#that's the way people would prefer to do it rather than getting to the root

[medicinemane]

You can't just be like "well my chart here says" or "well science says" or "well this thing agrees with my biases so therefore it's true"

Like man, I bet I could find something agreeing with any position I wanted to take. If I couldn't it wouldn't be hard for me to make a semi professional looking graph that makes it look like whatever I want is true

Also like... who's the source man, cause on any given issue there's some I'm probably gonna toss out because of their blatant bias. Like I'm not even gonna entertain anything 'autism speaks' has to say on autism because I'm not wading through a bunch of trash to see if there's a glimmer of truth buried somewhere in it. They've blown all their credibility with me, I don't admit them as evidence anymore and nor should I

So who's your source and do they have any credibility or are they extremely biased (cause... this happens a lot)?

What's this so called study? What's this so called science? I am not really the person who can sit through a whole paper, but I can at least sometimes give them a sniff and see if the stuff they're saying seems to add up or if I'm spotting anything instantly off (cause sometimes you straight up look and go "wait a minute... you didn't even account for this")

I'm not perfect, but at least I actually think about the problems with ideas I care about. Like with nuclear I know that the lack of economies of scale means infrastructure is going to be more expensive, but I can also at least point to solar and point out that it was the same with it, but once we got wider adoption prices started to really drop

At least I can think about my point and make actual reasonable inferences and conclusions rather than just blindly screaming at everyone to agree with me or they're immoral

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - non/con, unbalanced power dynamics, obsessive/possessive behavior, and manipulation.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's the best security you could possibly ask for. You've been told that hybrids aren't very good for protection, that you'd be better off just getting a regular dog or, better yet, not living alone in one of the sketchier neighborhoods of a notoriously unsafe city, but those people haven't meant your Kento. Stern, stoic, and loyal - he keeps you safe, helps around the house, and doesn't need (or want, for that matter) half of the attention a normal dog would need. Really, it's more like having a personal bodyguard than a pet. You're sure he'd prefer if it if you treated him more like the former than the latter, too.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who'd practically be human if it wasn't for the adorably pointed ears on top of his head, the wiry tail at the base of his spine, and the dull canines you sometimes catch a glimpse of during one of his rare smiles. It's clear that he doesn't consider himself to be like most hybrids, so you do your best to treat him like a roommate - giving him his space, making sure he has his privacy, constantly resisting the urge to run your hands through his hair and apologizing profusely when you inevitably fail. He claims he doesn't mind, not if it's you, but you've seen the way his lips curl when strangers so much as approach him, how he rolls his eyes when he sees other hybrids sitting on their owners' laps or begging for treats. You're not eager to get on his bad side, even if you do occasionally catch him slipping into your bed in the middle of the night.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's mistaken for your boyfriend at least once a week. It's your own fault, really. He likes to walk you to work, run errands while you're away, all the things a stay-at-home boyfriend would usually do if he were as loving and as attentive as Nanami. It's always embarrassing, even if all you have to do is nod to one of his less-than-human features to clear up the misunderstanding. Still, it happens so often, and you're not proud to admit that from time to time, you don't have the energy to do anything but smile and nod when your elderly neighbor compliments the 'hunk of a man' living with you.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who's less naturally protective than you think he is. He's concerned with your safety, of course, but that's not a privilege that extends to the male coworkers he catches with a hand on the small of your back, to the friends who drag you out of your shared apartment and don't bring you back until the early hours of the morning. He spends more nights than he's proud of standing outside of your bedroom door, listening for any signs of life, waiting for an intruder, or a nightmare - any excuse to cross that unspoken boundary. It'd be more practical to spend his nights on the foot of your bed like every other drooling, filthy mutt hybrid, but that's not the kind of relationship he wants to have with you. Not if you have to think of him as a dog to get there.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who has to fuck his fist three times a day to offset his humiliating instincts. He tried for complete abstinence at first, not to think about you in that context at all, but there's only so many hours of his day he can spend with his knot pressed into his stomach, his cock twitching every time you bend over or brush against him. Still, it's far from a long-term solution. How could it be, when he still cums untouched every time you scratch the base of his ears?

Guard Dog!Nanami, who volunteers to take care of your household chores so he'll have an excuse to root through your laundry while you're away. He's surprised you haven't noticed just how much of your underwear mysteriously vanishes with every load, but even if you were less oblivious, he'd rather you be suspicious of him than ever find the hoard of tattered, stained, ruined fabric he keeps underneath his mattress.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows this can't go on for much longer. He loves you, and he respects you, and he knows that you'll never really see him as anything more than a pet, but he's can't seem to bring himself to see you as a master. And, when he's walking you home late at night after yet another unplanned bar crawl, when he's listening to you whine half-coherently about how hard it is to live with a hybrid that's so close to human, he may pass a darkened alleyway and listen to the long-buried, animalistic mind urging Nanami to claim what belongs to him.

Guard Dog!Nanami, who knows that you'll never make a very good master and he'll never make a very good pet. But, that doesn't mean he can't hope that you'll both be better off after your roles are reversed.

[winterspellsfrozenkit]

Maomao's Dislike of Jinshi

So I've been watching Apothecary Diaries and I think people are missing out on the root cause of why Maomao doesn't like Jinshi's interactions with her. It's not because he's too pretty, of high standing, or because she thinks he's annoying/etc., as they're just parts that make up the actual root cause. It's because she knows he's being fake.

Jinshi, because of who he is, where he lives, and how he was raised, covers up his true intentions almost constantly. That was how he trapped Maomao and singled her out as the one who warned Concubine Gyokuyou, after all. The premise to get all the servants in the room, the note telling her to stay put, and making her come with him without telling her where they were going? He let her worry that she was in trouble, so to keep her off-balance when he introduced her to Gyokuyou and also had kept her note to keep her pinned in a corner so she would have to comply with what he and Gyokuyou wanted.

Maomao prefers working with honest people. It's why she never wanted to ascend into the ranks where court politics were a constant presence, because in court politics, you have to assume most people are lying to you on some level. That's why she likes Gyokuyou; Gyokuyou has a similar mentality about the importance of honesty in the people around her and she reciprocates that honesty with the select people she lets her walls down around. When Jinshi is flirting or being super sweet to someone, Maomao knows he's often not being sincere, so when he flirts or acts all sweet with her, she's not going to believe in the sincerity of it because it's dangerous for her if he's not being sincere.

In Maomao's world, a man who makes false promises will not have severe consequences for his actions, unlike the women who fall for them. Growing up where she did and doing the work she did, Maomao knows exactly what kind of damage someone else's lies can bring to someone else who got caught in them. Maomao is not blind to the ugly truths of the world around her, unlike many her age, so interacting with Jinshi, someone who is usually some level of false in almost every encounter with her, is frustrating to her and he won't leave her alone. Lies are a form of poison themselves as they deteriorate a person's life and relationships and if not caught, can lead someone to their death or a fate akin to death, but unlike physical toxins, Maomao can't fix any damage from that kind of societal poison. As someone who wants a lowkey and unremarkable life because it's more peaceful, Jinshi could damage her goals with his falsehoods if she falls for any of them.

And we see that when Jinshi is actually honest about himself and his feelings with her, she treats him better. When he gives her his hairpin, when he's hugging her and crying because of what happened with Ah-Duo, and when he's at the Verdigris House, drowning his sorrows over letting Maomao go from the Rear Palace, Maomao is kinder to him and doesn't look at him with the immediate disdain and suspicion she often throws his way. Maomao even states she prefers the Jinshi, who is more childlike and bratty, which is something we see Gaoshun constantly discourage when Jinshi has those moments where his mask breaks. But in those moments, he's being honest.

For the position of Maomao's love interest, Jinshi's already got one foot ahead of any other guy around Maomao, as he is willing to let Maomao have more freedom in her special interests and gives her things and access to areas that play into her interests, like her dad does, which is more than most men in her society would ever allow. The only reason he actively goes against her toying with poison is he knows exactly what she's going to do with the poisons. But his main hinderance to getting Maomao to like him back is the training of being two-faced that's been ingrained into him for his survival in court. If he was more honest with her, rather than hiding himself under the veneer of a pretty man who is sweet, gets along with everyone, and keeps his knowledge close to the chest, he'd do so much better in earning Maomao's respect and affection.

[beta-therapy]

How to Deal with Sadness/Frustration from Rejection

We’ve all been there. We’ve all had a crush on a beautiful woman and wanted to give her the world, only to find out she has no sexual interest in us. Maybe she puts you in the friendzone; or maybe she makes it clear she wants nothing to do with you at all. It’s normal to feel frustrated in these situations, knowing that she probably has a vibrant sex life with other men, yet doesn’t have any sexual interest toward you.

When this happens over and over again, it can make us question our own self-worth: how come so many women have decided that sex is an activity which is off-limits to me? Do my sexual needs not matter? How come a woman can be salivating with excitement as she begs certain men to engage her in the most personal of ways—whereas with me, so much as asking if she’s single gets me permanently labelled as a creep?

As society becomes more and more accepting of personal freedoms, (especially regarding women) like allowing people to dress how they want, freely express themselves, do what they want in their own bedroom, etc., there indeed looms an increasing mental health crisis among those men who don’t get included in all the sexual fun. They can feel inferior and isolated. In this blog, I’ll discuss how to handle these emotions.

Although it might bring you feelings of shame, insecurity, and jealousy to find out that women consider you unsuitable for sex, it is important to understand that these feelings are rooted in misogyny. It is an outdated, oppressive idea that the goal of a man’s life is to acquire dominance, status, power, and wealth; and use this prestige to seduce beautiful women. This idea is so evil because it views women as beauty objects rather than equal human beings. Women are not trophies.

Women are full human beings with no less intelligence, leadership abilities, creativity, and dignity than the men who forced them to be quiet and submissive for all human history. A lot of men still refuse to acknowledge this today. They want to keep seeing women as less intelligent, less capable, submissive homemakers whose value comes from their sexual beauty.

That sexy woman you know probably does have a passionate sex life, but you should strive to admire her as a person: smart, strong, kind, witty, dignified. She can still have all these great qualities to her even if she has zero sexual interest in you. Considering her a “sexy woman” is—in and of itself—toxic masculinity at work. Why is “sexy” the first trait that comes to your mind when it’s clear that her sex life is off-limits to you? Maybe she is sexually submissive in her bedroom, but why should that concern you? She’s allowed to explore the “feminine” part of her existence in her private life without it subtracting from her value as an interesting, fascinating person in her public life.

You can still be a happy, nice, and fulfilled person even if all the women around you would prefer not to have sex with you. Just because the female community around you doesn’t want you as a sexual/romantic person, doesn’t mean you have been rejected as a person entirely. Sexuality is just one component of the human experience, and it’s very common throughout history for people to be deprived of it.

We have evolved for survival and reproduction, not necessarily to have good morals and be happy. For example, racism is part of our DNA. In prehistoric times, racism helped us stay away from warring tribes, so it was positively selected-for with respect to evolution. But in modern times, we can recognize that racism is a huge problem if we want an inclusive, happy society, and so we must actively denounce this artifact of our DNA.

Our sexuality is much the same way. Throughout history, the evil, abusive, tyrant was always better able to protect his children due to his status and wealth, in comparison to the poor, harmless, gentle, and caring man. That doesn’t mean the evil tyrant was a better person, but it does unfortunately mean that women would evolve a sexual attraction toward higher status, dominant men even if it meant overlooking their moral evil.

As a result, the things women are sexually attracted to are not necessarily the things that are good. You can take solace in this fact. Being sexually undesired by women does not mean there’s something wrong with you, it just means they see you as more harmless and submissive rather than powerful and dangerous.

