#people are now starting to realize how full of shit it is

[qrrieterisunnq]

Amara's Valentine's Challenge - Jack Hughes

strawberry girl masterlist

JACK!HUGHES X AMARA!JAMES — WARNINGS: nothing just sweet pure content — SUMMARY: Amara challenges Jack to a “best Valentine’s gift” contest. Jack goes all out with a surprise dinner, personalized gifts, and even some cheesy romantic gestures. Amara, caught off guard by how much effort he puts in, realizes there’s more to his feelings than just competition. — WORD COUNT: 3,0 — AUTHOR'S NOTE: I am so sorry it took so long!! But school was hell last and this week and I just didn't have time. But I hope you'll like it!! PART OF STRAWBERRY GIRL AU

“I love you too mom,” Jack sighed with a shit-eating grin on his face. His phone was resting on his chest as he lay on the sofa.

“Tell Amara I love her and to call me as soon as she gets home.” Ellen’s voice was full of love as she said those words.

“I will mom. Bye! I’ll call tomorrow, ‘kay?”

“Okay, bye, love you.” Jack could hear the love in her voice as she said them.

“Bye.” With that, he ended the call, closed his eyes, and took in a deep breath. It was a long, really long day and all he wanted was a hot bath with Amara and then cuddles until they both fell asleep.

But with Amara still gone in a shop, he lay on a couch and decided to wait for her.

It wasn’t until an hour later when Amara finally got home with bags hanging from her hands. When Jack and Luke spotted her, they shot up to their feet to take those bags away from her and let her rest for a while.

“Enjoyed shopping, Berry?” Luke asked her with a grin as he sorted the groceries from the bags.

“Not exactly, too many people there.” She sighed, leaning her head against the headrest on the sofa.

“You know I would have gone with you if you’d asked, love,” Jack called from the kitchen while putting the groceries in the freezer and fridge.

“I know, but you had practice, and I didn’t want to tire you even more.” She called back, crossing her legs under her and massaging her temple.

“Anyway, mom is saying hi, that she loves you and you are supposed to call her.”

“I will, but right now I need to get some rest.” She smiled when she saw Jack and Luke entering the living room.

“Jackyyy?” Amara sang her boyfriend’s name through his room while she was lying on his bed.

“Berryyy?” he mocked her, his head peaking from his bathroom door.

“I have an idea,” she grinned when she heard the faint sigh coming from the bathroom. Jack walked out with a toothbrush in his mouth and rested his shoulder against the doorframe. He nodded his head signaling for her to start speaking.

“You know Valentine’s Day is in ten days, and I was thinking,” she paused to take a breath because sometimes she forgets to breathe when she speaks. “What about a little contest? Between you and me. About whom will have the better gift.” She suggested, playing with the hem of her shirt nervously. “But we don’t have to.”

Jack looked at her with a soft smile, his hand still moving the toothbrush in his mouth. “No, I want to. It is a nice idea.” he grinned with toothpaste in his mouth. Amara squealed in happiness, clapping quietly her hands.

“But so, you know. I will win!” he grinned at her and then returned to the bathroom to rinse his mouth.

“No way! I am a winner!” she called after him, throwing the duvet over her.

The days flew by, and Valentine’s Day was behind the door. While Amara already had Jack’s gift at Nico’s place for a few weeks and was now waiting for the rest to come so she could wrap them, Jack decided to take it differently.

Of course, he bought her gifts, which are now in Lukey’s room, but he wanted to do something she would not forget. That is why he is standing in the Prudential Center with Nico, Luke, and Jesper, preparing the date for them. Because of the Four Nations, Jack had to leave just like Jesper, so he wanted to prepare in time.

The good thing was that there weren’t any games on Valentine’s Day, so Jack could return to New Jersey to celebrate it and then leave for Montreal the next morning.

He had arranged with a restaurant that they would prepare food for them, just for Nico to pick it up and deliver it to the Center.  

“Okay so I was thinking about a red heart made of rose petals somewhere in the middle of the ice with a table, where you would then bring the food,” Jack grinned as he looked at Nico, who smirked at him.

“Oh, wait until you see what I have planned to wear,” Nico responded grinning widely.

“Can wait to see,” Jack laughed and pulled out a bag with rose petals. “Okay, shall we start?”

“Yeah, let's get into it.” They nodded in unison and got into work. After an hour and a half, they were finished and headed home. When Jack and Luke entered the apartment Amara was nowhere to be found, only the bright red note she put on the fridge.

Left for a class. Will come later have something to do.Love you both!- Berry

“Wanna play something?” Luke suggested as he opened the fridge getting out two cans of Diet Coke.

“Why not.” Jack shrugged, popping onto a couch, and making himself comfortable.

“Thank you again, Nico,” Ara smiled at him, while she sat on his couch, packing the gift for Jack.

“No problem, Berry,” he responded and sat down beside her. “You know you are always welcome.” He nudged her foot with his chuckling when she sent a glare his way.

“Oh, don’t you by any chance know what did Jack plan?”

“By any chance, I do not know,” She chuckles at her question, knowing damn well that she is nervous about it. “I’ll put on some film, what do you think? I am kinda tired.”

“Sure,” smiling she nodded her head, while she continued working.

Amara worked on the gift for the next two hours, while Nico passed out next to her snorting quietly. She was glad she had someone she could confide in and it was a nice feeling because she knew it was sometimes hard to get along with her. When she was finally done, Nico was still sleeping so she left a note on the table and left quietly.

Thank you so much for letting me do it here!Love you N.- Ara

When she opened the door, all she could hear was Jack and Luke’s bickering. Quietly she closed the door behind her, putting the keys in the bowl next to the doors.

Kicking off her shoes, she walked deeper into the apartment, the voices getting louder as she walked towards the kitchen. When she looked for what was going on, she gasped.

It looked like there was some kind of explosion because the flour was everywhere. And she meant everywhere.

“Jesus, Luke! I told you to be careful,” Jack sighed, soothing the flour from his clothes. “Look at the mess.”

“I’m sorry, did know it would fly everywhere.” Luke defended himself, couching when the floor fell from his hair to his mouth.

“I rather don’t want to know what is going on in there.” She mumbled to herself, leaving quietly, so the two of them didn’t notice her.

When Amara woke up two days later, on Valentine’s Day, she couldn’t wait to see Jack.

She was anxious all day as she was preparing for Jack to arrive. She already had the gift in Nico’s car, for when they leave for Jack to the airport.

She spent two hours choosing her clothes until she decided on light wide-leg jeans with a white sweatshirt, uggs, and coat.

She was so nervous she cleaned the whole apartment two times and even sorted out her messy closet. Which, to be honest, was a good thing.

When Nico knocked on the door, she almost tripped and fell face straight on her face, but she managed to keep herself from falling and opened the door for him.

“You ready, Berry?” Amara just nodded her head and took her purse.

“Yeah, I can’t wait to see him.” She called out with excitement jumping a little bit.

Nico just chuckled at her eagerness and led her to his car so they could leave in time.

The whole ride there Amara talked about how excited she was to see Jack and couldn’t wait for his reaction to her gift.

“Don’t be nervous. He’ll love it,” Nico said, trying to calm her nerves as he noticed her bouncing legs and slightly shaky hands.

“I hope so.” She sighed, resting her head against the car window.

“He will. I’m positive.”

