#it forms a sort of trilogy

[kindaeccentric]

The subject of the painting is Gauguin's 13-year-old native "wife" Teha'amana (called Tehura in his letters), who one night, according to Gauguin, was lying in fear when he arrived home late: "immobile, naked, lying face downward flat on the bed with the eyes inordinately large with fear [...] Might she not with my frightened face take me for one of the demons and specters, one of the Tupapaus, with which the legends of her race people sleepless nights?" Gauguin was suffering from advanced venereal disease when he came to Tahiti, and he passed it onto Teha'amana, who was his first sexual partner on the island.

'The Adoration of the Shepherds With a Donor.' Palma Vecchio. A contemporary of my maker, Marius De Romanus, also a fine painter, albeit one of lesser skill. In fact, the donor in the title was my maker. The canvas painted in my maker's studio. And in this case, the donation was…What is the modern word for it? In kind. This is Amadeo.

He's 20 years here. He was rescued from a brothel when he was 15, named… named Arun then, I think. I cannot be sure. The abuse in the brothel was such that he cannot be sure that's what his… parents named him. Arun. The parents that sent him to work on a merchant boat in Delhi when in actuality they had sold him…into slavery to the ship's captain. All… fragments. Shackled on the boat. The brothel. My maker's purchase. His renaming me.

His reluctance to share the Dark Gift, knowing what it would do to his beloved Amadeo. I served him with all my heart. Basked in his mercy, his worshipful mercy. Still… Amadeo had a skill. And if a friend wandered into town, I was occasionally… donated.

Meatier in the forearms, but then this was… seven years before I was stricken with illness, before I was turned, and imbued with my powers.

---

don't mind me, I'm just thinking aloud about art as a form of colonial violence when artists take part in the sexual exploitation of underage people of color, name changing, orientalism, monstrosity, and blood+sex-transmittable diseases in the context of Armand

[sendmebacktonowhere]

something something rescue mission to kamino in the early days of the empire, led by clones, aided by freedom fighters who have never even seen an ocean.

(I dont write often so bear with me)

imagine going into the jaws of a place so cold, so suffocating, whether it be from the rigid structure inside or the raging seas below. this horror is unknown to you, yet your comrades have never known another place as "home". coping with your own fear alongside the creeping horror of bearing witness to just what exactly your new allies, your former troops, your new brethren, were forced to endure. gaining a new sense of admiration for them, and shame for yourself. knowing that no matter how necessary their presence is for this mission, no matter how important it is to reunite with their brothers and sister- it's not fair. it's not fair that they must face their makers again.

imagine returning to your home. or rather, your birthplace. you've been gone long enough to realize there were too many tests, too many... unyielding protocols for it to be a real home. the storms are so familiar. the surveillance, and your response to it, is so nauseatingly familiar. somehow, the danger never truly set into your guts until you returned, perhaps because your new allies are there to point it out. allies who are so very new, former civilians much more fragile than you could have ever dared to be. you wonder if they'll ever truly feel like brethren the way your trapped siblings do. you wonder how many of your makers you'll have to throw to the sea. you wonder if the storms on other planets will feel as suffocating as the ones here. everything born of kamino was born to die. it was never fair.

[readwritealldayallnight]

(part of the Wife at First Sight series)

In Ghost’s eyes, the first time you smiled up at him was the moment you became his and his alone.

So what if everyone apart from you knew it?

Didn’t make it any less of a fact, as far as he was concerned.

Still though, he wanted to learn more about just who his pretty little wife was, including anything that might make letting you know about your marriage a little easier. And so like the good soldier he is, he goes about it as though it were a reconnaissance mission.

He asks you how you take your coffees and teas, holding his breath as he watches you take the first sip of whichever drink he’s made you that day, pride swelling in his chest when you tell him it’s perfect, even better than when you make it.

The first time he’d done so, your eyes widened in surprise when he put his large, gloved hands over yours where they were wrapped around the mug, leaning forward and bringing the rim to his lips where he took a sip for himself, eyes locked with yours. You were unsure of what to think or say, but he apparently decided for you that this was okay, returning the warm drink to your mouth where he encouraged you to take another sip.

You figured that it was alright, he did make the tea for you after all, right?

You even laughed when he started only serving you in a mug with ‘Mrs.’ printed across the side, certain that it hadn’t been in any of the common room’s cupboards before.

He eyes the book peeking out of your bag one morning as you tuck it away, purchasing his own copy the very same day, curious to know what you like reading. You’re pleasantly surprised, if not a tad confused, when you find the next two books in the trilogy sat atop your desk soon after, a small note written in chicken scratch lain on top reads ‘To : Wife’. He’ll make a point of commenting on the novel if he sees you holding it, slipping in tid bits of information to impress you show he’s read it as well, likes the same things you like.

He’ll joke about how the food on the dining hall is always subpar, trying to casually find out what you like eating, subtly pulling out his phone and typing anything new into his notes app where he’s been keeping track of all your likes and dislikes. He just wants to get things right with you, be good for you, prove he can be the husband you need. You’re already perfect in his eyes, his sweet little soulmate who just doesn’t know it yet.

Though this was the first military base you’d ever worked on, you couldn’t recall anyone having ever warned you about the way Lieutenants apparently like to haze the new hires, never mind the fact that everyone else was apparently in on it.

No one bats an eye when you go to take the empty seat next to him in a briefing, and he wraps his strong arms around you to instead plop you down onto his muscular thighs, carrying on with the task at hand as though this is perfectly normal and professional. Even the Captain hardly glances at the interaction, so you figure it’s okay, some strange form of team bonding?

Not a soul comments on the way the Lieutenant insists on being the one to cut up your food and feed you bites during meals in the dining hall, pretending as though they don’t hear him telling you about how “my wife works hard enough, don’t need to be liftin’ a finger wit’ me around, love.”

They know to move out of the way if you’re approaching a closed door, knowing if the Lieutenant is anywhere near, he’ll be rushing to open the door for you before you can even attempt to do it yourself.

Even Soap has stopped complaining aloud and only rolls his eyes when Ghost drops anything and everything he’s doing- whether it’s spotting the Sergeant in the gym, being out on a morning run, hell even being in the middle of a shower- to send you a good morning text at six o clock on the dot. Every. Single. Morning.

No, you never exactly anticipated this sort of a running gag from a hardened military base, but you’re not exactly complaining either.

Not when you find your heart fluttering every time your fake work husband dotes on you like he really would marry you at the drop of a hat.

Besides, it’s all just playful, innocent fun, right?

Especially when everyone begins to apparently forget your name and instead refers to you only as Mrs Riley.

And when the Captain tells you that your requested time off for a honeymoon has been approved, something which you definitely don’t remember requesting, well that’s all just fun too, right?

[rbrownillustration]

The Three Hunters ©️ Ruth Brown 2025

I “redesigned” the trio after rereading and rewatching the trilogy and was inspired to mesh a bit of their movie forms, book descriptions, and my own flair on their designs. I think it turned out pretty fun!

I love when Legolas adds some leather pauldrons to his fit at the battle of Helm’s Deep so I incorporated that silhouette into this new design, while leaning a bit more into a woodsy “fey” idea.

Aragorn is largely similar to the movies but physically resembles how I imagined his book descriptions, a tall, dark, and strong man akin to how most Gondorians are described, especially Boromir.

I wanted to embellish Gimli a bit more to call back to his origins from the Lonely Mountain after its reclamation and the abundance of wealth that would have been dispersed through the Hobbit’s company of dwarves and their families. I love his weapons in the movies though so the sort of cut out style is only a bit altered (and more poorly executed) in my design.

