#where they actually serve at least one thing i know i will like so that i can actually eat some dinner at dinner. god forbid i want to eat
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troglobite · 3 days ago
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(i agree w op and it's a good point; i'm pushing back against a couple things in this second addition/rb & some implications in the op, as well. still not trying to be argumentative, but push the conversation further & challenge certain entrenched ideas. bc again, i agree & am coming from that angle.)
hotter take: the demonization of "ultraprocessed foods" is damaging no matter what. highly recommend this nutritionist for any info abt that. if [general, not op/rb] you won't listen to me, maybe [general] you will listen to a thin and licensed nutritionist.
the intent here is good: don't deprive your child of unifying and delightful social experiences. let them enjoy food. don't give them complexes about food. don't micromanage your child's diet to the point where they resent it, etc.
but also, maybe, just let them enjoy food. and teach/show them how! they are CHILDREN. unless they have allergies, sensitivities, or other serious health concerns, they will be FINE if they eat some candy MOST days of the week for various stretches of time. or ANYTHING sweet. or salty. basically every person in the world (with medical exceptions, exceptions for taste/preference, etc.) would be fine having at least 1 dessert every day. (and also this is only using "health" as a reference, which is a Whole Thing in and of itself)
maybe, also, as is the solution to most things: simply treat children like people who are just learning how things work.
instead of limiting what they eat without their involvement, instead of demonizing food and scaring them away from it or shaming them, or even acting like certain kinds of diets are even accessible to most people, how about we instead:
teach kids abt what we currently know abt how food works. why do they crave sugar and salt? why do these foods taste really good, and these ones don't? can we make them taste better? sometimes tastes change over time, so every few years we can try this food again, if you're up for it. how do you feel after you eat A LOT of food, regardless of what it is? what do you want to eat at different times? how do different foods make you feel? what kinds of tastes do you like? here are traditional and culturally relevant foods, and how/why they're important. how do we MAKE food? what abt food safety?
give them knowledge and choice in what they eat and how they eat it and when.
this is only possible if we education ourselves abt food, as well! which is why education around this is so important. but even the basics: hunger is this, food gives you energy, you need different kinds of energy, you probably should have a wide variety of it, etc.
for example, there is no such thing as junk food, there's just food. nutrition isn't just about calories or vitamins, etc., it's also abt social connection (covered well in this post), cultural connection, and emotional regulation.
it also looks different for everybody. no two people will require the same kinds of food in the same amounts prepared in the same ways. and what we know about nutrition is actually quite limited! not to say what we have is Completely Wrong, but that it's silly to paint with such a broad brush when we keep having to research and revise--and there are so many factors to health and diet that are difficult to account for, and make each person's needs individual. food & movement aren't the only two. and your socioeconomic status & geographic location control what you eat way more than anything else.
"ultraprocessed food" serves so many purposes: it lasts longer, it's typically more reliable and widely available, it's generally more affordable, and it's, crucially, more consistent and predictable, which is a HUGE thing for children (not even speaking of neurodivergent people in general). for ppl who can't afford the money or time of fresh foods, "ultra processed foods" are GREAT. (and they're also great for anyone who loves them)
if you have a problem with them, take it up with the government! we can have "ultra processed foods" that don't hurt people--it's the hormone disruptors and unnecessary food dyes that are the problem. they're outlawed elsewhere. we could follow their lead. preservation of foods isn't inherently bad. (and on the labor side, again, take it up with the govt: all workers deserve to be safe at work, protected, have a more than livable wage, benefits, etc.)
all of this is an overarching pipe dream about how we talk abt, teach abt, and interact with food, particularly as it pertains to raising our kids. but that's the point i'm going for here.
op is completely right, as is the addition; my hackles rise against "more wholesome foods" and "ultra processed foods" and the "let them have it every once in a while". you can go a month eating "junk" food (again, no such thing), and unless you have particular allergies or health concerns, you'll probably be fine.
determinants of health are so much bigger than what we eat and what we physically do.
so when it comes to teaching kids about food, we have to stop categorizing some foods as bad and others as good. it seems to be easier, but oversimplifying things for kids never goes well. if you're gonna simplify, at least be accurate and at least don't give them fucked up complexes abt shit.
tree nuts are WIDELY considered a Good Food. but they hurt me and could possibly even kill me, because i'm allergic.
fresh greens are WIDELY considered a Good Food. but they're raw, uncooked, and staring down the barrel of fewer safety regulations--so not only are they inconsistent in quality and texture (bad for kids & anyone with sensitive tastes), but they're also riskier. and ALSO, i have hEDS, and my body Cannot Digest fresh greens very well. (if accessible, an opportunity to teach kids abt where food comes from and maybe grow your own! but also [stares at heavy metals in most of the US soil] so y'know. ymmv.)
they're no better or worse than an "ultra processed" version of greens. that includes things like salsa, flavored veggie smoothies, premade soups, frozen veggies, etc.
the sum of my response to op & addition is: yes, absolutely. but also, there are no bad or good foods, and nutrition is more complicated than that. as per uszh, the solution is to treat kids like people and give them what knowledge you can, then let them make their own choices.
and the sum of everything else is: basically what i wish more people knew so that they COULD teach their kids that stuff. and also for themselves! and also this doesn't even get into the concept of "health" as a Whole Fucking Thing.
This is a controversial take that everyone will hate but it's one thing to feed your kid better, more wholesome food than twinkies and hot pockets daily, it's another thing to force them to adhere to a crunchy granola beige colored diet where they cant share the snacks their peers are eating or have a normal childhood or have fun. None of you were raised like that and if you were you know what im talking about.
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kawoala · 1 day ago
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I love ur work and profile and u seem so amazing, if u are taking request could u pls pls write for an ushijima x ice skater reader?
If not u can ignore
Have a good day/night <33
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⁝ USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI 𝜗𝜚 glorified hot potato 𝜗𝜚
ᰔ word count ; 645
ᰔ content warning ; veerery minor themes of “i’m so much better than other people” 、 low key love at first sight 、 cousin! oikawa 、 teasing said cousin! oikawa.
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when you were a kid, you never pictured your life turning out like this.
going to university on a full-ride scholarship for ice skating? of course. you’d been skating your whole life, so it was no surprise when it had come in the mail. being one of the best skaters on the team? of course.
standing in the bleachers of your university, surrounded by your fellow classmates - who smell, by the way - as they cheer loudly for said university’s infamous volleyball team? absolutely not.
you don’t even like other sports, you’re not really sure how you let your friends convince you to come to a volleyball game of all things. the sport itself is boring, you think. they pass the ball around a couple times and if they drop it too many times, they lose. it’s a glorified hot potato.
even so, there’s this guy on the court that you just… can’t take your eyes off. he’s tall and he’s big and his facial expression says he’d rather be anywhere else - most of the time.
most of the time, his face is lax, void of any emotion except boredom. most of the time, his jaw is clenched, eyes slightly narrowed as the ball moves around the court.
but then he hits the ball. he hits the ball and his brows pinch together in concentration. his mouth stays shut, but his nose scrunches up as he puts all of his strength into hitting the ball.
you decide right then and there that you need to know who this man is. you turn to one of your friends, nudging her shoulder. when she looks over, smile on her face, you grab her shoulders and lightly shake her. “i need to know who number eleven is.” you point down to the court just as he serves the ball over the net, scoring a point. “oh my god, kiyo, look at him. just- please tell me. i- i’m losing my mind, i think.”
she stares at you for a moment, a look of bewilderment in her eyes. she’s used to you scoffing at other sports, you laughing at how hard other people have to try to be good at their sport. but this? this is… different and you know it.
“um,” she starts, eyes drifting to the court as well. “number eleven? that’s ushijima. he’s a… second year, i think? i heard he went to shiratorizawa in high school.”
“ushijima,” you repeat, nodding. “ushijima. ushijima.” your brows slowly furrow. “ushijima- where have i heard that name before?”
kiyo shrugs. “he was like, kind of famous. his school was top of the ranks, i think. don’t take my word for this, though, because i’m not actually sure for certain.”
you’re too busy thinking to even register what she’s said. you’re thinking and thinking and thinking until - oh.
you pull out your phone and, in the middle of the large, smelly, noisy crowd, you call your least favorite cousin. he picks up on the second ring.
“y/n?”
“oikawa!” you exclaim. you plug one of your ears and hunch down, trying to hear better. “hey- who was that kid that wanted you to come to his school and you spent your whole high school career trying to beat him?”
“what?”
“the guy!” you exasperate, rolling your eyes. “the guy who was really good. was his name ushijima?”
“…yeah. what about him? why are you asking about him?”
you pause, snicker, then ask, “how funny would it be if i brought him home for thanksgiving?”
“what?! y/n, absolutely not! i will never speak to you agai-”
you hang up the phone and stand up straight again, eyes focusing on the court once more. your future husband is back on the court, eyes slightly narrowed, jaw clenched - just how you like it.
looks like you’ve got a new assignment this semester.
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notmorbid · 2 days ago
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all-night pharmacy.
dialogue prompts from all-night pharmacy by ruth madievsky.
you're so alive, it's scary.
being a person doesn't come naturally for me.
what's the deal with this place?
you are my best and my worst friend.
are we horrible people?
i like the idea of having someone to come home to.
i can't tell if you're being cruel or if you're just dumb.
these aren't the decisions of a well-adjusted person.
the less you know about my life, the better.
everyone here is a liar and a cheat.
you deserve to have a life of your own.
a person can't be held responsible for what they don't know.
all relationships are transactional.
no one should have that much power over you.
it isn't too late to come back.
you're uninvited from my birthday party.
i love you, but you're such a cunt.
who do you think you are?
forced intimacy makes me lightheaded.
i know you're in there. let me in.
jesus. why do you have a knife?
what happened last night?
it was less embarrassing to pretend i didn't care.
maybe i'm not the mothering type.
i wish i could carry some of this pain for you.
i need a break from feeling so much all the time.
sometimes i can't tell if i'm asleep or awake.
whatever's going on, we'll figure it out.
i don't know what's wrong with me. i'm scared all the time.
this is the most i can imagine for myself.
if you're not asking yourself 'am i ruining my life?' at least once a day, you're not living at all.
you act like you're over it, but it's okay if you're not.
all my life, i've felt like a dead animal with its skin still on.
it's a virtue to rid yourself of anything that doesn't serve you.
i've never had a day of rest in my life.
i chase after you like a dog, leaving pieces of myself behind, and every time, you act like that's how it's supposed to be.
you don't take me seriously. i'm not a real person to you.
i can't play house anymore.
never say that name in front of me.
to you, other people are always the problem.
you can't reach a mutual understanding without spilling blood.
want to make fifty bucks?
the only way to really see a person is to lose everything you have in common.
you don't think we'll get caught?
our loyalty is to story, not reality.
just don't do anything that could result in a lawsuit or a tmz article, and you're fine.
i don't have the energy to keep up with your antics.
our most beloved delusion was that lying to each other was a kind of love.
speaking our fears aloud won't save us.
one day, the mask slipped. i haven't been able to wear it since.
i try not to think about my life at all.
a junkie can spot another junkie without a flashlight.
your voice reminds me of wool sweaters.
boundaries? i don't know her.
i'm just sick of doing the same goddamn thing every day.
you are obsessed with a projection that will never love you back.
think of me as a spiritually connected friend.
i know liars. you don't strike me as one.
you have iconically poor judgment.
has anyone ever told you about your past lives?
you're capable of tolerating a lot. frankly, more than you should.
friendship can be a slow burn. you don't have to consume it like a drink at last call.
i'll give you a clue. i work for myself.
you make me want to feel things again.
criticism is still a cousin of attention.
you don't have to pretend to like something just because i made it.
i know you crave being told what to do.
you don't have to settle for being a person things happen to.
you have desires. act on them.
bitch, does this look like an intro to philosophy seminar?
i thought i had quit you.
my favorite. how did you know?
i feel like my organs are cannibalizing each other.
how did i get here? that's not a rhetorical question. i'm actually asking.
i can't tell if i believe it, or if i'm making excuses for myself.
sometimes i wonder if it's healthy how much meaning you see in things.
you're always waiting for the universe to hurt you or to love you. usually in that order.
that's how it was in my family. reading the room was a survival skill.
where will all the animals go in the rapture?
a bunch of fuckups under one roof doesn't constitute a family.
my little saint.
time passes more slowly as a sober person.
you'd better not pull away from me now.
there's a russian proverb that goes, 'so much is ruined by saying it aloud'.
you wear your emotions like a name tag.
your resting face frightens me.
how are you both the most innocent and the most experienced person i've ever met?
i need you to just be here with me.
our dead deserve to see you happy.
i like the idea of being marked by you.
i don't know what i saw, but it was more than i wanted.
i know what i saw.
i can't tell which of the memories are real, if any.
i can't believe you're mine.
nobody warned me how terrifying it is to get what you want.
you're cute when you're freaked out.
sex is supposed to be unsettling.
there are things i need to atone for.
you can't go back like it's nothing.
i won't live in service of my dead's vision for me.
___ was a real person. a murder isn't a metaphor.
count five things you can see. four things you can touch. three things you can hear. two things you can smell. one thing you can taste.
banish one god, and you'll end up worshiping another.
i want to be with you, but i don't want to keep feeling like this.
you know everything about me, but you won't let me know you.
you aren't someone i can keep at a distance.
i've been reading about intergenerational curses.
resisting something isn't the same as not wanting it.
anything you say stays between us.
i can't decide if i like you.
most people only possess a third of the empathy they think they have.
will it get easier?
hope is a tricky thing: losing it is bad, but so is having too much.
i don't want the future to come. i have a bad feeling about it.
in cartoons, you don't start falling until you look down.
why are you here? where have you been?
how did you know i'd come looking for you?
you never asked what i was going through. you didn't want to know.
i didn't have the language for what was happening to me.
you were supposed to protect me.
there's a lot i don't remember. a lot i don't want to remember.
i wouldn't have looked for me, either.
we belong to ourselves now.
you know where i am, and i know where you are. maybe that's enough.
when i'm down, vigilante justice makes me feel better.
survival is provisional.