The rest of the ride was quiet, as Nico focused on the traffic and Amara was thinking about Jack’s reaction. Imagining every scenario her mind could think of.

She knew she shouldn’t do this but she couldn’t control her mind and it was hard for her to not do this.

When they arrived, Amara almost ran inside the airport, but Nico stopped her from doing so. He knew she would probably trip over something on the way there.

“I am so excited.” She giggled as she waited for Nico to join her side, so she could grab his arm and walk with him.

“I can see that, Berry.”

“Sorry.” She mumbled in embarrassment, her cheeks turning bright red.

“That is okay, girl! I get it!” he chuckled, tickling her through the layers of clothes.

“What about you? Do you have any plans for today?” she asked wiggling her eyebrows.

“No, not at all,” He had to laugh because he would spend the day helping Jack with his gift. “Will probably just relax at home.”

“You should find yourself, someone,” Amara sighed slipping through the door Nico was holding open for her. “Hate seeing you alone all the time.”

“Oh, come on, I like being single,” Nico smirked, wiggling his brows. “You know how peaceful it is at my apartment? No one is telling me about the mess in my room, or in my bathroom.” Amara just giggled shaking her head at his words.

“Jackyyy!” she shouted when she saw him approaching them with a bag in his hand.

“Babe,” he laughed, dropping the bag on the ground and waiting for her to approach him and jump at him. As soon as she jumped at him, he grabbed her under her ass and slammed her lips.

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned against her lips, adjusting her in his arm and steadying himself. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” She mumbled, leaning her forehead against his.

“You haven’t seen each other only for two days.” Nico sighed from behind them with a chuckle.

“Shut up Nino,” Amara said over her shoulder, but still giggled because it was true. Jack was gone for two days but still, she missed him so much, because she was alone in the apartment, after Luke left for Michigan.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Berry.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jacky.”

“Okay, shall we leave or are you going to make out?” Nico sighed after five minutes of you standing in the middle of the airport hall.

Amara jumped down, blushing when she noticed the people staring at them.

Jack and Nico just chuckled at her reaction and together left the airport. A few minutes into the ride Amara didn’t notice, that they were heading in a different direction than their apartment was.

“Where are we heading?” she asked, from the backseat. Jack looks around at you with a smile.

“Somewhere.” Jack grinned at her. Amara looked at Nico with confusion and he just smirked focusing on the road. She took in a deep breath and patiently but nervously waited until they reached their destination.

“Jack, if I fall, I will smack you!” Amara mumbled under her nose quietly, but loud enough for Jack to hear it.

“I’ll catch you before your pretty face touches the ground.” He smiled lightly and carefully led her through the arena hall towards the ice.

Nico was in their locker room, changing into his clothes, and Amara’s gift was next to him.

He would wait until dinner to give the gift to Amara so she could enjoy the dinner.

“We are here,” Jack announced as he stopped in front of the ice. He was standing back towards the huge heart ob the ice, wanting to see Amara’s reaction.

Amara slowly took down the bandana and blinked few time to gave her eyes the opportunity to adjust to the dim light. When her eyes were okay, she looked around and gasped when her eyes landed on the sight in front of her.

Tears welled up in her eyes. The place looked gorgeous. There was red carpet on the ice, lighted by candles and was leading to the two seat table in the center. The rose petals were around it and she could assumed it was the shape of heart, even though it was hard to guess that from this far.

The red highlights were dimly lighted, bringing out comfortable and romantic atmosphere.

“Jack,” she breathed out, her eyes darting across the entire setup. There was so much to take in—the candlelit pathway, the petals arranged in what she thought was a heart, the dim red lights making everything glow softly. It was overwhelming in the best way possible.

She blinked a few times, trying to process it all, but her brain was moving faster than she could keep up with. “Did you—how did you—when did you even—?”

Jack chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “So, I take it you like it?”

Amara turned to him, still in slight shock. “Like it?” she echoed, her brain short-circuiting. “Jack, I didn’t even know you were planning anything! I thought we were just exchanging gifts! I—I did not prepare for this level of romance!”

Jack laughed, reaching for her hands. “That was the point, Berry.” His thumbs brushed over her knuckles, grounding her. “Wanted to surprise you.”

Amara exhaled sharply, her mind still racing. “Okay, okay, let me just—” She squeezed his hands and closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath. When she opened them, her brain finally caught up with her emotions, and the full weight of what Jack had done hit her.

She let out a small, breathy laugh. “Jack, this is… it’s amazing.”

His shoulders relaxed, and he grinned. “Yeah?”

Amara nodded furiously. “Yeah. I just—wow—okay. I need to sit down before my brain combusts.”

Jack laughed again, tugging her gently toward the table. “Then let’s eat before Nico gets impatient.”

As if on cue, Nico appeared, dramatically clearing his throat. “Speaking of which, your waiter has arrived.”

Amara turned her head—and promptly snorted.

Nico stood beside the table in a ridiculous bright-red tuxedo, complete with a bowtie and an exaggeratedly professional stance. “You like it?” he asked, spinning slightly to show it off.

Amara clapped her hands together, giggling. “You look incredible, N.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I told you he’d be dramatic.”

“I prefer dedicated,” Nico corrected, pulling out Amara’s chair with an exaggerated flourish. “M’lady.”

She shook her head, grinning as she took her seat. “Wow. Five-star service.”

Jack took the seat across from her, smirking. “So. Since I obviously won our Valentine’s contest—”

Amara gasped, leaning forward. “Excuse me?! We haven’t exchanged gifts yet!”

“I mean, look around,” Jack teased, gesturing to the entire setup. “Kinda hard to top this.”

“Oh, just wait,” Amara shot back, her eyes glinting with mischief.

Jack narrowed his eyes. “Wait—what do you mean by—”

Before he could finish, Nico dramatically placed two plates in front of them, interrupting. “Your meal, lovebirds.”

Jack gave him a look. “You love this, don’t you?”

Nico simply smirked. “Enjoy your meal. I’ll be over there, minding my own business—”

“Yeah, sure you will,” Jack muttered as Amara giggled.

Even as they ate, Amara still felt a bit jittery—not in a bad way, just in a too much excitement all at once way. She bounced her leg under the table, fingers fidgeting with her napkin, mind still spinning from the surprise. Every time she looked at Jack, he was already looking at her, and she’d get hit with another wave of holy shit, he really did all this for me.

When they were done eating, Jack leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. “Alright, Berry. You ready to admit I won?”

Amara smirked. “Not yet.”

She grabbed her phone and sent a quick text. A few seconds later, Nico walked over, holding a neatly wrapped box. He handed it to Jack with a smug smile.

Jack shot her a curious look. “What is this?”

“Your turn, Jacky boy,” Nico said, smirking.

Jack looked down at the wooden box, opening it slowly. The first thing he noticed were polaroids on the lid of it, then the stuffed bear and some candy. He pulled out the bear, revealing a sleek leather-bound journal with his initials embossed in silver. He ran his fingers over the cover, his expression softening. “Berry…”

“Open it,” Amara urged, bouncing slightly in her seat.

Jack did—and immediately sucked in a breath. The pages were filled with handwritten notes, little doodles, and tucked-in polaroids of them. There were memories scribbled in the margins, song lyrics she knew he loved, even inside jokes she’d carefully written down.

Jack flipped to a page where Amara had drawn a tiny, terrible stick-figure version of him. Underneath, she’d written: Future hockey legend (but still my dork).