[internetprincess420]

what the gom+kagami like to do with you in their free time

cw:boobs mention (aomine), gn!reader, not proofread

tetsuya kuroko

- you guys take #2 to the dog park and get food to eat on the park bench

- during the holidays, you and tetsuya will volunteer at animal shelters and elderly homes

- you bring #2 to the elderly homes to let the seniors play with him

- you also bring snacks and cards for them

- tetsuya is someone i see as very nurturing and giving and i think he’s the type of person to want to give to others in his free time

- he LOVES going to cat cafes

- however, he also sees your time alone as important too

- you guys will have all day movie marathons at home

- you and tetsuya like to go to the library together and help tutor the young kids

ryota kise

- i think ryotas favorite thing to do in his off time is to go to the arcade with you

- it’s canon that he uses his perfect copy in games like ddr, so i think he likes to challenge you in ddr battles and karaoke sing-offs

- he also loves the arcades that serve food and will always order fried pickles or cheese fries with something ridiculous to drink like a seasonal mountain dew or root beer (root beer hater for LIFE)

- his default karaoke song is definitely it’s a wrap by mariah carey

- i like the think he frequents the arcade so much that the employees know him by name

- i also think he likes to take you to the mall and just walk around

- he also LOVES to gossip when you guys are walking around and see people from school

- “y/n you won’t believe what i heard about that guy..”

- and he definitely says it way too loud too

daiki aomine

- the way to his heart is through his stomach (and your chest)

- i fully believe and support the theory that his perfect day off is going to eat some junk and having his head in between your breasts

- daiki is quite chill and easy going, so i think he prefers to spend his off time at home on the couch rather than doing anything that requires any thinking on his part

- if you order some burgers and put on a cheesy anime he will probably never want to leave

- however, if you want to go out and do something he is more than willing to go to make you happy

- i don’t think he’d protest, but i do think he’d say something like “are you sure you want to go out? the couch is so comfy and we can cuddle~~~~”

- if he does have to go out, he likes to go to the movie theatre with you

- tries to squeeze your tits in the dark cinema 😭

- i believe daiki hates spending money but loves to spend money if it’s on you

seijuro akashi

- it’s canon that seijuro does horse riding and likes to do it on his days off so i think that he would love to teach you to ride horses and ride together

- we all know seijuro is extra af so i also think he’d get you the best riding gear and equipment, as well as the best lessons money can buy

- once you finally know how to properly ride horses, he would love to just ride out in the country together

- he loves a good opportunity to spend quality time with you and talk to you at the same time

- he would bring food for a picnic out in the country side

- he loves to hear you talk, so tell him about anything and everything and he will be entertained

- seijuro also loves to go on light walks/jogs with you

- i genuinely think his love language is quality time don’t ask me why it just is

shintaro midorima

- shintaros favorite thing to do with you is to go to the shops and browse

- this might also be a stretch, but i think shintaro likes to travel with you

- like not far but just small day trips that are a couple of hours away

- he loves to go to the spas and sit in saunas with you

- shintaro is a guy that puts self care first for both of you

- after the spa day, you guys go to whatever little local gift shops you can find and just look around all day

- i also think shintaro likes you buy you things, but more specifically he likes to buy you something special from every place you’ve been together

- when you guys get home he’s a straight to bed and cuddle kind of guy

atsushi murasakibara

- he prefers to be in the comfort of his or your home on his days off

- i think that because he’s so big and his body uses so much energy all the time he would want to do something where he can rest his body

- thus his favorite thing to do with you in his off time is sleep

- that’s it

- just sleep

- i think he prefers to go to your house and sleep only because his family is so big

- and he likes the way your sheets smell

- i think if you know he’s going to come over then you go the extra mile

- i’m talking matching pjs, lavender scented everything, sleep masks, candles, etc

- and ofc his favorite snacks

- if he HAS to do something, he will bake or cook with you

taiga kagami

- his favorite activity to do with you in his free time is to go to whatever beach is near and have a beach day

- first he likes to see you in a bikini (or whatever you prefer to wear)

- (yes i canon taiga as a secret horndog what about it..)

- he also wants to get burgers after

- he loves to build sand castles with you but he always messes them up on accident

- don’t talk for him for at least 10 minutes after he destroys it. he’s so sad.

- he makes you take pics of him surfing to post

- “no please y/n it’s gonna look so cool please”

- taiga is one of those people that intentionally scares kids at the beach by like randomly chasing them and barking

[doberbutts]

you don't actually get to cry "ally yourself with trans women" while actively talking over trans women whose traumatic experiences with transmisogyny are wildly ignored in favor of how hard transmisogyny is on the cis women. like why don't trans women get to say privilege plays into how much transmisogyny affects people?

do we not characterize white privilege as being what protects white americans from the systematic racism that permeates the US?

again, what is the preferred way you would have us refer to that privilege? because I am right here telling you that privilege is a part of the construct of tme/tma but you don't really care that trans women are more affected.

like it's crazy that you seem to think my problem is with the transvestigation playing out against a cis woman and not the way everyone pays attention when it happens to cis women but ignores the rampant transmisogyny when it happens to a trans woman. like you don't even pause to look at why there were no trans women at the olympics to transvestigate in the first place so they turned to the next marginalized option, intersex and women of color, when discussing how trans women deserve better.

Hi I'm the trans woman I deserve better from you specifically

To be completely honest this is looking less and less like a good faith discussion and more and more like you simply accusing me of stuff I didn't say.

You say I am actively talking over trans women. How so? How is "we need to address transmisogyny at its root if we want things to be better" ignoring the plight of trans women?

How is it that I have *repeatedly* acknowledged that there is privilege there, and yet apparently I am ignoring it?

if you want to use the race example: white privilege exists. Racism also affects white people. If white people want to stop being affected by racism (welfare regulations, the war on drugs, low income housing, social programs for community aid, to name a few) then maybe they should ally themselves with people of color because the root of what's causing issues with these things is racism. That doesn't mean white privilege doesn't exist just because a system of oppression affects everyone under said system. It doesn't even mean that the primary target has changed. It's just what makes this a system rather than an individual occurrence.

Never once have I said that cis women are more affected and, in fact, in followup posts I have stated that it *is* quite annoying that people have only been talking about this because this year's Olympics included approximately 0 out trans women. I have been saying that this was the clear end result, once they were rid of the trans women they'd go for whatever cis women they could feasibly get away with, and this time it seems they overplayed their hand.

Castor Semenya is a cis woman who only found out that she is intersex due to being transvestigated. She is, by definition, TME. Except she's not, is she, considering the same rules that apply to trans women apply to her. That's why I brought her up! And- correct me if I'm wrong- but out trans women still competed after she was forced to leave the Olympic running. That is why I'm saying that things maybe are not quite so clear cut as "have" and "have not", because I can point to an example of someone that the definition labels as "has privilege" that according to Olympic ruling bodies no longer counts as a woman either despite being afab TME cis.

If you want to continue to put words in my mouth, then we're out of things to say to each other, and it becomes clear that this was never intended to be a good faith discussion in the first place.

[bumpkinspice0]

No One Knows the Trouble, Honey, That We've Been Through 1/3

Logan Howlett/ Wolverine x Mutant!FemReader

Chapter Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You're an X-Man... well, you used to be. You left years ago, and in the aftermath of an attack on X-Mansion, Charles has asked you back to help repair the damage to the estate. An easy job for an earthmover like yourself. Still, after years away from your old home, you feel like a stranger again. So much has changed and you're not sure where you fit in anymore. The newest X-Men member isn't helping your mood either. You're not sure where they found Logan, and you're still trying to figure out what to think of him. The mans barely said anything to you. He's not the typical stray Charles would take in, but then again, neither were you when he brought you here.

AN: Like everyone else, my Wolverine obsession has also re-awoken. So I made a quick little 3 part fic to cope with it. Let's see if I can rest now This leans into the movie-verse of the x-men (He's tall because Hugh Jackman is tall lol) but I think I wrote it in such a way that you can imagine it in whatever version of the x-men you like best. Warnings: Emotional baggage, fluff, angst, self-doubt, anger issues?, alcohol, getting drunk, flirting, Logan is drunk babysitter, this is a little corny but I don't care, eventual smut

Series Masterlist

Part 2. Part 3

AO3 if you prefer to read there

_______

Stepping on the soil of the Xavier estate felt odd in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like standing on hallowed ground you’re unworthy of being on. Funny, years ago you only knew it as home. Now you’re just a stranger to the rocks beneath your feet. Still, Charles asked you back. He asked for your help.

The grounds around X-Mansion were unrecognizable.

They were decimated in this latest attack. Storm assured you all the children got out safely, thank god. The estate took all the damage. The house had been rebuilt but the surrounding lands were… rough. Ripped-up roots and protruding rocks where gardens and trees once stood. The walls of the mansion were now bare of its usual sprawling ivy, freshly reconstructed for probably the dozenth time in its life— another failed attack from another ignorant enemy. 

You look at the destroyed earth around you, the real reason you were here. This is why he called you.

Soil, dirt, and rocks were where your powers lie. You could move the earth itself, sense the minerals beneath your feet, see the world around you through the touch of stone. Dozer your friends called you when you first came here— short for Bulldozer . You always hated it but it’s unfortunately the name that stuck. Now it’s just… part of you.

You weren’t the best student. You were angry when you came here at the ripe age of 13 after a rather unconventional childhood. Things were done to you you could never forgive. In a lot of ways, you were still angry. Used by the people you should have trusted most. Seen as less than human. A tool. A mutant. 

And that’s when Charles found you.

The Professor took you in when he had no obligation to— and you fought every step of the way. You realize now it was your fear acting out rather than anger. Still, you were an X-Man… for a while. You thought you found your place. It was a good few years but you wanted more. You wanted to prove the world wrong. Be more than just a mutant. People always say a life well lived is always the best revenge. That’s what you wanted, a good life you forged for yourself despite the world's hatred towards you— and you left the X-Men behind to do it.

Once an x-man, always an x-man, Charles told you the day you left. Maybe some part of that was true, but you didn’t feel like an X-man anymore. It was your own fault, really.

Months and years rolled on and picking up the phone just got harder and harder. Dropping by to say hello started feeling intrusive. And eventually, it just became easier to do nothing at all. 

You stopped trying, but so did they. 

No, that’s not true. Jean tried. Storm tried. A letter or two every year. Missed calls that never got returned. You don’t know why you did it… or didn’t do it. Maybe you thought it would hurt less if you just tried to close the book on that chapter of your life. Be a new person. Something without the X-Men. They didn’t need you anyway. 

Really, it was probably that same fear from your teen years rearing its ugly head. Still that afraid, angry little girl. 

But Charles called, and you answered, and now you’re here. You’re here to help them get back up. 

You became a landscaper when you went off to make a name for yourself. Dirt was all you understood, as sad as that sounds. Still, it was work that made you happy. Funny how you left because you didn’t want your mutation to define you.

Charles treated it professionally like any other client would. The man didn’t expect charity and agreed to your usual fee plus an extra 50% to redo the escape tunnels under the mansion. 

I can’t pick my home up and move it, but I do my best to keep people guessing about its secrets, was Charles's reasoning. 

It was a big job. It would take you 2 weeks at least. Hopefully finishing up just in time for the returning students. You’d already been here 3 days and the emotional exhaustion was getting to you more than anything.

There was no ‘bad blood’ here. You were welcomed back with a chorus of cheers and endless hugs. It was… nice. Really nice. You did miss it here, you missed your old friends. Still, you couldn’t shake this feeling of disassociation stirring in your stomach. Yes, this was your home— your friends— but you’d alienated yourself. They’ve been nothing but kind to you and you still feel like a stranger because you left. You left and stopped trying and you’re refusing to try even now.

 Why was this all so scary?

You're reshaping the east garden beds when you feel eyes on you for the dozenth time today. You turn to see him standing there on the 4th-floor balcony, overlooking the decimated gardens. 

Logan . 

You only met him a few days ago. The newest member of the X-Men. The Wolverine. You’d heard rumors about him before. Tales of the rage, someone more animal than man. You’re amazed Charles took in someone like him, but then again he took you in too. 

You’d said less than 3 words to each other since you returned. When Scott introduced you he only gave a curt nod and lurked back into whatever corner he was occupying. 

You noticed he liked to stay on the sidelines. Silently occupy space without participating. He was always there when you turned around— like a shadow. He liked watching you work, you think. You could sense him lingering outside of the tunnel entrance you started in the basement the other day. This is the 4th time you’ve caught him lingering today.

You give him a casual flip of the bird. He retreats back inside as soon as your eyes connect with his. 

Fucking creep. 

“Dozer!” Storm’s voice pulls you from your unplanned staring contest. 