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unopenablebox · 8 months ago
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i admit that i find it a little bit frustrating how Wildly Astonished other antizionist jews act when i tell them my israeli jewish family have lived in the region since [some unknown length of time before 1800 when there start being records about it]
#and then they're like ''ohhh they're mizrahi!'' [connotation nonwhite‚ virtuously indigenous]#and i have to be like. no. it's just that‚ as palestine was in fact ottoman-administered greater syria for most of the last 600 years‚#you could get there from other parts of the ottoman empire. such as the part of now-ukraine your ashkenazi family is also from.#it wasn't actually a hermetically sealed arab-only ethnostate that evaporated immigrants on sight. it was a pretty decent place to live as#a jew by at least some accounts. or better than the front of the hapsburg-ottoman war anyway which is where they were coming from.#i'm not sure who you think it's serving exactly to believe that there were literally no ashkenazim in the middle east before the 1st aliyah#however there were some. and this information does not actually threaten a modern anti-state of israel position like at all.#but since apparently you've constructed your new Diaspora-Centric Identity around the idea that 'palestine' and 'diaspora'#are the two mutually exclusive nonoverlapping regions and the former is ontologically a no-european-jews-allowed zone#i guess i can give you a minute to try to figure it out.#ugh sorry this is nothing it isn't anything. for one thing it's fantastically unimportant#and for another thing i don't know how to like talk about it in a way that doesn't make me sound at least kind of like im trying to justify#myself as being somehow less complicit or something. i mean i think my complicity as an american dwarfs the rest of it honestly but.#i just feel really insanely alienated where the rhetoric of my theoretically most closely politically aligned group is not really built to#like. accommodate the facts of my family history.#sorry. i have honestly no idea why im so obsessed with articulating this concept ive just been chewing on it pointlessly for days#box opener
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getvalentined · 1 year ago
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An open letter to @staff
I already submitted this to Support under "Feedback," but I'm sharing it here too as I don't expect it to get a response, and I feel like putting in out in public may be more effective than sending it off into the void.
The recent post on the Staff blog about changing tumblr to an algorithmic feed features a large amount of misinformation that I feel staff needs to address, openly and honestly, with information on where this data was sourced at the very least.
Claim 1: Algorithms help small creators.
This is false, as algorithms are designed to push content that gets engagement in order to get it more engagement, thereby assuring that the popular remain popular and the small remain small except in instances of extreme luck.
This can already be seen on the tumblr radar, which is a combination of staff picks (usually the same half-dozen fandoms or niche special interests like Lego photography) which already have a ton of engagement, or posts that are getting enough engagement to hit the radar organically. Tumblr has an algorithm that runs like every other socmed algorithm on the planet, and it will decimate the reach of small creators just like every other platform before it.
Claim 2: Only a small portion of users utilize the chronological feed.
You can find a poll by user @darkwood-sleddog here that at the time of writing this, sits at over 40 THOUSAND responses showing that over 96 percent of them use the chronological feed*. Claiming otherwise isn't just a misstatement, it's a lie. You are lying to your core userbase and expecting them to accept it as fact. It's not just unethical, it's insulting to people who have been supporting your platform for over a decade.
Claim 3: Tumblr is not easy to use.
This is also 100% false and you ABSOLUTELY know it. Tumblr is EXTREMELY easy to use, the issue is that the documentation, the explanations of features, and often even the stability of the service is subpar. All of this would be very easy for staff to fix, if they would invest in the creation of walkthroughs and clear explanations of how various site features work, as well as finally fixing the search function. Your inability to explain how your service works should not result in completely ignoring the needs and wants of your core long-term userbase. The fact that you're more willing to invest in the very systems that have made every other form of social media so horrifically toxic than in trying to make it easier for people to use the service AS IT WORKS NOW and fixing the parts that don't work as well speaks volumes toward what tumblr staff actually cares about.
You will not get a paycheck if your platform becomes defunct, and the thing that makes it special right now is that it is the ONLY large-scale socmed platform on THE ENTIRE INTERNET with a true chronological feed and no aggressive algorithmic content serving. The recent post from staff indicates that you are going to kill that, and are insisting that it's what we want. It is not. I'd hazard to guess that most of the dev team knows it isn't what we want, but I assume the money people don't care. The user base isn't relevant, just how much money they can bring in.
The CEO stated he wanted this to remain as sort of the last bastion of the Old Internet, and yet here we are, watching you declare you intend to burn it to the ground.
You can do so much better than this.
Response to the Update
Under the cut for readability, because everything said above still applies.
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I already said this in a reblog on the post itself, but I'm adding it to this one for easy access: people read it that way because that's what you said.
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Staff considers the main feed as it exists to be "outdated," to the point that you literally used that word to describe it, and the main goals expressed in this announcement is to figure out what makes "high-quality content" and serve that to users moving forward.
People read it that way because that is what you said.
*The final results of the poll, after 24 hours:
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136,635 votes breaks down thusly:
An algorithm based feed where I get "the best of tumblr." @ 1.3% (roughly 1,776 votes)
Chronological feed that only features blogs I follow. @ 95.2% (roughly 130,077 votes)
This doesn't affect me personally. @ 3.5% (roughly 4,782 votes)
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acid-ixx · 5 months ago
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ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)
directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four
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read until the end for an author's note.
*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.
i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.
why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.
is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.
i don't want to pray anymore.
so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—
i hate you."
"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."
you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.
"alfr-"
a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.
salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.
you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.
"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."
"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"
his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.
you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.
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alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.
it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.
you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.
and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.
it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.
it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.
the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.
you pose secrets that speak of the underground.
he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.
you stared at nothing.
not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.
it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.
what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.
you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.
(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.
he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.
yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.
you were more like batman than you were bruce.
alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.
when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.
the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.
alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.
yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.
the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.
"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.
the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.
yet you do not display pain.
a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.
you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.
the world does not deserve someone like you.
alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.
through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.
even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.
you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.
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another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.
"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.
a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.
the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.
alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.
you could only hear yourself.
"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"
you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.
"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."
it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.
he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.
despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.
you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.
everything hurts, it truly does.
you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.
you at least try to stifle your sobs—
"happy birthday, master (name)."
— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.
you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.
it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.
though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.
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"alfred?"
it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.
"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.
"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"
... (name) wayne was full of surpises.
even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.
you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.
but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.
except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.
when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.
it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.
he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.
alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.
"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"
alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.
"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...
— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."
alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.
you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.
but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.
it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.
it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.
but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.
and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.
alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.
he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.
"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.
"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."
alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.
he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.
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and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.
he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.
in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.
alfred misses you.
does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.
but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.
(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.
and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.
but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.
your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.
you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.
it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.
the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.
after all, your freedom is your doom.
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the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.
it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.
yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.
for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.
even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.
it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.
before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.
bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.
in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.
his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.
that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.
he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.
he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.
"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.
"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.
but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.
bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.
it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.
if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.
he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.
"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.
"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."
huh?
"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"
"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."
... (name)?
ah, his... other child.
alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.
it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.
"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"
alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.
"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.
"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"
to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.
"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."
at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—
but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?
shit, what grade are you in?
why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—
"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"
"roughly six or seven months ago, master."
"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."
"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."
eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.
it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.
his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?
alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.
bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened
the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.
he denies himself of any relief.
"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.
so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.
"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."
if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.
but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.
and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.
bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.
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reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.
a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.
also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!
taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)
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marvelwitchergilmore · 3 months ago
Text
Busted
Summary: Logan x Fe!Reader -> Rogue has a date, and you and Logan decide to follow. You're just making sure she's safe. But sometimes it's in moments like that, that you find out your 'husband' is the love of your life.
Disclaimer: Mostly chaos, fluffiness, fake dating, mentions of being a soldier, the claws come out briefly, a nosy book club and its members. Some swearing, steam and a little angst. I wrote this over two days so apologies if it becomes spotty. This is a long one. Not Proof Read.
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Rogue had a date. 
Both yourself, Logan and…practically most of the teachers in the school knew about Rogue having a date. 
Yet, despite knowing all of this. And somewhat knowing the guy’s intentions…Logan had decided to follow them. 
And you had found yourself tagging along. 
“And what did you think you were gonna do when they figured out you were following them?” You asked him. “At least this way it just looks like we decided to pick up dinner in town.”
“At the same restaurant?”
“You ask that as if this wasn’t your idea.”
“Oh please,” Logan practically rolled his eyes at you. “I saw what you were actually looking at early. You were caseing the place.”
“I was looking at their opening times.” You countered, if a little harshly. 
“You were casing the joint and you know it. If I wasn’t coming down here, you would have already come.”
You gave a short, heavy sigh. “Fine. I wanted to make sure this wasn’t some kind of set up. I just want her to be safe and have fun.”
“And I want to make sure the guy isn’t a creep.” Logan finalised before opening up the door for you allowing you to step inside. 
“Hello, madam! Ah, good sir! Table for two?” The waiter looked at his list. 
Logan looked and felt a little out of place. He was hoping you could both enter quietly, not have an announcement made to the entire restaurant. 
“Uh, yea. Yes, please.”
The waiter smiled, picking up two menus. “Please, this way.”
“Logan.”
Logan followed your line of sight to see where Rogue and her date were sitting, smiling and laughing with one another as they looked over the menus. 
“Uh, actually, bub?”
The waiter turned around. “Yes, sir?”
“If you don’t mind we’d like to sit…” Logan looked around and found an empty table. “There.”
You saw where he pointed and realised why. Too far back into the restaurant, you’d pass right by the happy couple. 
Sitting where Logan was currently looking, gave you direct sight of the happy couple and with a chance, more coverage from the rest of the guests. 
“There?” The waiter asked, a little offended. “Oh, no, Sir. Please. We have a lovely booth for a couple such as yourself back here. Romantic candle light, a lot more privacy, no?”
You felt yourself blush at what the waiter was trying to subtly say. 
And it seemed that Logan caught on, too. And looked at you, unsure of what to do. 
You gave a small laugh and moved closer to Logan, “I’m sure, but you see, the thing is, my…”
You hesitated a little on your next words. “Husband.”
Christ, you felt that lie weigh on your chest. 
“He was in the army. Not a big fan of not being able to see the door. Just a habit, I suppose.”
The waiter gave a softer smile. “Ah, no worries.” 
Swiftly, he began leading you both towards the table Logan had pointed out. “My sister is serving overseas right now. We are all very proud. Thank you for your service, Sir.”
Logan gave an awkward smile and thanked the waiter before you both sat down with your menus. 
“I thought we were busted then,” Logan shifted in his seat. 
“So did I,” you replied. “So long as they don’t draw any-”
“So, what will it be?” 
Both yourself and Logan jumped at the waiter's sudden reappearance. However, he didn’t seem to notice as he began rattling off the specials. And then the wines. And then came the crash. 
Everyone’s heads turned inside the restaurant. 
Including Rogue’s. 
Quickly, you scooted your chair around so the waiter blocked you from view. By the time he turned back around, muttering about incompetencies about the newer staff members, he excused himself and headed in the direction of the crash. 
You saw Rogue settle her back to talking with her date and you breathed again, pulling your chair back to its original position. 
The waiter returned. 
“So, what will you be having?”
This time he blocked your view from Rogue’s table, giving Logan a clearer view of her date. You could see something flare up in Logan. 
“Uh, we’re gonna need another minute.” You said hurriedly, willing the waiter to walk away. 
And he did. 
For a moment. 
“Logan.”
He turned back to you. “What?”
“Have you decided yet?” The waiter was back. 
Logan took your menu from you and placed it with his before handing it over to the waiter, who seemed shocked for a moment since it took him just as long to realise what Logan was doing. 
“Two cheeseburgers, a side of fries and two sodas. Please.”
The waiter seemed to force his smile a little. “Of course, sir. Anything else?”
“No, thank you.” You replied and the waiter bowed his head before walking away.
For a split second as you looked at Logan, you felt a comfort in your gut. And apparently the look was still clear on your face when he looked back at you. 
“What?”
You shook your head, snapping yourself out of it. “Nothing, just…well, the last time a guy ordered my food for me he ordered me a salad, with a side of vinegar and sparkling water.”
Logan raised an eyebrow, slightly confused. “Is that what you wanted?”
“Fuck no.” You answered honestly. You didn’t want it then, and you sure as hell didn’t want it now. 
Especially the sparkling water. 
Logan looked at you for a moment in a silence you hadn’t known from him before. Then he turned back to watch Rogue’s date. 
And there was that look again. 
“Logan. You can’t kill him from here.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”
You nodded. “I know that. And so does everyone else in this restaurant. At least now I know why Scott doesn’t send you undercover.”
Logan turned back to you. 
“You might be the ‘mysterious, silent’ type but if someone took one look at your face, they’d find their answers.”
“Are you saying I’m easy to read?”
Someone came and placed your drinks down on the table. You shrugged. 
“To the people who know you, yes.”
“Okay, then. Fine.” Logan turned his full attention onto you. “What am I thinking?”
“That I’m wrong. And that you wished you had the powers of invisibility so you could be closer to the table without being seen and mess with her date whilst he can’t see you.”
Logan remained still for a second before shifting in his seat. “Okay, fine. Maybe I am easy to read.”
You smiled and took a sip of your soda. “See.”
For the next twenty five minutes, things ran smoother than expected. You both enjoyed your meals, yourself and Logan talked a little however spent most of your time watching Rogue and her date enjoy their time. 
“What would you do?” 
Logan hummed a questioned response. 
“If you took someone out on a date? What would you do?”
Logan scrunched up his paper napkin and placed it beside his plate. “Why do you want to know?”
You shrugged, looking away from Rogue’s date. “Curiosity? I’ve had that many crappy dates in my time, maybe you can rescue my last sliver of hope.”
Logan felt a smile on his face for a moment, hearing your plea for hope. 
“Oh, come on. They’re talking. If we look at them any longer they might sense someone staring.”
Logan sighed. “Fine.”
“So, what would you do?”
Logan shrugged. “I don’t know. Go for a drink, maybe some food. Honestly, it’s been a while since I’ve dated.”
“Seriously?”
Logan nodded. “Seriously. What about you?”
You thought about it for a moment. “Well, the last date I went on the guy ordered my food for me.”
“Sparkling water guy?” Logan asked. 
You nodded. “One in the same. He spent two hours talking about his businesses, and didn't notice I hadn’t touched my food. Or my drink, for that matter. Then at the end, said that if we ever got married, I wouldn’t have to worry about anything other than what I was going to make him for his dinner each night.”
“Fucking asshole. Why did you stay?”
You decided to answer honestly. “Didn’t have anything else to do. And my friends had been on my case about my dating life. They were all either married or getting married or starting a family, and when they said they knew this “really great guy, you’ll just adore him” I decided to give it a shot.”
“What did they do when they found out he was an asshole?”
“Couple apologised, others asked me to give him a second chance. They haven’t tried setting me up with anyone since.”
Logan watched you for a moment as you pulled your soda to your lips. He wanted to punch the Sparkling Water Guy. He didn’t realise how lucky he was to be on a date with someone like you. And, in all honesty, he wasn’t too happy with your friends either. 
“You deserve better.”
Your eyes widened and for a moment Logan thought he had fucked up, saying that to you out loud. 
“Logan. Logan, quick. Shit.”
Then he noticed where you were looking. Rogue was standing up, as was her date. 