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in disbelief. “You made this?”

Amara nodded, suddenly shy. “I started a while ago. Thought it’d be something you could take with you when we’re apart.”

Jack swallowed hard, his fingers tracing over the pages. “Berry, this is…” He shook his head, at a loss for words. “This is the best thing anyone’s ever given me.”

Amara felt her face heat up. “So… did I win?”

Jack let out a choked laugh, closing the journal before standing up. Without another word, he walked around the table, pulled her up, and wrapped her in a tight hug.

“Yeah,” he murmured against her hair. “You win.”

Nico groaned in the background. “You both win, okay? Now stop being disgustingly cute before I throw myself onto the ice.”

Amara laughed, burying her face in Jack’s shoulder. He just held her closer, swaying them slightly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Berry.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Jacky.”

[once-and-future-loser]

OK. Last crazy post of the day, I promise. Just a short something that came to mind thirty minutes ago. Enjoy!

*I have no idea if they stayed at the same hotel, if there was a hotel, or if there was an after party, but the "F" in RFP is the most important letter so...*

----------

“Playing chess with Lewis, No?”

Charles startles at the hotel bar where he’d been slowly nursing an overpriced “Livery Libation,” some terrible signature cocktail for the F1 75 afterparty, mostly gin and blue curacao.

It was just a few drivers and team staff hanging around at the hotel and Charles was about ready to turn in for the night when Carlos had sidled up next to him at the bar.

Charles just hums, trying not to look directly at Carlos.  Always a perilous act.

“Is he any good?”  Carlos follows up when Charles doesn’t have any more details to offer.

Lewis had started it actually, didn’t know that chess was their thing, and Charles had just gone along, maybe too eagerly.

“Yes, better than you, Carlos.”

He was also much better than Charles.

 “Ah, so you do still know my name!  You have lost my contact though it seems.”

It wasn’t like that, he just hadn’t reached out, he was… busy.  Nothing complicated.

“Shut up, Carlos.  You are full of shit.”

Charles notices he’s drained his drink and flags down the bartender for another he didn’t realize he needed.  Carlos just smiles.

“Ok.  So, how is Alex?” Charles bites out, not really wanting to know.  Like at all.

“He is good!  He is a good teammate already.”  Charles winces, but Carlos goes on.  “He is very nice and we are on equal footing I think.  We are prioritizing the team this year.  I think he will follow team orders and everything!”  Carlos turns around and leans his back against the wall.  Charles explodes.

“It is you who was not following team orders!  I was doing everything for the team, and trying so hard for the constructors and you…”  Charles trails off seeing Carlos chuckling, a smirk and gleam in his eye.  Cat and mouse again.  Charles walked right into it.

“There’s no hard feelings Charles, you look happy, optimistic.  I hope you win it all this year.” 

Charles mirrors Carlos looking out at the half empty bar, brushing their shoulders together, not even thinking about it, the familiar warm feeling in his chest coming back after months of absence.

“So, why did you not call?”  Carlos asks, sipping his drink, a clear bubbling something, probably just soda water.  He hadn’t been sexualized and ridiculed in front of thousands of people so he probably didn’t need to drink.

“I am the reason you are in the back now, why you are not a ferrari driver, I did not think you would want to hear from me anymore.”  Charles quietly admits, giving voice to something he had been refusing to think about for some time.

Carlos is suddenly facing him, eyes steeled, deadly serious.

“No.  It is not like this.  It has never been like this.  Not with you, especially you.”

Charles watches dumbstruck as Carlos carefully fishes something out of his pocket.  He opens Charles’ suit coat and slides his hand in the inside pocket.

“I think we have a lot to talk about, Charles.”  Carlos says, leveling Charles with a somber but hopeful glare, and walks out of the bar.

Charles reaches into the pocket where Carlos had slid his hand and feels the unmistakable smooth plastic under a small envelope that must be a hotel room key card.

Charles is thinking about how stupid this is, they have nothing to discuss, as he walks to the elevator.  They are not even teammates now, it shouldn't matter. He looks at the room number on the card, brushing his fingers over the room number, 16106.

“I will not go up there” he thinks as he presses the button for the 16th floor.

[inlovewithatvstar]

talking about the morgue files

because i love this series so much and have no one to talk to about it. i stg this fandom is so small i could fit everyone in my closet and half of it is thirsting over jeff i’m sick and tired

Starting with toby’s case 😼

I loved david’s take on the character. I know it’s not exactly “true” to the original because of the whole kastoway thing (ie him not having tourette’s and things like that, but it makes sense because that was one of the most recognizable traits of the original toby’s character)

But again it’s a rewrite and he took all the best parts of toby’s character and made them 10x better+more believable. He really feels like a full fledged, multifaceted human being.

Starting with his relationship with Dr Wilson. Wilson is such a good character and it breaks my heart that the two of them couldn’t have more time together, but this is forest lawn obviously nobody can have shit. Toby absolutely had a shot at living a normal life after pinehearst and knowing he doesn’t get that :( jeff wtf.

The way he rewrote the car wreck is absolutely GUT WRENCHING and made me feel absolutely no sympathy for his parents. David is phenomenal at writing characters to make people love them or in this case absolutely despise them.

Frank and Evelyn are truly despicable human beings in their own ways. Frank is just a violent scumbag. From the day he met the kids to the day he died he was nothing but abusive .

But Evelyn, while she herself wasn’t actively violent. Her doing NOTHING while not only herself. but her CHILDREN were violently abused is equally as disgusting. The fact that she buried her own daughter to keep her husband out of trouble just shows how truly horrible she is.

Tobys relationship with the Crothers family was definitely a breath of fresh air in the story. They were both loveable, funny and genuinely kind people. Their deaths hit hard and even though toby wasn’t responsible for either, knowing it was caused by their proximity to him is just heartbreaking.

I enjoyed the incorporation of J.C in the story. Bullying from an old friend who KNOWS how difficult everything is for toby is just :( man.

The nightmare/ hallucination sequences were so well produced the sound effects had me SQUIRMING in my seat. Especially that scene with Mr wells stabbing himself. Those squelching noises EUGHHHHHH.

Overall this case set up an amazing character and so many potential arcs for toby when his character is re introduced and i’m so excited

Now case #2

Case 2 was a lot more character oriented then toby’s, since toby’s was told about him from his own perspective. Jeff’s is told by him for the most part and has many moving parts to it so i’m going to break it up by character

Starting with jeff- This series actually made jeff scary and 👏👏 bravo to that. As revealed not only in the Pinehearst sessions but throughout this case. Jeff has just been, to put it nicely, a little shit his whole life. At first I thought his dad was being unreasonable with how fed up he was with jeff. But as the story goes on it makes you realize that damn…..this guy is a piece of shit. From the way he talks about Christy, the way he treats his family, multilating animals, the list goes on. Jeff has been dealt a bad hand in life. He’s been picked on for his albinism, gotten into a lot of fights. But that’s not what’s wrong with him. Jeff is the problem.