She and Jean step down into the rocky pit that was slowly starting to resemble a 3 tiered garden. You’d been working on the tunnels below the house since you got here, this was your first day outside. Even an Earthmover needed sunlight every once in a while. You couldn’t punch out your slew of confusing feelings in a dark hole in the ground forever. 

Of course they’d ambush you as soon as you stepped outside. 

“We have a surprise for you,” Jean announces proudly. 

“What— Why?” is all you manage to say. 

Idiot. 

“What do you mean why?” Storm doesn’t hesitate to grab your wrist and march you out of your pit. “Come on, it’s up at the garage.”

You let them drag you there, reminding yourself that these are your friends. The ones that kept trying to let you in and you’ve been an elusive bitch to since you got here. 

Try. Just try a little. They want you here. They do. 

You’re guided, presumably to the garage, by Storm while Jean diligently holds her hands in front of your eyes. 

“Please tell me it’s a new car,” You joke trying to lighten the mood. “My truck’s getting old.”

“Pfft, we don’t have that much money,” Jean nudges you slightly before you all come to a halt. She removes her hands. 

It’s not a car. It’s flowers. 

They’re absolutely beautiful. Hundreds of them in nursery trays laid out in front of the garage doors. Young blossoms but still vibrant with rainbows of color. 

Despite your connection with the Earth you never had power over plants, but felt a kinship with them in a way. Both beings that thrived in the dirt was your best guess as to why. You could sense them, feel them in your own way. Your dorm was a practical jungle when you lived here. Hell, your apartment today still was. 

A closer glance at the small garden reveals something more.

“It’s all your favorites,” Storm confirms, reaching down between the rows, “The ones we could remember at least. You had so many.”

She pulls out a bouquet, a small collection of the surrounding flowers. They must have made it themselves. Ororo hands it to you, her smile warm but her eyes sad in a way.

“Guys, I…” you choke out, pushing back the stinging tears. 

“Your thoughts are very loud,” Jean strokes your shoulder, “The gardens are yours. A reflection of you… for the rest of us. This is your home, you get to leave your mark on it.”

“We’re happy you’re back,” Storm joins Jean in front of you, “We’re happy you're home.”

Wordlessly, you collapse into the two of them. You’d make an ass out of yourself if you tried to talk right now anyway. 

Of course Jean knew how you were feeling. Of course Storm probably had the idea for this corny grand gesture. Of course, they missed you. They’re your oldest friends. Your sisters. 

You’re home. This is okay. It’s all going to be okay. 

__________

The sun has nearly set when you hear the garage door open from a distance, a fight echoing from inside. 

“Logan, be reasonable!” You recognize Scott’s aggravated voice.

“You’re a goddamn coward,” the wolverine growls back. Jean informed you this is a regular occurrence between the two of them. You’re not surprised. Logan seemed difficult, to say the least. 

You’re halfway up to the garage before you realize what you’re doing. What are you doing? Are you really going to try to break up a flight or just get a better spot for eavesdropping? There’s the roar of a motorcycle engine before you have time to decide. 

“ Logan! ” Scott shouts one last time before Logan peels out of the garage— right through the rows of your flowers that rested there. 

“HEY!” you shout after him. It’s no use, of course. He doesn’t bother to stop, already past the front gate by the time you reach the driveway. 

Scotts stands there alone at the edge of the garage, his hand on his visor… contemplating. 

“You’d have one witness if you're thinking about murder,” you make your presence known as you crouch down amongst the now mangled corpses of your garden. 

Asshole.

“Shit,” Scott's posture drops, almost embarrassed. His demeanor had changed so much from that young man you knew. The leader of the X-Men, he took himself so seriously now. It was cute in a way only Scott Summers could pull off. 

“What an asshole,” you rescue a box of untouched daisies. At least some of it was salvageable. 

“You have no idea,” Scott joins you, finding what flowers could be saved, “I’m sorry. He’s… difficult.”

“What were you fighting about?” you dare to ask, more to distract yourself than anything. 

Scott hesitates before he answers. 

“We were attacked by an offshoot of the Trask Institute. Extremists we didn’t even know existed. They came out of nowhere, and they’re still out there,” You see him scowl, silently scolding himself for not knowing more as a leader. He’d do the same thing in training.

The person who always put the most pressure on Scott was never The Professor. It was just Scott.

“Anyway,” he continues, “We don’t have an exact location, but Logan wants to hunt them down. Take ‘em out at the source, ya know?”

“And you don’t wanna do that?”

“We’ve taken enough hits right now.” He adds a bushel of ivy to your pile, “Best to wait until we have our feet back under us… or if they provoke us again.”

“Wouldn’t be good to be caught with your pants down again, though.” It’s not your place to question him anymore, but you do it anyway. 

“We’re monitoring them. They’re not a treat right now,” he lets out a deep sigh, shoulders dropping, “But that’s not good enough for Logan. He doesn’t plan. Just wants to go in guns blazing.”

“Ah, wild-west style.”

 “Like I said… he’s difficult .”

“That seems like a nice way of saying an absolute dick .” you attempt to lighten the mood and simultaneously quell the anger stirring in your stomach. He’d ruined your gift, your welcome home present— and he probably didn’t even notice. 

“He is a dick. A big one,” Scott scoffs, gaze lingering over the vegetative carnage, “I’m sorry he did this because of me…”

“Acts of random dickishness are not your fault, Summers.” 

Scott actually smiles at that one. 

“Did you like it at least? The flowers? The girls were so excited about it. We all wanted you to… never mind. You– you get it.”

You look at the mismatched rescues you’ve already gathered in your hands. Thank god you still had the bouquet in your room at least. 

“Yeah, Scott. I loved them.”

He gives a reassuring nod. Scott wasn’t much for words. That’s okay, you didn’t expect him to be. Yes, he’s the leader but there’s still so much of that quiet boy you see in him. 

“Logan will probably be gone for the night. I’ll talk to him when he gets back. I’ll fix this, Doze.” Scott assures you, that leadership role dropping so easily into place. Charles made the right choice with him. 

“That’s okay, Scott. I’ll take care of it myself.”

__________

Scott was right, Logan doesn’t come back until the following afternoon. You’re on the mansion's north side with Charles, showing him your layout plans, when you hear the roar of that stupid bike again. 

“Sorry, Charles,” you quickly step away from your old mentor, “I have to handle something.” 

“I hope you won’t be ruining my grounds even further while you handle this,” Charles tuts disapprovingly, completely aware of Logan’s transgressions from the previous night. Being psychic, he was no doubt also completely aware of just how angry you were. Jean did say your thoughts are loud after all. Still, he lets you go without another word.

This guy had been nothing but a creep to you since you got here, stacking more anxiety on top of your already overflowing insecurities. Strutting around like he owned the place. Looking at you like a piece of meat. You’d seen too many men like him in your life. He needs to be knocked down a peg.

“Hey!” You have his attention as soon as he kills the engine. He rolls his eyes as he lazily tilts his head in your direction. 

“What, sweetheart?” his face is painted over with an arrogance that was just begging to be slapped off. 

You’ll happily oblige.

Kicking your heel into the dirt you send a wave through the ground. A small pillar of rock shoots up under the bike. It falls under the sudden jolt, and so does Logan along with it. The shock on his face was already worth it. 

“What the hell?!” He sneers as he crawls out from under the bike. 

“Why don’t you watch where you're driving next time, asshole,” You dare to take a step forward. He scrambles to his feet, a metallic ring following the movements. 

Ah, there they are— the infamous metal claws. Now these you’ve heard stories about.

“That is quite enough,” Charles rolls up behind you, “I will not have this boorish display of dominance on my property.” 

To his credit, Logan is the first one to drop his defenses. He sheaths his claws with an irritated shrug. 

“Don’t know what the hell I did for any of this crap,” He practically mumbles. You resist the urge to throw a pebble at his head. 

“You wrecked my garden!” You can practically feel the ground vibrating in your anger. 

Logan looks down at his feet, remnants of the flora he’d unknowingly destroyed still scattered across the dirt. 

“Hell of a place for a garden, toots,” he scoffs, kicking at the now withered flowers, “What you want an apology, then?”

You kick another small wave towards him. He catches himself on the shaking ground this time, only giving a scowl your way. 

“Enough!” Charles comes between you. “If you insist on behaving like children, then you will be treated like children.”

“He started it!” against your better judgment you mockingly point a finger at Logan. Charles only offers a disappointed shake of the head. 

Once a student, always a student. 

Charles addresses you first, “You have my permission to use school funds to purchase more garden supplies, and I apologize on behalf of my newest pupil since he seems to be incapable of doing it himself. They were a gift after all,” he turns to Logan, “And you will take her to get them.”

“No.”

“Absolutely not.”

Both you and Logan protest at the same time. 

“If you insist on protesting then I’d like to remind you I can always make you do it in different ways,” It’s an empty threat, of course. One of his favorite tactics to use. You remember him making the same kind to you when you were a student. He sighs before making his way back inside the mansion, “I will not have more petty rivalries in this house at a time like this. See it done… Today.”

You’re left alone together, both staring down at your feet like scolded children. Well into your adulthood you’re still finding ways to disappoint Charles Xavier. You’re ashamed you let your anger get the better of you again. You thought you were past this. Better than this.

Logan may have been an ass, but he was an X-man too. A friend of your friends. You didn’t even give him a chance to fix this before you came barreling in fists first. Still, you don’t really regret it either…

Fine.

With a deep sigh, you’re the first to concede.

“I have a truck.”

Logan hesitates for a moment before finally looking you in the eye. 

“I’ll drive.”

“Absolutely not.”

__________

The drive to the Westchester Greenhouse was tense and completely silent. Now he’s following three paces behind you like a giant angry shadow. The sweet grandmas perusing the hydrangeas take one look at him looming behind you and change rows. It’s hilarious if you're being honest. You’d cooled down over the drive, you’re not entirely sure he has. Every step he takes is tense, you can feel it through the damp concrete floor.

You wonder if he’s aware of how intimidating he is. He has to be. That or he truly didn’t care. From what little you knew about this man it’s probably a bit of both.

“I don’t get why we’re here,” his gruff voice surprises you, “Can’t you just… grow more?”

“I can’t grow things,” you respond, placing a tray of tiger lilies in your cart, “Just move dirt.”

He hums and looks away in response. This was getting painful. If Charles insisted on sending you both out on this stupid little team-building exercise then you might as well try a little… for Charles.

“I can’t grow plants but I can… feel them.” You continue. 

To your surprise, he actually responds. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Maybe ‘ I can kinda talk to pants’ isn’t the best icebreaker topic but it’s a start. You look around rows of greenery, your attention landing on a crudely drawn sign that reads ‘ Man-Eating Plants. ’ Perfect. Most basic nurseries never knew how to take care of carnivorous plants properly. 

“Here I’ll show you,” you walk over to the small section of venus fly traps. Your suspicions were correct. Brown-tipped leaves and shriveled black heads could be spotted on nearly every plant. They’d repotted them in all-purpose soil without a second thought.

“Don’t tell me you can talk to them.” Logan comes to stand next to you. 

“No, nothing like that. But look,” you point at the crisping leaves of one plant. “They’re over-fertilized. They get their nutrients from bugs, not the soil. They’re roots don’t like what’s in the dirt and I can… feel that. So then I talk to the dirt.” 

Logan raises an amused brow. You’re not entirely sure if it’s mocking or genuinely curious. 

“So whaddya do ‘bout that?” he probes. 

Curious it is. You take a quick glance around, making sure no one is close enough to see. Thankfully the massive scary man at your side and some towering majesty palms are enough cover for you. 

“We take out what they don’t like in the soil. And what’s soil and fertilizer but some specific minerals.”

You’d first gotten the idea when you’d heard Magneto could rip iron directly out of people's blood. If his powers could be so precise, why not yours? It took years to master. You practiced by dumping table salt on the yard and trying to only summon the granules to your hands.

Same concept here.

You hold your hand over the small carnivorous beasts, feeling the small pellets of fertilizer mixed into their soil. You can feel the specific minerals and separate them out. Steadily, tiny pellets hovered out of each pot in neat rows and gathered above your hand. Once gathered you clench your open palm into a fist, the pellets gathering into one solid rock the size of a golf ball. 

