoking.
then he smirked – that one charismatic he wore when you would stop being able to read his mind. he was like a puzzle, but most pieces were missing or switched with incorrect ones. "are the rumors true?", he asked, closing his zippo with a 'click' after he light your cigarette.
"i dont think that you care if they're true or not," you answered back, the tobacco filling your lungs with nicotine.
clouds of smoke escaped his nostrils with each chuckle. "maybe."
on your ride home Black Sun Morning by Screaming Trees was playing from the radio and you found yourself singing alongside patrick. he rose his brows, "you know 'em?"
"duh, of course."
the next day on the ride to school, instead of gossiping with vic you ended up having a deep conversation with patrick about music. you never imagined that you'd be having a conversation about art with him of all people.
since then, you hit it off well. he stopped using sexist comments as well, and even attempted physical contact at the diner, brushing his fingers against your hair. when he realized you let him or try to stop him, he smiled to himself.
in the end you were usually seen together, you sitting on his lap during breaks or at the gym stands, in the car or diner. he would wrap his arms around your waist and rest his head on your shoulder. it was making the others sick.
sometimes you attempted to help him with homework, but he only agreed so you could just hangout. he wasn't really interested in attending college. the thing he was good at was certainly playing the guitar. both bass and lead guitar. vic jokes about him making a band but it something told you he didn't view it as a light joke.
one day he invited you to his house to show you his vinyls and discs. that's when you met his mother and was pretty surprised to find out she was vietnamese. he made sure to never speak vietnamese around you or the others.
when meeting you he became less... interested at the fridge at the junkyard, viewing it less and less. maybe therapy was starting to work out? even for a tiny bit.
extremely protective of you, especially at parties. makes sure to keep an eye out even though you wouldn't know it.
Belch Huggins
belch was the most chill and the most independent one of the gang. aways making sure everything was in check and going smoothly. it was no surprise he was super welcome to you and tried to make you at ease the first few weeks, asking you if you were okay or needed a ride home.
is a gentleman, of course. doesn't tolerance any disrespect towards you, no matter how small it may seem to you.
offeres to pay for you when going out, no matter how many times you don't let him.
one time you both got so drunk you couldn't stop laughing; your bellys hurting and your eyes filled with tears while your faces were bright red. it made henry mad (as usual) but it's a memory you'd never forget. you had no way to get back home, though.
on fridays you watch him play basketball, sitting at the stands, and smoking and encouraging him. sometimes vic or patrick came too, but it was very rarely.
he offers you the ball but you immediately decline, being reminded of the day the ball hit you in the face after you missed your shot.
you requested him to teach you how to drive, which was a bad idea honestly. at first you didn't understand his instructions at all, but when he asked you if you had any questions you lied saying 'no'. after that instead of stepping on going forward you accidentally went backwards, almost crashing his beloved trams-am that he named 'daisy'. then you turned the wheel too far, almost falling at a ditch before he saved you two.
swore that you'd never get a license in your life and forbid you anywhere near the wheel, not even the passengers seat.
his dad owes a workshop, fixing cars. he helped too, supporting him in any way he could. you also helped him here and there while he taught you the basics and answered any questions you had.
he promised that he'd let you fix a car entirely on your own without his help. he said he'd also let you keep it for free.
you have a drawer contained only of belch's clothes. at first you'd ask him to try his sweatshirts on. then you'd complain you were cold and he'd sigh, saying you could give it back another day. but you never did.
you loved it when he gave you biggyback rides. his, especially. he could never refuse, despise how tired he was.
Tumblr media
2K notes ¡ View notes
brotherly-lov3 ¡ 18 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
My thoughts on how each of the D twins comforts the kids
Donald would allow them to let everything out while gently stroking them and would keep holding them close the whole time
Della would give them reassuring promises and distract them by playing with them and telling them what she thinks are funny stories
303 notes ¡ View notes
loganhowlettshousewife ¡ 1 month ago
Text
we all love reading and writing smut fics about logan (and i get it, so do i) but what if i said the intimacy is what he actually craves. what if i said what he actually wants is love and acceptance, someone who knows how to deal with his moods and doesn't get annoyed at him over it. someone who knows that he is a broken man, and they don't try to fix him, they just accept him anyway. someone who is willing to give him a home and a family because he deserves it, it doesn't matter what he's done in his past or the mistakes he's made. someone who deals with the nightmares and stays up with him when he's scared to fall back asleep. someone he can come home to everyday, a constant in the chaos that is his life, someone he knows won't leave him the way so many others have. someone who lets him be who (and what) he is, doesn't judge him for his more animalistic side. someone who takes care of him in other ways than sex: cooking food for when he gets home, helping him shower and cleaning the blood from him when he comes back from a fight, listening to his problems without trying to offer solutions, kissing the sharp blades of his claws because they might be dangerous but they're still a part of him and therefore deserve love all the same. just non-sexual intimacy with logan…
332 notes ¡ View notes
eddiekaspbrakirlsblog ¡ 8 months ago
Text
when I remember in IT chapter two that reddie were gonna leave TOGETHER I go insane like that whole scene where Richie’s like “Eduardo andele let’s go!” And when Eddie’s like “I just have to grab my toiletry bag and then we can go” WE CAN GO ???? WE ? AS IN TWO ? AS IN US TOGETHER ?????