I will admit Jeff getting jumped by Paul and the rollins gang felt a bit random. And i don’t even mean that as a criticism because it doesn’t mess with the tone of this story at all. The story is very campy and the rollins gang and the random british psycho doesn’t change the vibe. I just find it funny that this english rando showed up and absolutely K.O’d him 😭

jeff’s design after getting attacked is SICK. He’s not this hot emo guy. nah that man is HORRIFYING. and it honestly suits his character. The whole night of murder isn’t because he “snapped” or had a feeling or any of that dumb shit. he is literally just a sick person who has ALWAYS wanted to kill people. AND HE DOESNT FEEL BAD IF BRO DIDNT GET CAUGHT HE WOULD HAVE KEPT GOING.

overall I adore the way jeff is written and he’s such a fun villain because absolutely NO ONE is rooting for him.

Now onto Liu!!- Liu was (at least in my opinion) such a loveable character. I’m honestly very excited to see him written well for once😭. David obviously did his research when incorporating his D.I.D into the story. The two things that weren’t as realistic as they could have been were for one, the voices for his alters are very dramatic. But storytelling wise I understand why they were so dramatic. Because you can’t see Liu’s face or his body language to see who’s who. So for the listeners it makes sense. The other thing is normally the “switches” wouldn’t be as quick as they were portrayed but again, it’s a short audio story and Liu was not the main focus so i understand wanting to get the point of the scene across as fast as possible.

But as far as his character goes I loved him the whole way through. He was funny, you can tell he really cares for his family and he was so sweet :(. This man could not catch a break. In the pinehearst sessions jeff basically admits he has been torturing this mf since he was BORN. beat him up?? killed his bunny?? you name it he did it. But with all that being said it does confuse me that their parents said that the two used to be close. When throughout the case + Pinehearst sessions jeff never seemed to care for liu? I’m just assuming liu blocked it out given sully’s obvious disdain for jeff😭

I thought incorporating mr widemouth in the overall narrative through lius storyline worked very well. I’m ngl sully crashing out at least every 25 minutes was 100% justified if i lived with jeff and had a monster in my closest and no one believed me i’d be PISSED OFF. Except for when he was with dr wilson man was just doing his job. But i would love to see another session with him because the short one we had was very interesting! Very excited to see him in future cases.

Now onto their parents- The writing on his parents was PHENOMENAL 👏👏

As I already talked about jeff has been a little shit his whole life, and Liu’s got his own stuff going on. So him being fed up with them for the first half of the story is totally reasonable. But when his family needed him. He stepped up. Phenomenal man to the end👏👏

Their mom was such a sweetheart :(. She obviously cared so much that by the end she just couldn’t bring herself to keep caring. But she never stopped loving her family and I think that’s so sweet. She’s very joyce byers throughout this whole case and her death hurt me the most. Even JEFF knew she didn’t deserve that.

All the side character like Sherman, Christy. and Spencer i loved. I know Spencer was an asshole but he was SO funny 😭

Cutting it off here for now i’ll talk about 3 and 4 in another post 😈

[dvrylgal]

⋆༺𓆩 kehetu: chapter one 𓆪༻⋆

synopsis: you get spooked on your way back to camp... and ed learns a valuable lesson.

cw: canon typical violence, gore, profanity, mature themes, cannibalism (zombies), zombies (obviously), racism (Merle), reader is black, reader is from jersey, reader is a mechanic, reader was raised native (ish), reader's a bit of an atheist

a/n: this'll all make sense trust

When the sisters at St. Eloise's School for Wayward Girls preached about the end times, you always thought it was bullshit.

Talk of earthquakes, and pestilences, and false prophets, as if those things didn't already exist.

It was stupid.

And you thought all the other girls who believed in that shit were stupid, too.

In fact, you found the whole Catholic thing to be utterly stupid.

There was no being up above, surveilling the world and providing wisdom and comfort to his followers. 

There was no sunshine-and-rainbows afterlife, where you'd spend the rest of eternity in living it up in luxury.

There was no greater purpose or higher calling, or reward for living a life of virtue and righteousness.

The whole Catholic thing was nothing but a mass of death-fearing assholes wanting a way out of paying for their crimes by "confessing their sins".

It was all bullshit.

And you had the cane scars to prove it.

But... if there was one thing they got right—of all things—it was the resurrection of the dead.

You let out a silent chuckle, carefully peering down the shaft of your arrow as you set your sights on a nice, fat goose.

If there was a God, he had a fucked up sense of humor.

Narrowing your eyes, you watched as the bird ruffled its feathers, dipping its wings in the pond before brushing them over its head, cleaning itself as it waded through the water.

"That's right..." you muttered, allowing it to drift closer. "Line up, duckie."

You held steady, lying in wait as you crouched among the tweeds and the tall grass.

Until it finally lined up just right.

Without hesitation, you released your arrow, the snap of the bowstring punctuating the goose's life as you shot it dead in the cheek, killing it instantly.

"Thank you, Kehetu," you sighed, standing to your full height.

Your foster father.

He was native—Comanche—and never had the privilege of having his own children.

But he loved and cared for you all the same, and taught you everything he and his forefathers had ever learned.

How to live off the land...

How to hunt for your food...

Complex wilderness survival...

Typical teen girl stuff.

Trudging through the mud, you crossed the bank and stepped into the shallow end of the pond, snatching up your kill by the neck and yanking the arrow out its head with a sick squelch.

'Better start headin' back... m'gonna lose the light soon.'

You hummed to yourself, glancing up at the sky as you used the rope slung over your shoulder to attach your bird to the three other geese you hunted. 

Letting out a soft grunt, you slung your bow across your back, starting off back toward camp.

If you were being honest, you didn't have the slightest idea as to why you were holing up with a bunch of strangers.

It wasn't like you needed protection.

Or assistance...

Or comfort...

With your survival skills, you had gotten along the first two weeks of the apocalypse perfectly fine.

Almost eerily so.

But to you, there wasn't much difference from your routine pre-outbreak.

Snag a Honey Bun from the corner store, show up late to your old man's car shop, start working, and then return to his cabin in the sticks for a rabbit dinner and a beer.

Only change now was that Honey Buns were practically nonexistent.

But you'd stumbled across these people about two weeks ago, and quickly realized that a great many of them weren't going to last a month.

They were too cushy... too accustomed to the luxuries that came with modern life... too attached to the normalcy they'd been living in for so long.

Hell, you were sure that if you dropped any number of them out in the woods on their own, they wouldn't last a single day.

You sighed, tightening your grip on the rope as you trekked up a small hill.

Call it pity... call it empathy... hell, call it the charity Sister Margaret wouldn't shut the hell up about.

But something in the pit of your chest couldn't leave these people to fend for themselves.

Not like this.

Not with the world as it was now.

Nearing the clearing, you took notice of some rustling, instantly snapping yourself out of your thoughts and focusing up.

With practiced ease, you readied your bow, quietly pulling an arrow out of your otter-skin quiver.

You lowered your stance, stalking carefully as you slowly approached the edge of the trees.

'No way it's a biter... they never come this far up the mountain...'

Inhaling a sharp, silent breath, you lunged into the clearing, drawing your arrow on the first thing that moved.

Only to find it was Dale and the others, weapons ready as they stood around a half-eaten deer.

"Fuckin' Christ," you groaned, lowering your bow with an annoyed snarl. "Hell's the matter with you assholes? I almost shot Dale."

Quickly surveying the group, you realized there was a new face among the bunch.

A man... with scruffy stubble, a white tee, and an authoritative air about him

"Who the hell is he?"

"I—"

"Son of a bitch," a familiar voice spat, emerging from the woods to the right of you. 

'Fuck me...'