“There,” the mineral-dense rock drops into your hand, “Come back in a month and I guarantee these guys will be doing better.”

“Oh, I’m never coming back here,” despite the bitterness of his words, Logan says them with a smile. He’s teasing you. 

“Well then,” you turn to him and place the rock in his jacket’s breast pocket, “There, a little souvenir to remember your forced trip to the greenhouse for being a jerk.” 

You’re walking back to the cart before he has a chance to respond. The air feels lighter between the two of you now. You don’t like that you had to be the bigger person when he’s clearly been the one in the wrong but… it’s something, you guess. 

Your little demonstration reminds you that you need better-treated soil if you’re going to make these gardens work. The ground around the mansion was fine but they needed something ritcher to give the plants a good head start. You could mix the soil yourself from around the area but it was infinitely easier to get already prepared bags of it here. Just a few for the topsoil should be fine. Charles said this was all on him, after all. 

You stop in front of the stacked bags of various soil mixes. You reach for the general outdoor plant mix. Logan’s hand beats yours to the fuschia pink labeled bag, pulling it off the stack and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“How many?” he asks, emotionless. 

“Uh… let’s start with five?”

He grabs two more and effortlessly stacks them on his shoulder. He holds the other two in his free hand. He stands there holding over a hundred pounds of dirt like it’s nothing. 

“Okay, what next?”

The sun is starting to set when you make your way back to the manor. The air between the two of you is decidedly less tense but it’s still painfully silent. There was… progress made. You didn’t hate him anymore and hopefully he would treat your property with more care from now on. He tried, in the only way stoic men like him can. Not with words, but with small actions. Carrying bags of dirt for hours, shooing you away from loading the truck and doing it all himself, opening the car door for you. For some reason actually saying ‘sorry’ was always so much harder than just showing you he was sorry. 

You got it. Your father and brothers were the same. You wonder if he was a military man too. 

That doesn’t change the fact that you hadn’t apologized either. Yes, he’d wrong you first, but you provoked him without warning. Actions instead of just talking like an adult. Yeah, actions were always easy for people like you. 

And in your own fucked up little way, you’d made him the subject of your anxieties. He was new here, you’d made yourself an outcast. They all clearly adored him despite his rugged nature. Charles so clearly wanted to help this man who was too skittish to be helped. It reminded you of someone else…

You could extend the metaphorical olive branch. Offer something that resembled friendship. That’s why Charles sent you out here, but you’re going to do it your own way. 

Somewhere that holds a lot of memories is coming up on the right, and you could use a drink. The sudden turn off the road jolts Logan from his empty gazing out the window. 

“Jesus Christ, woman!” He reaches for the center console, shooting you a glare. You hold back a smile, “This isn’t the way back to the school.”

“We’re not going back to the school,” You pull into an all too familiar parking lot, a red neon sign already lit up reading ‘Stevie’s Bar ‘n’ Grill’ illuminates the windshield. You’d snuck over here at least a dozen times when you were in school.

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“What?” He smirks with a raise of the eyebrow. He does that a lot, you've noticed.

“Look, I—” You take a breath and shift the car into park. You can do this, it’s just words, “I wasn’t fair. You did a shitty thing, yeah, but you didn’t know. And I came at you with no explanation.”

“I’m used to it.” He shrugs jokingly, trying to lighten the mood you’ve suddenly soured. It works. You smile. 

“It’s… weird. Being back,” you’re grip on the wheel tightens ever so slightly in an attempt to ground yourself, “I don’t expect you to understand this, but it’s weird coming back to a place you called home and feeling like a stranger. Despite everything your friends are saying, you just feel wrong there. I tried to take my insecurities out on you Logan. I’m sorry.”

The bloated silence that settles between the two of you doesn’t help, but you can’t blame him. What was he supposed to say after you just bared part of your soul? You’re not expecting an apology but it hurts a little when he hops out of the truck. You’re about to yell after him when he rounds the front and comes to your door. He opens it and leans in closer than you’d like. 

“How about I buy you a drink then?” There’s that stupid smirk of his again, “You said it yourself, I did a shitty thing. You drug me out here to clean up my mess, wrecked your little welcome home present Jean wouldn’t shut up about. I owe you a drink, toots.”

He leans in a little closer. You can smell the cigar smoke on him, probably embedded into his clothes at this point. It’s not an apology. Not really.

It’s an olive branch. 

__________

It’s exactly the same. Old country on the jukebox, dirty floors, old tattooed lady bartenders that wouldn’t hesitate to knock someone out if they tried something. Funny how little hole-in-the-wall places like this never change. You’re grateful for it. 

You and Logan huddled into the farthest booth in the corner away from the commotion. His beer’s already half gone by the time you’re on your second sip. Somehow you’re not surprised. 

“How the hell did Charles get stuck with you?” You laugh as he wipes away the suds from his stubble. 

“Funny, I could ask you the same.”

You playfully kick him under the table and he thankfully laughs it off. He had a nice smile… you suppose. 

“He drug me in kicking and screaming,” You take another sip, glancing at the kitchen door in hopes the fries you ordered were coming. Logan leans forward, waiting for you to continue. “I… ran away from my birth family. Was on the streets for probably six months before he found me. I was thirteen.”

“That’s the most boring way to tell a probably good story I’ve ever heard,” He says before taking another gulp. 

“Oh, please tell me your life story then, Mr. Wolverine.” You cross your arms.

“Oh, we’d be here a while, Darlin’.”

Well… if he was asking about you. 

“I was born in Guam… I think. We moved almost every year. Mom died before I even had memories. Was brought up by a Colonel in the army and two brothers.”

“Military brat. Should have guessed.” You kick him under the table again, “Explains the temper too I guess.”

“Well, a military upbringing with a bunch of boys’ll do that.” 

When was the last time you told someone about your life? And why was it so easy to tell him? He holds your gaze for a moment and you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Why’d you run away then?” He asks. 

“Oh, you’re gonna need a lot more alcohol in me for that, fella.” you skillfully evade the question. Maybe it wasn’t so easy to tell him everything . 

“That can be arranged,” waves at the waitress, signaling for another round. You look at his practically empty mug and you're still practically full one— and still no fries. God help you. 

“Your turn,” you prompt him, “Tell me something about you.”

His posture tenses. 

“Not much to tell, sweetheart.”

“Where were you born?”

“Don’t remember.”

“Okay, where’d you grow up?”

“Same answer.”

“Did you—”

“Look,” he cuts you off, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening, “Like I said, it’s a long story… but I’m missing a lot of details. It’s not worth listening to, I promise.”

You suddenly feel bad for snooping so much. He had a boundary, and that was fine. Just because you were so keen on sharing doesn’t mean he has to be. 

The waitress delivers your next round along with a greasy basket of fries. Logan is the first to reach for one. 

“You said Chuck drug you in kicking and screaming?” His eyes soften again, “I guess he did with me too.”

He’s trying to be friendly. Trying to be a little gentler.

“Oh?” you gently prod him to continue. 

“I’m not…” he runs his hand through his pointed hair, “I wasn’t a good man… the parts I can remember. And Chuck gave me a chance. I don’t like it all the time… bein’ somewhere I don’t belong. I run. It’s what I do. But they keep havin’ me back. So… I get it.”

You suspect he hasn’t told anyone this, but he’s saying it to you. He chose you to trust for some reason. Your heart clenches. 

You thumb at the handle of your still mostly full beer next to another waiting one, unsure of how to continue. You both started with the heavy shit, so there was only one way to go now. You came here to clear the air… but you also came here to drink. You take the mug and raise it to Logan. 

“To the class fuck ups then.”

__________

In retrospect, it probably wasn’t the best idea to buy you six drinks on a practically empty stomach. To be fair, you didn’t admit that you’d skipped lunch until drink four and by then the fries were gone and the kitchen was closed. Half a basket of fries wasn't a good substitute dinner, it turns out. Not so much a lightweight as just an idiot, but everyone’s a lightweight compared to Logan. Perk of a healing factor is he can sober up pretty damn quick when he needs to. Practically had to wrestle the keys out of your hands while you were stumbling your way back to the truck. 

Cute how you thought you could put up a fight. He carried you the rest of the way to the truck, you giggling the whole way. Funny how he didn’t really mind either. 

So used to drinking alone, he’d forgotten what it was like to do it with someone else. All the comradery that came with it and a few sloppy games of pool too. Kurt wasn’t much for booze, unfortunately. Hank, Jean, and Storm were always too damn busy to relax, and Scott… like hell he’d have a drink with Scott. 

But this was all your idea. You brought him to a shitty bar, shared a little bit yourself with him and now he was driving you home while you poorly slurred along with whatever was playing on the radio.

And he didn’t mind one bit. 

He didn’t know what to make of you when you first came. They all talked about you with such admiration whenever your name came up… which was all the damn time. You were quiet, skittish almost. Kept your nose down and got to work immediately. 

He recognized what you were doing right away. 

Logan understood what it was like to be part of something and feel like a stranger. Hell, that’s all he’d ever been. Just someone passing through until the X-Men. He’s still learning how to do it. Be part of something. He meant it when he said he wasn’t a good man, but he’s a better man than he was. He wouldn’t have that without Charles. 

And here you come, someone who had it all and left it behind just to try to be normal out in the world. The one thing people like you could never be. Yeah, he really got it.

You admitted you were an angry kid in your drunken ramblings. He has a hard time picturing you that way— a little rebel. You shied away from talking more about personal things. Your family and whatever the hell else that past life entailed. He didn’t pry, didn’t want to make you more uncomfortable than he already had. Instead, the conversation drifted into one of those that’s about everything and nothing at all. Just sharing drinks with a friend kind of conversation. 

He liked it… having someone to talk to. 

You’re finishing up belting Bohemian Raposesty when he finally pulls into the driveway of the mansion. 

“Shows over, rockstar,” he announces as he kills the engine. 

“Boooo!” You weakly protest as soon as the radio dies, “Killjoy!”

“That’s me,” he grumbles, getting out and walking over to your door. You slump out of the seat as soon as he opens it, “Come on, princess.” 

You’re slumped over, curled up into the flannel he offered as a blanket. He pulls you into his arms, deciding it’d be easier to just carry you straight to bed rather than herd you up the steps. God he hopes everyone’s gone to bed by now, otherwise he’s probably going to get an earful for getting their precious darling drunk. 

“You’re like the firemen… in those calendars…” you slur as he pushes through the front door, “Or a lumberjack. With those chops, you have to be a lumberjack.”

He holds back a laugh at your girlish ramblings. To his relief, no one is in the foyer. He quickly hikes up the stairs, squirming drunk girl in hand. You were already dozing off by the time he reached the top of the stairs. 

Thank god. 

“Whoa, deja vu,” you rub your hands down your face, “I feel like 'm 16 again. We did this all the time back ‘n the day.” 

“Yeah? Who carried you to bed then?” your door is in sight. 

“The Professor.” you jokingly wheeze out without hesitation. “Guy loves his brandy.”

“Mmm, I’m sure,” Logan scoots past your door, careful of your head. He lays you down on the bed gently, you don’t protest. He carefully unlaces your shoes while you squirm into the covers. 

“Y’know, yer nicer than I thought you’d be.” You can’t even keep your eyes open now. 

“That right?” Logan smiles to himself as he pulls one sneaker off. 

“Mmhmm,” you nod, nuzzling your head into the pillow, “Funny, I thought the Wolverine would be so scary.”

He cringes a little at your words. He won’t hold them against you, not in this state. 

“I’m very scary.”

You blow a raspberry before continuing, “No yer not! You're just a guy. A hunky, lumberjack guy who hates flowers.”

“I don’t hate flowers.”

“Right… just my flowers.”

“Yeah, just your flowers,” he pulls off the other shoe. Your feet immediately shoot up into the covers. He smooths a comforting hand over your hip. It makes him happier than it should when you don’t flinch away. 

“You need anything else, darlin’?”

“Stop doin’ that,” You groan into the pillow.

“Stop what?”

“Makin’ me blush with your dumb pet names.” You admit, “Stop it.”