807 notes ¡ View notes
brynnterpretations ¡ 4 months ago
Text
Would you all be interested if I opened up headcanon and ship requests for the Losers Club as well?
7 notes ¡ View notes
shybluebirdninja ¡ 1 month ago
Text
Primal Mark
Summary: Logan jerks himself into your panties and you must keep his cum there.
Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader
Note                : cum in panties, masturbation, watching porn together
Tumblr media
The dimly lit room was alive with the flickering light of the screen, casting playful shadows as Logan and you settled in for a night of questionable entertainment. The porn movie crackled with tension, explicit moans mingling with the sultry visuals that danced before your eyes, igniting a primal fire within you both.
“Damn,” Logan chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief as he leaned closer, the scent of his cologne intoxicating.
“This is getting good.” The way he watched you, a smirk teasing the corners of his mouth, made your heart race. You shifted in your seat, aware of the heat radiating from him, practically drawing you in.
As the porn scenes intensified, you felt the air grow thick with unspoken desire. Logan’s gaze never left you, a mixture of hunger and amusement flickering in his dark eyes.
“You know,” he drawled, his voice low and gravelly, “we could have a little fun of our own.”
You turned to him, breathless. “What do you mean?”
“Just sit back and enjoy the show. I’ll show you how much I’m enjoying it,” he replied, a smirk spreading across his face.
With a wicked grin, Logan leaned back, his hands slowly moving down his dick as he began to stroke himself.
“Don’t you dare look away,” he commanded, his voice a rough whisper, filled with dominance.
You nodded, your eyes glued to him as he continued. The porn movie faded into the background; all that mattered was Logan—his muscles tensing and relaxing, the powerful rhythm of his hand.
“Stand up,” he growled, the command in his voice making your body respond before your brain could even catch up. You stood before him, the air between you both hot and suffocating, waiting for his next move.
His eyes trailed down your body, dark and intent.
“Open you panties… just enough,” he instructed, his voice raw with need. You swallowed hard, feeling both exposed and exhilarated, as you did what he asked. You slid the fabric to the front, revealing just enough of your folds to him.
Logan’s eyes widened with primal hunger as he took in the sight of your womanhood.
“That’s it, just like that,” he encouraged, his voice low and rough. “You’re beautiful.”
His strokes became faster, his grip tighter, and you could see that he was close—so close.
Without warning, he stood up, towering over you, his body radiating heat.
“Get ready,” he murmured, and before you could fully process, he was there—his hand around his length, pumping with rough precision. “I’m gonna mark you.”
Your heart raced, a wild mixture of desire and anticipation building inside you as you stood facing him, your panties pulled to the front, the cool air brushing against your exposed skin.
Logan’s release came with a low, feral growl, and he angled himself just right—his hot cum spilling into your panties, splattering directly onto your bare vagina. You gasped, feeling the wet heat as it landed on your folds, a sinful mixture of his cum and controlling behavior marking you in the most intimate way.
He stepped closer, his rough hand brushing against your thigh as he smirked down at you.
“Now, pull ‘em back up,” he ordered, voice husky. “Let my cum stay right where it belongs… against your pretty little cunt.”
You hesitated for only a moment before following his command, pulling your panties back into place. The slick heat of his release pressed against your entrance, seeping into you, and the sensation was overwhelming, a wild combination of filthy and exhilarating. You could feel him against you—inside you—and the thought sent a shudder of pure lust through your body.
Logan’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he watched you, his essence now tucked intimately against your body. He reached out, his fingers tracing the line of your hip before gripping it possessively. “That’s it… now, walk around with me all over you.”
His low chuckle sent a spark of heat through you as his hand lingered, his thumb teasing over the fabric of your now-wet panties, pushing his cum even deeper against you.