"Thas' mah deer!" Daryl exclaimed, trudging toward where it lay, right next to a dead walker. "Look at it. All gnawed on by this..."

His brows furrowed as he dealt swift kicks to the corpse's stomach.

"Filthy... disease-bearin'... motherless... poxy bastard!"

"Calm down, son. That's not helping," Dale sighed, resting his hands on his hips.

"What do you know about it, old man?" Darly scoffed, stepping around the carcass to get in his face. "Why donchu take that stupid hat and go back to On Golden Pond?"

"Ay, watch your fuckin' mouth, trailer park," you spat, sizing the man up with a sharp glare.

"Fuck you," he scoffed, turning around to tug his bolts out of the deer. "I been trackin' this deer for miles... was gonna drag it back to camp... cook us up some venison."

Leaning down, he traced the area where the walker had eaten its lunch.

"Whaddya think? You think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

"I would not risk that," Shane denied, hanging his arms on the shotgun resting around his neck.

"Thas' a damn shame," Daryl sighed. "Well, I got some squirrel—'bout a dozen or so. That'll havtah do."

"I picked up about four geese," you chimed, holding up your rope. "Should be more than enough."

Glancing over in your direction, Daryl's eyes narrowed slightly, not very appreciative of the one-up.

But you flashed him a small smirk, pleased.

'Serves you right, asshole...'

You and your fellow hunter had been at odds since the moment you met—mostly because of his racist-ass brother... but odds nonetheless.

Merle was not quiet whatsoever about his distaste for "your kind", and you took quite a great deal of offense to that given you were one of the main members feeding the damn group, as well as making sure all the vehicles were in shape for a speedy getaway.

But anyone who had beef with Merle, had beef with Daryl, no matter how well-founded.

Just then, the head of the decapitated walker groaned back to life, blinking its cloudy eyes with a harsh snarl.

"C'mon, people. What the hell?" Daryl scolded, stepping forward and shooting it in the head. "It's gotta be the brain."

He scoffed, roughly tugging his bolt out its eye before walking off.

"Don't chu know nothin'?"

"Can someone explain to me how the women wound up doin' all the Hattie McDaniel work" Jacqui grumbled, plopping down a hamper of dirty clothes next to the creek.

"The world ended. Didn't you get the memo?" Amy chuckled, dryly.

Carol paused a moment, glancing back at her husband, Ed, who leaned idly against one of the truck beds.

"It's just the way it is," she sighed, setting aside a clean shirt.

"Not how it should be," you scoffed, muffled by the knife between your teeth as you plucked your third goose.

"Well, I do miss my Maytag."

"I miss my Benz... my Satnav," Andrea agreed.

"I miss my coffee maker with that dual-drip filter and built-in grinder, honey," Jacqui groaned, wistfully.

"My computer... and texting," Amy huffed.

You paused a moment, wondering on what pleasure you missed that wasn't readily available.

"Cold beer... maybe my truck," you stated, pulling out another tail feather.

"I miss my vibrator," Andrea blurted, making you snort.

"Oh!" Jacqui smirked, turning to the woman with a knowing look.

"Oh, my God!"

Making sure the coast was clear, Carol looked around, before turning back to the group.

"Me, too."

At that, the lot of women burst into laughter, you included.

Out of all of you—besides Lori and Miranda—Carol was the only one with an actual husband or partner to speak of.

It was a surprise to see she hadn't gotten much recently.

'Never thought people would have trouble puttin' out in the apocalypse...'

"What's so funny?" Ed suddenly chimed, appearing out of nowhere.

"Just swappin' war stories, Ed," Andrea chuckled, riding out her laughter.

But Carol was less amused.

In fact, her face immediately fell the moment she set sights on her husband.

The action sent a spike of anger coursing through your veins, and introduced a certain furrow to your brow.

Ed was a do-nothing, abusive asshole, who was known for putting his hands on Carol, and their young girl, Sophia.

You'd seen the bruises before, and their fearful silence, and you offered more than once to handle the situation for them.

With society collapsed there was no law, and with no law, there was no murder.

And whether it was Ed or goddamn goose made no difference to you.

A carcass was a carcass.

But Carol insisted you stay out if it, and you respected her wishes.

Though... that didn't mean you had to like it.

"There a problem, Ed?" you asked, sharply, as you drew the knife from your mouth, turning to glance at him with an annoyed glare.

"Nothin' that concerns you," he fired back, taking a puff of his cigarette. "And you ought to focus on your work. This ain't no comedy club."

"Oh, yeah? 'Cause I'm lookin' at somethin' real funny right now," you spat, staring him down.

"(y/n)," Carol whispered, sharply.

"Nah, he don't like how his laundry's done, he can do it his damn self."

Rising to your feet, you snatched up a wet pair of pants, tossing it into his chest.

"Go 'head. Feel free to pitch in."

Roughly, he threw it right back, hitting you square in the neck.

"Ain't my job, missy."

You scoffed, eyes widening at his audacity.

"(y/n), don't—"

"What is your job, asshole? Bum around smokin' cigarettes?" you barked, cutting Amy off.

"Well, it sure as hell ain't listenin' to some smart mouth bitch. I tell you that."

"This bitch is makin' sure that yo' fatass fuckin' eats tonight."

"C'mon. Let's go," he ignored you, his orders directed toward Carol.

"Nah, she ain't gotta go anywhere witchu," you denied.

"It's none of your business. Come on, now. You heard me."

Whipping around, you turned to the woman, your eyes softening.

"Carol."

"(y/n), please. It doesn't matter."

"Hey," Ed stepped forward, getting into your face. "Don't think I won't knock you on your ass 'cause you some city-born cooze, all right?"

"Knock who? You wanna settle this, we can settle this right here."

"You don't wanna keep proddin' the bull here, okay? Now I am done talkin'. C'mon."

Lunging forward, he snatched up Carol's arm, getting ready to pull her off.

"No, Carol," Andrea stepped up, resting a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to—"

"She don't havtah what?! I tell you what!"

Ed's hand suddenly whipped up, striking his wife across the face with a harsh slap.

And you took that as the a-okay.

As the women screamed, you flipped around your knife, slashing him across the cheek before shoving him to the ground with the heel of your boot.

"You don't fuckin' touch her!" you shouted, holding your weapon at the ready in case he got back up.

"Cmere!" Shane suddenly appeared, stepping over Ed's body and grabbing him by the shirt before landing a harsh punch on the man's eye.

Gasps echoed throughout the group as he beat on the man mercilessly, slamming hit after hit after hit after hit into his face meat.

Shoulders sinking slightly, you let out a quiet huff, sheathing your knife in the belt loop next to your crowbar as you stepped back to watch the show.

You weren't remorseful in the slightest.

Shane was doing what you'd been dreaming about for the longest.

Though, you could tell that things were going downhill fast as he kept his pace, not letting up as a minute went by.

'Shit.'

"Shane, stop!"

"Stop it!" 

"Just stop!"

"Ed!" Carol sobbed, having to be held up by Jacqui and Amy.

"He's limp, man," you sighed, crossing your arms over your chest. "Don't kill 'im in front of his wife."

Pausing a moment, Shane grabbed Ed by the face, leaning in nice and close.

"You put your hands on your wife, your little girl, or anybody else in this camp one more time, I will not stop next time. Do you hear me?  Do you hear me?!"

"Yesh..." Ed slurred, barely able to see.

"I'll beat you to death, Ed."