“Shit.”
You looked around you, trying to find the best place to hide yourself. Only Logan found a solution. 
From under the table, he grabbed the bottom of your chair and pulled you closer towards him. 
“Just keep looking at me, hopefully we’ll just blur in with the rest of the crowd.”
And you did. You kept your eyes on Logan. 
In his peripheral vision, he saw Rogue slipping her coat on with her date’s help, who just so happened to rake his eyes up and down her body from the back whilst she wasn’t looking. 
Then he felt your hand on his. 
“Logan,” you whispered to him, getting his attention. 
With your hand on his, you were covering the tips of his claws that started peeking out from between his knuckles. 
“He’s just helping her put her coat on.”
Logan felt the tips of his claws retract, however three small holes were left in the cloth on the table beside his plate. 
“Sorry.”
You just smiled. “It’s okay.”
Then the waiter came back. “Ah, so lovely to see a couple so in love.”
You felt your cheeks go red and hid your face against Logan’s shoulder as he curled his arm around your back and smiled at the waiter. “Can we have the check?”
The waiter nodded. “Of course, just one moment.”
Within seconds, the waiter was back just as Rogue and her date walked out of the door. 
“Have a lovely evening!” The waiter called out to both of you as Logan took your hand and headed for the door. 
Rogue and her date were already half way down the street. 
“Where are they going?”
“Maybe he’s walking her to the cab station?” You offered. 
Logan, with his eyes still fixed on the dates, nodded his head in the opposite direction. “Taxis’ that way.”
Looking back at you, you both made a simultaneous decision and were back to following them. 
“Where the hell could they be going?”
“Maybe they’re just going for a walk. It is still early and they looked like they were having fun. Some couples like to take a walk together after a date.”
“They’re not a couple yet. And this is their first date.” 
You caught up beside Logan and pulled him to a slower pace so neither of you looked like frantic maniacs going down Main Street. 
“If we get any closer, they’re gonna see us.”
“You’re right.”
Yourself and Logan tailed them down the street and around the park before deciding to head back home. “If they’re coming round on the top of the street, they’re gonna see your car.”
Logan looked around him before taking hold of your hand and nearly pulling your arm out of its socket. “This way.”
“Logan, slow down.” You told him. “We aren’t all ten feet tall.”
Thankfully, he did slow down, however didn’t let go of your hand. 
“Do you think we did the right thing? Following them?”
You nodded. “I was questioning it at first but…at least this way we know the guy actually meant what he said when he asked her out. Oh, shit
“What?”
You just managed to push Logan into the doorway of a closed bookstore, pushing his back against the glass. 
“What are you doing?”
“Uhhh,” you panicked. “Nothing. Just a…puddle. Big puddle.”
“It hasn’t rained in three days. What are you-”
Logan stopped when he saw what you had seen. Rogue’s date was about to lean in to kiss her. 
You pushed him back, trying your best to keep him pinned to the wall. “Okay, I get we tailed them most of the night but we have to give them some privacy.”
“Did he even ask?”
“I don’t know, but just keep your voice down. The car is three spaces away. Hopefully they’ll be distracted long enough to-”
You peered back round the corner. “Oh, thank god.”
“What? What’s going on? Has hell opened up and sucked him in?”
You looked back at Logan, a little less than amused. “They’re going into the ice cream shop. Come on, before they see us.”
However, just as you both stepped out of the doorway, you found your path blocked by an elderly woman and her dog. 
She chuckled to herself. “Don’t mind me kids, just taking Frankie on a walk. And don’t worry, honey. I remember when I first met my Harry. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
You let out a nervous laugh as Logan looked like he was about to burst from embarrassment as he ran a hand through his hair, his shirt coming untucked and showing off a small hint of his torso. 
Mrs Keller watched where your eyes landed and gave you a knowing albeit loving smirk as she watched you move closer to Logan, tugging his shirt down a little and pressing close into his side. 
“We should get going. It was nice seeing you Mrs Keller.”
Mrs Keller waved you both off towards Logan’s car. “I’ll see you for next week's book club?”
You nodded. “I’ll be there.”
“Feel free to bring your husband along,” she called back. “It’ll drive Little Miss Prissy up the wall that you’ve been keeping that Handsome Fella a secret.”
You laughed nervously once again, as Logan gave you a slight smirk despite his initial embarrassment at what the old lady thought you were both doing.  
“Good night, Mrs Keller.” You called out before Logan repeated it. 
She waved you both goodbye before continuing down the street with Frankie walking by her side. 
Closing the passenger door, you covered your face with your hands already feeling Logan’s eyes and teasing smile on you. 
“She was nice.”
“Shut up and drive.”
Logan chuckled, placing his key into the ignition and pulling out of his spot, his hand behind your headrest as he did so when looking over his shoulder. 
Barely five minutes into the drive, Logan started asking you questions. 
“You’re a part of a book club?”
“We all meet every fortnight and talk about books.”
“And Mrs Keller…?”
You sighed. 
“Is one of the founding members. I met her at the library one day when taking some books back. She was at the desk asking if they had the newest Danielle Steel. They didn’t, but I had seen it in the shop window in a bookstore on the other side of town. We walked together and she invited me to join.”
“How was the book?” Logan asked. 
“I cried.” You answered honestly. “First book I actually cried at.”
Logan let out a small laugh and you hit his arm whilst trying to hold in one of your own. “Don’t laugh.”
“I-I’m not laughing. Okay, maybe I am. I mean, it is funny. Is this where you’ve been disappearing every other Saturday?”
You nodded. “Pretty much. They’re a fun group. Well, most of them are.”
“Let me guess?” Logan asked. “Little Miss Prissy?”
You groaned. “She lives two doors down from Eva. Eva can be nice, but Prissy? God, she’s a nightmare. Every time it’s her turn to talk, she somehow manages to turn it back to her and her “ever doting husband” and their “precious baby niece and nephew” and “oh, look at how cute he is with them.” You know, we read American Psycho once. She still managed to turn it back to her husband.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” you continued. “If she wanted to know about anyone else’s love life. Like…” you sighed, thinking of an example. “Mrs Keller? Her and Harry have been together since they were seventeen. They met when they were twelve, lived across the street from each other their entire lives. Mrs Keller had been stood up for one of the local dances by Harry’s friend. So, the minute he found out, he ran over to her house, still covered in motor oil and asked her to the dance. Mrs Keller deserves to write her own romance book for everything that her and Harry have done together. But can she get a word in edgewise? Nope.”
“Sounds like a love for the ages.” Logan said with a soft smile on his lips, looking at you before turning his gaze back to the road in front of him. “And by the sounds of it, Mrs Keller is going to give her something else to talk about.”
You covered your face again. “Oh, god.”
“Hey, come on, it can’t be that bad.”
“How do I tell Mrs Keller I’m not married? She’s gonna think that I’m-”
“What if you didn’t?” 
You turned and looked at Logan. “What?”
“What if you didn’t? Tell them you’re not married? I mean, it’s not like they’re gonna meet me.” Logan explained. “Just…keep up with the lie.”
“And what do I do when they ask me questions?”
Logan shrugged. “Just…bend the truth.”
“Okay,” you sat up in your seat, deciding to test him. “How did we meet?”
“At work. We’re both teachers.”
“When was our first date?”
Logan thought about it. “Six months after we met. We decided to stay up late and ate leftover Chinese food.”
You furrowed your brows. How the hell did he manage to answer these so quickly? Sure, most of it was true. You were both teachers, and the first night you spent alone in the same room together was eating the leftovers in the fridge. Of course, what wasn’t being said was that you both actually met when Logan nearly bulldozed you when he ran into the Professor’s office just after he’d woken up in Jean’s lab. Or how neither of you had properly spoken to one another until that night six months later. 
Or how afterwards, it took a long time for you to make a genuine friendship with him that wasn’t just talking about the team or what the students had to learn in that semester. 
“And then what?” You asked him. “We kissed and lived happily ever after?”
Logan shrugged. “Sure, why not?”
You groaned again. “I hate lying to Mrs Keller.”
“You just lied to her like ten minutes ago. We both did.”
Eventually, Logan pulled up outside of the school and left the car back where he had found it. 
“Like we never left.”
You smiled. “Come on, before she gets back and figures out what we’ve been doing.”
Walking through the school ground and up the front steps, both you and Logan chatted away, laughing a little here and there about anecdotes you were telling him. 
Then you were alone in the middle of the empty hallway, cast in darkness and hints of moonlight. 
“We should get to bed before they get back.”
“I think I might stay up and wait for her to get back. Make sure he didn’t do anything he shouldn’t have done.”
You stepped a little closer to him. “Be nice, Logan.”
“I’m always nice.”
You just raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Okay, fine.” Logan sighed a laugh. “I’ll be nice.”
“Thank you. Tell me how it goes?”
Logan nodded. “Course.”
However, as you both stood together in the hallway, soaking in the vision of the other, you both heard footsteps. 
“Shit.”
Logan looked around. “Here.”
Taking your hand, Logan pulled you into the small space besides the bookshelf and the window. 
Being pressed between the wall and him, you felt his scent and body heat swirl around you and mix with your own. Your own heartbeat was drumming so loud in your eardrums you could hardly hear what Rogue was saying when she was talking to her date. 
From above you, Logan leaned down, his eyes roaming across your face, whilst you found your own gaze doing the same. 
Your heartbeat seemed to drum harder and faster against your chest, your lungs trying to find an even pace to breathe at. 
But you weren’t the only one struggling with that. 
Because Logan’s breathing had become laboured as he looked at you, wanting the space between you both to be further so he could think clearer and not do something you both could regret, but at the same time, for you to be closer to him so he could cross that line. 
You swallowed thickly, trying your best to keep your gaze from his lips. 
You were failing. 
“Logan…”
“Y/n…”
The hand you had pressed against his chest slid up his chest before you took a wad of the loose fabric by his collar in your hands, holding him closer, begging for that line to be crossed. Just as you did so, his own hand pushed the hair from beside your face, his hand gripping onto the space between your neck and your shoulder. Maybe if he forced himself, he wouldn’t move his hand and he wouldn’t cross that line. 
“Alright, where are you two?”
You and Logan stilled. “Maybe if we’re quiet…”
Rogue started walking around. “You wouldn’t have gone to bed yet. Where are you? Oh, come on. I saw you both in the restaurant.”
You and Logan sighed and he closed his eyes, leaning a little further into you. You didn’t want him to leave. 
“Busted.”
Slowly, you and Logan came out from your hiding spot and Rogue spun around her heels. “There you both are.”
“Look, before you yell, you need to know something.”
Rogue crossed her arms, waiting. 
“It was Y/n’s idea.”
“Logan.”
But rather than yell, Rogue laughed a little. “Why does something tell me that’s a lie?”
Logan shrugged. “It might be part of a lie.”
You gave a sigh. He was hopeless. 
“We just wanted to make sure you were safe. And, if you want to know, we’ve already learnt our lesson.”
“Really?”
Logan nodded in agreement with you. “Just take our word for it.”
“So, how did your date go?”
Rogue smiled. “If you must know, we’re going out again next Saturday. He’s going to take me to the movies and then we’re gonna go bowling.”
“That sounds like fun.”
“It will be,” Rogue said. “So long as you two promise to not follow us this time?”
You crossed a sign over your heart. “I swear.”
Rogue waited for Logan to do the same, and only when you nudged him did he do so. “But I’m dropping you off.”
“Just agree,” you told Rogue. “It’ll be easier on all of us.”
Rogue agreed. “Fine. You can drop me off.”
Not long after that, both yourself and Logan went to bed whilst Rogue walked towards the kitchen to grab a bottle of water before doing the same. 
“Are we being overprotective?”
“She’s just a kid, Y/n. We’re allowed to be.”
Logan walked you to your door, both of you calling goodnight to each other. However, you didn’t fall asleep. 
At least for the first couple of hours. 
Mrs Keller thought you were married. 
Married to the same man you were friends with.
The same friend you had almost kissed. 
The same friend who had almost kissed you. 
By the time you woke up the next morning, you seemed to be the only one awake. It was no surprise though, considering you were still three hours off the clock having a one at the beginning of it. 
“Morning.”
You jumped a little when you heard a voice before you opened your eyes to confirm it was Rogue’s voice who had spoken to you. 
“What are you doing up? It’s 7 am. And a Sunday.”
Rogue gave a smile. “Could ask you the same thing.” Rogue told you. “Figured you’d be wrapped in Logan’s arms right now.”
Your back was to her as you opened up one of the doors to the fridge, however became completely still and forgot why you’d opened the damn thing in the first place. 
“What?”
Turning around, you saw Rogue and her smirk, sip at her coffee. 
“I saw you and Logan last night.”
Beside the bookcase? 
“At the restaurant?” Rogue was confused by the more than panicked look on your face. She had said she saw you both, when she got home last night, didn’t she. “You and Logan were sat at the table by the window?”
“Oh…” You felt your heart leave the vice you’d just locked it in. “Oh, yeah.”
Rogue smiled again. “Looked pretty cosy if you ask me.”
“Good job no one’s asking you.”
Milk. That’s why you opened the fridge. 
Taking the carton out, you closed it behind you and reached for a bowl and some cereal. 
“All snuggled up together, his arm around you. I was pretty sure he would have kissed you if the waiter didn’t interrupt. Though, if he didn’t, maybe you would have done more than kiss at that table.”
“Rogue!”
She laughed. “What? Oh, come on. I’ve seen the way you look at each other. Seen the way he looks at you.”
She mumbled that last sentence into her coffee cup leaving you questioned just exactly what she meant by it. 
“It’s too early in the morning for this,” you grumbled to yourself, replacing the cereal box in the cabinet. 
“You could always go back to bed.” Rogue offered. “Or go and see if Logan wants some company.”
You turned around a slightly shocked, slightly disgusted look on your face. “Oh my god.”
“I’m kidding.” Rogue laughed out. “Kinda.”
“When did you grow up?” You asked out loud, coming to the daily realisation that Rogue wasn’t the little kid you had first met when she arrived at the school but was, in fact, very quickly on her way to becoming a full grown woman. After all, she had started taking on a small time tutoring job and she was still a couple months away from graduation. 
The rest of the day went smoothly. Well…as smooth as it could go when you were having a constant internal flashback to the night before. Mrs Keller and what she thought you and Logan were doing, it almost happening beside the bookcase, and then you walked in on him in his bathroom. 
He had said it was safe for you to come inside, and you had happened to see him shirtless a couple of times. Though never in sync with a time when at least two people on the planet thought you were married, another one was trying to convince you she saw, at the very least, something similar to what the others had and the two minutes spent beside the bookcase which you had thought about over and over. 
“Hank is asking if you want corn or peas.” You told Logan as you walked inside, trying your best not to yell or scream out loud and retreat away. 