[cruel-as-sin]

and you deserve it | logan howlett

↳ summary: you have a stack of paperwork to get done by tomorrow morning... but your boyfriend has other ideas

word count: 2.3k

song: earned it | the weeknd

pairings: trilogy!logan x fem!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn w/ light plot, oral (f! receiving), hickeys, LOTS of teasing, established relationship, MASSIVE praise kink, logan is a tease just bc he can be, scott summers mentioned, hints of possessiveness and jealousy from logan, pet names for reader (baby, sweetheart, darlin', good girl, atta girl), no use of y/n, unidentified mountains of paperwork that reader has to complete (i don't care if it's realistic, let me live!), aftercare, logan is a sweetie (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: so um. here's this, bc teasing!logan has me melting into a puddle. inspired partly by me envisioning logan doing this to me, partly by my own past experiences, and partly by conversations with @lostinlovingrevery, enjoy!

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan eyes you from the doorway, his gaze lingering on your focused expression before trailing down the rest of your form. You're exhausted, that much is clear, but the stack of papers before you doesn't indicate that you plan on resting anytime soon.

He'd bet Summers is to blame for this.

If that happens to be the case, and if you're also so intent on finishing this paperwork by Scott's deadline, as he's sure you are, then... he's got no choice to convince you otherwise, right?

And if he can't do that, he might as well have a little fun.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You feel like you've been at this for hours. Actually, glancing at the time, you probably have. You didn't mean to leave all your paperwork until the last minute, but things just sort of happened; and now, here you are, the words on the page starting to blur before you, your eyes heavy, your body aching.

You hear the click of the bedroom door closing, feeling Logan's hands on your shoulders a moment later. "Still at it, huh?"

You hum in acknowledgement, leaning back into his touch as he begins to massage your muscles, the tension in your body slowly ebbing away.

"You should take a break, baby." He continues to work at the knots in your shoulders, a soft groan escaping you as his strong hands make you melt into the back of your seat. "Finish this in the morning."

You shake your head. Scott will lay into you if you don't get this done- that's a lesson you had to learn the hard way. "Can't. You know how early Scott wants this."

He grunts in disapproval the moment Scott's name leaves your lips, leaning down to press his mouth to your ear. "That's a shame." His voice drops to a low tone that only means trouble, his hands moving to the hem of your shirt, playing with the fabric. "I had some other ideas, but I guess that'll have to wait."

You should do the responsible thing and agree with him, tell him that yes, he will have to wait, because you do really need to get this done.

But the way his breath hits your ear, the feeling of his hands brushing against your bare skin, and the dreadful thought of spending the rest of your night doing paperwork instead of in bed with Logan all have you reconsidering.

You cast a glance in his direction, then back at the remaining stack of paperwork before you. Finishing the rest of it in the morning couldn't hurt, right? If you managed to get up early...

"Well," You begin, your tone sultry as you turn around in your seat to face him. "I suppose just this once I could make an exception." You lean in to kiss him, but find a confused expression forming across your face when he stops you.

“Uh-uh." He shakes his head, pulling away just enough to stay out of your reach. "You got work to do." Still, his hands remain on your shoulders, toying with the straps of your bra.

It hits you, then, what he's doing. Why he has that stupid little smirk on his face that signals he's got you backed into some sort of corner, laying out a trap for you, a scenario in which he knows you're inevitably gonna give in.

"Lo," You immediately whine in protest. "That's not fair."

“Never said I was being fair, sweetheart." He stares you down with that same damn smirk still on his face, his hands tracing small circles on the bare skin of your collarbone. "Go on." He tilts his head toward your desk, an order you don't dare to refuse.

For a moment, you think maybe he'll go easy on you. That he just needs to have his hands on you somehow, and that he'll let you finish this paperwork without any more distractions. So you turn around in your seat, picking up your pen once more. The moment your eyes land on the sheet in front of you, though, Logan's breath hits the back of your neck. His hands move lower, dipping just beneath your shirt, featherlight touches along the edges of your bra.

Of course he isn't making this easy.

"Logan." You try to take on a sterner tone with him, but it devolves into a moan as he begins to press kisses along your neck.

He chuckles sinfully, only continuing to kiss and suck at your skin. "C'mon, sweetheart. The sooner you get this done, the sooner you can come to bed."

Evil. That's the word that comes to your mind to describe him right now- pure fucking evil.

And you kind of love it.

With a huff, you try to focus on the papers again, muttering under your breath. "It would be a lot easier if you'd stop distracting me-" You're cut off by Logan nipping at your pulse point, and you have to force yourself not to whimper at the way his teeth drag across your skin. You know he's going to leave a mark, something you've scolded him for countless times, but right now you can't bring yourself to care.

Even though you can't see his face anymore, you can hear that stupid smirk in his voice. "Less talking, more working."

You grumble to yourself, stubbornly silent as one of his hands moves down your back. You try to hide the way your breath catches in your throat at the warmth of his touch and the placement of his kisses, or the teasing words he whispers in your ear. "You said it yourself, you gotta get this paperwork done." His hand moves down to your hips, your waist, then to your inner thigh. You're pretty sure you're fucking buzzing with energy by this point, but you keep it together, eyes narrowed on your paperwork, fingers curled tightly around your pen.

Then he really goes in for it, tracing his hand up and down your inner thigh, the other slipping to the edge of your shirt, acting like he's going to dip beneath the fabric, but never going so far as to give you a semblance of what you want. Noticing the effect he's having on you, the way your heartbeat speeds up and the arousal dripping from your core, his tone becomes more cocky. "You don't wanna disappoint Scott, do you?"

Gods, he never could stop having a made-up rivalry with that man, could he? "I don't care what Scott thinks." You say between unsteady breaths, trying to make your voice sound more confident than it should be. It's a lie- well, not really, because at this point you really don't care what Scott thinks, you just want Logan to fuck you.

He has the nerve to scoff. "Well if that was the case, we wouldn't be here, sweetheart." He taps your thigh, a silent command for you to keep going, but like the bastard he is, he feels the need to verbally remind you. "Chop chop. Don’t need Summers bitching at you tomorrow."

You manage to keep going, trying your hardest not to get distracted by Logan's touch, his lips, his hands, his breath against your skin, the words he continues to whisper, the little huffs of amusement you occasionally hear when he gets a particularly good reaction from you. His hand dips just below your shirt, brushing against your stomach, and you feel like a medieval virgin with how much wetter that simple act makes you.

The stack in front of you is dwindling, and you might finally be nearing salvation- but Logan, of course, has other ideas. When he sees that you only have a couple of papers left, he gets bolder. Hands roaming under your shirt, rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, grinning at the moan he gets out of you.

You unconsciously start rolling your hips, desperate for any sort of friction, any form of relief to the ache building itself in your core. But Logan notices, one of his hands wrapping around your hips and pulling you back against the chair. You squirm in his grasp, but his hold is firm- you can't move a muscle, not the way you want. "One more, darlin'." He whispers in your ear. "You can do it, I know you can." The hand wrapped around your midsection moves lower, placing light pressure against your clothed slit, and you swear you're going to kill him tomorrow. "You wanna be good for me, don't you?"

Motherfucker.

You grip the pen tighter in your hand, squinting at the words on the final piece of paper in front of you, the empty spaces laughing in your face. His hand stays there, the pressure just enough to drive you insane. His other hand keeps playing with your nipples while his mouth moves down to your back, a trail of kisses placed along it before he begins to suck another mark into the skin of your collarbone. He moves the hand against your core, just slightly, pressing down a little harder when you're halfway through the page. But you don't let him get to you, you can't let him win.

With shaky hands and impressive strength of will, you finally finish the last paper, setting it atop the stack of other finished forms, a testament to your unwavering commitment. "There. I'm done."

"Good job, sweetheart." Logan purrs in your ear. You close your eyes, leaning back into his touch- but then he withdraws his hands from you. The loss of contact makes your head spin, and you scramble to your feet as he starts to back away.