With that, Shane landed one final blow, before finally rising to his feet, sending a swift kick to Ed's stomach before storming off.

"Oh, Ed!" Carol cried, running to her husband's side with tears in her eyes. "Ed, I'm sorry!"

With a sharp huff, you turned to head back to the creek, plopping yourself back down on your rock and picking up your goose.

Shoulders tight, you glared down at the bird, roughly slicing off its down feathers.

'Charity... what a load of bullshit...'

[marzipanilla]

pff I've already forgotten tabs, friendships died with tabs, true friendship began with 'randomly remembered tidbit'

Forgot to mention this in the other convo- but Jasper has motivation and drive and an actual personality! I can see the smashy smash paralells w BB but BB literally has nothing else going on xD (and also a tangent off another thing bc I realized I forgot to say but a good post-beserker freak out IS great for a character lol)

Yeah Mark changing suits doesn't signify anything bc I don't feel like I know who he was! Plus, the suit change wasn't even his decision! it just. happens to him. like so many other things...

bc of watching JL show my brain was kinda gnawing at me to try and configure an Omni-Man + JL thing which I prolly wont do, but then it got me thinking about Nolan and Peter Parker (im aware they're different universes my comic knowledge isnt that bad lol) interacting and just the hilarity of Omni-Man deciding to absolutely FUCK w Spider-Man and like, help JJonah out- not just the JK Simmons connections for meta hilarity. just. most powerful man on planet deciding to fuck with this one particular guy. I'll get you pictures of spider-man : )

The 'They weren't promoted at work, turns out they were a supervillain' support group would be fucking amazing. What are the can't be called to testify against a spouse laws like in 'their spouse can turn into a pile of magma goo and kill everyone' world.

We kinda touched on it in the rogues gallery sidetrack- but fr, why couldn't we have more villains who fought against Omni-Man showing up??? did he just fucking kill all the people who ever went against him?? forget ppl coming after Mark bc screw your dad- what about people offering him a damn JOB bc wow that man sure did beat the shit out of me once, wait? he's evil?? any chance you're evil now too son ??? lol. that would be great. People not just being angry at Debbie but being TERRIFIED of her bc she was with the most powerful guy on the planet AND HE MIGHT COME BACK. you will tell him we were nice to you, future queen, right?? and her just having to be like I'M NOT A FUCKING SUPER VILLAIN !!

The fact Debbie refuses to move is so wild to me lol Give us a reason why that house is do goddamn important to her to justify why they don't want to design new backgrounds !! lol

Her just straight up starting to call him Mr Stedman bc FUCK if I am referring to you like a friend/colleague whatever the fuck. Her just full on NOT responding if he tries and calls her Debbie. She can't stop him but she can stop interacting like all his bs is normal. she can be a nuisance even if she can't be a threat.

I've thought but couldn't figure where to go with- the idea that she finds the GDA cameras instead of Nolan's bloody uniform when she was searching the house bc, wtf, are they using magi-tech nano cams or something?? she tore the house apart how did she not find anything!! I'm also super curious to know wtf the 'passive monitoring' looked like when that woman was about to jump off a bridge. would he have teleported down there if she was about to jump ??? an agent pop out of a car?? not do anything bc fuck it they were only watching the house??

I feel like their budget has def been squeezed SO tight. and it's just so sad. we'll always have S1, I guess.

While I'm not too familiar with the DCU- your batfam meta posts are intiguing- so in transfering some of the broader strokes from them- I think you tackling a 'Mark isn't Nolan's biological son' fic would be fascinating. Sort of a step to the side of the 'what if Mark never got his powers' fic that sometimes pop up in the fandom

OOOOOO chewing on this currently, hm, the much a distinct flavor of exactly what you’re talking about, but the potential for more family drama depending on WHO knows. Does Mark know?? Is he waiting every day only to be crushed? Does he confused non-Debbie features with Nolan’s? I suppose I’m not the most enthusiastic about non-power AUs, but I think there’s something very fun to explore about Mark having to settle with, if he knows all his life, he will never have powers? I think the trajectory of his dreams will obviously shift, I can see him still having that distinct fatherly idolization, but perhaps embraces being useful to the GDA? Cecil’s number one intern—only intern—curtesy of nepotism, ha! There is something tickling me about Mark taking the Robin Route/Role for the Teen Team in terms of having no powers, just insane skills, BUT there’s something way more delicious about intern Mark when s1e01 happens and Mark tries snooping around to find out the truth about what happened to his Dad.

I wonder if, with Mark having a whole another father, if they’re more or less distant relationship, depending on WHEN Nolan entered Mark’s life? Like if Debbie met Nolan later for this, or just for fun, they dated once, separated (Mark being born during then), then they happened to stumble into each others lives again and Mark’s already been born, anywhere from tween to teenager so there’s a gap in how close they are. I feel like one important aspect of the whole Family Drama is how close they’re supposed to be, a functional, loving family turned upside down? So I wonder what more distance does. I wonder how Nolan copes when his family is entirely human and he can’t project onto Mark.

I love thinking about these, omg.

[idiosyncraticrednebula]

There are few things in this world that are more despicable and reprehensible than mainstream media.

[atom-bomb-baby]

.

[ifeelfreewithoutmyshoes]

My flatmate said something stupid as he’s prone to do but this time two new girls have moved in and they went for the kill arguing with him about it, no mercy

[swagging-back-to]

one of the biggest things that makes me annoyed with connie is just... well everything. but her choosing to spend every second of every day 'studying for college' when shes barely even 15 pisses me off soooo fucking much.

literally abandons every and everything else to sit and study with only 5-10 minute breaks. for college. that she isn't even in yet.

[keets-writing-corner]

Thinking a LOT about Lucifer in the latest Hazbin episode. Idk what I was expecting but not this??

As I was watching my immediate thought was just "huh... Lucifer is kinda of weird..." but as the episode went on I realized the issue

the dude is off the chain depressed, like he says it as a joke but holy cow it is SO BAD

He's manically just creating rubber ducks cuz his daughter really like it that one time but it's empty, it's never good enough but he keeps doing it, maybe cuz he doesn't know how to pass the time otherwise.

like I get the feeling he HAS better things he SHOULD be doing than making rubber duck after rubber duck. At first I was like, "Bruh why isn't the king of hell doing anything?" aaaaand then it became clear...