“Either is fine. You okay?”
You snapped your eyes back to Logan’s face. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Fine. Have you talked to Rogue?”
“Not today,” he replied. “Why? Should I have done?”
You couldn’t help but shudder. “No. That kid is scary.”
You heard Logan laugh as you closed the door a little as you headed back out. 
“Hey, wait.”
You opened the door again, holding onto the frame for dear life. “Yeah?”
“About last night…”
“What about last night?” You tried your best to remain as casual as possible, though it didn’t help when you remembered Logan was practically a walking lie detector. 
He could hear your heartbeat. 
And it was only getting faster. 
You told yourself to calm down. 
It was only a question. 
A big question. 
That he hadn’t finished. 
Was he going to tell you to forget about it? Was he going to pretend it didn’t happen? Did it happen? Had you made the entire thing up? Was the line that you thought had blurred for a second been completely in bold this entire time and hadn’t shifted?
“Thanks…for coming with me…I know you would have gone anyway. But, I’m glad you didn’t try to stop me.”
You smirked a little. “Logan, you’re made of metal. The only practical way I could have is if I owned an industrial magnet.”
Logan chuckled a little. “Still. I’m glad you came. It’s nice to know the kid’s not alone, you know?”
You nodded. “I know. Anyway, I should probably…”
“Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I’ll meet you down there.”
You nodded, letting your eyes take a mental picture of Logan before you shut the door again and headed downstairs and back into the kitchen. 
“He said either.”
Hank nodded and turned back to the stove. 
“You were up there for a while,” Rogue appeared by your side. “And you look a little flushed.”
You turned your head to look at her and glared. “I do not.”
“You do look a little red in the cheeks, Y/n.” Hank added from where he was standing, busying himself by the stove. 
“Maybe I’m coming down with something.” You pressed your hands to your cheeks to hide them. 
Rogue stood in front of you and pressed the back of her hand to your head. “You don’t feel hot, maybe- Oh, hey Logan!”
Rogue broke out into a wide grin.
Logan was a little shocked by Rogue’s enthusiasm. “Hey, kid.”
“Come here, does Y/n feel hot to you? She’s looking a little flushed.”
“Rogue.” You warned under your breath. But she just smiled and pulled Logan over where her hand was replaced by Logan’s. 
And there it was again. 
That same…difference. 
Just like when you stood in front of him when you both got back, before you hid beside the bookcase. 
“N-no. She feels…she feels okay.”
Rogue looked back at Hank who was trying his best to hide his smile. “Why, Logan, you’re looking a little flushed yourself.”
Logan quickly stepped back, as did you. Only, you fell into the counter and gripped onto it for dear life. 
You looked down at the floor. 
“Maybe you’re coming down with something, too. I hope it’s not catching.”
Logan shook his head. “I can’t get sick.”
Hank hummed. “Must be something else then.”
“Must be.” Logan’s voice was quiet as he looked at you and found you looking back. 
Though you couldn’t look for too long, feeling your cheeks heat up again. 
“I better-”
“Yeah, I’m gonna-”
Both yourself and Logan headed in opposite directions. Yourself out of the kitchen the way you came in, and Logan out through the back door and into the gardens. 
Eventually, you made it to your room and locked your door before moving over to the mirror. You did look flushed. Even more so when your brain projected the feeling of Logan’s hands on you from the night before, as well as the look on his face from thirty seconds ago. 
By the time dinner rolled around, yourself and Logan tried to keep your distance until you both suddenly found yourself seated beside each other, taking one look at each other and then taking a large gulp of your drink. 
Your main suspect for the forced seating arrangement was Rogue. She had been the one to lay out the cards. Three days previous, you were sure you had been sat beside her and Storm. 
And when you looked over to her and found her smiling in your direction, you had your confirmed culprit. 
For most of the night, you were kept distracted by the stories being told by everyone as you all caught up with one another from the past couple of months or so. 
It was a few days until things felt normal between you and Logan. At least to the extent where you didn’t feel yourself visibly flush at the sight of him. 
And everything seemed normal. 
Until Saturday. 
You had already left - Logan being the only one to know where you actually were heading off to. 
“Okay, but Logan, you’re not allowed to get out of the car.” Rogue told him. “You’re just dropping me off. And you’re not allowed to come into the movie theatre, either.”
“What if I want to see a movie?”
“Not tonight, you’re not.” Rogue told him. “I like this guy, okay. And I think having The Wolverine sat behind us both isn’t going to make things easier.”
Logan sighed. “Okay, fine. I won’t come into the movie theatre.”
“Promise?” 
Logan nodded, and crossed his heart. “Promise.”
“And you can’t send Y/n in, either.”
“Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. She’s busy.”
“Let me guess, on a date at the movie theatre?”
Logan held back his smirk. “No, smartass. She’s at a book club. But you can’t tell the others. She doesn’t want them to know.”
“Y/n’s part of a book club?”
Logan nodded and stifled a laugh as he flicked on his indicator and turned down a side street. “Yeah, it shocked me too.”
“You wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious husband they’re all talking about?”
As a red light came on, Logan slammed on his breaks a little too hard. “What? How would you know about-”
“Y/n took me to the library. There were a load of women looking at her. She was outside but when I asked her about it she said it was nothing. But I definitely heard them talking about her being married.”
Logan looked back to the road. 
“Logan?”
“Yeah.”
“It's green.”
A car behind him honked and Logan quickly got moving, all the while feeling Rogue’s eyes on him. 
“Oh, my god.” Rogue smiled and turned back to the road in disbelief. 
“What?” 
Logan was beginning to feel a little panicked. Though he didn’t quite know why. 
“You are him.” Rogue stated. “Oh, my god. Is this what you meant by ‘learning your lesson’? Did something finally happen?”
Logan was confused. “Finally? What do you mean finally?”
“I mean finally.” Rogue repeated. “Jesus, Logan. Have you not seen the way you look at her? How she looks at you?”
“How she looks at me?” Logan questioned. 
Since when did driving Rogue to her second date become a time for confessions?
“Hank was right, you both really are as bad as each other.”
Logan had to shake his head. “Wait, Hank? Beast Hank?”
Rogue could help but laugh. 
For months Rogue had watched Logan and yourself get close to each other. She had to watch as the looks Logan gave you went from untrusted, to familiar, to friendly to…everything after the fact of trust. Not only could you see it in his eyes that he trusted you, but you could also see what he was too scared to admit to himself. 
He was in love with you. 
And had been for quite some time. 
Of course, Rogue had only noticed this in the last couple of months. 
Except, when talking with Hank as he cooked and she mostly watched and snacked on the parts he wasn’t using for the main meals, she realised it had been going on for years. 
How you had looked at Logan. Intrigue, civil, uncharted, familiar, friendly, safe and,,,love. 
And apparently Hank hadn’t been the only one in agony watching both of you. According to him, so were the rest of the team. 
They were all just surprised nothing had actually happened yet. 
“W-why are you laughing?” Logan’s gaze kept flicking from the passenger seat beside him to the road ahead until he finally pulled up outside the movie theatre. 
“Because you’re both idiots.”
Logan didn’t look entirely amused. “Thanks, kid.”
“Look, I could tell you but…you need to work this one out for yourself. Thanks for dropping me off.”
As Rogue stepped out of the car, she closed the door and walked away. However, a few paces from the car she stopped and turned back around. 
“Fuck it, I’m just gonna tell you.” 
Leaning back inside the car, Logan looked back at her. 
“You love her. And she loves you.” Rogue told him. “You’ve both loved each other for a long time and it’s about time you both do something about it before time passes and you’re both too chicken shit to do something about it. There is a reason everyone already thinks you're a couple, and that’s because when neither of you are thinking, you both act like it anyway. You should really see the way you look at each other, Lo. I hope I can find that some day, too. It’s rare. Don’t let it slip past you. Either of you.”
Rogue watched as Logan soaked in all of her words and then settled back behind the steering wheel. 
Reaching into her bag, Rogue pulled out a book. “This was on the counter when I came downstairs.”
Logan took it from her. It was a new book. The new book you would be discussing about. Tonight. 
“Figured she might need that. Maybe you can drop it off with her?”
Logan looked at Rogue and gave a smile. “Thanks, kid.”
Rogue shrugged. “Just mention me during your wedding speech.”
Shutting the car door, Rogue watched as Logan pulled out of his parking spot and drove down the street, turning the corner to head towards the address you had given him earlier that week. 
“Just in case you or Rogue needs me.” You had told him. 
Pulling up outside the house, KELLER written on the mailbox, Logan turned off the engine, took the book from the passenger seat and headed up the porch steps and knocked on the screen door. 
From inside he heard laughing before a familiar face opened up the door. 
“Oh, my. Logan, isn’t it?”
Logan nodded, trying his best to hide the flush on his cheeks. “Mrs Keller. I’m hoping Y/n is here. She left her book and I thought-”
Mrs Keller gave a wide smile and pushed open the screen door for him to come in. “Of course. The more the merrier. Your wife will be happy to see you, I’m sure. Follow me.”
As he did so, Logan soon found himself entering a second living room where around a dozen people were sitting in somewhat of a circle, either on the sofas or on the floor. 
“Look who’s come for a surprise visit!” Mrs Keller announced. 
Everyone turned with welcoming smiles and slightly shocked expressions. 
“Logan.” You weren’t expecting to see him. 
“Hey,” Logan breathed with a smile at seeing you. “Rogue. She picked up your book and I thought you might need it.”
You stood and took it from him softly. “Thanks.”
“Well, honey? Aren’t you going to give him a proper hello?”
Suddenly you and Logan felt a dozen pairs of eyes on you both and with a slight awkwardness, you leant up and kissed his cheek. 
“Oh, come on. Girls, I tell you. Last week they were like two teenagers.”
You felt your cheeks go bright red and you hid your face with the cover of your book. The only comfort was Logan’s hand that hadn’t left your hip since you stepped into him to kiss his cheek. 
“Oh, Logan, please. Will you stay?”
Logan looked around the room. It was the first time he understood the expression “Feeling like you were going to be eaten alive.”
“No, no. This is…your thing. I don’t want to intrude-”
“Nonsense! Besides, we’ve been dying to know more about our little mystery.” Mrs Keller said with nothing but affection. 
“Who knew mystery could have so much romance?” 
Logan turned to where the voice came from and by your reaction, he gauged the voice belonged to Prissy. Who’s name he would soon learn was Pricilla. 
“I’d love to.” Logan replied, looking back to Mrs Keller. 
“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and got comfortable in her chair. “Oh, Darwin, honey, come and sit by me so the lovebirds can sit together.”
The sofa in which Darwin had been sitting was as big as a seat and a half. So, when Logan did finally sit down, you were practically sitting on his lap, the only comfortable position you could find yourself in was tucked in by his side, your legs over his whilst his hand held your knees on his thighs. 
Thankfully, your back was supported by the arm of the chair, but either way you felt yourself melt into Logan’s side, his body heat warming you. The fire Mrs Keller had on in the hearth was enough to heat the room but there was just something about Logan’s warmth that made it…different. 
“Oh, you two just make the most adorable couple.” Mrs Keller smiled, watching the pair of you, noticing the smiles you gave each other as you both finally got comfortable in being so close to one another. “Like no one else is in the room.” 
Logan heard Rogue’s words echo inside of his head. 
She was right. 
“Oh, you have to tell us how you met? Please.” Daisy asked from the floor beside the coffee table. 
Prissy coughed. “Aren’t we more interested in discussing this week’s book?”
A chorus of “No” sounded out. 
With a shlump, Prissy sat back with a noise stuck at the back of her throat. 
“Oh, tell us how you met!” Darwin called out. “Start at the very beginning.”
“You know it’s gonna be a good story when they look at each other like that.” Daisy added on. 
Prissy leaned forward. “You know, if you want a good love story, I can always tell you about how me and my darling husband met.”
Dawin groaned. Loudly. “We already know your story, Pricilla.”
“God knows we’ve heard it enough,” Mrs Keller mumbled. 
“We want a new story and we want to hear about Y/n and Logan.”
You looked at Logan and Logan looked back. Something seemed different about him. It was almost like something was gleaming inside of him. You just couldn’t figure out what. Or why. 
But you loved seeing a new side of him. 
There was just something that made your stomach flip and your heart grow when Logan showed you another side of him. A side he didn’t let people see that often. Sometimes a side he wouldn’t let himself see. 
“We met at work.” Logan told them. 
“Yeah, he nearly bulldozed me in the Professor’s office.”
“I did not.”
“You did.” You countered. “I almost got a concussion from how hard you opened up that door.”
“You weren’t even near the door.”
“No, because I jumped out of the way when you did.”
Mrs Keller smiled. “Let me guess, you didn’t get off on the right foot?”
You shrugged. “Not particularly.”
“It took time…about six months before we had a real conversation. And even then it took time.”
Mrs Keller smiled with a knowing look. “The best ones always do.”
Over the next two hours, you and Logan were asked question after question. Most of them scolding you for not mentioning or bringing Logan to the book meetings sooner so they could all meet him. 
Eventually, you did get onto the book you had all read. Prissy spent most of the time talking about the book and Logan got to witness first how she took the descriptions of a bird and placed the conversation back on her husband and what they had done during the week. 
The first time, Logan could see it almost as sweet. After that it just got tedious. 
But he couldn’t care. Not when he felt you fall into his side, allowing for his arm to come around your back, his hand fanned out across the exposed skin from your hip where your t-shirt had come untucked from your jeans. 
As the fire in the hearth settled into a constant warmth, people started to get more relaxed and cosier, pulling up blankets, putting on Mrs Keller’s complimentary cosy socks. 
Apparently she had a pair for everyone. 
“Let me go and get some more snacks and then we can talk about chapter fifteen.” Mrs Keller gave a small gasp. “I didn’t see it coming.”
But you shot to your feet. “No, you sit down. Let me.”
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
Sitting back down, Logan stood with you and walked into the kitchen with you. 
For a moment, you both talked about the book club and everything that had just happened before a comfortable lul came and you both realised you had to talk about the elephant in the room. 
“We need to talk.” Logan told you. 
“Do we?”
“Rogue told me something and it’s been on my mind ever since. And I can’t stop thinking how much she might be right.”
You poured some pretzels from the jar into a section of the dish. “Really? It must be bad if you’re agreeing with her.”
“Can you just…look at me for a second?”
You stopped pouring the snacks and looked at Logan, only for him to grab your hands and hold them in his. Running his thumbs over your knuckles, you forced yourself out of your thoughts and back to focusing on the real Logan in front of you. 
“I think I’ve known it for a while, I just don’t think I’ve been able to let myself know it because, if I do…look, I’ve lost a lot of people.”
He was scaring you now. 