"What are you doing?" Your tone is half-angry, half-panicked, a mixture of words that comes out rushed and stumbled-over.

"Going to bed." His tone is casual, completely unbothered, the polar opposite of you- cheeks flushed, breaths heavy, a pleading look in your eyes. "You gotta get up early tomorrow morning, right? To give that paperwork to Scott."

For a moment, you're crushed by disappointment. He can't really mean that, can he? Then you catch that stupid smirk on his face again, and frustration builds within you, your pent up energy needing some sort of outlet. "Logan Howlett, if you don't get your ass over here and make me cum right now-"

He laughs, the sound lighting up the room, before he steps back towards you. "I'm just messin' with you, baby." He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him, strong arms bare for you to admire, wifebeater clinging tightly to his chest. Quickly, your anger subsides, his touch too magical for you to resist. "You did so good for me." He murmurs in your ear. "I think you earned a reward, yeah?"

You nod, the circles he's making on your waist making you feel dizzy, but he clicks his tongue. "Ah-ah-ah, none of that silent treatment shit. You got nothin' else to pay attention to now, so I want words."

You swallow, forcing yourself to be some level of coherent. "Yes. I- I want a reward." When that doesn't seem to satisfy him, your tone becomes more confident. "I earned a reward."

"There we go, atta girl." He leans in to give you a kiss, a brief moment that turns into something more as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer. His tongue dips into your mouth, mingling with yours, and he groans at the feeling.

He pulls your shirt over your head, unclasping your bra and massaging your breasts between kisses. You tilt your head back as his mouth trails down your neck, your collarbone, and then to your breasts, swirling his tongue around your nipple. “You did such a good job, baby.” He murmurs, his hands and mouth alternating between your tits, the pleasing sensation only adding to the unbearable heat between your thighs. "You always work so hard, gettin' things done for everyone."

He's right. You do work hard. And by the way he's lifting you up and setting you on the bed, he intends on appreciating it.

He pulls down your pants, then your panties, tossing them to the side as he positions himself between your spread legs, admiring your glistening center. "So pretty." He mumbles, leaning in to lick up your arousal.

His tongue is like fire against you, the heat he brings forth a raging inferno that grows and grows, a culmination of god knows how many minutes of torture. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging him in deeper, and the moan he lets out reverberates throughout your body.

After a particularly loud moan leaves your lips, he pulls away to glance up at you. “Yeah, you feel better now, huh?” He chuckles, a grin lingering on his face as you pull his head back down to your pussy.

His tongue laps at you endlessly, and you quickly find yourself approaching your peak. "Oh, god, Logan-" You moan. "Don't stop, please, I'm gonna-"

He pulls away again, just for a moment, his thumb moving to replace his tongue as he spoke to you. "Go on, baby. You've been so good, such a good girl for me." His fingers moved in quick circles around your clit, and you whined as he kept going, faster and faster. "Be a good girl and do one more thing for me, okay? Cum for me, you earned it, c'mon." Then he leans back in and latches onto your clit, and the sensation has you seeing stars as you cum on his tongue. His name echoes throughout the room, your body trembling as pleasure washes over you.

But Logan doesn't stop there. He works three more orgasms out of you with his tongue, only switching to his fingers when he wants to remind you of just how good you're being, how much you deserve a reward, how pretty you look all spread out for him, how much he loves this fuckin' pussy, how much he loves you.

As you come down from your final high, he makes sure to lick you clean, then moves up to languidly kiss you. You moan into his mouth, still in a post orgasmic haze, your eyes heavy from tiredness and bliss. He smiles down at you, brushing some hair out of your face, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"I'm proud of you, sweetheart."

And as he cleans you both up, gets you a snack and some water, changes you both into pjs and tucks you into bed, he repeats those words and more over and over, an unwavering beacon of strength and support. Yours, forever, always.

tags: @flowersforbucky @thinkinonsense @gewrgia-black @wlwloverwrites @buckybarneswife125 @sweetverine @dilfverines @wchswift @namikyento @lokirogersgirl @nymphoniah @logansdoe @robo-writing @atleastpleasetelephone @r0ttedcherubim @logaenhowlett @th3mrskory @pidgeypidge-pidge @lostinlovingrevery @rosenclaws @cenviswasteland @lubdubology @trr3rr @sacredsorceress @howlettsangel @dixie-isnt-cool @blythesarchives

(this is the taglist for my logan howlett one-shots. if anyone would like to be added to or removed from this taglist, or would specifically prefer to only be tagged for f!, m!, or gn! reader, please let me know!)

[howlett-dekarios]

𝚂𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚖𝚘𝚞𝚝𝚑

▏Trilogy!Logan x Reader

▏Summary: You were the perfect student of Scott's. But after you've came back form university, you've changed and Logan can't stand it.

▏Warnings: dom!Logan | virgin!reader | NSFW | MDNI | big breast | | breast play | slight overstimulation | kinda mean!Logan | unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) | spanking | Logan calling reader names | male masturbation |

▏Word count: 3,5k

First days in school were a very weird experience for him. Being around so many kids and a few teens who were genuinely interested in studying here. The place itself being some sort of safe space for them. Truly unusual to watch something from so close, or even being considered a part of. Xavier wasn’t pushing him into anything though, rather giving him time to adjust to the new reality. Logan didn’t really feel like matching the whole vibe. Being a responsible adult, an example for youngsters.

He was called by Charles into his office. What he didn’t expect though was to be bumped into on his way in.

“Of course Professor, it will be done as soon as possible-“ A young woman's voice was stopped when her head hit the hard chest of Howlett. Her gaze quickly rose and was met with his unreadable eyes. “I-I’m so sorry Mister..”

“I’m Logan, kid.” His voice stern. “You should be more careful.”

“Yes, of course, I’m so sorry.” She stuttered. This guy wasn’t giving the nicest aura. Big, grumpy and intimidating with the cigar between his lips. “It’s my fault, I-“

“I’m just kidding, kid.” He gave her a teasing smirk, definitely enjoying how she had been panicking just seconds ago. Logan was a bastard who was well aware of his posture. “Nothing happened.”

“Sure..” Her red cheeks made him smirk even more. Are all students like this girl? “Goodbye, Professor, have a nice evening. Same for you Mr. Logan.” And with that she left as fast as possible, embarrassed by the whole situation she put herself into.

“Take care, bub.” His attention focused on Charles again. “Are all of them so scared?” The question was rather sarcastic one.

“I prefer the term of well behaved and polite.” The man in the wheelchair smiled and got back to sorting documents that were stuffed on his desk. “Besides Y/n is one of the best students here. Very smart and well raised young woman.”

“Oh is she?”

“I’m quite positive. She was asking me for the recommendation letter for the university she wants to get into.”

“They can do that?” Logan was honestly surprised. He couldn’t really imagine graduating from such school and being accepted in a ‘normal’ world later.

“It’s not so common unfortunately. Most students prefer staying here and becoming teachers like Jean or Scott. That or move out to the countries where the knowledge about mutant kind is less advanced.”

“They’re running away from reality-“

“Seems familiar?” Charles gave him that knowing look which other mutant already hated from the first day here. Older professor was actually one of the few people who had the ability not to take offense and even mouth back. Old ‘I know everything’ bastard.  “But I didn’t call you here to talk about Y/n performance in studies. You made your decision, Logan?”

Howlett wasn’t dumb, well knowing about what exactly this question was. Him staying in the mansion. If he was ready to fit into school reality. To deal with kids, or worse, with Scott. But what choice did he really have in that matter? It was that or coming back to the shadows. To live from paycheck to paycheck, getting any non-attachment job, vanishing as soon as someone realized who he truly was. And here? As much as Logan hated to admit it, it started to feel like home. Being accepted, doing whatever he wanted without needing to think about being discovered. A stabilization he never thought he really needed.