The dude is disassociating so bad he can barely hold a conversation let alone remember information. He clearly WANTS to, he wants to be involved with his daughter so bad, he wants to care about the things she's doing so bad, but his depression keeps interfering. It's like he can only hear every other word and he grasps onto the ones he does hear semi-out of context. Like you can see every time he catches something that he hadn't before and he just "well shit I didn't catch that part"

and that's why he reacts so weird when people talk to him. He is struggling so bad to engage with the conversation he's only getting 50% of it

does that look like the face of a man who knows what the hell the conversation is even about??? he is STRUGGLING

like Charlie spent so long telling him about the hotel, and he STILL didn't understand what she wanted. Yeah it comes off as ditzy but literally I've been in that position where your brain just "nope, not doing this right now" and nerfs your conversation comprehension. So as someone who's BEEN in that position, to me it feels exactly like what he's dealing with. He's sorta engaged with the conversation, but only as much as his brain will allow

For example, when I'm dealing with this, this is what someone talking to me feels like this where the crossed out parts are what I missed and bold is what I catch, "Hey! You know I was thinking for dinner we could either make some chicken with rice? But if you don't feel like cooking, pasta is super easy and you love that right? What do you want to do?" you can kinda get that someone is trying to talk to you about dinner, and towards the end you get the impression that they asked something that needs your input so you can decently put 2 and 2 together and try and pass off, but crucial bits were left out, I would have no idea that either chicken or pasta is in the conversation only having heard "rice". When someone is just talking at me, I can decently pass off as being engaged but the second I'm required to participate in the conversation I'm screwed. Seem familiar? At which point I have 2 options, try to give a bullshit answer, or admit that I missed what they were saying and ask them to repeat

Lucifer, unfortunately, is trying so damn hard to hide that he's dealing with like 24/7 dissociation, so he can't admit that he's missing entire chunks of the conversation, hence his really weird replies. He does eventually get the full picture and then he and Charlie start having the real conversation

Also, the Alastor/Lucifer rivalry was hilarious but also really indicative of more of what Lucifer is dealing with

Alastor is, unfortunately, really good at picking up people's insecurities, and thanks to Charlie's description earlier and watching Lucifer clearly trying to overcompensate, he immediately picks up on the fact that Lucifer KNOWS he struggles to be a good dad (we know cuz it's cuz of the depression, hard to be engaged when your brain keeps turning off) and decides to rub salt in the wound by pretending he's been acting as a surrogate father to Charlie. Now why Alastor decided to pick a fight with the king of hell is beyond me, I do not understand Alastor (and I LIKE IT) (maybe it's cuz Alastor thinks he's hot shit and was expecting Lucifer to at least have heard of him but Lucifer just treats him like a nobody? who knows)(why would Lucifer listen to radio anyways when he can't even pay attention to a conversation it'd just be white noise)

But yeah I just was expecting someone who oozed either charisma or presence and instead I got a depressed dad who's dissociating so bad he can barely function and be present in his life. The only thing it seems he CAN do is make rubber ducks cuz his daughter really liked it that one time

Idk Lucifer is tragic to me. Whatever the full details of what heavan did to him absolutely broke him and he can't deal with it. He's aware of it, and he doesn't know how to fix it, so he tries to over compensate and sorta makes an ass out of himself but no one says or does anything cuz this guy is supposed to be THE king of hell

Suddenly it's making a lot more sense why he just rolls over and lets heaven do what it wants and even told Charlie to go in his place the start of the show. He's not in any headspace to hold a basic conversation let alone negotiate! He didn't even know who Alastor was, he's been so out of touch

idk I like him, he seems sweet, I hope Charlie brings some light back into his life. He really needs to get out of that rubber duck room

[gothgoblinbabe]

She Wolf

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

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

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

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

divider credit here

“Are you ever gonna tell him?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nah, definitely not my type of girl.”

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

Definitely not my type of girl. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Only one way to find out.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───────♡──────────────♡───────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey, you wanna dance?”

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

“Sure, why not?”

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

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

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

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

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

“Ironic,” you muttered under the music.

───────♡──────────────♡───────

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

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

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

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

“No.”

“Yup.”

“Nope.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” Logan furrowed his eyebrows.

She pointed across the room and he followed her gaze.

There's a she wolf in the closet

Open up and set it free 

There's a she wolf in your closet

Let it out so it can breathe

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

And you were with a guy.

Sitting across a bar, staring right at her prey

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

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

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

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

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

Not looking for cute little divos or rich city guys

I just want to enjoy 

By having a very good time

And behave very bad in the arms of a boy

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

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

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

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

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

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

There's a she wolf in disguise

Coming out, coming out, coming out

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

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

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

There's a she wolf in the closet

Let it out so it can breathe

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What was that? You’re welcome - “ 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You hugged her back.

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

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

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

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

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

You understood what she meant immediately. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And I can’t want it either?”

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

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

“What’s going on with you?”

“Leave me be.”

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

“Logan.”

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

“Move.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why do you care?” 

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

“Stop.” 

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

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

“I didn’t mean that.”

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

“I’m not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It worked, are you happy?”

“No, I’m not - “

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Save me the trouble of what?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Logan.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

After a moment of tense silence, he spoke again.

“Did it work?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Can I kiss you?”

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

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

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

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

“Agreed.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please what, baby?”

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

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

“Can I take this off you, baby?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It was Scott.

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

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

“You sure?”

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

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

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

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

“Logan, I’m - “

“C’mon, pretty girl, c’mon.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re into pain, huh?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded eagerly, scratching at his lower back. 

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

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

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

“Feels good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bite me.”

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

“Please.”

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

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

“Please.”

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

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

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

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

“Want me to stay?”

“Mhm - please.”

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

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

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

“Really?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You can make it up to me some more.”

───────♡──────────────♡───────

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

[centipedve]

annoyed forever & always by people who ask for "more woman authors" like !! women have very consistently been in the majority for the last decade at the very least when it comes to author demographics. what you need to show us is some sort of proof that women get worse offers or less readership on average or something! because raw author demographics are very obviously not the issue!

[hello-sweetheart]

Neat Freak

Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.

He’s a neat freak.

When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.

Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.

Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.

But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.

Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.

The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.

Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.

His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.

Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.

“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”

“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(

He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.

“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”

“I DID THREE.”

“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”

When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.

He just loves cleaning, okay?

Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.

When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.

It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.

“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.

“Fuck off.”

[thebibliosphere]

Speaking of therapy, I say, as though we're old friends, and you're not a stranger trapped in this metaphorical elevator with me and you can hear the suspension wires starting to fray.

I've been doing a lot of work recently that's focused on imposter syndrome and the feeling that no matter how well or how much I do, I'm not good enough. That I'm somehow tricking everyone into thinking my work is actually good.

Some days it's a minor niggle in my head that I can gentle and soothe with logic and affirmations. Or smother, depending on the mood. Other times it's loud and all-consuming and the mental anguish it causes me is so real I can feel it twitching in my muscles. This desperate fight-or-flight instinct with nowhere to go and nothing to fight but myself.

Anyway, because I'm several types of Mentally Unwell™, I was switching between workshop sheets ahead of next week. Filling in different forms. (Trying to get a good grade in therapy) And I got my "recognize your harmful ADHD coping mechanisms" worksheet mixed in with the "you're not actually lying to people, you just feel like you are because your brain is full of weasels" worksheet, and seeing them side by side made something go topsy turvy in my head, and I just had to sit and breathe for a couple of minutes until the urge to scream passed. Because it clicked, it all suddenly clicked.

The reason the imposter syndrome workshops and therapy sessions aren't sticking was because I do routinely trick people into thinking I'm someone I'm not.

Because I'm masking my ADHD for their convenience.

I've always known there was something wrong with me. My neurotypical peers made it abundantly clear I didn't fit in or was failing in some way I couldn't see nor remedy, no matter how hard I tried.

So I compressed myself into a workaholic box of hyper-competence in the hopes they'd stop noticing the flaws and exploit like me instead. And then subsequently lived with the daily fear that if they looked too close, they'd realize I'm a monumental fuck up with enough personal baggage to block the Suez Canal.

If you ever need someone to burn themselves to ashes for your comfort and convenience, I'm your gal.

Or I used to. Until I had a bit of a breakdown, and the rubber band holding my brain together snapped and pinged off into the stratosphere, never to be seen again.