“Logan, what’s going on?”
“I’ve lost a lot of people,” he finally looked you in the eye. “But I’ve come to realise you are not someone I can lose, Y/n. I don’t want to lose you. But if I don’t tell you something now, there might be a day when I could still lose you anyway.”
“Logan, you’re scaring me. Has something happened? What did Rogue say to you? I told you not to talk to her. That kid can be scary.”
Logan chuckled at that. It was true. Especially more recently. Very recently, in fact. 
“I’m in love with you, Y/n.”
You felt yourself falter and stiffen at his words. 
“You are the person I trust the most in this world, and I don’t say that lightly. I trust you and I love you. But I can’t lose you. So…” Logan took a breath. “Please tell me if I’m going to lose you because of this, because I don’t want to. I don’t want to ever lose you. Especially over something that I’ve done.”
“You…you love me?” You questioned. “Logan…how…when…Logan, you can’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because you…you just can’t.” 
You were in shock and disbelief. “I’m not someone you fall in love with.”
“Little late for that.”
“I’m being serious.” Pulling your hands from his, you walked away for a second. You needed space. You needed to breathe. You needed…you needed…
“So am I.”
You couldn’t help but scoff. “Logan…I…you…we…we don’t…”
“We don’t…what?” Logan asked you. 
“We don’t fit, Logan. We…we spent years building…us. Don’t you think that couples tend to know- if not instantly, a little sooner than us?”
“Y/n. I love you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I love you.”
Logan started walking closer to you, repeating his words with every step. 
“Logan, you don’t.”
Taking you by the shoulders, he looked you in the eyes. “Yes, I do. And…I’d wager to say you feel the same, too.”
“Logan…”
“Just listen to me.” Logan begged. “Please.”
And so you did. 
“Coming in here to tell you this? I didn’t expect you to tell me the same. I still don’t. I get you’re scared. Hell, I’m terrified. But the only thing that is keeping me from running out of that door is you. I know you, Y/n. And you know me, so when I stand here telling you that I love you, you know I’m not lying. You know that you are the only person I cannot lie to. I respect you too much to do that.” 
Logan continued. 
“But just now…you said ‘us’. And after what almost happened the other night and what happened in the kitchen with Hank…hell, even back there with the Town Gossip Board…”
Logan studied your face for a moment. You were fighting back tears, white knuckling the countertop beside you both.
“I can’t lose you, Y/n. So, please, tell me now. Just answer me this and if you want me to walk away I will. Do you love me?”
“Logan…”
Logan’s grip on you tightened for a moment as he bit his lip saying your name. He was desperate for an answer, wishing for you to say yes. For you to tell him not to walk away. 
He couldn’t lose you…but maybe he already had. 
“Please…” His voice broke. “Please.”
And then you broke. 
“Of course I love you.”
Pulling him in by his collar, you held your other hand against his face before kissing him. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was full of desperate and an outburst of emotion that you couldn’t put into words. You could only hope he knew what you meant by your kiss. 
Almost instantly you felt his hands come to your waist before he pushed against you, kissing you back, allowing his arms to snake up and around your back, holding you flush against his chest. All the while, his lips caught yours once more after half a breath. 
Your tears dried up and your hand fell to Logan’s side as he turned you, your ass bumping against the lower counter in the kitchen. A low groan came from the back of Logan’s throat as your hand dipped under his t-shirt and your fingers raked across his skin and up the side of his torso. 
However, just as Logan was about to lift you onto the counter, you both heard a voice call out from the living room. 
“Did you manage to find the pretzels? They’re in the cabinet above the stove!”
You and Logan pulled away, breathless. With his hands tangled in your hair and your forehead pressed against his, Logan forced a swallow, his cheeks heating as he smiled, still feeling your hand on his skin. 
“Yeah, we’ve got em’!” Logan called out. “We’ll be there in a second.”
You let out a small laugh, as did Logan. 
“How long have you got left here?”
You turned your head to look at the rustic clock above the kitchen dresser. “About an hour.”
“Make it 45?”
“50.” You gave it as an offer. “I still want to find out what they thought about Chapter twenty two.”
Almost out of arm's reach, Logan pulled you back. “Hey.”
“What?” You asked, allowing yourself to fall back into him. 
Looking at you, Logan smiled before brushing the hair from your face and leaving you with a kiss that left you a little stunned and dizzy in the best way imaginable. 
“I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
“Wait.” Logan said once more, before pulling you back. You laughed a little. 
“If we spend any more time in here, Mrs Keller is going to think we’re about to defile her kitchen.”
“We almost did,” Logan smirked watching your face heat before he started fixing your hair and your top. 
And you did the same with him. 
Finally walking back into the living room with the snacks, you and Logan sat back down together, your legs draped over his lap all the while your fingers subtly played with the ends of his hair, allowing your nails to run up and down the back of his neck every once in a while that had him shifting in his seat. 
You were out of there within forty minutes. 
But not before Mrs Keller gave Logan his own pair of cosy socks. 
“Yellow and blue,” she told him. “For some reason, they speak to me. They’re yours. You’re an honorary member. Feel free to drop in any session. We’d love to hear more about you two.”
Both yourself and Logan smiled before walking back to the car where he opened up the door for you before walking around and getting into the driver's seat. 
It took all of a month before everyone found out you and Logan had finally come together. Rogue and Hank seemed the most relieved that something had finally snapped between you two.
You both spent most mornings and nights tangled in each other’s arms, finally free to admit the truth to each other. 
You had loved Logan for a long time. And he had loved you just as long. 
Neither of you planned on stopping that any time soon. 
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savanir · 6 months ago
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DP x DC prompt [3]
during one of the final psych evals at Arkham right before he gets to be released, the whole thing wrapped up so tidy, just a little relapse which involved a robbery. Getting sent back to Arkham, but he got to stay at the asylum so long that he no longer has to serve a prison sentence, score!
But during that eval his overseeing psychiatrist recommended him to have a change of scenery, some fresh non polluted air.
Riddler was rather convinced the guy was making this recommendation to everyone in Arkham in their own weird way to convince them to just leave Gotham and become someone else's problem. should he notify Batman about it somehow? nah, it’ll be more interesting to see how this is gonna turn out in the long run.
But can he leave the state? Can he even leave the city? he never really bothered to look into it, at least not legally, up until now if he felt he needed to leave for one of his plans he just did it.
Turns out he can, it’s a whole hassle and a half though, first a judge and then a probation officer and he’s pretty sure both were like “what the hell is this psychiatrist guy thinking!?” but at the same time, shrink probably knows what he’s doing (WRONG) so he’s allowed to go visit out of state family or whatever.
he had to wear this nice ankle monitor though, Wayne Enterprises™ tech, not overly bulky but still very present. real fancy, and a fun extra challenge heh.
now as for a good reason to leave New Jersey he’s going to need distant relatives, and he finds some, great grandpa walker also has a son, who had a son who had a daughter Madeline, who married some guy Jack Fenton, and she lives somewhere out in the boonies Illinois. great he’ll visit her.
far enough away in all sense of the word that there is no way she knows anything about him. it would be best to call her first though, be polite about it.
“hello, you have reached Fenton works, this is Maddie speaking” 
“Riddle me this-” ah whoops, habit, oh whatever, “we don’t share parents, but certainly a part of your life, from laughter to strife. Who am I?”
there is a pause …  he’s going to be a bit disappointed if she hangs up if he’s honest.
“cousins~” comes the cheery reply.
“correct! the name is Edward Nygma, we are distantly related you and I and well-”
“oh you simply must come visit!” 
well this was rather easy, perhaps a little too easy, but she lives in the midwest so maybe just going with whatever some guy says over the phone is normal there? stranger danger not really a thing in a small town where everyone knows everyone?
things start to make a little more sense once he gets there and he’s starting to think some things might run in the family. like a preference for the colour green and weird hyperfixations and genius bordering on insanity. Though that remains to be seen, Jack does not seem like a very bright light after his very enthusiastic welcome.
their kids however are observant and sharp. young Jasmine is wasting no time trying to psychoanalyze him. and the boy, Danny, he had not really meant to and he swears he’s sticking with calling the kid Danny so he wouldn’t seem overly familiar, but he might have called him little bird a couple times now.
but that’s all whatever, he’s playing nice here. and he doesn’t even have to worry about his eccentricities tripping him up because this place is insane.
There actually is a local teen vigilante active but he seems about as loved as he’s disliked. and the ghost boy’s enemies are basically all his own kind, which another crazy thing to now know about. ghost. they are real actually, how is Gotham not completely overrun? and how do they even work? and where do they keep coming from?
Edward might be getting a little sidetracked here. He had fully intended to sneakily get his next big game plan underway all the way out here, ankle monitor be damned. but he hasn’t made any progress at all.
Instead he’s been listening to Madeline and Jack to maybe figure out what the deal is with these ectoplasmic entities, he has to know, at this point he might go crazier if he doesn’t. 
He’s making Jasmine promise him not to get her doctorate in Gotham, he’s going back and forth with space riddles with Danny.
so yeah the whole thing kinda just became a vacation, maybe the psychiatrist had the right idea after all? hmm nah, probably not. but this is fun. He’s thinking about recommending this place to some of the others.
It's different enough to get the vacation feel, but enough crazy shit happens to make it all feel like home.
it is not until Maddie wants to talk with him about potentially switching the position of godfather of Danny to him rather than some weird rich friend of theirs that Edward realizes he might have lost the plot somewhere
Apparently the little bird basically begged them with a powerpoint presentation on how he likes Edward so much more than that Vladimir guy. 
And honestly, the fellow sounds like a Dracula Lutho so even if it’s kinda sad Edward can understand why he’d be considered a better option. Even if the guy has more money and a huge company that makes him said money. And it’s not like the Fentons know about his Riddler activities.
Thinking it over, Edward does think that Danny would like Gotham and Wayne has that space program thing right? The kid is definitely smart enough for that (Nygma certified), and yeah Edward does quite like their space themed back and forth. So, fuck it, why not, what is the worst that could happen?
He doubts Maddie and Jack are gonna kick it any time soon anyway out here in the boonies, it’s just a title thing, a stamp of approval or something.
he should have known he was going to eat those words later… he had this whole beautifully elaborate trap set up for the whole Batclan, and he was just getting to the good part when his phone went off.
Had to put the whole thing on pause cause that particular contact wasn’t gonna get ignored. He did promise to be available.
If the whole thing he had planned now went tits up he could at the very least laugh later at the reactions of the bats as he told them to “hold up one second, I have to take this.” while they were all in various perilous positions. 
Sadly he did have to go, he had a very distressed godson to pick up.
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mmelolabelle · 5 months ago
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Armand is someone who has been has been trained (in brothels, by Marius, and by 500+ years worth of life experience) to adapt himself to what the people around him want. Throughout seasons 1-2, different people get very different versions of Armand, depending on who they are and who’s retelling the story at the time.
It’s the primary way Armand protects himself, whether he’s a teenage sex slave or the oldest, strongest person in the room. It’s how he controls people. Fundamentally, it’s the only way Armand knows to make people love him (an approximation of love at least). Worse, it’s the only way Armand knows how to love — by twisting and contorting himself into whatever form he thinks his current obsession wants or needs him to be. He even does it to his victims for crying out loud.
And then here’s Daniel, who is constantly seeking authenticity and truth. Who’s bullshit detector is never “off”. Who cannot tolerate any kind of masquerade, manipulation or lie – no matter how kind or well intentioned. Not out of any moral or ethical objection, but because Daniel simply cannot leave things well enough alone once something attracts his attention. He has to know. He has to see where it goes and how it ends.
“It’s my job, I’m built this way”
“It’s in your nature, Mr Molloy. Couldn’t get out the door without lobbing one more bomb.”
Daniel knew something was off about “Rashid” from the beginning, so he began to pick the situation in Dubai apart until Armand revealed himself. And then he kept going until he completely destroyed the narrative Armand had spent 77 years constructing.
Daniel deliberately and systematically pulled “Armand, Amadeo, Arun” apart and laid him bare with nothing but but a laptop, some free time, a near-suicidal disregard for his own personal safety and a mouth that just wouldn’t quit.
There’s power in being seen, in being known, ugly parts and all. What would it feel like, to be completely exposed like that for the first time in centuries?
So yeah it makes sense to me that Armand, who puts on all these acts and artifices to draw people in, but which only serve to ensure they’re kept at a distance, would turn his big sad orange eyes on the person who blew them all to smithereens and be all “…I wanna do this forever, actually.”
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coquelicoq · 1 year ago
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matoba has to feel so smug about this though. 1) oooh he WANTS me he NEEDS me he has to have me so bad that hes gotta come in here and make a scene about it and 2) hes just like me fr...
crashes ur board meeting n drags u out by the collar but its fine bc youre the one always saying shit like "im looking for people i can use" ok lol. get used idiot
#teen matoba trying to make like he's testing natori to see if natori will be useful to him#when ACTUALLY he's like oooh look at me shuuichi-san i'm sooo strong i'm stronger than you tee hee *twirls hair*#you can't protect anyone if you're not strong. you should be finding people who can make you stronger...HINT HINT#well it took him seven years but he finally internalized the lesson!#he's all growed up and abducting people to serve his own ends...senpai's proudest moment *sniffles*#homura cats arc#natsume's book of friends#f#horrible exorcists#maybe they didn't talk in the car after all because matoba was just radiating satisfaction so loudly#natori: shut up. matoba: i didn't say anything <3 [they narrowly avoid dying in a ditch when natori corners too hard]#natori: NOT A WORD. YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HOW TO DRIVE AND YOU HAVE TERRIBLE DEPTH PERCEPTION.#matoba: again i am just sitting here /_^#famous heartthrob actor man being a cringefail loser in front of his secret rival is sth that can actually be so personal...#like let's review this day in the life of natori shuuichi‚ handsome idol‚ talented exorcist‚ head of his clan:#1) manhandles matoba in public in such a way that embarrasses only himself and not matoba#2) drives his car so badly that matoba later refuses his offer to hang out after work even though matoba is obsessed w him#3) is told to stay put and babysit while matoba and the teen natori brought him here to save#go do dangerous things that matoba deems him not strong enough for <3#4) is entrusted with natsume's precious heirloom slash WMD and almost loses it to HIS OWN MAGIC the total dumbass#but then! 5) he saves matoba! and after that! 6) he and matoba do their sexy joint spellcasting!!#then 7) everybody finds out he's 'pro-matoba' and 8) no one will let him drive them home in his car :(#he fully takes it on the chin the entire day long and it doesn't even really seem to phase him#he knew he was outmatched so he went to get matoba even though that was embarrassing. he did it anyway. no shame#matoba says stay behind you weakling and he does without arguing#he can't fight the puppet while also protecting sensei and the BOF so he's just like okay time to retreat#natori shuuichi has the most interesting ego of any fictional character ever perhaps#how does he do it? he wasn't born with it...it might be maybelline though. i can't rule it out#it's at least partially maybelline (where maybelline = deliberate and skilled shaping of other people's perceptions#through manipulation of external appearances...redirection via the artistry of artifice...et cetera)
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boxingcleverrr · 1 year ago
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Popular Hades & Persephone "retellings" are, rightly, getting dunked on all over the socials right now and, as a Pagan who has an altar to the Queen, I could not be happier. But also, I feel like a lot of people miss WHY they're bad - aside from just plain bad writing and lazy tropes. Which are, yeah, also REALLY bad.