He smiles to himself, a familiar warm feeling rising in his stomach. He’ll leave you be for tonight. Best to wait until you're sober to ask what you mean by that anyway, if only to watch you blush a little more. 

“I’ll leave you be then,” he almost feels regret when he stands off of the bed. Almost. You were drunk. Tired. There was nothing more to be said tonight. 

He drags your empty trash can over to the side of the bed, just in case, and fills a glass of water for you too. 

“I had fun tonight,” He says before walking towards the door. Your voice makes him pause.

“Logan?” you call out like a scolded child.

“Yeah?”

“You don’t actually hate my flowers, do you?”

“No, darlin’. I don’t hate your flowers.” 

He makes sure to turn off the light and close the door behind him. 

__________

[fayfaygoes]

The recent discourse on Twitter about Zayne's age being 30+ "cuz there's NO WAY" got me thinking.

There was news of young child prodigy in my country who achieved milestones of students/children who are older than him , and their parents continued with it .

It was all fine until he couldn't do well in the Certificate examination ..and exam we give around age of 19-21 when he was atleast 5years younger . So basically now it's over since this GPA is very important to get jobs or to get selected for University or higher education.

Not only he couldn't get to be a child in those years , everything turned out bad because of mistakes in the last but most important steps.

Then I also saw a news of someone graduating at age of 17 ..with people commenting she should take years off and be a child that she couldn't be .

My point is -

these people exists . Young prodigy or merit/gifted children often subjected to fate like this . And sometimes that results very badly for them as they grow up.

But sometimes their consistency doesn't let them meet that failure.

Like the graduates ,and for our case , Our favourite chief surgeon Zayne .

Everytime I saw how many find it unbelievable that he is in his late twenties I get reminded of IRL examples and tender moment "Delicacy" that answers all these doubts.

And with how people prefer Older experienced surgeons , the fact that he GAINED the trust to become a Chief at such young age is NO JOKE.

Rereading Delicacy got me wondering-

How much he probably didn't get to be a Child or a teen because he was drowned in books and busy excelling academically.

How much he had to compete in higher classes with classmates older than him.

because in his word "Time is luxury for student in hellishly competitive medical school"

The fact he didn't have any ,I repeat, ANYone to call his friends because everyone is older than him & he was transferring fast ,on top he comes across as awkward in narrow lense.

How isolating that might have felt now that we get to know how he loves company.

What else he could do except study more and more and more?? Which resulted him excelling further & further.

With how affection craved he is , did he miss those times where someone would knock at him door and ask him out to play with her .

He can't get his Teen life back ,nor get to experience what it likes to be a Normal students enjoying the life of ''being a student''

The fact that he was introduced to us as 27 speaks volumes.

the fact he is younger makes it even more sadder .

He graduated and became doctor at such young age because he has talents & merits .

It's also because he didn't have any other option but to keep going .

He admits that it wasn't due his "passion for learning" when MC asked him

But ,Rather

And it's just-

thanks to twitter that I went back to my roots and I found more reason to fall harder and harder for him as I wipe my tears.

He deserves all the fun and affection that he missed in those years because he had to grow up faster than his age required. And now he deserves someone by his side that understand and pampers him , stroke his back , hug him ,reassures him.

Tell him that it's okay to reunite with his inner child , everything will be alright because we will never leave him.

[blurreynights]

I think the biggest culture shock I experienced in Finland so far is around friendships, as well as the area where I learned a lot of valuable things about myself. I might not be entirely right about this as I've only been here for a short time, but those are my main take-aways:

(under the cut to not block ur tags w my english rambling)

Trying to build real friendships takes time, much longer than in my home country. It is relatively easy to get in contact with Germans in my experience, especially if you live in a bigger city and speak the language, ESPECIALLY if you are a student and just starting out in a new phase of your life. You will naturally hang out frequently if you match well and spend a lot of time together. It might take a few meetings before people will invite u to their home, but generally there's not much distance as soon as the ice is broken.

Here I feel like people are much slower and more reluctant to open up. But that doesn't equal rejection, it's simply a slower process and you will still be able to tell the difference between being rejected and being on the path of friendship. In Germany, it's usually a lot more fast paced and there is a small window you have to catch to get into tight friendgroups. If you miss it, no chance of ever going back, vibe gone chance gone. Also people who might have found you interesting could lose interest if you wait for too long (meaning usually a month or so) to get back to them.

I actually realized that this way of socializing stresses me tf out. I much prefer a more laid back approach where you can get to know each other without time limitations (of course prerequisite is that you have the time). It is a much more sustainable, thoughtful and respectful approach to someone elses time. You're not treated as disposable, but rather as a person someone actively chooses to get to know.

Likewise, if people feel like they either do not vibe with you or if they already have a very busy social life or life in general, they will let you know and don't pretend to have time or like you. This was quite a new thing to me and felt a bit cold, but I actually really appreciate it now, as it's saving you from stressful, draining interpersonal connections. It also made me respect some people immensely, because they know their own self worth and boundaries quite well.

It made me reflect upon my tendency to be a people pleaser, and the strong yearning I have to treat my own relationships the same way as I've experienced it here. I've grown so tired of superficial connections that are placeholders for true, fulfilling friendships. I used to think being lonely was the worst thing in the world. It kind of is still awful, but what's worse is being surrounded by a bunch of people you don't really click with or can rely on, which leaves you lonely as well. I do think letting go of this is something that will slowly seep over into my own life, as it is so freeing.

I also intend on staying, or rather coming back when I've finished up all my business back in Germany (I am not really rooted to the city I live in). People who I've told about this recent development were very worried if I would be able to be happy in a country that is (generally) much more reserved when it comes to social interaction, as I need social interaction regularly. I don't really think it's that big of an issue, as I think I can balance out people's passive approach with my more active one in the beginning. I have a high social battery, so I'm fine with interacting with a few more people, before people get truly comfortable to hang out on the regular. Yet I also prefer quality interactions over a bunch of small talk meetups I don't care about. I also still have my core friends who I talk to regularly on the phone, and this has been a tradition for years already before I came here.

What I am immensely struggling with right now is trying to make sense of all the connections I made in the past 10 years. This is the 6th city I lived in the last decade, and the 8th move. All my relationships feel so spread out and scattered. I am holding on to some solely because those people were there when I moved somewhere new and I didn't have anyone else. Like back in school, when I was friends with people because they were the only ones there. It's all a bit confusing and painful right now, as my values and perspectives are changing. I think there are a lot of people moving from the friends to acquaintance category right now. I'm completely redefining friendships for me at the moment.

[multifandomthoughts]

Support Team + Engineer with a Plus Sized Reader

Medic

Actually prefers larger people (heavy) and absolutely adores you for it. Despite being a bit awkward with his compliments, he absolutely tries his best. You may have to ask him to repeat what he says again because it’s so quiet and spoken under his breath.

When you have to do a physical with him, he makes sure to give you your space and find ways to make you feel better in what is considered a stressful time. When the results come out and aren’t what is considered normal for BMI, Medic immediately rips up the paper. He thinks it’s absolute nonsense since your blood work looks fine.

Whenever you have an issue physically, he does his best to take you seriously, and find the root of the problem, rather than explain it off on your weight. He wants to make sure that you’re healthy and that you aren’t pushed to the size because of your weight.

If anyone ever makes fun of you for your weight or dares to say anything about it, expect to find that person in a body bag, or used for parts for his new experiments. If you catch him in the act, all he does is smile and wave at you.

Spy

He has been with many people of all different backgrounds and sizes so he loves absolutely every single part of your body. Is another person who does not take kindly to you insulting your own body.

Has more than once transformed into you with his disguise device just to show you the specific parts of the body that he loves so much. Definitely has done it when you’re away just so he can stare at your body. Also sometimes when you’re out shopping, when you’re not sure how something looks, he’ll use his disguise kit to show you.

He’s an amazing cook. Anything your heart desires, he can make. You want an omelette for breakfast? Done. A rare steak? Enjoy it. He just wants to make you as happy as he possibly can.

Absolutely ravishes you behind closed doors. He’ll kiss any part of your body that you don’t love about yourself as well as trace his fingers down the specific area. Also insists on showing you how much he loves you with gentle massages.

Sniper

Sniper is a family man, and everyone who’s met him knows that. So when wants to introduce you to his family, he’s nervous about what his parents will think about you. To his delight, they love you, and don’t judge you for your size. They’re just happy that he has someone he loves that has a relatively normal job and life. (They’re bound to find out the truth later.)

He loves having you in his camper, hanging out with him and bothering the shit out of him. (Affectionately.) It used to be pretty bare bones, but now it has a bunch of things that remind him of you, and a bunch of little snacks for when you come to hang out.

When he’s sniping and you decide to come along, he makes sure that the spot he’s in is comfortable and safe for you to be in. He doesn’t want you to get stuck, or be an open shot for an enemy. It would kill him if anything happened to you.

He loves knitting you little things, and it makes you happy because sometimes it’s hard to find clothes in your size. Now you no longer worry about it, because you know that if you ask, he’ll make you something.

Engineer

Engineer absolutely loves serenading you with his guitar, and wants you to feel as special as he possibly can. He does it even more so if you’re ever feeling insecure or upset about your body.

Loves having you in the workshop with him. Because you’re larger, you’re able to lift and hold larger things, taking a lot of the weight off of his shoulders. It also means he doesn’t need to worry as much about you getting hurt as you’re larger.

He loves having you to his big family outings, as it’s boisterous and a bunch of fun. And because of the amount of people, and because he’s Texan, you never ever go hungry.

He loves having campfires, just the two of you. It warms his heart to have the person he loves spend time with him. You help him make the fire, and he either roasts marshmallows, or roasts sausages, whatever you’re in the mood for.

[tossawary]

I do like time travel fics for a variety of reasons. It can be fun to see a "perfect run" fix-it fic running through the canon storyline again. There is a little suspension of disbelief required for some of them, because at some point, the little changes for the better or big tragedies averted should start to mess with the world. Very good time travel fics take this Butterfly Effect into account.

It is VERY fun to think about time-traveling characters who immediately break the plot, because they fail to or don't even try to keep things on a certain track. I love seeing authors use this jumping point to explore entirely new directions for canon. It's off-roading time!!!

Some characters are happy to work within the systems of their worlds. They'll put up with the little indignities of having do to things again and are able to act their way through a redo. (And apparently have incredibly good memories, like, damn.) The cost of keeping things roughly the same is something that they're willing to pay in order to reap specific benefits at the end of the journey.

Other characters would prefer to break the systems of their worlds. They have no patience to play by someone else's rules if they have the power to do otherwise. They may think that the world is broken as it is and needs to be changed. They may be unable to let certain injustices happen again no matter the cost to their ability to predict the future. (I admit, I have a preference for this, because I think it's more interesting, and if the protagonist is a heroic figure, I like the idea that every single life is worth trying to save if you can try.)

Anyway, this is all to say that I just read the last 100 chapters of "Naruto" and apparently Naruto was the only person keeping Sasuke from following through on his unhinged and vague supervillain plans at the end there. If you sent Sasuke back into the past, let's say from a battle with Kaguya going poorly back to the Uchiha massacre or something, and he retains his adult body or any of his abilities (full Sharingan + Rinnegan)? I cannot see that Sasuke trying to give Konoha a shot again. I don't think he trusts like that anymore.

I think he would immediately 1) kill Itachi if Itachi forces him to do it and he can't convince Itachi to join his side, 2) kill Danzo and any ROOT agents who get in his way, (2.5) kill Zetsu and Madara if he can find and catch them, and also Obito if Obito forces him,) 3) kill or try to kill the Third Hokage, and potentially 4) try to declare himself the new Fifth Hokage. Winning a lot of these fights just by taking eeeeeverybody by surprise. Or something like that, you know? I think he'd at least try to immediately do some reckless revenge murder.

If time-traveling Sasuke is stuck in his child body for a redo, and can't set himself up as the new dictator of Konoha or the new shared enemy of the shinobi world or whatever, then I think that he might just run off and join Orochimaru again. I think he would make early deals with Orochimaru for the relative freedom that offers.

