( @thewolveriine ! )
YEAH U FUKCIN DO
says the guy with the awful mutton chops.

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( @thewolveriine ! )
YEAH U FUKCIN DO
says the guy with the awful mutton chops.
「 @thewolveriine hit the ♥ 」
「✗」 — THE X-MEN. He knew all about them, or almost everything. Some things he never paid much attention to. Minor details here and there, but he got the over all gist of it. A team of mutants banding together to save the world from a guy with a fucking METAL OBSESSION. Given he was the internet, it was only natural he be curious about the things people uploaded or posted about. the X-Men seemed to be one of the bigger ones he encountered. Dressed as if he had just come from a drunken rave, the Technical Boy cocked his head at the MUTANT.
“I want to say you’re Cyclops, but that wouldn’t be a good nickname to have if you have shiny KNIVES in your hands.” He drawled with a lazy flick of his wrist. Faces he could remember, names were always a blur unless they were IMPORTANT to him. This mutant wasn’t important.
the bag is placed on the table, the sudden exhort of force creating a JARRING noise. shoulders SLOUCH slightly as he lets out a few harsh exhales from his nostrils. a hand goes up, wiping off the blood from his busted lip. ❛ i’m back. ❜ he announces as if the other noises he’s made haven’t made that clear. he reaches into the bag to take out a few beers and some coffee grounds. he grabs the grounds and heads over to the coffee maker. he hasn’t even had his COFFEE and yet the day has been hellish already. sounds about right, doesn’t it? there's no COMPLAINING, however. he knows he needs to get back to work.
( @thewolveriine ! )
( @thewolveriine ! )
*draws thirty pictures of frank smokin* YOU DONT HAVE LONG NOW
hi police i would like to report murder
@thewolveriine
Death was sitting peacefully in her hotel room. France was always nice this time of year. It was a time where all the tragic lovers would gather but this day would be different.. Lifting the porcelain tea cup to her lips the room shifts. And she stands before him. “Logan. What the fuck! Can you please give me one damn moment to myself!”
💋
SEND💋 FOR A KISS. —— accepting! || @thewolveriine
they were kindred spirits, in the way that they lived, in extremes. Everything that they felt was nothing, but extreme – overt displays of emotions that TERRIFIED those who meet them. But neither Val nor Logan cared particularly much, content that at least they had each other – at least there was one person who understood.
They felt so much &&. suffered so much.
ever since she had entered this sort of life – filled with chaos &&. discord, silence seemed to always be out of reach. A tantalizing promise of Elysium that Val could never grasp; her life ALWAYS muddled by pain, agony, anger, emotions of the ilk. But somehow, somehow, sitting on a bench in Central Park with Logan, amid the bustle of the city life, Valencia found a hard-earned peace. She found peace in Logan’s anger, in Logan’s honesty, in the presence of the other. ENOUGH that she moved, so that their shoulders pressed together – an action that could be perceived as casual, but in reality, spoke volumes. ( ‘You. I trust you. Don’t let me down.’ )
the way a rough smile quirks frowning lips, the expression seemingly foreign on Logan’s lips told her his answer. I got your back, I would rather die than hurt you. &&. that was enough for her. She inhales slightly, long-since used to the acrid scent of exhaust in the air; something UNDENIABLY New York before relaxing – the tension bleeding from her shoulders.
she was content on sitting there in silence, soaking in the quiet before Logan speaks up. “Wanna head out of this place? I know a place.” Val looks over, blinking slightly before the corner of her mouth curls, nodding.
“Sure. Better be good.”
&&. it was. Being taken to an ice-cream shop, in a secluded place, Logan pulling out a wad of crumpled bills &&. treating her to some ice-cream – the woman scantly able to conceal her delight at the sudden treat. It was nice, having this sense of normalcy. Like she could pretend that she didn’t risk her life on a daily basis. Or that Logan didn’t risk his life on a daily basis. Val was the best sort of liar to herself.
after they long finished their ice-cream and began to walk, Val gesticulating wildly &&. telling stories about her fellow detectives at her precinct – ONLY to stop when Logan leans down to kiss her, sticky sweet lips pressing against her own in a TENDER gesture that paradoxes the mutant’s entire countenance. He curls a hand under her chin, an anchor to ground the both of them, while she STANDS THERE in confusion. Val makes a little noise of disbelief. Logan, kissing her here on the sidewalk near her apartment. Logan, kissing her at all.
logan must have read it wrong. He pulled back, corner of his mouth quirking in the smile he wore when he was unsure what to feel. Who knew in the time that they knew each other; that the quirk of Logan’s mouth made Val’s heart ache. Logan shrugs, “sorry.” It’s flippant &&. lighthearted. Val’s lips tingled &&. she feels as though she’s on the cusp of something bigger than herself. “You just...” The man shrugs again, making a vague gesture.
val’s still shocked, eyes wide before she shakes her head, cheeks turning pink and voice stolen. “Logan.” Is all she manages, reaching up to slide her hand up to cup his cheek. Her thumbs strokes beneath his eyes, as she pulls him down once again. Pressing their lips together, caste and light. Non-obtrusive and affectionate, brimming with an emotion she couldn’t DARE identify. She tilts her head, eyes fluttering shut -- supernovas bursting within her chest.
the detective pulls back, butterflies in her stomach &&. presses her forehead against his chest. “I’m not sorry.”