Pretty much all retellings try to wave away, or excuse, or twist the whole kidnapping bit. And I actually do have sympathy and understanding for why, when speaking from a modern perspective.
But honestly...you gotta get over it. There are other stories to play fix-it with, not this one.
The Abduction is The Thing.
Were I a little more sober I could bring up chapter and verse of the Hymn to Demeter but frankly, if you know even the middle school mythology curriculum version of the story, you SHOULD know the themes. The story of Persephone was one mothers and daughters in the ancient world held dear, because it was a reality: you will, one day, be swept away from your home to go cleave to a man you most likely know nothing about. You will miss your mother, but chances are very good that he will be a good husband, once you get to know him, certainly better than Zeus or Ares, and he will make you a queen of his home.
Leaving home to marry was often scary, and violent (look up the history of the tradition of Bridesmaids, if you don't already know it - they were originally decoys on the marriage road). Centuries later we'd have tales like Beauty & The Beast serving the same function: comfort, hope, you are leaving your safe loving home to figure life out with a (often older, powerful) stranger. Your trauma over this sudden ending of your childhood made manifest in a Beast, or a God of The Underworld.
It's wonderful that we don't NEED stories like this anymore to comfort us (here, at least, in this culture). But if you try to force them into modern vernacular it just will not work, not really, because you're gutting out the whole point just to have a more tidy romantic male hero.
I have read MANY very good ...novelizations? fanfic(? however you would frame them, but they're certainly not "retellings"), etc. that simply take advantage of the blank spaces in the myth, and there are many!
It's not explicit that sexual assault happens - "The Rape of Persephone" as a title was coined in much earlier eras, when the word was just as often used to simply refer to abduction.
"She was starving!" the gods didn't need to eat. So it's easy to read her eating the Pom seeds as a deliberate choice on her part. Like, shit, people, scholars have written whole papers on the symbolism of this moment, between marriage rites and even yeah, Seph choosing both worlds with her husband's knowing consent.
And that, I think, is the real heart of the thing. People want an utterly mundane, spelled-out story here, as opposed to what it really is, has always been, just like any other myth or religious parable: IT'S A METAPHOOOOOOR.
They don't need to be destined, or meet at a goddamned BALL and then CONSPIRE to fake her kidnapping, or shit, I once saw one where Hades got MIND CONTROLLED by Zeus?! Jesus.
Persephone was yoinked into the Underworld against her will.
That's how it went.
I don't mean this in a "stay out of my belief system!" way, shit I'm a white American chick with delusions of witchery. I mean this in a "stop stressing yourself out trying to make things palatable" way:
This is a very real, very precious myth to many people, BECAUSE for at least that one event, Persephone had no autonomy, BECAUSE for thousands of years most women had no autonomy. Erasing that, sanitizing the fact that a girl is ripped out of the spring, from her mother's arms, is erasing the thing that gave comfort to women for centuries. And people can and should still find power and healing in it now!
Fill in the blanks the story leaves in whatever manner seems fit to you, there's plenty of room, but. Come the fuck on.
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koobiie · 11 days ago
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bestowing my highest honor as an artist to ffxv (drawing the characters in fun outfits)
thoughts under the cut
RREAAAGHHHH SO EXCITED TO BE DONE WITH THIS!!!!! it took me forevarrrr but i soldiered through as an act of love. now excuse me. yap time
OKAY SO the concept behind this was originally specific fashion subcultures for everyone!l ike noct emo ignis dark academia etc. but then decided i didnt want to pigeonhole it all and just freestyled outfits i thought would look nice on everyone
noct - i do think noct would still be emo-ish but also opt for comfy baggy stuff a lot. something you could just fall asleep in on the spot. note the details of bass pro shop shirt (of course) XV necklace, little moon + stars accents, carbuncle + fish keychains. i also wanted his metal band logo shirt to spell LUCIS but i forgor some letters but its not very readable anyways
ignis - ignit ooohghh ignos ignaurs. sorry i made him serve so much cunt it will happen again. i drew him first cause that kind of inspired this whole thing i love him so bad if i didnt draw it id explode. not much detail to note except his collar pins are like his double blade thingies
luna - lunaaa the concept was “clean girl aesthetic” idk if that happened but im actually really happy with how it came out! might be my favorite of the bunch just because she looks so pretty and happy. your honor she should have been able to just be a normal girl and just. chill
prompto - prompotoooo i had trouble picking his vibe!!! my first thought was techwear?? because weeheeeehee he loves tech and well... you know... but then i realized i didnt really like the look of anything i saw + it was so bulky and dark and serious for him! ending up going with some more youthful and baggy. i was considering something more loud and colorful but ended up not going with it. i feel like in canon he'd be too nervous to have such a flashy fit and would want to just look "cool" to fit in with the boys lol. itty bitty details here - chocobo keychain, pompompurin and bi miku buttons, and his lanyard is kings knight themed! i also thought it was funny to write LUCIS on his shirt like you know those shirts that just say BROOKLYN or TOKYO or SAN FRANCISCO and thats it. thats what its like
gladio - okay i know this is going to sound like a lie but im not horny for gladio like at all, hes my least favorite, i think he's just alright. but also i KNOW in my heart of hearts that he would LOVE being a leather daddy and so i had to make it happen. main detail to note here is that his tank top has the motifs of a cup noodle! i didnt know what else to add cause you know.. hes the cup noodle guy.. but also i didnt want it to be so in your face about it with a big as logo so kept it subtle!
(side note the leather daddy gave me an idea for a post where its like noct and prom go to a gay bar all nervous but then they run into gladio and its like "p: GLADIO YOURE GAY?" "n: nevermind that PLEASE dont tell ignis we snuck out" and then ignis walks up and theyre all like WHAT THE FUCK!!!! caption would be "the gang finds out theyre all bisexual." probably wont draw it but i think its very funny lol)
iris - iris my sweetheart.... definitely leaned into the scene vibes here and also that one image of the blonde emo anime girl. details here - of course the moogle big ass backpack and keychain (can you tell i love keychains), but also her buttons are an iris (the flower) and also a crown with hearts (haha symbolism)
anyways oh god i didnt mean to write an essay down here. usually i keep this in the tags but this time i just had Too Much To Say. can you tell i put a lot of thought and love into this . anwyays. *walks off into the sunset and fuckig dies*
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sutorus · 1 year ago
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✰ HC: BEING IN A SITUATIONSHIP WITH THE JJK F*CKBOYS
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DESCRIPTION: my hcs on what it’d be like to be in a situationship/fwb situation with the jjk men hehe
FEATURED: gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, fushiguro toji
WARNINGS: 18+ MINORS DNI. fem + afab reader, this is fully self indulgent i'm just taking my own shiddy experiences and coping via hot anime men, suggestive content/smut, pretty standard manwhore behavior, slightly toxic, not wholesome, kinda crack tbh, some mentions of degradation as a kink, objectifying women, just like the real thing lol!
A/N: LONG BUT READ! this will Not have an ending where you get together at least not rn these are just my hcs all in good fun ur just having fun ok ur not heartbroken everything is okay. they are not good boys here they are normal regular boys
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GOJO SATORU
has way too many hoes. way too many
so much so that he gave up on remembering their names and just saves their numbers like “osaka w the hand kink”, “big tits shibari”, “slut from trig”, “hostess best bjs”
has someone’s boobs with his name written on them in sharpie as his wallpaper
says i love you when he cums inside and you never know if you should believe it
throws you off when he agrees to meet your friends only for him to flirt with them in front of you
takes you to the best clubs with bottle service, lets the girls sit on his lap and laughs when you get mad
pays for your ubers everywhere every time
into the weirdest shit like wearing your underwear laughing like a lunatic the whole time he’s fucking you then after he cums gets sulky and embarrassed
lays it on thick with the pet names, gives zero fucks if that confuses you even further
very public with you and it makes you wonder how many other girls put themselves through this humiliation just for the d
gets jealous about you being with other people and needs to prove himself by eating it from the back or something
fwb with gojo is just a huge mindfuck honestly he doesn’t take anything seriously and this is no different sorry! it’s fun tho!
GETO SUGURU
keeps it extremely platonic because he likes to tell himself he has a conscience
too busy for regular chit chat ignores your texts all day then hits you up when he wants to fuck
even more of a whore than gojo is which is why he makes sure not to lead anyone on he just does not need the trouble
answers all your personal questions about him with one word answers
he lets you choose the movie for netflix and chill at least! but will never remember it or the fact that it’s your favorite :(
cleans you up after sex and brings you water
has female hygiene products in his bathroom which is both a red and a green flag
lets you stay after sex and you just lay there on his bed watching him do stuff on his computer but he will not be talking to you
never calls you baby or anything when he’s fucking you just goes oh fuck yeah right there fuuuuck your pussy
genuinely respects you and has nice decent sex with you unless you tell him that you’re kinky
in which case he fucks you just how you want it and gets off on how turned on you are
not one of those guys who gets jealous of sex toys and holds the wand on your clit for you
likes to make you cum over and over and over again
fwb with geto makes your heart clench because he’s just such a gentleman but you got way too much competition to even think about it
NANAMI KENTO
a professional in every sense of the word
uses sex as stress relief
thinks he's too old for this shit but you make him feel alive so he fucks you like he can empty all of his frustrations into you
invites you to his apartment serves you expensive liquor and lets you initiate things most times unless he’s too pent up
can actually have very nice conversations with you
never has the “what are we talk” because he makes it clear he’s too busy for a relationship
lets you spend the night if it’s too late but solely for your safety/logistics
does your taxes for you but will not call you anything beyond an “acquaintance”
texts you happy holidays but does not know when your birthday is
gets tested consistently even though he’s not fucking anyone else and always uses a condom unless you beg him not to
eats you out because he thinks it’s relaxing and spends hours prepping you
the sexual tension is soooo thick when you two fuck all you can hear is grunts and growls and moans and wet slapping sounds and it’s so hot
has some random turn ons like gets bricked up when you’re wearing lipstick or stockings
fwb with nanami is very enjoyable and easy it’ll get complicated if you develop feelings because he does not want to date but who cares yolo am i right
FUSHIGURO TOJI
broke ass deadbeat dad why are you into him
absolutely nasty sex
you know if he had a girlfriend he’d respect her too much to do the things he does to you
dick game so bomb that you’re scared he’s gonna give you a child even when he’s wearing a condom
wants to fuck you every way he possibly can on every fuckable surface with zero regard for your physical integrity
eats his cum right out of you
ego is so big, grins so wide and fucks you so hard when you stroke his muscles
loves to eat pussy but only after he’s fucked you because he likes it tight and hot with minimal prep
doesn’t follow you on any social media but jerks off to your instagram pics
has like 3 different phone numbers and you don’t know why
has only let you come over once, didn’t let you shower after
no pet names but calls you a dirty whore and other degrading shit
loves it if you cry on his dick
doesn’t give a fuck about your safety sorry you’re on your own
has never told you his last name
one time you asked to see a picture of his son and he didn’t speak for 3 whole minutes
fwb with toji is the nastiest sex you’ve ever had truly it’s just sinful and everyone’s dark hidden fantasy half of it you couldn’t tell your closest friends because it’s just too much
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a/n sorry
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kenjakusbraincum · 1 year ago
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Heey, I LOVE your writings on soft sukuna, you write so beautifully🩷 please can you do one where he is jealous (fluff)😭🩷
Thank you sm for the kind words!!! Here's my best attempt at doing your idea justice <3
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Sukuna has no real reason to be jealous. He practically owns you, controls every aspect of your life, who or what could he possibly be jealous of? Every servant who dared approach you in an inappropriate way would be dealt with swiftly. And you're a good pet, who has eyes for no one other than your master. You really don't give him a reason.
But there's this one thing... Since you've been so good and obedient, Sukuna has allowed you many liberties. You're permitted to skip around the mansion, watch Uraume cook, even enjoy little hobbies. You've tried many before you found that crocheting particularly piqued your interest. Ever since you've learned the basics, you've been spending hours working on perfecting your skills. At first it was cute, watching you squint in concentration as you move the hook. But then the math became really simple - having this hobby to keep you busy meant you approached Sukuna out of boredom a lot less. And he noticed it. It irked him, but you're not technically doing anything wrong. You were still as happy to serve him as ever, he just had to ask. But why would he have to ask? You should be all over him on your own. He should have to push you away, not beg you to give him attention. He didn't like this disturbance in your master and pet balance that this little hobby of yours caused.
He stands at the door now. You're crocheting again. You and your favorite servant laugh at your failed creation so sweetly, you don't even notice he's waiting. He clicks his tongue to establish his presence, and your servant falls to her knees immediately. You however, are not held to that high of a standard anymore.
"Master!", you call him, and hop up to greet him with a deep bow. Before he can say anything, you've picked up the piece of fabric you've been working on and ran into his arms to show him.
He looks at the ugly form and scoffs. "This is what I'm sponsoring?", he says and pulls a loose piece of yarn, making your little creation fall apart. He always was a bully, but you note his bad mood.
"I'm only a beginner...", you sulk.
"That much is obvious.", he flicks the yarn away and it falls onto the floor. Before you can bend to pick it up, he seizes your wrist and pulls you back. "Aren't you a little young to waste time with hobbies for the elderly?", he asks. You look at him with your cutest, practiced doe eyes, but it doesn't work.
"Come, pet. I know an activity more suitable for your age.", he says when you don't respond, and steps out of the room. You hop after him, unaffected by his condescending comments. You know that they're just for show. If he really thought you were a hag, you would've been gone a long time ago.
"Sitting at your throne all day?", you tease innocently and join him at his side, sliding your arm underneath one of his. You hope your playfulness will distract him from whatever is bothering him. "Or in a bath?" His lower set of eyes peeks at you and smirks, noticing that you're feeling particularly daring today. He's not sure how he feels about that. "Or in your bed." He rolls his eyes gently and opens the door to his chambers.
"At least then you'd be serving your purpose and actually spending time with your master.", he comments and shuts the door. His comment catches you a bit off guard and you stop in front of his bed. He makes his way towards you, and you look up at him with an insulted expression.