Like, Sasuke just does not strike me as a particularly stable person who gives a shit about maintaining a comfortable life for everyone around him. He does not care about Konoha's image. He does not want to settle complacently into a comfortable life within this corrupt state. I think he'd rather drag out the rot and set everything on fire than sit through the frustrating false civility of politics or go to school again, if he had any choice in the matter.

A time-traveling Sasuke would not behave like a time-traveling Naruto or Sakura! So, if I had to do a time-traveling Sasuke, I'd probably reach for the "break-it" rather than the "fix-it". Konoha struggles to deal with this new, mysterious, Rinnegan-wielding Uchiha who appeared out of the middle of an incomplete massacre, just killed the Hokage, and declared himself the new one, completing the Uchiha coup at the eleventh hour. (People are saying he looks like Uchiha Izuna come back to life, apparently???) Oh, shit, someone secretly go get Tsunade and Jiraiya right now, fuck.

[prodbymaui]

These Secrets That I Have — 이민형.

what if I told you that I've fallen?

PAIRING: mark lee x fem!reader

GENRE: our friendly neighborhood spiderman ; the best friends

WORD COUNT: 4.3k+ words

WARNINGS: eventual smut, choking kink, arson

SYNOPSIS: Joking that your best friend is the infamous superhero bitten by a spider has been a habit for the group. It was all a joke, until it wasn't.

A/N: THE UPSIDE DOWN KISS!! spidermark agenda, I wouldn't let you die. and forgive for the poor attempts of comedy lmao. anyways, happy reading and don't forget to share your thoughts about this fic! <3

''With great power comes..''

''Great responsibilities--''

Gasping dramatically, Johnny stands up as his finger points accusingly to the male who's unknowingly straining his vocal chords due to laughing so much.

Mark shakes his head, clapping his hands in amusement. ''Dude, everybody knows that.''

''Nobody gets it right.''

Jaehyun joins the tallest among all of you. ''Except spiderman.''

Cackles once again blooms, the way these two delivers their impromptu exposing session is so comical that you are all gasping for air.

If you didn't know better, those faces full of shock mixed with betrayal would fool you into thinking your best friend is actually the one behind the infamous red and dark blue suit with webs and spider symbols decorating it. No ones knows when it actually began, the spiderman jokes. Johnny and Jaehyun are certainly the ones to start the teasing on Mark, doting on him and urging him to 'admit it' in every chance they get. Oftentimes, the jokes are fueled by Mark's fast reflexes. Someone can react fast, alright, but something about Mark's tells that there's a deeper root or cause, Johnny's words.

Personally, you don't really think Mark would be the 'friendly neighborhood' superhero neither do you consider even the smallest chance because-- one, the male is literally with you almost 24/7 and spiderman saves people 25/8. And two, you've stayed at Mark's apartment more than you've done to your dorm, you know the in and outs, every nook and cranny of the space-- not once did you found even a mere clue that suggests what Johnny and Jaehyun had in their mind.

''You really gotta back us up here, dude. You know what you've seen.'' Once again, the faux seriousness shows in his words and his eyes widening to convince, you decides to ride his flow this time.

''Actions speaks louder than voice, Mark. If you're not spiderman, then explain the spidey senses!'' Johnny throws a cap towards Mark's direction, effectively making the man catch it within seconds, eventually proving your 'theory'.

'I told you so' looks are exchanged between the three of you. Haechan barks a laugh at that.

''This is fucking crazy.'' Clearly, he's enjoying the show judging by the tears escaping the sockets of his eyes.

The series of persistence is left to deaf ears. Mark prefers downing as much pizza as he can right now rather than dealing with endless accusations that, to say the least, is absolutely nonsensical. ''Y'all would cut this shit out or you'll have webs shoved down deep in your throat in a minute?''

By now, Mark should've known making empty threats that has connections with spiderman's universe or spiderman himself will just worsen the situation he already finds hard to be in. Albeit his ears ringing, Mark didn't make any effort to stop the banters of his friends regarding if he's the superhero bitten by a spider or he's just a natural. Concluding that the discussion is harmless, he doesn't find the need to.

Ha! It's not like he's actually the 'Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman', right?

Another groan escapes past your lips, fingers drumming the white table. 15 minutes upon arriving at 7/11, your instant ramen slash source of distraction from boredom sadly disappears in thin air. What the fuck is taking Mark Lee so long?

''--so you mean, 10 muscled people holding rifles each was nothing against 1 spider descendant or some shit?'' Your ears perks up.

''Yup, flicked those robbers away to the police like it was nothing.''

''Damn crazy, and fucking awesome.''

''That's spiderman for you,'' The boy browses through the ice cream freezer near you. ''Still can't believe he's in this area just minutes ago.''

Eh? The superhero was here? Then that would mean the said robbery took place somewhere not far from where you were eating your ramen peacefully. How come you didn't hear the sirens? You sigh, mind wondering the possible outcomes if the robbers decides to raid the stores nearby and eventually reach yours. It fuels your urge to go home even more.

Supposedly, this trip shouldn't last no more than 10 minutes considering the fact that the store is not even 3 minutes away from your dorm and choosing chips to your liking only takes less than 5 minutes of your time-- depending on how indecisive you are and how crazy your cravings are. It'll all bring you back to the comfort of your bedroom in no time, nonetheless.

But a certain someone thought it's a good idea to leave you at the store and tells you that he'll be back in a bit, making you wait like some child for their parent. Heck, no parent would even leave their child alone at a convenience store, opting to take the kid with them. He insisted on meeting here again in spite of your whines to go separate ways so you can enjoy the warmth of your bed all the while he fulfills the errand that he so eagerly wants to finish.

''This motherfucker, I swear to God.'' Informing Mark that you'll go back via message, the chair lets out a faint screech as your body heat lingers a little longer after standing up to leave. Just as you turn around, your shoulders meets a chest, sending you both to a halt as the collision sinks in. You look up to see your most awaited best friend with his unstyled chest nut hair serving as a curtain for his same shade orbs. He breathes heavily, as if catching some air to fend his lungs.

Eyes raking down his body, you drink in his appearance. He looks like he just came from.. a fight. ''The hell happened to you, dude?'' Your figure heads towards the store's exit.

''Police thought I was one of those that belonged to the robbery, took me a while to convince them I'm not, sorry.''

You snort. ''Well, I would mistake you as a robber too with this beanie and all black outfit you have.''

Mark scowls. ''They thought I'm a victim, just for your information.''

''Really? That's surprising.'' Laughing softly under your breath, you tosses a bag of chips to Mark as compensation for your teasing.

The gust of cold breeze remains disregarded, warmth coming from the other's body heat is enough to ease the coldness. Passing by where the crime occurred, your feet unknowingly fasten their pace, shuddering at the thought of danger albeit the police cars and armed officers surrounds the area in protection stance.

Overhearing a reporter going on about something along the lines of 'the cops thanking Spiderman as it weren't for him, they wouldn't be able to catch the criminals' makes you sigh.

They should really stop depending on the superhero. You thought.

''Isn't it scary?''

Mark turns to you. ''What is?''

''The way greed can drive humans to intense, irrevocable madness.  It pushes them to do these things that'll not only put their lives in danger but will also fail to satisfy their desires. Sure, they can have money in the palms of their hands with just a snap, stealing from people-- but will those bills last for a long time? Will that be enough for them? Certainly not.''

A brief glance from Mark is what you received, the bop of his head caught by your peripheral vision assures you to keep going. ''The more they steal, the more they crave. If the officials thinks that every on-going and unsolved crimes plastered on the news by the media will scare the criminals away because they are apparently doing their best to find the suspects and pull them out of wherever hole they are hiding, they're wrong. The cops wouldn't be forced to  use their best assets and experience sleepless nights if the criminals are not doing well at their job, right? Those announcements of endless searchings and calls for the people's help only pats the wanted people on their back, telling them they've done an excellent mayhem job.

Sometimes, I don't even know who to blame when crimes, like this kind, happens. Is it the criminals themselves because they lost their morals over materialistic things? Because they gave in to the urge of possessing those that goes beyond what they can comprehend? Is it the police for not hearing the reason why these criminals have done it? Is it the society who embodies judgemental and discriminating in all sorts of way that probably pushed them to do such things? Or is it the government who failed to make education and employment accessible to everyone no matter what their status in life is?''

Kicking a pebble out of your way, it creates a dull thudding sounds. ''Proper education and enabling people to have a grasp of legal source of income would probably prevent crimes from happening. I'd like to think that most are just desperate measures.''

Mark hums. ''What you said are somewhat right. They makes sense.''

''But.. ?'' You know there's more that he itches to say.

''But, as much as everyone deserves to be heard and understood, some are just born evil. Born without remorse for others. It'll surprise you how we encounter many people such them in our daily lives. So avoid thinking that criminals did what they've done because they had a traumatic and devastating life. You're unknowingly justifying the ends by their means, something you cannot do especially if the lives of innocents are on the line.''

It's unclear why Mark sounds firm and sure regarding of meeting the people he just talked about but since their existence is not exactly a secret from the whole world, you suppose he's correct.

Too caught up in your conversation, your feet reached the entrance of your dorm's building in no time. Turning around, you offer a cheeky smile at him. ''Thank heavens then that I don't need to worry about my safety.''

Mark returns your smile with a hearty scoff. He knows where this is going. ''Uh-huh, and why is that?''

''Because I have Spiderman as my best friend! You'll protect me, won't you spidey?'' Giggling, Mark nudges your arm as you walk side by side, resorting to shaking his head instead of joining your spiderman agenda.

Spiderman or not, Mark vows to himself to keep you away from the darkness of this world with all his might. He already lost his uncle, he couldn't afford to lose someone so dear to his heart once again.

The alarm blares loudly and pierces your ear drums, almost busting them yet you didn't make any effort of getting up. The ringing sounds extra loud today, though. Ah.. you don't really want to wake up. Your body shifts to a new position, hands searching where your phone lays.

Definitely, no one wants to wake up before the roosters crows in a weekend where you should be using all your time to rest in preparation of yet another tiring week.

Skin making a contact with the source of the sound, you didn't feel any vibration with it. Just as when you decided to go back to sleep and withstand the annoying ringing of the alarm, rapid knocks on your door overpowered the previous sound, effectively pulling you out of the borderline between dreamland and reality.

You sit up. ''Fuck--'' It is only then that you realized, the alarm isn't coming from your usual alarm clock. Instead, it is the fire alarm ringing and announcing the state of your building.

With panic taking over your emotions, your body moves fast. Getting all the things that you know is important before soaking a blanket in water, covering yourself with it, and finally running out to leaving your room. Tears pricks your eyes as you meet the fiery blaze engulfing the whole building, enclosing in with every blink and every breath you take. You step a few backwards, lips quivering as you try to ignore the scorching heat seeping through the wet blanket, threatening to burn your skin any minute. Your eyes wavers.

There's so many ways you could die but dying helplessly amidst of an arson is not what you fancy. A scream of horror couldn't even be used to express your fear, you remain quiet and whimpering despite the shivering of your body, arms hugging yourself.

Your doors shut close once again, your back leaning against it as you falls to the ground, drops of tears continuously running down your cheeks. The fire started from a floor below yours, or at least that's what it seemed like. Meaning you absolutely have no chance of escaping the flames unless you jump out of your window. Surely, you're somehow survive a fall from the 5th floor, right?

A rattle created somewhere in your house snaps you out of your nonlogical thoughts. Looking up, you don't know whether to believe your eyes or rub the surface of your orbs, taking a second look in case what you're seeing is just a figment of your imagination. Maybe you're slowly losing some screws in the head.

But the movement of the figure, jogging towards you, tells you otherwise. ''What the fuck.. ?''

It's real.

It's him.

It's Spiderman in the fucking flesh.

Once again, you are stolen from your trance by his arms gently pulling you up, steadying you. Without much of a warning, the superhero scoops you in his arms and flies out of the window. And holy fuck, does it scared the shit out of you that the fibers of your body started to scream nothing but hold on tight to the man who's swinging down the building with you.

The uncalled adventure ended before you could even processed that your building is currently burning down, you got stucked between the fire and now Spiderman just saved you. No one should be able to blame you if you take days to properly digest what just happened.

He stands before you for a few more seconds, as if raking down his eyes. You tilt your head when he nods and runs to save the others. ''The fuck.. ?'' For the nth of the day, you let out a curse.