There was one more thing. He was in debt to Charles. For all the help the old man provided him with getting back the memories. For making it possible to puzzle all his life together. Such sort of debt wasn’t something a man can forget just like that. Or at least Logan couldn’t.

“I’m gonna stick around. No teaching though.” Not yet at least. He wasn’t ready for such responsibility.

“A babysitter then?” Xavier laughed, which only made the other man roll his eyes.

“I can train older ones.” Make himself useful by the skills he has. Not much but could be good to start.

“Very well, so be it Logan.”

And that’s how he officially became part of the life of the mansion.

For the next month Logan hasn’t gotten a lot of occasions to cross his way with Y/n. She was too focused on her studies and getting ready for the university life she planned for herself, and he definitely wasn’t the type to beg her to move her ass and join the training with the rest of teens. He really couldn’t point out why every other member of the team was so fascinated about that girl. Sure, she was nice, kind and smart, but that wasn’t making her anyone special in his mind.

That’s how on her last day in the mansion Logan was indifferent towards her. When Scott and Storm were all teary, hugging her and wishing luck, he stayed aside, watching it from the far corner of the room.

“Mr.Logan-“ Her face made it clear she didn’t know what to say after that.

“Just Logan, bub. You’re a grown up so act as one.” Maybe a bit too rude, judging by Jean killing gaze he felt on himself. “Just do your best there and don’t let anyone boss you around. If all I heard about you from Charles is true, then I’m sure you’ll do just fine.”

“Thank you.. Logan.”

“Y/n we need to go, you’ll be late for the tour around campus.” Scott called her after packing everything in the truck.

“I’m coming.” She smiled at Logan one last time. “Sorry for not attending your classes.”

“Yeah, whatever, it was your choice.” He shrugged, patting her arm. “Just don’t bump into anything on your first day there.”

“I won’t-“

“Y/n!”

“Coming!”

And just like that she was gone, starting a new chapter.

It was quite funny how history repeated itself.

After five years and graduating from the university she was once again at home. Talking with Professor about wanting to come back. To help both the school, since she had a degree in psychology so she could help students to understand their emotions, but also to fulfill her responsibilities as a mutant. Charles has always been saying how her mutation was so unique and how much it could serve for goodness.

In those few years she understood where she should be. Who she should be helping. As a successful psychologist it would be so easy to just open her own practice and make good money, but deep down Y/n got the feeling that it wasn’t what would make her happy. Being surrounded by normal people, hearing all the hideous things they’ve been saying about her kind.. it just made it more clear. It wasn’t her world. She wasn’t welcomed in it. She never should’ve left the mansion.

She was so stuck in her own mind that she didn’t notice the body in front of her. Not until her nose sunk deep into someone’s white wifebeater.

“Fuck, I’m sorry, I-“

“Old habits die hard, huh?” Deep voice made her realize who exactly she bumped into. Again.

At this point Y/n was sure that the universe is just playing its most hilarious pranks on her.

At first Logan didn’t recognize her.

Those five years changed her entirely. From a nineteen girl who he had only seen with her nose in the books, to a fully grown woman.

Fuck, a very attractive one too.

The upper messy bun, the white shirt and dark shorts which left very little to the imagination.. If the concept of glow up was real, then it sure as hell could be used in her case. He really needed to double check if it was actually her.

“Logan.”

“Y/n.”

They’ve been looking at each other and if not for Charles, it quickly could’ve been awkward.

“Good to see you here Logan, I’ve been looking for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Man in a wheelchair smiled and pointed at his student. “Y/n decided to join the team. But she will need a little bit of training before she can go for the missions. I believe your teaching skills could be useful for us.”

“And how do I know she won’t bail it all like the last time?”

“I’ve changed.”

“Yeah, I can see it.” Quite literally. One was sure, if Scott could see his thoughts right now, he would probably beat his ass because none of them were appropriate. “Fuck, alright.”

“Excellent. Welcome back Y/n.”

Next weeks were true torture. Watching her in clothes that wrapped her body tightly. All sweaty and with a face that showed true motivation to win against him. One thing he learned about Y/n was how university indeed changed her. From a polite and shy student, to a bratty and confident woman. Testing his patience limits whenever she opened her mouth.

Every night he was coming back to his room, getting in the shower and getting off to the thoughts of her in his bed. Laid down naked, spread all just for his pleasure. Her mouth finally shut up by his dick inside, abusing her throat. Logan wasn’t certain why it all made him so on edge, but something in her just made it impossible for him to focus. The thoughts of her irresistible.

He couldn’t act on it though. She was too young for him. Being the precious girl of Scott and Charles, the brightest and so perfect student of theirs.

But one evening made him lose it all.

“Always having such a fucking smart mouth bub, huh?” He hissed through his teeth, while having a strong grip around her throat. “Never taking my advices-“

“Maybe I would if you wouldn’t have your eyes on my tits all the time.” She mouthed back, using her power to form a dagger and sticking it into his lower stomach. “You’re always so grumpy, why is that? Haven’t put your dick into anything in a long time?” The bluntness of her words took him completely off guard since Logan was sure about hiding it rather well. 

Those few seconds gave her enough time to pin him to the floor, her legs on his chest and another dagger white energy dagger near his throat.

“I won.” Y/n gasped, clearly out of breath. After weeks of sparrings and constant failures she’s finally made it for the first time.

Her being on top of him was enough for Logan tho. In a second he rolled over, strong arms pinning her to the training matt.

“Get the fuck out.” He groaned, looking into her eyes. He wasn’t playing anymore. “We are done.”

There was no way of him working with her ever again. 

For hours Y/n was debating on how to approach Logan. What she should say, how to apologize to him. She took it too far, using some cheap shitty distraction to win. In reality she wasn’t even sure if Howlett had any interest in her, and judging by his reaction it was clear that he took the offense. The accusation of being unprofessional like this.. it was a really low blow.

That’s why she was currently standing in front of his room, knocking and waiting for an opportunity to say sorry.

What she didn’t expect was to be met with him half naked, wearing some sweats and having wet hair.

“I-I’m.. listen Logan, I’m sorry about what I’ve said-“

He didn’t give her a chance. Instead his big hands grabbed her waist, dragged into his room and pinned to the other side of the closed door.

“Oh, really, princess?” He fumed, his eyes focused on her face like he was really looking for any sign of doubt, not really in a mood to be played over again. 

“L-Logan I’m really sorry-“

“You should be, bub. Using my weakness, like it wasn’t you who have been wearing these tight pants and bras of yours.”

“W-what-“

“Everyone thinks you’re so smart but I see that you don’t have basic instincts, huh? Teasing me every damn time, like you don’t want me to fuck you dumb, and then having the audacity to just spit it in my face.”

“I swear I didn’t-“

“Is that so? Then why can I smell you know, Y/n?”

Fuck.

Fuck.

Fuck his heightened senses. The second he grabbed her she started getting wet, squeezing her legs just to provide any sort of pressure. 

“Logan-“

“I asked you a question, bub.” The threatening tone near her ear made a shiver run down her spine. “But let me ask again. Do you like it Y/n?”

Truth be told, the time she spent with Logan made her realize how handsome the guy was. Strong and cut muscles, the height, and now the chest hair and happy trail going down under the waistband.

“My eyes are here, princess.” He chuckled seeing her struggle.

“Y-yes.” If before she was out of breath, then now it was literally no existent.

“Good.”

And just like his eyes landed on hers. Swallowing her flavor. Devouring any place he could. Quickly the kisses lower to her neck, leaving the trails of his spit and teeth on it. Bruising it like it was his job to do so. 

“Logan!” Her moans were a pure symphony for his ears.

“Legs.” The simple order made her obey, wrapping her legs around his waist like it has always been their place. “Good girl.”

It didn’t take him long to make her a moaning mess. Dropping her on the bed and undressing, leaving her fully naked just as in his scenarios.