"Master, are you jealous of a ball of yarn?", you ask playfully, and squeal when he suddenly pushes you down to sit on the bed. Now you're at eye level... with his crotch.
"You've got quite a big mouth today. Put it to good use for a change, will you?", he runs his hand from the crown of your head to the back of your neck. You seem to have struck a nerve, so it really is the ball of yarn. Is it possible that Sukuna is this clingy?
"Will you?", he repeats and tugs on your hair and narrows his eyes. You smile obediently and reach behind him to untie his obi.
"Yes Master."
-
You try your best to manage the time you spend crocheting from then on, working on productivity in the hours that you dedicate to developing this skill. And it helps that you have a specific goal in mind now: helping Sukuna realize that this hobby is a friend, not an enemy. He still catches you engaging in it sometimes, and gives you a dirty look, but you're as quick as ever to drop what you're doing and join him. That seems to satisfy him.
When you're finally happy with the result of your creation, you look for Sukuna around the mansion. It's not really that hard to find him, as he frequents three places most of all: the dining room, his bedroom and his throne room. This time, he's sitting on his throne, and a small line of people wait for their turn to be gifted his attention. You on the other hand, don't have to wait in line to get it. His lower set of eyes spots you the moment you enter the chamber. You're allowed to roam the mansion, but barging in unannounced is not standard even for you.
Still, Sukuna has learned that you usually only feel daring enough to cross boundaries when you're sure he'll like what you have in mind. So for now, he will let this slide. He's bored as hell anyways. The people are dismissed and you pass by them on your way to his throne, nestled on a pile of bones. You stop in front of it and greet him with a bow.
"Master, I come to you with a humble offering.", you say with your hands on your thighs and your eyes fixated on the ground.
"Show me.", he says simply, but you recognize entertainment in his voice. You climb up the bones and feel his stare scan you from head to toe, before you sit on his knee.
"May I ask you to close your eyes?", you ask and flutter your lashes. Oh the way you seduce him. Who else could ask Sukuna to do something as dangerous as close his eyes? Give his opponent valuable time to land an attack. Who else could dare? And who else would he ever listen to and really close his eyes? Really do as he's told? Oh how safe he feels with you.
You take one of his large hands into yours, and gently pry his long fingers away to open his palm. He has beautiful hands. The only ones you've ever known, but you're sure they're the most beautiful hands in the world. So dangerous, so elegant. You want to press a kiss to his palm, but you hope your gift will have the same, maybe even more profound effect.
Something soft touches his skin, and then you speak, as politely as before. "You may look.", in your softest voice. And when he opens his eyes, he finds himself looking at you first. You're an offering on your own.
Then he looks at his hand. Two crocheted plush figures resembling him and yourself lay flat on his palm, connected through their holding hands. At first glance, it looks like they're two separate creations. In a sense, they are, but... He tries to part them.
"We're sewn together.", you explain. He hums in amusement and inspects your gift more closely. His plush is bigger, recognizable by the pink hair and four buttons for eyes. It's even wearing his favorite kimono. Yours is smaller and less detailed. You look like any other human when placed next to him, insignificant. But in a sea of pets, entertainers and lovers he's had in the past, he would never fail to recognize it as you.
He's spent so long looking at it with that face of his that you just can't read. You're starting to grow restless in his lap, and he feels your eyes dwell into his soul. When he looks back at you with one pair of eyes, your brows are furrowed in worry and you're fiddling your hands in your lap. He pats you on the head and pulls you closer, so you have no choice but to lean on his frame.
"It's beautiful, darling.", his fingers run through your hair, scraping your scalp softly. "No loose threads either.", he looks at you with all four eyes now, and you feel so small in his arms. You're not used to receiving this many compliments from Sukuna at once. Not ones that weren't directed at your body or performance. Especially not when he's looking at you so tenderly, when every word sounds so loving and genuine. "You've improved so much.", his hand is on your face now, and you catch him glancing at your lips. You part them to start thanking him, but you already know how much he hates listening to that.
You stay quiet instead, and lean closer, letting him take you. And he kisses you so softly, fingertips light against your heated skin. You feel like you're floating, like a lily pad in a warm pond. The littlest gesture of his affection has you melting in his embrace. The power he has over you... and how wonderful it is to surrender yourself to it.
None of the liberties and privileges you've been awarded with compare to this. You know that many pets have walked these halls before you. Many warmed his bed and claimed the title of his favorite. But how many loved him like this? Enough to dedicate time of their day to making intricate gifts. How many could say Sukuna kissed them lovingly, for no other reason than to show gratitude and affection?
You're flushed completely red by the time his lips leave yours. You can't hold the intensity of his gaze, as he stares at you in adoration. "I'm happ.. I'm glad you l-like it...", you stumble through the words and win a giggle out of him. You are just so cute. Like a pet should be. He rubs your head again and pushes you away lightly.
"Go now, the people await me.", he says with a benevolent smile gracing his face. "I'll see you tonight."
You bow to him and leave.
And when you visit him that night, he is as gentle as he was when he kissed you earlier, still in a good mood after your gift. Caressing your hair, shoulders and back, as you lay comfortably with your head on his chest. Keeping you warm in his embrace. You're trying your best to follow the conversation, but sleep is slowly taking over you. Sukuna notices and plants a kiss to your forehead, wishing you goodnight. The last thing you see before your eyes close, is your handcrafted plushies sitting on his nightstand.
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ellecdc · 18 days ago
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hii!! i saw that ur requests were open and i was like omgomgomg. i was wondering if you could do poly!jegulus x reader (in ravenclaw/hufflepuff) and its like the cliche tie switch type of thing where they all end up with eachothers tie colours (like james gets a green tie, reg gets a blue tie, and reader gets a red tie). and omg pls feel free to ignore this ik its an odd one. anywhosies i love your fics !! you truly have such a talent for writing :)
soooo cute hehehe, thanks for your request! hope I did the trope justice <3
poly!jegulus x fem!reader who all swap ties [819 words]
CW: somewhat secret relationship (at least James' involvement), accidental outing of that relationship, reader is portrayed as shy and Ravenclaw
You were shy. 
Certainly far shier than Sirius, shier than Remus, and perhaps even shier than Regulus. 
And it was because you were so shy that Sirius almost felt bad for saying something. 
Almost. 
“Oi, Rem,” Sirius started whilst keeping his salacious smirk pointed at you, completely unawares of the piss being taken at your expense, “I think you might need to take 10 points from Ravenclaw for being out of uniform.”
Remus looked up from the article he’d been reading as the piece of toast that had been on its way to his mouth paused midair, and you furrowed your brows as you looked up at Sirius from under your lashes. 
“Me?” You nearly squeaked when you realised Sirius’ predatory gaze was pointed at you, though Remus had the grace to smile at you apologetically. 
“Your tie, love.” Remus explained gently, but that didn’t seem to clear things up for you.
“But…I have my tie on?” You argued in the form of the question, hand migrating unconsciously to the well-tied knot at your neck when James’ voice permeated the atmosphere.
“Angel!” He called out breathlessly as he made it over to the Gryffindor table. “I, erm, I think there might have been a mix up.” 
Sirius watched you turn your head - which only served to draw further attention to the fact that you were not wearing your own house colours - to see James loosening the blue and copper tie from around his own neck. 
Sirius couldn’t even enjoy the widening of your eyes or the slacking of your jaw when he realised something.
“Wha- wait, no, wait, hang on.” Sirius sputtered as Remus nearly choked on his tea. “Why do you have her tie?”
Your hand quickly began to loosen the tie situated around your neck, though your movements slowed when you realised-
“For Salazar’s sake, Potter.” They heard Regulus hiss as he stalked over from the Slytherin table; Barty, Evan, and Dorcas cackling, seemingly at his expense (to the point that Barty actually slipped off the bench in a fit of laughter), as he ripped the red and gold tie from around his neck.
“What the fuck!?” Sirius shrieked as you finally pulled the green and silver tie off of your person and timidly held it out to your boyfriend. 
“Can’t believe you were so quick to blame it on me, Reggie.” James teased; easily replacing his own house tie to his neck and casually fixing the collar of his shirt whilst Regulus turned a completely new shade of pink and you looked like you were hoping for the floor of the Great Hall to simply swallow you up. “It takes two to tango.”
“Or three.” Remus chuckled under his breath, wincing when his boyfriends ire turned towards him. 
“Did you know!?” Sirius asked his maybe possibly soon to be ex boyfriend (or certainly his boyfriend who would be getting no cuddles or chocolates from Honeydukes for the next foreseeable future). 
“I…had a hunch?” Remus tried.
“The three of you!?” Sirius barked at the three of you then, though you and Regulus seemed to understand the question was for James. 
“Yeah!” James responded easily. “We’re pretty cute together, huh?”
Your shoulders migrated impossibly higher at the attention as you tried to cave in on yourself, and Regulus simply rolled his eyes at what he clearly felt was a Gryffindor brand of nonsense. 
Sirius had no response to that, though it didn’t appear James was waiting for one. James - the sod - simply pressed a kiss to the side of your head before doing much the same for Regulus and continuing back out of the Great Hall for his meeting with McGonagall as the Headboy. 
Regulus let out a frustrated huff and narrowed his eyes at his brother as if just daring him to say anything, though Sirius watched his face soften significantly when he turned his attention to you. 
“D’accord, amour?” He murmured quietly. (translation: alright?)
“Ouais.” You offered quickly. “But, erm, can you go away now?” 
Sirius sort of expected Regulus to huff in offence or chide you for being quite rude, but Regulus seemed to understand that you simply did not like the attention right now and actually smiled at you. 
What the fuck was happening right now!? 
“Tu vas bien, mon amour.” (translation: you're okay, my love) Regulus whispered into the side of your head where he pressed his lips before he departed, but the expression on your face made it look as though you very much disagreed with that. 
“Oh my gods?!” Sirius let out then when it was just Remus, you, and himself. 
“What’s that saying?” Remus asked as he looked back at his newspaper with a satisfied smirk on his face. “Curiosity killed the kneazle?”
“I wasn’t curious, Moons. I was trying to take the piss.” Sirius pouted.
Remus simply hummed at his petulant boyfriend as he winked at you over the Daily Prophet. “Call it karma, then.”
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the-travelling-witch · 10 months ago
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𝐓𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒
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summary: having your period is already stressful enough and being in a magical all-boys school doesn't make it any better; luckily, your boyfriend is here to help
pairings: leona :: jade :: jamil x gn!reader
warnings: period comfort; mentions of periods and different symptoms (but gn pronouns), mentions of reader having hair in jade's part
twisted wonderland masterlist || similar writing: bloody hell [obey me]
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𝐋𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐀 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑
It was decidedly too early for this.
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes as you walked through the hallways, head down to keep from making eye contact with the beastmen staring at you as you passed them. After tossing and turning all night, kept from finding sleep by painful cramps, being ogled at by students at an all boys school that could smell the blood on you was the last thing you needed.
And it wasn’t like you hadn’t tried to avoid this. When you had realised the predicament you would inevitably find yourself in, you had downright begged Crowley to let you stay at Ramshackle. After all, a certain Ignihyde dorm leader also never attended class in person. But, really, you should have known better. As if the headmage would let his number one therapist stay home for a few days each month or as he put it, he 'couldn’t rob a precious student like yourself of the opportunity to learn'.
At least Sam was an actual help and had magically procured just the stuff you needed.
So, with heavy eyes and burning cheeks you speed walked towards your first class of the day, dodging students at the last second on more than one occasion until you eventually ran straight into a sturdy chest. Looking up briefly to apologise, you blinked at the familiar emerald eyes sizing you up.
“Leona! What are you doing here?” Most people’s first reaction to seeing their boyfriend would probably not be bewilderment, but running into your boyfriend inside the school during class hours was as likely as Ace making it through a week without being collared by his housewarden.
“That’s funny, ‘cause I was about to ask you the same thing,” the lion drawled, ears flicking to help convey the incredulousness painted on his face. “So, what do you think you’re doing?”
As imposing as he was with his athletic build and the unimpressed expression, causing the students around you to serve around the two of you, you weren’t affected at all, used to his grumpy exterior.
“Uhm, going to class?” You deadpanned, putting your hand on your hip to mirror his stance. “Unlike someone else I know.”
“Yeah, you’re not doing that,” Leona stated matter of factly.
“Excuse you?” When he tried pulling you along by your arm, away from the direction of your classroom, you dug your heels into the ground. “I hate to sound like a broken record but what are you doing, Leona?”
“Making you get some rest, obviously.” You couldn’t see it from where you stood but you could practically hear the way he rolled his eyes. 
“Listen I can’t just skip class, I talked to the headmage–”
“Crowley can solve his own problems for a day,” his voice rumbled low in his throat, almost sounding like a growl, “you know, like an actual adult. And don’t try to play dumb with me herbivore, it’s not a good look on you. I know you sleep like shit when you get your period and I also know that the people around you don’t take your health into account when they get up to some stupid idea.”
“Yeah but-”
You saw the annoyed flick of his tail before he turned around and braced his hands on your shoulders without ever applying any pressure. By now the last bell had rang and the corridor was deserted, leaving you to be the only people standing in the early morning light.
“Don’t give me this self-sacrificial nonsense,” Leona said, words harsh but you knew him well enough to read the protective feeling behind them. “We both know you need to rest. What good would it really do you to go to class in this state?”
As if to agree with him, a nasty cramp pulled at your lower stomach and the ill suppressed grimace on your face must have been all too apparent to your boyfriend. Giving your arm another light tug, Leona coaxed you towards the Hall of Mirrors again with a tempting ‘C’mon’ and this time you let him pull you along willingly, even handing him your backpack when he reached out for it.
Sometimes, it was hard to forget the kind of culture Leona grew up in, one where women held a high position of power in general, so really you shouldn’t be surprised by how… normal he was about all of this. Part of that was probably also because it was a very gentlemanly excuse to skip class in favour of a nap, if you were honest.
“If you’re that worried about missing class, Jack can give you his notes.” His offhand comment made you snort. Of course, he would offer someone else’s service to you before anything else.
“Or my third-year boyfriend could tutor me,” you teased, a playful lilt swinging in your voice.
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” the lion shrugged. “Weren’t you just on my case about my attendance record?”
“Because the first-year curriculum is just too hard for someone who can turn an entire stadium into dust,” you jabbed.
“You’re yapping a lot for someone who’s this tired,” Leona grumbled, a large palm pushing your head down, careful not to hurt you. With a giggle you decided to drop the topic. 
Crossing the Hall of Mirrors and stepping through the Savanclaw portal, you were greeted by the  warm breeze of dry air typical for the dorm’s daytime. After the trek through the savanna past the spring in the common room and across the wooden bridges, you reached Leona’s room and you could already feel the tension seep from your body as you stepped into its comfortable familiarity. 