“You’ll remember this every step you take,” he whispered against your ear, his hot breath making your pulse quicken. “Because now… you’re mine.”
1K notes ¡ View notes
noyoucantpinmedown ¡ 6 months ago
Text
The Bowers Gang When Their Partner Has Their Period
Basically headcanons on the boys' attitude towards periods and how they handle their afab partner having one.
Belch Huggings
While Belch was raised by his loving mom, I picture Mrs. Huggings being quite old-fashioned and therefore very sheepish when it comes to talking biology with her son. Poor woman barely made it through giving him the sex talk, and as a result all Reggie knows is that whatever happens during the elusive ''time of the month'', it's not fun. Despite his lack of knowledge, Belch will be very doting of his partner if he's told they're having theirs, or even if he thinks they might be (he will never ask, or say the P word.) His SO can expect even more cuddles, random store bought or home-cooked treats (Mama Huggins is proud of how considerate her boy is), supplies kept on hand in the glove compartment of his car, patience, and compassion. Will assume sex is out of the question for the time being, but if his partner asks, he's more than happy to oblige. Generally will check on his SO constantly to the point of being annoying, and is willing to do anything they want, being nothing but understanding and obliging the whole time, even if his partner is cranky and takes out their frustration on him. Clueless as he is, he's ready to do anything he can think of to help, and is eager to be directed on what his SO needs. Will it kill him inside to be seen out buying pads for his partner? Yes. Will he do it anyway without complaint? Also yes. 10/10 in terms of support.
Victor Criss
I headcanon Victor as having two younger sisters and one of them is around the Losers' age, so aside from actually having been educated by his parents, he has actually witnessed what it can be like. He's the best prepared for this scenario and the most mature about it. As most teenage boys, Vic is a bit grossed out by the whole thing, but he's determined to handle it maturely and discuss it openly with his partner. Once he knows Aunt Flo is in town, he'll steal some pads from his sister and mom's stash to keep in his backpack, along with some Advil for cramps. He will show empathy for his SO's aches and mood swings, but unlike Belch, he will not take his SO directing their frustration at him- they may be bleeding, but that does not get them a free pass to treat him badly. In terms of intimacy, he's squicked out by blood in a sexual context, so his partner is on their own for that one. Other that that, he's happy to provide whatever his SO needs- he'll cuddle and read with his partner when they're bedridden with cramps, supply them with warm drinks, listen to them rant, and provide plenty of affection.
We're done with the sweet boyfriends part- onto the shitty ones.
Patrick Hockstetter
Patrick's knowledge on menstruation amounts to sexist stereotypes, and shameless as he is, he's not afraid to talk about it. The type to bring it up whenever his partner is grumpier than usual (''Oh, I see. Shark week, is it?''), and enjoys coming up with names for it- they're about as gross as you can expect. He's curious about how it really works, though, which might make it even worse, because now his taunts are even more based in reality. The stereotypical ones don't really stop either, though. The only one who will not tell their partner if their clothes are stained in public, because it's funnier if they're walking around with a red spot on the back of their pants. Patrick has an uncanny ability to just know when his partner's having their monthly visitor without them having to mention it (because he's a stalker with great observational skills). Doesn't give a shit about what their partner is going through, no emotional support to be found here. He's just as likely to take mood swings and crankiness in good fun (but there will be some form of punishment if his SO crosses the line of what he considers entertaining sass) as he is to get bored with it and avoid his partner until they're in a more agreeable mood. But hey, he is not completely useless- will give his partner all the physical affection they want, because he enjoys his partner being clingy and it's easy to transition to sex from there. Every now and then he'll swipe treats and supplies from the store even if he is not asked for them. The more attached Patrick feels to his SO, the more likely he is to do it and the more likely he is to not ask for anything in return... the latter still isn't a lot, he'll still expect his partner to fall over themselves thanking him for his sacrifice and generosity (that being the one chocolate bar he stole while going to steal cigarettes for himself). Generally speaking though, for Patrick it's business as usual. Ditto for intimacy. The negative is that he will expect his partner to put out in some form of another; the positive is that his partner will not be without if they habe those kind of cravings, and absolutely nothing is off the table because we know Patrick is nasty as hell and really enjoys blood. If his partner really wants nothing to do with him in that department, no big deal! He'll just find someone who does while he waits out the crimson tide :) He's such a catch, guys!