“Fuck, I’ve been thinking about it for too damn long. Always wearing those tops that are fucking too little and cute for your slutty tits. I imagine guys on campus enjoyed them.” Her nipples were being abused just like the neck before. “But they’re mine now, you get it, bub?”

“Yes, yes, please.” She cried, trying to cover her eyes, both from pleasure and embarrassment.

“Ah, ah, ah, none of this. You can’t act all shy on me now when you’ve been such a bratty bitch all the time, baby.” Logan grabbed her hand and pinned them together above her head, not making it possible for her to do anything else than just take what he was giving. After he was satisfied with his work on the upper parts of her body, he took his pants off and smirked at her reaction. Logan was quite aware of his size being above any normal human, so it wasn’t any surprise. “Never had anything like that, huh? None of your little college boys gave you something like that? But don’t worry, princess, I’ll make sure it fits.”

But before he could enter her, she stopped him, putting her hand on his chest.

“Logan, wait!” Seeing his confused face, she whispered the thing he couldn’t believe was real. “I-I’ve never done it..”

“Come again?” But her reaction to his question ensured him that what he just heard was true. “You are a virgin?”

She nodded, not being able to look into his eyes.  

“Y/n look at me.” She shook her head, afraid of him being mad at her. “I said look at me, bub.” Logan gently grabbed her chin and forced her to face him. “It’s okay. It’s fine, you don’t need to be ashamed. Fuck, you’ve been so confident in your words back there that I thought.. but it doesn’t matter. It’s all good, I’ll be gentle. Just tell me if anything will be wrong, okay?” When she nodded one again, he smirked. “Words Y/n. You have such a smart mouth then use it now.”

“Okay.”

That’s when his member slowly entered her. Inch by inch, Logan was checking on her if everything was fine. The little pain expressions were a natural reaction considering his size, so he was soothing her legs, calming her down by praising how well she was doing.

“So fucking good for me, baby, so tight and warm.”

At first Logan wanted to give her some time to adjust but instead the girl told him to move.

“I want it, Logan.”

And who was he to deny her?

His pace was too slow for his liking, but her comfort was in first place.

“Faster, please.” She moaned, not being able to stand his gentle trust. “I’m not made of glass.”

Oh, she really shouldn’t have said that.

“As you wish.”

Logan grabbed her legs and turned her around, making her stand on all four. Pounding into her relentlessly, like his life depended on it. One hand grabbed both of her, holding them as a lever, making her arch in a way that will never leave his mind. Other went straight to her hanging breasts, squeezing them and overstimulating to her limits.

“Lo! Please, fuck, I’m close.. Lo..”

“I should’ve known that all it takes to finally shut you up is just to fuck you dumb. Such a good pussy for me, keeping herself pure just so I can use it however I want, isn’t it right princess?”

“Yhym, yeah, please, Lo!” Her mind clouded by the overwhelming pleasure.

“Already dumbfounded, how sweet. What would Scott think about you, baby, huh? You think he would be proud of his perfect student to be pistoned like a cheap whore? Just a hole for my pleasure of all the people?”

His fingers traveled from her tits to her clit, making small fast circles which made her legs tremble uncontrollably.

“Logan! I think I’ll-“

“I know, princess, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Give it to me Y/n, milk me so I can know how good your cunt is.” He kept his brutal pace, pounding into her from behind. Feeling how her legs were slowly giving up, Logan freed her hand and slapped her ass, leaving a red mark on it. “Cum on me, baby.”

“Lo! Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

It didn’t take much for him to follow her, reaching his orgasm, painting her walls white with his own cum. The trip to the drugstore for the morning after pill will be the first thing needed in the morning, but for now his mind was focused on something else.

Y/n didn’t take Logan as a type of the good aftercare guy, rather betting on the ‘wham, bam, thank you ma’am’ man. But to her surprise after they both calmed down from their high, he grabbed her waist and cuddled her into his chest.

“You alright?”

“Yes.. shit, it was..”

“I feel the same, princess. You did a very good job.” He smirked, giving her tender pecks full of affection. “I’ll clean you in a second, baby. Also I don’t think you’ll be able to have any sparring tomorrow.”

The teasing comment made her blush, but she knew he was right. It’ll be a miracle if she will be able to walk properly. But it took her a second to realize the true meaning behind his words.

“So… we are cool?”                                                                                                         

It honestly made him smile. But it wasn’t his usual forced grimace. This time that smile was kind, soft and genuine which made her heart melt a little.

“Yes, Y/n. We are cool. Besides, you were right. I was checking your tits all the time.”

They both laughed at that and after a few more seconds in a tight warm embrace, Y/n fell asleep.

Finally after five years of being here, Logan found a good reason why it was worth staying.

BONUS

Their relationship was kept a secret. To Logan it was ridiculous, but Y/n didn’t want Scott to find out, knowing that her former teacher would be furious. He would definitely judge the choices she’s made, especially by choosing Logan of all the guys. So that’s why they’ve been hiding. Stealing private moments, hiding in empty classrooms for quick make out sessions. Sneaking out of each other's rooms in the middle of the night.

But one day, she fucked up.

Charles called the whole for an emergency meeting early in the morning. She was still tired from the entire night intimate session with Logan, that her brain didn’t have any moment to wake up and start working properly. Instead of grabbing her own hoodie, she put on Logan’s which was too big for her.

The whole meeting went smoothly, though she couldn’t understand why Scott was giving her angry glances, at the same time Logan smirking like crazy.

“Nice hoodie, sweetheart.” He finally whispered into her ear, when the gathering was over. The realization hit her instantly like a bullet. 

“I can explain-“ Y/n started.

“Fucking asshole.” Scott only bumped his arm into Logan’s chest on his way out, not wanting to hear it all.

“Well that could be worse.” Another smirk appeared on Howlett’s face.

The next thing she felt was his lips on hers. There was no way he wouldn't use the first occasion to show off his girlfriend. 

▏A/n: Was the first concept writing some sort of teacher's pet fic? Yeah, but then it slightly evolved. Hope you enjoyed it tho!

[itsmemuffy]

I can make you feel better...

If you let me (chapter one)

Chapter Two out now ♡

Contents: Original Trilogy! Logan x fem reader, naive reader, obsessive and touch starved Logan, friends to lovers, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, non-sexual physical intimacy, sexual fantasies (real smut in pt. 2), mentions of Charles, Ororo, Jean, Scott and Rogue

Summary: You keep everything running as smooth as possible in the background while Professor Xavier keeps a very full plate of locating mutants, running the school, and leading the X-Men. A steady stream of mutants come and go through the mansion, but a certain one in particular makes it his mission to nestle his way into your life.

The past few days had been a whirlwind for Logan. He's the type of man that goes where he wants to go- and waking up in an infirmary on a small hospital cot after being round up like some sort of animal was not on his list of things to do that week, to say the least.

For all intents and purposes, his next plan of action was to get away from here as soon as he possibly could and get back to the life he lived on his own terms. His only home and form of transportation was totalled somewhere in the Alberta wilderness, sure, but he already had experience starting over from nothing.

Oh, but was one man ever persuasive: Charles Xavier. Not many people had an edge over Logan like he did. If his ego permitted, he would be thankful that the man that held upper hand had noble intentions.

When he first met you, a cute little thing diligently running errands to what was perhaps the one man who could have his answers, you immediately piqued Logan's interest. So sweet and so kind, and Charles put his trust in you?

He had barged in like he owned the place on you and the professor scheduling out the upcoming semester in his office. Charles appeared to have already gotten used to this type behavior from him. "This, my dear, is Logan. He will hopefully be joining us now."

Oh... so is he planning to stick around? You ponder as you bite the inside of your cheek, leaning onto Charles' desk with your hip. Logan immediately came off as brooding and dismissive, and he didn't seem like the type to settle into a place beaming with so much activity. Regardless, you extended your hand out to him as you told him your name.