When you unbuttoned your uniform’s blazer, you caught a glimpse of your stomach through your shirt, slightly extended further than usual due to the bloating. And rationally you knew it was a normal bodily reaction to your period but paired with the new bumps on your face and general exhaustion, logic wasn’t quite enough to calm your mind.
The clothes being plopped down on your head, however, certainly did rip you from your thoughts. Lifting the ends of the black material covering your eyes you threw your boyfriend a questioning glare.
“I can tell you’re thinking something stupid,” Leona offered as an explanation. “Just get changed and come to bed.”
Huffing under your breath, you stepped into his ensuite bathroom to do as he said, pulling on your boyfriend’s shirt and sweatpants. While you didn’t feel like agreeing with him quite yet, you had to admit, royal loungewear was a league of its own in comfort. And probably in price.
When you emerged, Leona had just tossed his phone on the nightstand before devoting all his attention to you. The ears on his head flicked as his gaze wandered from your head to toe and back up, a grin tugging at his lips and an appreciative glint in his green eyes. 
Then, the second you came within reach, he’d already wrapped you in his strong arms and pulled you into bed with him, not without a surprised squeal from you. You could feel his deep chuckle as much as you heard it with your head resting on his chest and resigned yourself to merely sighing fondly. 
With two firm hands stroking up and down the length of your back purposefully, their warmth spreading through your body, and his chest rising rhythmically underneath you, you finally allowed yourself to relax as you traced random patterns onto his biceps and pectorals and followed the movement with heavy-lidded eyes.
“You weren’t seriously looking down on yourself earlier, were you?” Leona mumbled, a serious care in his words he didn’t offer many people. 
“Well, you can’t really help it when your body goes through this many changes, can you?” you drowsily replied, your eyes already falling closed with no conscious work of your own. “Besides, periods are not the time you feel generally great about yourself.”
“No matter how you might see yourself, I don’t want you to doubt for even a second that I like you the way you are.” At his heartfelt confession, you peeked one eye open to study his expression.
“You can be quite the romantic if you want to huh?” You meekly chuckled, not able to help yourself.
“Go to sleep, herbivore, you’re talking crazy.” Even as he put one of his hands on the back of your head to keep you cradled against him, you didn’t miss how his ears flicked or the fondness with which he looked down on you.
“Alright, alright. I appreciate it though, really.” With a big yawn you shifted to get comfortable, your cramps far from your mind as you sunk into your boyfriend’s natural warmth. “Love you.”
By the time you’d wake up, Ruggie would have dropped off lunch along with some other essential items. But for now, Leona was content to watch as your breath evened out and your chest rose and fell in the rhythm of his own, careful not to disturb you when he draped a soft blanket over you. With the rising sun peeking through the arches of his room, he truthfully answered you in a whisper. 
“Love you, too.”
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𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐂𝐇
Once Jade had taken an interest in you, he would seemingly appear out of thin air in your general vicinity a lot more often than it was usual to run into a fellow student. On your way to the school store, in line at the cafeteria or when you were carrying supplies for Professor Crewel, the moray would coincidentally round a corner to lend a hand.
So it really shouldn’t have come as a surprise that, as his courting became more serious and you had become aware of what was going on, even reciprocating the sentiment, you found the sophomore waiting for you before your classes started. Your time table was well-memorised so he could greet you with a serene smile each day and walk you to your first class of the morning.
Now, as a moray eel with naturally sharp senses, it was somewhat inevitable he’d pick up on the scent of blood once your period rolled around. In contrast to beastmen who were mostly mammals in their anatomy, however, the Octatrio did not grow up on land and periods weren’t exactly a thing for merfolk. Moreover, seeing as they had only been on land for roughly two years and were attending an all-boys school, it was not a phenomenon they were likely to run into.
So, having his dear pearl approach one morning, the smell of iron heavy in the air, paired with their already soured mood and his lack of knowledge on the societal stigma around the topic, misunderstandings were bound to happen.
“I really don’t think it wise to attend class in your state,” the moray had stated after greeting you, an eyebrow raised at your stubbornness to continue with your day even at what, in his mind, must have been a grave injury. 
“I’m fine, Jade, I just want to get this day over with,” you had groaned, trying to push past the tall student and drop the topic, embarrassed enough that a sizable chunk of the student body would be aware of your predicament in the first place.
But who would he be to let a person he actually cared about go on their way with a bleeding wound? 
“Prefect, I must insist you seek medical aid immediately.” You remembered the uncharacteristically genuine furrow of his brows as he had blocked your path. “Please, go to the school nurse or at least let me tend to your needs. I’m certain I could be of help if you share your problem with me.”
“If you want to hear me say it so desperately,” you had huffed, “I’m on my period. Happy now?”
“Your period?” Jade had echoed with wide eyes, unknowingly speeding up the burning of your shortened fuse with his lack of knowledge. “Yes, I’m aware we are to attend class but I fail to see–”
“Very funny,” you had deadpanned, pushing past him with a cold shoulder and leaving the moray to his own confusion. “Now if you excuse me, I have better things to do than stand here and humour your feigned ignorance today.”
Yes it wasn’t your proudest moment, you’d admit that. And when Jade approached you later that day with a genuine apology, explaining how he had researched the topic and was deeply ashamed of his uninformed remarks, you felt like the worst person on the planet and apologised more than he had. So in the end, you came to an apology truce, where you noted he shouldn’t have prodded further when you didn’t want to talk about it and you shouldn’t have exploded on him like you did.
Since the incident, however, Jade had been a dream to have around. Not to fall short again, he had done a fair amount of research, both on the biological aspect of what was happening to your body but also on the lived experience and its numerous complications. Then, doing what he did best, he observed your reactions, moods and symptoms to better cater to you specifically.
Every month he put both his cooking and alchemy skills to good use, whipping up whatever meal you desired and brewing a painkilling potion with just the right dosage for your current situation. Being Jade Leech, he could also assert his presence in any given situation with as little as a simple glare if you did not want to be bothered.
Your favourite part of the comfortable rhythm you two had fallen in, however, were the evenings where Grim was otherwise engaged and you had Ramshackle to yourselves. On those nights, soft music and fond laughter would mix with hushed whispers spilling from under your bathroom door.
A few months prior, Azul and Jade had sat down for a ‘pleasant chat’ with the Headmaster concerning the state of Ramshackle dorm and soon thereafter, funding had been provided to remodel vital parts of the dorm. No more caved-in roofs or stairs giving away under people’s shoes. Together with the money from the VDC, the old house had finally started feeling like an actual home; one you felt welcome and comfortable in.
It also meant you finally trusted your new bathtub enough to sit in it and actually also relax without any anxieties of whatever you could possibly contract from the exposure. 
With his natural fondness of water, it hadn’t taken long for Jade to propose the idea of shared baths and you hadn’t regretted your decision to agree since. It wasn’t like he gave you any reason to either; it was the opposite, really. It didn’t take the moray long at all to figure out the perfect temperature or what fragrance you preferred, if any. 
He also never made you feel inadequate or like you had to be ashamed of yourself, even when your body went through change throughout your cycle. Your skin tingled from his featherlight touches where his fingers traced your curves, never hiding the fact that he appreciated what he saw but always pairing it with a reverence that made you feel loved and desired, rather than ogled at. So when you sank into the water after him, cosying into his space to lean back against his chest, it was like sinking into a warm, secure embrace.
The water helped soothe your aches and washed away the tension which had built over the day and the easily flowing conversation with Jade let you focus on anything other than the thoughts in your mind, listening to his rich voice rather than the doubts trying to crawl to the surface.
When his hands massaged the shampoo into your hair, you always teetered on the edge of falling asleep right then and there. The atmosphere paired with his skilled fingers applying just the right amount of pressure as his nails gently scraped over your scalp banished any headaches you could have had and had you practically melting against him, a sight that tugged on his heartstrings more than it should have. But to see you put so much trust in him, someone who wasn’t exactly known for his benevolence, it stirred something fond in his heart and it made him want to work harder so you would keep showing him this blissful expression.
After scrubbing your bodies down, paying special attention to any sore spots, he helped you out of the tub, never failing to comment on how wrinkly your hands had gotten in comparison to his, which didn’t seem to be affected by the water exposure at all. Wrapping you up in a fluffy black towel he claimed was from Octavinelle -though you were fairly certain you’d only ever seen pale lilac ones there- he padded you dry and helped you into your clothes, mindful of the routines and products you had shown him previously. 
Needless to say, you felt like a new person each time without fail as you lay snuggled up with your boyfriend in bed later on, listening to his breathing and the steady beating of his heart. 
“Thank you so much for always doing this much for me, Jade,” you said, earnest gratitude and unspoken adoration lining your voice. “I’m really lucky to be with you, huh?”
“On the contrary, I am the one luck seems to favour seeing how you chose to be with me,” he chuckled and you didn’t miss how his strong arms pulled you closer against him even if it wasn’t physically possible. He’d be damned if he didn’t try. “And you needn’t feel conflicted about receiving my affection. Just know I enjoy doing these things for you and with you, pearl.” 
“I stand by my earlier statement,” you smiled, making him laugh along with you. Looking into his heterochromic eyes, you traced the contours of his face with the same delicacy he showed you earlier. “Is it selfish to say that I feel happy about having this side of you all to myself?”
“Not at all. It is reserved for you only, dearest.” His gaze was heavy on yours as he loosely curled his fingers around your wrist and pressed a searing kiss against your palm. “After all, I do not intend to share this side of you with anyone else either.”
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𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐋 𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑
There have certainly been times where Jamil lamented having to basically babysit his dorm leader. Well, pretty much all the time. But being unable to stay by your side while you were hurting was generally one of the most annoying parts of his duties to him, especially with the daily workload of being a student on top of it all. 
Jamil being Jamil, however, he soon worked out a schedule consistent enough to let him visit you somewhat frequently. 
You were lying on one of Ramshackle’s rickety couches, nursing your lower stomach with a -at this point already lukewarm- water bottle, when a familiar knocking pattern brought a smile to your face.
“Come in! It’s open,” you shouted across the hall, adding your sarcastic comment under your breath in order not to worry your boyfriend more than he already was. “Not like the lock’s ever doing its job in this place.”
“Hm? Did you say something?” Jamil made his way straight over to where you were sitting, his footsteps quieting down as he reached the carpeted floor.
“No,” you shook your head, smiling up at him as he leant over the back of the couch. Ignoring his raised eyebrow, you reached up, so you could cradle his cheek as you sat up to meet him for a sweet kiss. “I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.” Seemingly appeased, your boyfriend mirrored your fond expression, tracing your face with his grey gaze while his hands moved to your shoulders, deft fingers working out any tension you might be having. “How are you feeling?”
“A lot better now that you’re here,” you laughed, though it wasn’t merely a sappy joke, as indicated by Jamil’s scoff behind you. “I mean it though. I’ve been feeling a lot better since I’ve been receiving your royal treatment.”
“It’s nothing that fancy,” Jamil assured, his eyes softening at the way you melted into his touch. “I’m just trying to take care of you.”
“I know you don’t think much of it but I really appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to look after me when I’m not even facing anything out of the ordinary,” you sighed, rehashing points you had raised in vain before.
“Oh hush,” your boyfriend playfully shushed you the way he had also done many times already when the topic came up. “Compared to what I usually deal with, this is like taking a vacation, especially since I get to spend time with you. Now speaking of my normal chores, I brought some leftover food.”
“Have I told you that I love you?” You swooned, causing both of you to laugh as Jamil headed over to your kitchen, one he was already familiar with. Not only because he often came over for some much needed peace and quiet but because Kalim was literally the reason you had it in the first place. A relationship-warming-gift of sorts for a relationship that wasn’t even his.
Besides, ever since courting and dating you, Jamil’s measuring skills when it came to meal prep seemed to have worsened because -coincidentally- he’d ended up with too much food and subsequent leftovers so often, you wondered why you even stocked your own fridge anymore.
What you had also noticed though was that, whenever you were on your period -something he seemed to track himself-, the food he brought over was a lot less spicy than usual and rather light. Something someone prone to a sensitive stomach, nausea, reduced appetite or a disturbed metabolism could still comfortably eat. 
The phenomenon of suddenly appearing sticky notes had also made itself known, labelling new containers in your fridge, medication on the counter or your coffee machine with reminders like ‘Remember caffeine makes your cramps worse’ written on it in neat handwriting. 
One or the other bar of dark chocolate and some of your favourite snacks had mysteriously found their way into your bags or onto a bowl in your kitchen as well though, making you smile at Jamil’s thoughtfulness when you caught a peek of them. 
During the day, whenever his schedule allowed it, he’d also drop by to check in on you between classes or during lunch, something Kalim wholeheartedly supported. Normally, Jamil refused all of Kalim’s offers to take a break from his duty but when you were feeling under the weather, he took the white-haired student up on it when no imminent disaster was on the horizon waiting to happen.
When your plate was empty and made its trip to the sink, Jamil refilled your hot water bottle but unlike you earlier, he waved his magic pen over it, which you had realised significantly expanded the time in which the water actually stayed hot.
“Thank you,” you said for possibly the millionth time as you took the bottle from him, then gave him a mischievous grin. “You know what would make me feel soo much better though?”
At the tilt of his head, you scooted over to make space between you and the back of the couch. Getting the hint, Jamil settled in behind you and you got comfy again with your back to his chest. This too had become somewhat of a ritual of yours, one that wasn’t limited to while you were suffering from cramps. 
After all the chore-y part of the late afternoon was taken care of, you liked to spend the evening snuggled up on your couch with the TV playing some show you liked to watch together, read: a show which you started and dragged Jamil into. Well, every now and then your boyfriend also made sure you didn’t fall behind on your studies, though he was more lenient when you were on your period.
“This is nice,” you mumbled, your eyelids heavy now that you had eaten and were surrounded by warmth and your loving boyfriend, whose hands stroked along your sides in a soothing, continuous motion, his chest vibrating underneath you with his affirming hum. 
“I could stay like that forever,” he agreed.
“Well I certainly wouldn’t mind.”
“I’m sure you wouldn’t.” The smile in his voice was auditory even if you couldn’t see his gorgeous face. You could, however, feel his soft lips on the crown of your head and his breath fanning over it and you reached to intertwine one of your hands with his before a yawn you couldn’t suppress any longer filled the air. “You should get some rest, I’m sure you’re tired.”
“But I wanna stay with you longer,” you protested, sleep clouding your tone. 
“Don’t worry, I will be here when you wake up,” Jamil promised. And with that you drifted off, the warmth from around you settling cosily around your heart. A heart that wasn’t really yours alone anymore.
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