Your brain is totally playing with you. There's no fucking way Spiderman helped you, made sure that you got no wounds slash you're safe and sound before nodding as if to assure himself. Johnny is gonna combust if he's to hear your story.

The comfort of the thick blanket engulfs your figure as you hold your cellphone and wallet in your hand. Sighing, you turn to Jaehyun who came to your aid at this goddamn hour. ''You don't really have to stay with me, Jay. Pretty sure this'll end in an hour or so, you can go back now.''

Stubbornly, the male shakes his head. ''Did you know how worried we are when we heard from Mark that your dorm was on fire? Johnny and Haechan almost even flew out of Busan just to make sure you're alright.''

''Dude, I'm really fine, I promise. I can manage this, just rest.''

His hand pushes your head lightly to lay on his shoulder. ''No, you rest.''

Giving up, you let yourself relax, leaning your weigh towards Jaehyun as you pull the blanket tighter around you. The dreamland train is ready to send you to your slumber when your eyes opens abruptly, realizing what Jaehyun just said.

''Jay?''

He hums.

''From whom did you heard about the fire again?''

''Uh.. Mark?''

''And where is he right now?''

''... Dunno, maybe he's somewhere that's why he couldn't come.''

Your silence tells Jaehyun you're not convinced by his reason.

He silently prays Mark doesn't kick his ass.

2 hours passed and you decided to make Jaehyun drop you off on Mark's place, opting to stay there until everything's alright back at your apartment. It is proven that the male's walls have nothing against your persistent whines as you now lay on Mark's bed, scrolling through your phone.

Ever since stepping a foot here few minutes ago, you didn't catch nor sense Mark's presence. In usual days, it's Mark who zooms from wherever he is to your place once the news of something happening to you reaches him. But today, it was Jaehyun instead.

Your thoughts ponders to where it has been circling earlier. A voice inside you says something you surprisingly don't find hard to believe. Maybe it was your best friend who found you first after all, just not in his signature beanie and all black outfit.

''That's dumb. I should stop joining Johnny and Jaehyun with their shenanigans.''

You must've gone crazy now that you're talking to yourself.

''What's so crazy about that? Doesn't everyone talks to themselves at least once? It's not like it's so bad. According to scientists, taking to yourself brings you comfort and such.''

Of course, that's bullshit. You hate reading anything that involves science.

''Mark is not the superhero who got bitten by a magical spider that turned him into a man who saves the people from fire and crimes. Mark is just your stupid of a best friend that thinks putting strawberries in a microwave is a good idea because he likes his fruits warm. Mark is your best friend who's scared of cockroaches so how come he's a hero whose powers came from a spider? Mark is not Spiderman--''

Wrong. Absolutely Wrong.

Your claims got debunked right after you lay them down. You're absolutely fucking wrong.

The superhero whom you got to meet earlier, now stands in front of you once again. Hissing at what seemed to be a burn, unaware of the other presence inside the room, the mask comes off of his head, revealing the face the media and government would pay billions of money to see.

All this time, the jokes that Johnny and Jaehyun threw weren't all bullshit. Because the moment Spiderman turns out, the familiar chestnut shade eyes meets yours, effectively stilling both of your figures.

Holy motherfucking shit.

Spiderman IS Mark Lee.

''...''

''...''

''...''

''... let's treat your burn first.''

The hero nods like a puppy.

''Ouch! At least dab it gently. I may have powers but immunity to stings isn't one of them, you know?'' That only pushes you to dab the cotton pad harder on his burnt skin, earning a yelp.

''You deserve that after hiding this secret from us for how many years.''

''Who said I hid it from all of you? Johnny and Jaehyun have known about this months ago.'' Your glare scares the superhero embarrassingly. To be fair, it's not like Mark intended to let the duo know. It was accidental.

''And you didn't even dare to tell me, your literal best friend?'' You know exactly why he didn't want to risk revealing his secret even with those he trusts the most, you just don't know how to properly mask the worry inside you.

Mark, instead, smirks. ''Just say you're worried, it's not that bad to admit it, you know?'' He's right.

Your finger fumbles the cotton, eyes staring deeply to Mark's as you weigh the outcomes if you say the very sentence that lays at the tip of your tongue. The hem of your shirt moves, courtesy of Mark of playing with them.

Fuck it.

No one knows who leans in to who, all you know is that you desire to take more than the heat coming from Mark's tongue on yours. His arm wraps around your waist, flipping your position so you would be the one to lay on the bed, hovering your figure as his kisses travels down to your neck. Whimpers escapes your lips, hand threading the brown strands while the other feels the firm chest through his suit.

Your clothes soon flies to god knows where, the chilly wind bites through your bare skin but the flames of Mark's tongue licking every surface he can eases it. The lips comes back to meet yours one more time, devouring every area that he can reach. It's nothing like you expected to experience from Mark.

It's fierce, hot, and needy.

Wet sounds of kissing echoes through the silence of the room, rustling clothes accompanying it as Mark takes off his suit.

Fingers ghosting over the line that serves as an entrance to your core, your breath hitches. They entered Mark's mouth first, sucking and licking before pulling them out full of saliva just for the show. Finally dipping inside you, a sigh couldn't help but to be let out. It's deep, something you're unable to do whenever you're left to fend for yourself.

Mark gets on it, inserting one after another with little rest in between until he feels you're stretched enough for him. You pant, the angry red tip touching and tracing the line of your pussy, enough to send you desperate. So desperate that you whine and grinds your hips upwards to meet his length.

Caging you in his embrace, Mark's lips stays on yours as his cock slowly but smoothly slides past your opening, the veins rubbing along your walls enough to receive a quiet moan from you. There's a slight sting caused by the stretched of Mark's girthy dick but that's what you wanted, for it to hurt even a bit. In order for you could feel Mark fully.

''Good?''

''So good.''

Mark chuckles, observing your facial expression as he makes circles with his hips, hand caressing your sides in a comforting way. When he senses that you've gotten used to his cock sliding in and out of your entrance, he with no doubts quickens his pace. He starts fucking.

Screams of his name along with vulgar profanity fills the apartment, loud skin slapping fuelling the hunger for release. ''More, more, more-- fuck, Mark, please.''

The male grunts. God, just your calls of his name is enough to make him come. It takes him a lot of self-control to prevent his climax from raining on him quickly. With the determination of bringing you over the edge, his hips snaps harder, harsher and faster.

The way his tip gets caught on your walls before fully pulling out is hypnotizing. Hands gripping the pillow beside your head, Mark changes his angle a bit and that's when you scream his name loud enough for the neighbors to complain tomorrow. Mercilessly, Mark's bulbous tip jabs on your spot dead on continuously, giving you no time to catch some air.

His mouth attaches to your skin as he paints it with love bruises, a remembrance of your activity. ''Aah, shit-- are you close, baby? Are you gonna come around my cock? Tighten your-- fuck-- walls around me until I can't fucking-- aah-- breathe?''

You nod, chanting his name like a mantra as you plead him to bring you the mind numbing pleasure. Scratching his back, nails digging and creating crescent moon shapes on his skin-- Mark finds himself only getting closer to coming. His fingers wraps themselves around your wrist, placing your palm on the expanse of his neck. Mark groans when he feels the pleasuring grip on the sides of his throat, eyes rolling to the back as the perfect press sends him to his peak.

With your walls pulsating around him, white cream creating a customized ring for his cock, Mark thrusts once, twice, trice and a few more before he pulls out. Ribbons of white makes itself known on your stomach through the warmth it radiates. His head is thrown to the back as his mouth falls apart, moaning your name.

Minutes passes by and it was only then that Mark came to his senses, laying carefully beside you. Despite just having his cock inside you not long ago, Mark visibly stills when you wrap your arms around his waist. You chuckle.

''Any secrets you have that you want to tell me?'' Whispering against his shoulder, Mark gains the courage of placing his arm to hug you side ways. He smiles, staring at the ceiling.

''If I didn't know any better, I'd say that smiles means you like me.''

''Well, do you?''

''Do I what?''

''Know better.''

Giggles of happiness echoes the bedroom.

It is night and your heels clicking the floor is heard along the quiet alley. You purses your lips, hands buried in the pockets of your jacket to hide from the freezing cold of the night. Eyes remaining to the ground, you steps comes to a halt when you sense another presence just behind you.

The shadow shows an upside down figure of someone, a strange yet familiar way. You turn around with no fear, smile of adore dawning your face as the sight of your boyfriend waiting greets you.

''Hi,'' Softly, you caress his upside down face. ''The people are waiting for you to save them, spidey.''

''Can I get my good luck? So I'd know someone is waiting for me to get back home?'' Chuckle rumbles on your chest as you pinch his cheek.

Your fingers tugs the hem of his mask, enough to reveal the naturally red yet slightly chapped lips that you love. Pressing a loving kiss, you hoped that Mark was able to decipher all the feelings you've put.

''Can I tell you a secret?''

You didn't wait a respond from him.

''I love you.''

You peck his lips.

''So damn much.''

You fix his mask and ensure that it wouldn't slip off of him.

''Be careful while saving the world, will you? I wouldn't know what to do if I lose mine.''

With one last kiss through the fabric of his mask, Mark vows that after helping the people, he will come back safely-- to his very own home, his own world.

[nightunite]

Haha, it is I again!

So how does Konig feel about their lessons? Does he look forward to them? Are they just to be a good employer? I’m sure he’s glad to see reader being able to get along better with people right? And when reader is fluent enough to not need lessons how does he feel?

(I’m not expecting an answer to all of these, or any of these, pick and choose at your leisure)

Huehuehue

Agent L 🕵️‍♀️

You love stirring the pot don't you? Naughty Wackus Bonkus (keep doing it, it gives me something to look forward to) Here's another attempt at Konig. I expected it to come out somewhat muddled, because to be honest neither he nor I know how to process his widdle feewings:

Konig is...conflicted. He's never been a man too in touch with his emotions, preferring to simply retreat to the outdoors when things became too much. Out between the trees and along the streams, he could feel less confined and the emotional slurry at rest, steadily sifted through until the muddied mixture dissipated into nothing and he could return inside where whatever caused them was settled. Unfortunately, he couldn't do so this time around, for the problem in this instance was of his own making, and rooted quite firmly in the barony. With a heavy sigh he closes the book he was pretending to read, instead looking out onto the small greenhouse. Inside he could make out several bodies, his maids who had taken to enjoying the warmth, as well as the company of the newest maid. They laid claim to the greenhouse for an hour or so when they could between tasks, insisting on teaching her further than just the times she and Konig arranged. His chest feels odd at the reminder, the emotions making him feel not-quite ill but certainly not well. He's grateful in a way, to have others teaching her their language. He knows he's not the most verbose in either tongue, direct and oftentimes blunt to avoid misunderstandings and awkward slip-ups in conversation. He'd much rather go to war and get shot again than put his foot in his mouth and insult someone at court in view of everyone. Ah, just the thought of the eyes and whispers heats his skin, turns him red and prickly and sets his leg bouncing in anxiety.

So yes, it's good her peers assist her in learning the twists and turns and at the same time it...not irritates him, but leaves him restless. No employer wants his staff at odds, so these meetings are good, especially when he hears them chattering as they fold laundry or wipe down the dining room. He doesn't have an ear for most gossip, he leaves that to Annika and Felix (though he won't admit to it), but if it gives them something to bond over then he'll let the halls fill with the most recent story of whose pants had to be let out at the tailor's, or whose dress was clearly ill-conceived. He does wish they would stop having these chats so late at night though, they need their sleep after all. Especially Hirscht, given her condition...