It took him a second to register the gesture. He only now noticed how lost in thought he was, eyes caught below your neckline. With a clearing of his throat, Logan reached a hand back to you to shake it. The most formal of ways to greet someone, yet the feeling of your delicate fingers grasping his rough palm caused his mind to wander again. He forced himself back to reality.

"I guess I'll be seeing you around," Logan remained aloof in speech, hoping you didn't notice the way he devoured you with his gaze. He decided to promptly remove himself from the room, searching for the privacy to be alone with his thoughts.

A few interactions after your initial introduction, Logan started to feel something beyond sexual curiosity. You made his heart race, you made him nervous.

Not a single detail went unnoticed by Logan. The way your hips would sway, how you parted your hair, the shade of lipstick you wore, the softness in your voice whenever you greeted him, your scent.

Life kept throwing change in Logan's way, morphing his way of living into something unrecognizable to him. For the last however many years (boy, is he ever bad at keeping track of time) he had filled them with isolation and taking whatever cheap pleasures he could find. Now he finds himself surrendering the space in his mind to a woman he barely knew. You brought warmth and light into a cold, dark place.

No, this won't fly, he thought to himself. The fact that he was losing control over the dynamic between you made him very uncomfortable. Logan made it his mission to learn more about you. If he could just figure you out, he could take the reins over again.

The two of you would always acknowledge eachother in a group setting. The tiny smile Logan would throw your way whenever you caught eyes made you weak. You couldn't help but to want to know more about him, too. A rugged man who was a stranger not too long ago was showing you consideration? A man who nobody knows where he's been, what he's done, how old he is? It kind of wracked your brain, but you tried not to let it trip you up.

Oh, but he would catch you trip up. It wasn't lost on Logan the times you entered a space with him in it, seemingly to forget what you came in there for. Maybe you were a little ditzy- your mind often racing too fast that you couldn't catch up with yourself, but it had happened too many times for it to be a coincidence. At least, that's what he told himself.

He replicated your behavior, scouting you out amongst the mansion. It wasn't hard for him to find you. Your trail had become so much bolder to his senses, overshadowing anybody else that could be in vicinity.

Logan always found what he was looking for. Excuse after excuse slipped easily from his lips. Obvious to everyone else what he was doing, you earnestly took the bait every time without fail. He marked the first time he had a conversation with you alone as a significant victory.

"Hey, didn't see you there. Have you seen Charles around? I need to talk to him." He had cornered you in the library, watching you read for a minute or two before making his presence known.

You flinched up in your chair, "Jesus Logan, don't sneak up on me like that!" The yelp that initially left your lips was definitely a sound he would remember next time he's alone.

"Sorry, doll. Didn't mean to scare ya," he chuckled.

The upset you felt towards him for breaking your flow state lasted but half a second. You couldn't be mad. After all, whatever he needed Charles for must of been important.

"No, Jean and him are off chaperoning a field trip in the city. He should be back sometime this evening."

Logan let out a little "hmph", trying his best sound to sound disappointed. Inside he was estatic he finally caught up to you again. Now with no one else around, his mind flooded with possibilities on how this could go. The odds of you immediately throwing yourself at him weren't zero, were they? If he were to take you and bend you over the table right this very second, there was a possiblility you'd let him... right? God, am I really this desperate? he thought.

After letting a moment hang in the air, he sat down next to you in the ajacet seat. "So, what are you doing here all by yourself? Got nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, huh?" Good idea, Logan, change the subject.

"You're one to talk," your focus was now one hundred percent on him. Thighs spread as he lazily leaned back in the chair, rolling his head to the side. To say he wasn't beautiful like this would be a lie. You've rarely seen him this relaxed. "Aren't you here too?"

"Huh." Logan did not anticipate you to call him out like that, "I guess you've got a point, there."

An awkward silence sat between the two of you. You pretended to divert your attention back to your book, not letting him escape the corner of your eye. Logan lit up a cigar he fished from his pocket. He desperately needed something to do with his hands.

"This is a library, you know that right?" You chide him after an annoyed sigh.

"Oh, is it now? I thought all these books were just for decoration." His lips sucked in another drag.

"Very expensive books, Logan. There's plenty of perfecly fine places to smoke around here if you just look."

He got up from his seat, "Then why don't you show me around, darlin'? Open my eyes a little." You couldn't quite tell if the pet name was to belittle you or to be affectionate. A hand reached out to bring you to stand. "I'll let you lead the way."

You lead him outside to the back of the mansion, a secluded area with an old stone bench shaded by the surrounding trees. It was your favorite place on the property, and it soon became his as well.

After that day, it wasn't an uncommon occurrence for the two of you to catch eachother in that very spot on a warm day. You would watch the kids play in the field, discussing all the antics the students got into that week. Bright afternoon sun would peak through the trees as cigar smoke wafted in the air- everything felt so perfect when you were with him.

Logan often found himself falling asleep thinking of you. He would linger on any time you spent together in the previous hours of the day, overanalyzing the interaction. Any amount he got of you was never enough. He always needed more. More time with you, more closeness, more, more, more.

If he was lucky, you would visit him in his dreams. It was rare but whenever it happened, it was a blessing. You would appear to him as vivid and real as if he was awake. There, he was finally able to close the gap between you two. His hands would finally meet every inch of your plush skin.

However, Logan's mind loved to torture him. As much as your companionship has brought him peace, no amount of feelings for you could change the fact that he was a broken man. Most nights consisted of horrific images; an incomprehensible collage of blood and bodies that he desperately tried to make sense of. All he knew is that it was all real. It happened. The pain was too prevalent to be fantasy.

Tonight he had awoke in terror yet again. A cold, uncomfortable sweat coated his body, chest heaving up and down like a piston. Logan's eyes were blown wide, staring at the ceiling in an attempt to convince himself he was safe in his room. When did four walls around you ever mean you were safe? His intrusive thoughts were keen on keeping him in a state of anxiety. When did four walls ever make someone safe from you?

That was enough. Logan knew all too well how his mind could go on and on like this if he let it. He needed to get some air. The bed creaked under his shifting weight as he sat up. His entire body felt sore. It was if he fought off an entire army in the hours he was asleep.

After finally getting up, he made his way past his bedroom door and down the hall towards the nearest exit. The kitchen was along that route. He figured he might as well grab something to drink. Anything, as long as it was cold.

As he turned the corner, the narrow hallway met the open space of the kitchen. Logan was surprised to find the room already illuminated with light. His eyes lit up when he saw who was sitting at the counter.

Logan stumbled before you a dishelveled mess. His hair was matted, sticking up every which way. The white tank he wore was half tucked into sweatpants he haphazardly put on before leaving his bedroom, drawstrings not even tied as they sat low on his hips. His demeanor was one of a wild animal, cautious and running on instinct.

A wave of awareness washed over Logan. He combed his fingers through his dark locks and straightened his back as he approached you further. Once he got himself to think in actual words again, he greeted you.

"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" His voice was hoarse and deep. Logan just now realized how sore his throat was. He hoped to god that he wasn't screaming in his slumber- at least not loud enough for anybody to hear.

"I just woke up not too long ago. Was hoping a snack would help me get back to sleep." You sat before a plate filled with a random assortment of food you scavenged from the cupboards, "Want some?"

"No thanks, sweetheart," the way he spoke sweetly to you through his gravelly tone made your heart skip a beat. He didn't need to ask to know that you had a rough night as well. It was written all over your face. A gentleness Logan typically pushed down and tried to ignore was bubbling to the surface. Something in him was relieved he was no longer alone with himself tonight.

You watch him make the journey past you to the fridge, scanning the contents of the shelves like it was the hardest decision he had to make in a long time. Rootbeer or ginger ale... Ginger ale or rootbeer...