Henry Bowers
Oh boy. So, here's the thing: unlike Patrick, Henry actually wants to help. Unlike Vic and Belch, Henry is too stoic and hard-headed to even touch the topic. All he knows about menstruation is wrapped up in sexism, so he probably thinks that ''it's not that big of a deal'', or that ''women play it up for attention''. But he's squeamish when it comes to the reality of All Things Afab, so if he pulls the ''are you on you period'' card when his partner is in a bad mood and his partner answers Yes, I am, expect blushing and stammering. Wants to help, but does not want to talk about it, and a lot of the things that would help he considers demeaning (he will not be caught dead in the feminine care aisle). Not much to offer in the way of emotional support, except awkward pats and clumsy attempts at validation. He will show his partner more grace than usual, but if they're the type to complain a lot, get snappy or emotional, he'll get very tired very quickly. As far as sex is concerned, Henry expects his needs to still be met but refuses to touch his partner below the hips- he won't push his SO more than once or twice, though, and will wait it out without bringing it up again. Generally better at the quiet moments: sitting with his SO while they nap or watch a movie, wordlessly giving them food or a hot water bottle and trying to blissfully ignore the whole situation as much as he can.
341 notes ¡ View notes
writebackatya ¡ 1 month ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
Penumbra is definitely the only a Three Caballero fan
Della introduced Penumbra to the Three Caballeros to playfully tease Donald but Penumbra ended up loving their music especially since their lead vocalist is a brave warrior
In return Donald gave her a free Three Caballero shirt and CD album he had leftover from the band’s early days. The rest of the hundreds of unsold shirts and CDs are stored somewhere in Scrooge’s garage
199 notes ¡ View notes
ivorysfilms ¡ 29 days ago
Text
dating patrick hockstetter headcanons (MOVIE)
Tumblr media Tumblr media
- this man is the LIGHTEST sleeper you will ever meet, like.. it’s kinda scary sometimes, you’ll accidentally knock something over and when you turn back around he’ll be sitting up and staring into your soul
- he def smells like some type of cologne that his mom bought for him and forces him to wear, burning stuff obvi and hairspray
- his mom is a christian(book reference) so expect to see him in church every sunday in his preppy dress shirt and tie
- he thought michael jackson was attractive when he was younger and whenever his mom brings it up he gets super pissed off
- he’s definitely not a mama’s boy or anything, he literally forgets her name sometimes but he favors her over his dad
- this mf has a hair pulling kink i CALL it, his hair is so pretty to not be pulled at
- his laugh is SO high pitched (as if his voice isn’t already but yk) i saw a behind the scenes and owen teague’s laugh is so silly in it
- okay so about his hair again it’s too pretty for him to not care about it so i fear he wraps it in a towel when he gets out of the shower and treats it like a baby(NOT like he would in the book guys..)
- he probably has gotten arrested like once or twice or at least told off by henry’s dad for setting things on fire around town with his “flamethrower”
- this mangy ass is weak as hell he can barely lift weights without falling like a damsel in distress to the ground
- ew he probably comes up behind you and goes ‘guess who!’ OR he wraps his arm around your neck like your a frat boy buddy
- he cannot dance so if he’s at a party or someplace with music he’ll just head-bang and jump
- he probably has insomnia so he gets up at like three in the morning and wanders around the house like this:
Tumblr media
- he definitely enjoys graffiti and likes to spray paint random buildings in derry but he probably isn’t good at it so he’ll probably just write something like ‘penis’ or paints all over actual graffiti art
- i think he’s definitely more of a cat guy then dog because he has the personality and agility of one or if it came to any exotic animals he’d be a ferret
- will chase you around with dead bugs or mice if you’re afraid of either (HE DIDN’T KILL THEM) that’s book only guys
- he’s definitely more of a cigarette guy than a alcoholic but once in a while he’ll get shitfaced with the gang(you have to pick him up after)
- will give you any of his clothes, bracelets, rings, just ask. he loves seeing you in his stuff it’s like the equivalent of you in a collar that says his name
- he LOVES sushi, most likely because his mom cooked it a lot during his child years, but will beg to grab some while belch is driving, usually they do get it but they stop somewhere else because henry will shit his pants if he eats it(he hates it)
- MANSPREADS
- allows you to do his makeup or paint his nails if you’re on the girlier side, but if not he likes when you do his skincare
- i feel like the song that plays when the bowers gang is first introduced on screen (love removal machine by the cult) is the type of music he enjoys or that is his favorite song. he likes grungy/metal teenage boy music yk
Tumblr media
FIRST POST EVER COMPLETED??? OH YAYAYAYA
who was gonna tell me trying to add your own gifs was such a struggle.. “gif to big!” THATS WHAT SHE SAID like stfu and let me add the dang gif
Tumblr media
164 notes ¡ View notes