Unfortunately, the trauma of living like that didn't also fuck off and instead left a gaping maw where my personality ought to be, so now I get to deal with that aftermath.

And it's that aftermath that's affecting the imposter syndrome shit. Because yes, I am hyper-competent and good at what I do-- but it doesn't feel real because that is how I mask.

And the truly frustrating thing is I am good at what I do. I am not pretending. I worked hard to be good at this. It just feels like I'm dicking around because 90% of my personality turns out to be trauma masquerading as humor in a trenchcoat, and having people genuinely like something weird I'm doing is so foreign my brain has decided it's just another form of masking.

I'm pretending to be a good author so people will think I'm a good author, and my brain thinks we are in Danger of being found out. We are in Danger, and writing is Dangerous because then people will know I'm Weird and not whatever palatable version I've presented myself as for their NT sensibilities.

Like the neurotic vampire with a raging praise kink wasn't an obvious giveaway.

Anyway. I got nothing else. Thanks for listening.

I'm going to go be very normal in another room and not stare into the abyss of my own soul for a bit.

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [11]

Vlad is planning something big, something powerful and he’s using his wealth and connections to make it happen. Danny realizes that his parents' tech and his friend's aid isn’t going to cut it, and brute forcing the matter as Phantom is just going to ruin his reputation permanently.

What he needs is another different fruitloop, and thankfully for him the world is pretty damn full of them.

but he needs a very specific fruitloop, the one with a big company, advanced high end tech, so much money they don’t really know what to do with it and preferably they gotta be an absent figure, because Danny is on a mission, he’s not looking to get a new parent (he has his own)

and after some searching he finds his guy

Oliver Queen

Now he just needs to get in on that, and he decides to do that by using what little he managed to remember from Vlad’s “you will be the heir of Dalv,co” rants and Sam’s ideas on environmentalism. cause Queen apparently cares a lot about giving back to the little guy.

Which is great! very important, even if his business kinda suffers from how he goes about it (but Danny can help with that! somehow! he’ll figure it out, can’t be that hard) 

We can’t all be Brucie Wayne, but we certainly can try.  

So anyway, shouldn’t be too hard, he’s got some history in the field of environment stuff what with the whole purple back gorilla thing.

and Ollie takes one good look at this smart enthusiastic black haired blue eyed teen and is like, “oh neat! my very own Tim Drake Wayne” and he just goes with it.

Danny’s hidden power of drawing in rich people is truly something to behold…

Oliver is more than happy to just let Danny do whatever he wants as long as it doesn’t break the law or look bad on him, and no drugs, he was very clear on that.

and Danny is like great, I can now work on undermining Vlad and ruin his plans!

but then… Dinah…

“Oliver Jonas Queen!”

oh shit, full named…

“You are not going to do a repeat of Roy!”

Dinah is very effective, and the whole thing starts small enough.

Oliver personally shows him around in the company, makes sure to introduce him to the important folks.

that evolves into occasionally checking up on him, making sure he takes the appropriate amount of breaks.

then he takes him to a baseball match, he had multiple tickets… would have been a waste to refuse.

Then Dinah insists he tags along for dinner in a restaurant (there were some others, it was actually not awkward at all somehow, quite nice really), this grows into dinner at the penthouse.

It's when Oliver expresses the desire to teach Danny archery, telling him there are a lot of things in the sport that are also applicable to business stuff that Danny comes to a sudden and violent realization.

He's being parented!

[gojosprettyprincess]

RAISE <3

Synopsis - You were going through a really tough time and needed more money so you asked your boss Nanami for a raise but it seems like he has something else in mind. Not proofread

“Fuck look at you clenching around my cock like a fucking slut". He groans loudly as he uses his pure strength to bounce you on his cock like a ragdoll.

"You dirty fucking whore bet you'll do anything for money wouldn't you?”. He snickered, chuckling while he lets out a low “fuck”

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were going through a really rough time and struggling with money for the past few days, and you'd hoped your sweet boss Kento would understand what you were going through and give you a raise even if it's something small, after all, he's a Jujutsu sorcerer, that man makes more money then you ever will in your whole life. But it seems like he had something else in mind.

And that's how you end up in the situation you're in right now, in your Boss's office. His cock nested into your tiny wet cunny, thrusting himself in and you of you, his angry leaky tip hitting your poor cervix with deep ecstasy as he trails wet kisses on your neck.

"You have no idea how fucking long I've been hah—waiting for this" he whispers against your neck, sending literal chills down your spine.

"Always walking around in those tiny fucking skirts, it's like you were begging to get fucked. Shit you always look so fucking hot, always making my dick hard".

You were really surprised by that, Nanami was always really nice to you, nice to everyone actually, always smiling at them and asking about their day, he’d get everyone coffee and pastries in the morning he was just super nice and sweet. This side of him was very unexpected. What's even more unexpected was the fact that he wanted you.

"Wha—what??" You asked confused, your eyes widenings

"We shouldn't be doing this sir!" you squeaked.

"But you wanted a raise, didn't you? Well, you're going to fucking get it" he groans as he picks up the pace fucking his cock into your pussy from below as you wrap your arms around his broad shoulders for dear life.

He hugs your frame, your breast against his hard chest as his arms tighten around you, he starts ramming his cock into your cunt at a faster pace, his cock brushing against your g spot with each roll of his hips while he's stretches you open.

“Fuck Ken, It's s'big" you moaned loudly, as if they aren't other people in the next room that could hear, feeling completely split apart around his cock, he was so big, the biggest you've ever had.

“You’re so fucking loud” he grunts as he lands a harsh smack on your plush ass that definitely left his handprint, “Fuck, you want everyone to know how much of a fucking slut you are clenching around my dick like this, don’t you”.

“Tell me how much you fucking love my cock you filthy bitch.”

"Lo—love it s'much” you try your best to make out. Feeling fucked out as ever.

"Fuck, have I really fucked you dumb already that you can't even form a proper sentence?" he groans while laughing. "You’re gonna have to do better than that princess."

"Your cock feels so good inside of me daddy, it's s'big!" you cried out, feeling his cock twitching inside of you.

"Good fucking girl, Hah—Fuck, that’s what I like to hear, you're gonna make me cum darling".

"You’re going to be so fucking full after I'm done with you."

Your eyes widen with the realization of what he meant. "N-no not inside, please"

"What about that raise princess? Don't fucking make me change my mind, I'm gonna fill your slutty cunt with all my cum and you're going to fucking take it" he stands up with him still inside of you as he places you flat on his desk, your legs hanging over his shoulders as he continues thrusting his massive cock into your gushing wet cunt, your slick dripping down to your asshole, ruining the freshly printed papers from below.

"Hah—Oh fuckk" he moans, slamming his cock into you at an impossible pace, his nails digging deep into your soft thighs as you looked up in horror at what he's about to do "Fucking take it bitch."

You felt his release spurting inside of your pussy, filling you up and causing your eyes to roll at the back of your head. His cock twitches inside of you nonstop, his head falling back as he slowly began pulling out, watching as his cum gushes out of your ruined pussy, dripping down on your asshole onto the desk you were planted on. A small puddle appears beneath you. You were completely fucked out, trying your best to regain your breath as you look up at him.

He slaps his cock against your soaking cunt, groaning as the cum splatters on him. "You like being filled, don't you? You better get used to this if you want to get paid more or maybe you can just be my little office slut, getting paid to Cock warm me all fucking day”.