"You didn't hear it from me, but Scott keeps a few beers in the vegetable drawer underneath the celery."

"That sneaky little bastard," he smirks. "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." Logan was delighted. Not only by the sudden promise of alcohol, but by the thought that you might share other secrets with him, too. He had a boyish urge to stay up the entire night with you and see if he could get you to spill all the other secrets you must have.

Two beers clanked together as Logan grasped them with a single hand. He took a seat across from you and slid a bottle over to your side of the countertop. Your eyes locked and held on to that contact for probably way too long. Time felt like it has stopped. The moment he walked into the kitchen and saw you, the clock might as well never ticked a single second past 1:37 AM.

"I don't know... Scott will probably notice if we take more than one," you say as you bite your lip.

"I'll run to the store in the morning, he won't even know they were gone," he was all too ready to combat your excuse. Logan wanted to see you come undone. You worked so hard, did everything you're told and were so diligent. Such a good girl. A beer in your hand looked terribly out of place and that made his heart swell.

"Guess it can't hurt, can it?" You opened the bottle and sipped as the frosty glass numbed the tips of your fingers.

He drank much slower than his usual pace, taking the tiniest of mouthfuls like the time with you would run out with the beer. Silence draped over the two of you like a warm blanket, both too exhausted to put on any sort of show to entertain the other. The satisfaction of just being in eachother's company was enough. It came all too easy when you were together. After witnessing all those horrors earlier in the night, Logan finally felt content.

You notice he rubs his neck, a strained noise rumbled in his chest. The stool you sat in screeches against the tile floor as you get up and make your way over to him on the other side of the island. Logan's eyes followed you with every step you took

"May I?" you ask as you now stand behind him, hands hovering over his shoulders, waiting for permission. It wasn't a big deal. You always help out Ororo and Jean when they have stiffness or a knot. That's what friends do for eachother, right?

Logan did his best to hide his signs of exitement. He couldn't let you know how often he thinks of your touch. If he had only one ounce less of pride, he would be begging you for the simplest of contact all hours of the day. "That's real sweet of you, but you really don't have to," he said with the slightest quiver in is voice.

"But I want to." That's it. Those four words just shattered him into a million pieces. If you only knew what you were doing to him.

Your digits grip the dip in his shoulder as your thumbs dig between his shoulder blades. You tried not to gasp when you felt the all knots going up his back. It has just occurred to you how little mind he must pay to taking care of himself for it to get this bad. Pain was a staple of his everyday life, why waste time to try and remedy it? Despite the ability to heal, the constant state of tension still took an immense toll on his body.

Logan leaned into your touch and practically melted under your fingers as he tentatively sipped his beer. If he were to turn around and look at your face, he'd see your complexion flushed bright red. Maybe you were enjoying this a little too much, and you chastised yourself for thinking that way. Little did you know all the scandalous thoughts Logan let his mind run away with on a daily basis when he was around you.

Your hands quickly grew weary working into the solid muscle, but you pushed through it for him. You know he needed this by the way his eyes were now closed and soft hums that left his lips. After working across his shoulders, you finally made your way to his neck. Logan let his head fall forward completely as your knuckles broke up the bundled-up nerves beneath his skin. The tightness in him was able to come loose a bit for the first time in a long, long time.

"Whew," you withdrew your hands and shook them out, "hopefully it feels a bit better now."

"It does," a smile crept up on his face that he tried to supress with each word. "That really was somethin', thank you."

You sat back down across from him and remained mostly silent after that apart from the occasional yawn. A single beer not quite enough to offer a buzz, but enough to lull you out of your wired state.

"Think I'm going to call it a night. You should, too. Danger room is on the itinerary first thing in the morning."

"Yeah, well you can tell Charles where to stick his itinerary." Logan was determined to make you smile one last time before you parted ways- and he succeeded.

He walked behind you on your way back down the hall, wishing the journey was not as quick as it was. Your room came up a few doors before his. Logan almost followed you into your bedroom before he shook himself out of auto pilot. It was like a habit that hadn't been formed yet. He belonged next to you in that bed, he knew because he felt it in every fibre of his being.

"Goodnight, Logan. Sleep well."

"I definetly will now. Goodnight, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. There it was again. You convince yourself it couldn't of meant anything.

When you gently shut the door behind you, time had resumed yet again. That little bubble wherein only the two of you existed had been popped.

He lied about going back to sleep, holding on to the delusion that he didn't need it. Besides, he didn't want to say goodbye to your essence. You still filled his senses, if only just barely. A deep inhale could capture your scent, and your breathing could faintly be heard if he really listened. Logan stood outside your door until the sun started to rise before he snuck back into his room.

He never ended up replacing Scott's beers.

As time went by, your encounters with eachother became more and more frequent. Excuses to talk were no longer required. You enjoyed Logan's company, as he did yours. There was no reason to pretend, you were just two friends growing closer by the day.

You gradually opened up to one another and Logan started to confide in you. Any insight on himself or his past was kept brief, giving carefully worded and vague details. You knew better than to push him for more than he was wiling to give and he liked that about you. Whenever the confusion, the regret, or the pain would get too much, he turned the conversation back to you. The more he learned about you as a person, the more his mind circled all his thoughts back to you.

Neither side knew, however, what things the other was keeping to themselves. You couldn't tell him how the casual touches felt different from him than how it felt with your other male friends. You couldn't tell him how hard it was to think when you would run into him all sweaty after an intense training session. You couldn't tell him that when you held onto your pillow at night, you wish it had his warmth.

And he couldn't tell you that you were the first thing he thought of in the morning. He couldn't tell you how he had a favorite pair of jeans that your ass looked best in. He couldn't tell you that he committed every detail about you to memory- from the curve of your lips to the way you say his name.

Anyone who saw the way Logan looked at you could deduce there was something more going on beneath the surface. Scott would tease him about it and he would swiftly shut it down. Jean and Ororo would pry you for details, only for you to tell them there was nothing going on between you and him. They didn't buy it. No one bought it.

All the words unsaid eventually built up so high it was suffocating. It was getting harder and harder to behave like normal around eachother, not knowing where the boundaries were and if it was okay to cross them. Something had to give.

It started out as a regular Friday evening with the team gathered together, watching movies and playing cards. Your initial plan was to work late into the night. Small, tedious tasks has accumulated as you had focused on more pressing matters throughout the week. Charles was having the X-Men find mutants at a pace more efficient than ever before which corresponded with an increased workload on your front.

You were leaving in the morning on a trip for the long weekend and you were determined to finish everything before you left. Ororo was always the one to break you out of your paperwork prison and get you to live a little. "Come on, everyone's waiting for you to come down before we put on the next movie."

"Storm, if I don't do this now, it will never get done."

"Oh, please. You worked so hard all week. Everything here can wait until you get back," your friend watches you as you roll your eyes and continue sorting files. Good thing she had a little trick up her sleeve, "...and Logan wants to see you before you leave."

"He said that...?" you inquire in an almost pathetic manner. She nodded but truthfully, he didn't have say it. She knew it was true all the same.

After dragging you downstairs you scanned the common room, everyone talking amongst themselves with a glass in hand. Everyone except Logan. Ororo had pulled a similar scheme to get him to come out of his self isolation, but when he saw you weren't there earlier, he decided to skip the socializing and retire to his room.

Jean, ever the fast thinker, was in on the plan, "Hey, we were thinking about ordering takeout. Can you do me a favor and see if Logan wants anything?" She hands you a menu knowing you wouldn't pass up a chance to be helpful to a friend.

Logan sat in darkness on the edge of his bed, rubbing his temples and groaning. He truly didn't mean to blow everybody else off. In actuality, he enjoyed shooting the shit with the mutants he was slowly starting to recognize as his family. Tonight was different, however.