"My lord, I have something I must confess. You see, I am...with child." She had admitted roughly a week ago, hands wringing into her dress as she cowered before him like a child before a stern parent. It was reminiscent of their first meeting a little over a month ago (and how novel is that, how much she seems to bloom in such a short time in his presence?) when she seemed convinced he would send her away without a second glance. "I assure you, my condition will not hinder my work! I will continue to uphold the standards placed upon me when I was employed-" His ears didn't register the remainder of her words, brain refusing to translate the rapidly spoken English. He was distressed at how quickly she curled into herself, worried that she viewed him as a threat to her safety like what (or more likely who) she ran from in the first place. "I understand that this could cause complications down the line, and I apologize-" "Du arbeitest zu viel." "Beg pardon?" "Du arbeitest zu viel. Always beregen, huschen and herumhüpfen around, cleaning as if the Teufel is after you. You should have said something sooner, hirscht. You must be more careful." He crossed his arms, looking down at her as he lightly chastised her. "You're not mad?" She asked him, eyes watery in a way that made him fearful she would burst into tears. Lieber Gott, how he hated when women cried near him, he never knew what to do. "Nein, not at you for being a mother soon. That is not an issue, you have your place here. But you should have said something sooner, you shouldn't be running yourself ragged. You are fragile now, ja?" "Not entirely, I can still work, my lord! I'm not too far along for concern, per the doctor!" She was frantic, stepping closer to him despite him assuring her she wouldn't be cast out into the cold. Did she think him a liar? Had he not proved himself a fair employer? "You need your rest-" "I need to do my share-" She kept trying to plead her case to him, and he felt his brows furrow at her stubbornness. "What are you afraid of? I am not firing you." He sighed through his nose. People were always so complicated, like trying to pry open a clam without breaking the shell. "I don't want to be a burden on the others." She sniffed, wiping at her face with her sleeve. "I-the others, they are nett to me? I don't want them to have to do my work." In a smaller tone, just barely audible, she whispered, "I don't want them to hate me." He resisted the sudden urge to coo at her, his little hirscht, the earnest fondness she had for his workers. It startled him, the sudden affection exploding in his chest like a dandelion puff. Instead, he cleared his throat, loosening his stance. "They will not hate you. You have shown much effort here. You are not the first to have a baby here. Be prepared to have no peace though. Some of them wanted to be midwives." The slight laugh he got from her eased the strings pulled taut around his heart, shoulders dropping tension. "Thank you, sir." Konig blinks, returning to the present as he sees his maids, Emily and Joanna, accompanying her out of the greenhouse back into the barony proper. Joanna carried the tea set they must have snuck from the kitchen, while the others led the way. It brought a smile to his face, truly. He loves seeing those he is responsible for content. However... He can't help the sourness that wells up like morning dew in him when he is reminded that he is not the only one who holds his newest maid's attention. Reluctant to admit it, he is fond of their time together, of having someone who looks at him beyond being a noble, a man of power even if he refuses to wield it. Informal lessons between the two in which he could simply speak to another person, the fear of crossing an unseen boundary like a tripwire forgotten, a chance to simply have a conversation with someone. A hope not given voice of a potential friend in this foreign and frigid land, something he craved more than he expected.

How was he to build on this tentative thing in a way that wasn't imposing upon her without the lessons? To show he sought her time and company though not in the way most men of his station would? No matter how few times they had spoken, it left him yearning for more. For the first time in years, he wants to speak with someone, to listen and respond in kind, beyond the required civility. These thoughts, these feelings, threatening to choke him like kudzu around the oak, ensnaring him entirely. With a groan, he shoves his hands under his shroud, dragging them down his face. He would have to sell his soul and ask Annika for advice. May he never know peace again.

@beloveds-embrace Imma just start tagging you

[the-s1lly-corner]

Giving them flowers (creepypasta)

Might make a part 2 might not idk I guess we'll see what ends up happening!

Characters: slenderman, masky, hoodie, ticci toby

Notes: reader is GN, they're the one giving the flowers, admin doesnt know much about flowers so no specific ones are mentioned

Cws: none

SLENDERMAN

sticking with the idea that he doesnt interact much with people, much less in a romantic sense, he doesnt fully realize the flowers are a gesture in order to show you care for him

would prefer you to plant flowers rather than taking them from the ground, the flowers will die otherwise :(

mimics your gifts by leaving something for you on your table back at home when you arent looking, either something from the forest or something taken from elsewhere

generally doesnt expect gifts from you but getting them every now and then is always nice... even if hes just humoring your human way of showing affection

MASKY

doesnt realize the flowers are for him if you just get them, youll need to actually give them to him for him to make the connection

more of a gifts that have function guy instead of a just because gift guy, wont return the flowers though

may forget to put them into some water to keep them fresh for longer, the thought just doesnt cross his mind

if you picked them yourself hes a little less surprised about them being handed to him, more than likely he was watching you walk around collecting them... you just didnt notice him

will leave you a gift on your nightstand, you wont see him leaving it though... it kind of just appears

HOODIE

similar to masky he doesnt quiet know what to do with the flowers but at least he has the thought to put them in some water somewhere

will give you something in return, something he knows you like... something physical, or an action... whichever you prefer!

i can see him picking some flowers for you, not a lot... a small bundle to give to you, the kind of flowers you see growing at sidewalks every now and then

has them nicely bundled together and puts them somewhere he knows you'll find them

TICCI TOBY

doesnt know what to do with them but he keeps them on him regardless because you gave them to him and he doesnt want to toss them

will pull flowers out of the ground to give to you to try to match your energy- the... roots and dirt are still in tact but its the thought that counts and what seemed like urgency to even the score is... a little endearing.. though let him know he doesnt need to immediately get you something in return!

keeps some of the dried up dead petals in his pocket when the flowers eventually wilt and die off, to him its kind of like a lucky charm

you gave them to him so they have to be good, even if he knows its just what he believes- it brings some level of comfort, too

[finalgirllx]

Mattheo Riddle Headcanons

From someone who only recently got into him. I could be wrong, since I can't trace back his roots much. Some of these are inspired by other writings, Marcus Lopez in Deadly Class, and my own bot usage.

I wrote this in about 5 minutes. Just a warning.

Mattheo is, of course, reserved around those he isn't close to. He tends to act cold, and will go as far to make himself seem threatening if he feels like it (whether that's actually true or not is your interpretation).

If he does something kind for someone without being asked, he prefers to let it go unmentioned. "Thanks for getting that for me." "Yeah, yeah, If you tell anyone, I'll kill you."

Scorpio, Scorpio, Scorpio! This is the one time I'll assign my star sign to a character because it fits him so well, along with his face claim being a Scorpio as well.

Mattheo loves The Smiths. There is no arguing there. This is definitely Marcus inspired, but it is just so nice.

He wears black almost exclusively. It is just his go-to and fits his general vibe. If he must, he'll go for a neutral-toned checkered flannel or jean jacket when it gets cold.

Mattheo has immaculate handwriting. Like, people look at his work and can't help but stare because they're surprised at the quality of it.

He drinks black coffee in the mornings, and that's it.

Does get into a lot of fights. And he wins all of them. However, unlike what others may think, he tries to give someone a chance to out themselves from a potential fight before he goes in.

Loves the horror genre. He talks up paranormal horror as the superior subgenre but will sit down and enjoy just about any kind.

He is a Resident Evil fan (Resident Evil 1 came out in 1996, so this is for slightly more modern au's).

His closest friends are Theo and Blaise, but he gets along well with Enzo and has an okay relationship with Draco.

He is knowledgeable and a strong critical thinker but doesn't care much about academics. Besides Defense Against The Dark Arts, he is really talented at Potions.

'Claims' people. His icy demeanor is rather tough to break; once he lets you in, it's like a switch is flipped, and he's more possessive and protective than anyone could've anticipated.

Has a mean jealous streak. This has been known, lol.

I think he prefers cats - but honestly, I see him being hesitant towards pets. He is still sweet toward them and would be a love bug with a pet of his own, but I can see a pet approaching him, and he wouldn't know what to do at first, haha. 

Mattheo is sarcastic to his core. Shows his affection through teasing. But he can be quite serious and good at knowing the right words to support someone when needed.

Slight NSFW implications - incredibly dominant, and there's nothing you can do to change my mind that's not his preferred mode 99% of the time.

To see Mattheo's sweet side is a real treat, but he keeps that part for whom he adores the most.

His love language is physical touch and its not even close. If he falls for you, he'll always make sure to be touching you in any way that is possible at that instance.

[mosscreektarot]

Pick An Image: Who will you MARRY?

All about your FS!

To book a personal reading, DM me or visit my Etsy: https://mosscreekpsychic.etsy.com

Group 1~ Top Left

Group 2~ Top Right

Group 3~ Bottom Left

Group 4~ Bottom Right

Group 1: Liberation: "The Doubts and Fears still come up; you don't believe anymore that they're you."

Your FS sees your "brokenness" and loves the light shining through your cracks. You've been dealt a rough hand in the matters of love, and your FS understands your trauma. Your FS supports you by CHOOSING you. Again and again, no matter what, your FS chooses you. This steadiness and steadfastness to them is love.

Your FS is a bit of a loner, preferring to enjoy the company of few, rather than casting a wide social net. They are an outdoorsy person, frequently camping, hiking, and staying up till morning just to watch the sunrise. Your FS is kind of scatterbrained ("where are my keys!?"), but HIGHLY intelligent. Your FS is the type of person to observe in social settings rather than put themselves in the mix.

Your FS may come from a different country/ethnic background than you, and has deep cultural roots they are proud of. They do things differently than most people and are never phased by the judgement of others.

Group 2: Right Now: "Stay in the present and don't get too far ahead of the Flow. You'll soon trust that nothing more will come than can be handled each moment."

Your FS is one of the most honest people you know. Sometimes their insight into your mind is a little creepy. They are gentle and kind but are unafraid to speak their mind, even if it hurts some feelings or steps on toes. Your FS is the type of person who loves to debate in the comment section and is really fucking good at it. Not to say they are argumentative, but if they see someone saying/doing something blatantly wrong they will not hesitate to put that person in their place when necessary.

Your FS may struggle with their mental health/self care at times and is extremely good at masking their true feelings. To everyone else they are the happiest, bubbliest, most outgoing person. It's not a lie, but there is a duality between their public and private self.

This could be someone you already know who provides you with guidance and support, never letting you guess they are in need of the same. Your FS is their own harshest critic and is constantly working to better themselves. They are a warm and loving person with a pink and blue aura. You may feel like this person could ~never~ be interested in you or is out of your league but your intuition is wrong in that regard!

Group 3:

Change: "When the ego finally sees the utter madness of trying to control everything, you come to a sacred crossroads in your own evolution."

Your FS is a spiritual "go with the flow" type of person. They believe everything happens for a reason, and live very unconventionally. They're the kind of person who communes with trees and spends their free time barefoot in the grass. "Wild and free"~positive vibes, the type of person to look for the best in every situation, no matter how dark or dire. Loves social gatherings and connecting with new people. Your FS may come off as a bit awkward in social settings sometimes, but despite that are well-received and liked.

Your FS is always smiling and wants to bring the sunshine into your life every single day.

Your FS may be a little out of touch with reality and believe they can positively affirm their way out of situations which cannot be changed. They're the kind of person who would get sick and refuse to go to the doctor for a month, even if it's really bad because they think they will magically get better through willpower alone. Your FS will need to find a balance between their spiritual self and mundane reality. They may need you to be the "authority figure" in their life when necessary.

Your FS is disciplined and responsible when it comes to their career and finances. Oddly enough they have a very "serious" career like an accountant or lawyer and make a lot of money. They spend a lot of it on crystals though ;) .

Group 4:

Gratitude: "Fill me with gratitude for all You give! May I be a vehicle for You wherever I go."

Your FS is an introvert who likes to spend their time with their nose in a book at home with their cats. They love to help others and often rush around trying to provide assistance to anyone who asks. They are the kind of person who sees a car on the side of the highway and pulls over to change their tire.

Your FS is pretty quiet and likes to keep their thoughts to themselves. It can be hard to read them or to get them to talk about how they feel. They have their reasons, so please be patient with them. They are a slow and methodical person who always makes lists and ticks off the boxes of what they need to do in life. They live by a routine and aren't one to make rash or reckless decisions.

They often feel left out of their family/friend circle and feel like nobody understands them or that people wouldn't like the "real" them if they said what was actually on their minds. When you come into the picture they let go of a breath they have been holding their entire life. You connect with them in a way they never thought possible and they realize that it's okay to be themselves and that there is such a thing as "true love". They are forever grateful for your presence in their life and show it to you every day by bringing you tea in bed or buying little presents to show you they are always thinking of you.