Frustration was pushing him to his limit. He still wasn't any closer to finding the missing pieces to his puzzle. Charles told him these kind of things take time. He was sick of hearing that, he needed answers now. His sanity depended on it.

Only one thing was certain- another person had done this to him. There was no doubt the wiping of his memories was a deliberate effort on somebody's part. That wasn't the only thing. The recurring visions of being horrified at his own self, the sickening realization he was changed into something he hadn't been before haunted him on the daily. Is my body really my own?

All of this made worse by the multiple birthdays of a couple of students this past month. Simple things everyone knew about themselves- when and where they were born- was a luxury he was not afforded. Logan felt himself slipping, the feelings that were out of his control eating away at him.

A knock at the door stopped his thoughts in its tracks. "Logan? You there?" Only but a half hour earlier, you were the only person he wanted to see. But now that he has succumbed further down his spiral of self pity in that short amount of time, he didn't want you to see him like this.

"What do you want?" His uncharacteristically cold tone made you wince behind the door. As much as he needed you to pull him out of the hole he dug for himself, the dark recesses of his mind were commanding him to push you away.

"We're ordering takeout. Jean needs to know if you want anything."

"I'm not hungry." He was silently begging for you to walk away before he said something he would regret.

"Can I please come in?" You pleaded, hoping he'd recognize the worry in your voice. This wasn't like him.

"Fine," he grumbled. At the end of the day, Logan could never say no to you.

The door squeaked as you inched it open. You could barely make out his silhouette in the dark. With a flick of a switch, the space was illuminated. "Is everything alright, Lo? You're scaring me."

Careful footsteps slowly brought you to stand before him. The air in the room was undoubtedly charged. Every action you now took was deliberate, as if trying not to startle a feral animal.

"You wouldn't be the first person that's ever been scared of me," he spat out his words like daggers.

As serious as the conversation felt, you couldn't help a scoff from escaping you. You sat down next to him on the bed mere inches apart, "that's not what I mean and you know it. Stop being so obtuse and tell me what's going on."

"Nothing is going on, believe me," Logan sighed. His demeanor immediately softened just from having you close. He buried his face in his palm- an insecure gesture you've rarely seem him perform. But when he did, you knew exactly what it meant.

"Bullshit. I know you better than this, Logan." Maybe you were getting through to him.

Something about what you said must have struck him the wrong way as he tensed back up again. "You don't know me at all, actually."

"How can you say that? We see eachother almost every single day! Come on, now... You can't be serious," you playfully nudge his knee against your own, trying to lighten the mood.

"No, I am serious. How can you know me when I don't even know myself? You don't know what I've done and how many people I've had to do it to. I don't even know any of the fucking details but I know it ain't anything good, sweetheart." He watched outside himself as he was taking his inner frustration out on you.

Logan knew it wasn't right to speak to you this way when you were just trying to be there for him. As much as it stung in the moment, you tried not to take it personally. He was hurt and he needed you, that much was clear.

"Listen to me for just one second," you braced yourself, unsure how he would take what you were about to say. "I know what kind of man you are. And I don't need to know your entire damn history to be certain of that."

All he could do was stare blankly at your face as he processed your words. Without waiting for a response you continued, "How can I be so sure? Because I see it in everything you do, Logan. It's in the way you treat Rogue and the other kids, treat your teammates, treat me. I can't tell you that you've never had to hurt anyone, but you know what? I have faith in you. Faith that whatever may have happened in your past, you've learned from and are a better man for it."

A long period of silence sat between you. It wasn't exactly a comfortable silence, but the charge in the air had definetly diffused. You held his stare, now was not the time to back down. There was a chance you were finally getting through to him and you needed to make it clear you meant every word that you just said.

After a prolonged moment to properly think about what you were saying to him, the look on his face transformed into something you couldn't quite put your finger on. A look that was warm, and you could go as far to say it was a look that was loving.

Logan did indeed love you. He loved the way you didn't try to tame him, how you not only didn't shy away from the less savory aspects of his life- you met them head on with tenderness and understanding.

With this love came great guilt. You had a way of making Logan feel like the world had more to offer than just loss and suffering, for this he was grateful. Still, the feeling he deserved to suffer alone gnawed at him until his gut felt raw. If he were to send for you everytime he needed you, you would be a way busier woman than you already were. The fact that you always made time for him without the semblance of hesitation wasn't lost on him, either.

"How are you so sweet?" he croons as he caressed your cheek with the back of his hand. Logan was always gentle with his touch when it came to you, but the softness of his actions in this moment shocked even yourself. "You're too sweet for me, darlin'. Wouldn't want anything to change that."

It almost made you sick to your stomach how just barely your bodies were connected in this moment. He kept his touch as light as a feather as he trailed his hand down your neck before it made it's temporary home on your shoulder. "Say something, sweetheart," he pleaded as a firm squeeze brought you back to reality. Logan needed more of your words to keep him grounded. "Please."

"Logan, I..." your brain scrambled as you tried to gather your thoughts. The way you felt for him was so foreign to you. You couldn't put it into words right now no matter how badly you wanted to. This feeling could only properly be put into actions- an action older than language itself.

Without thinking, you close the gap and press your lips to his- Logan's bottom lip captured between your own. In his wildest dreams, he never thought you would be the one to make the first move and initiate a kiss. The hand that wasn't on your shoulder now cupped your face. He held you there, afraid you'd slip away from him.

"I'm sorry... I know it probably isn't the right time for this," you whispered against his lips.

"Mmm," Logan emitted a small chuckle into your mouth as he went in for a deeper kiss this time. More intense, hungry. His beard burned deliciously when it scuffed your skin. "Never a wrong time to kiss ya, sweet girl."

Now that he has felt your velvety soft lips, he knew he would never be able to get enough. His desire for you overrided his shame. Logan got a taste of what it would be like if you were his. From this point on, he wouldn't be able to hold back anymore. The floodgates were now open and he couldn't wait to pour himself all over you.

He pulled his face away from yours, still holding your body close, "all this just for you to leave in the morning, huh?" Logan looked down at you through half-lidded eyes. His mind was in a daze, in such bliss now that the invisible barriers between you were finally being torn down.

"Oh please, I'll only be gone for a few days." Even though the trip you were about to go on was a long time coming, you wouldn't mind throwing all your plans away just to be in Logan's arms all weekend. "Why, you gonna miss me that bad?"

"I always miss my girl when she's gone," he couldn't help all the syrupy words from flowing from his mouth. Inhibitions were nonexistent to Logan in this moment and he couldn't say anything but exactly what was on his mind.

He was right. You were his girl. In every sense of the word. His girl whose face would light up everytime he walked into a room. His girl who would save him a plate whenever he was late to dinner. His girl who would always make sure he was comfortable and had everything he needed. His girl who would do absolutely anything for him- all he had to do was ask. Logan had owned your heart for a while now.

You fiddle with the seams at the bottom of his tank, fingers brushing his abdomen underneath. It was enough to make you both shiver. "Just do me a favor while I'm away, Lo."

Jesus, how his pulse quickened everytime you called that little nickname. I'm so fucked, he thought. What a fool he was to think he was ever in control. Since the moment the two of you met, his heart belonged to you as well. "And what is that you need me to do?"

"Try not to be so hard on yourself," you punctuate your request with a chaste kiss to the apple of his cheek. You felt his face lift as a smile reached his eyes. "Shit... I haven't even finished packing," it has just now dawned on you.

The realization he couldn't keep you next to him in bed forever hit him like a brick- another bubble popped. It's a shame, but he told himself there will be plently of opportunities to conjure up the little worlds you built together. He had no other option but to placate his burning desire for the time being.

"Well, don't let me keep you any longer," Logan hesitatantly let go of his grip on you. He got up to escort you the few steps from the bed to the door. Excessive, yes. But so necessary all the same.

Just as your hand was reaching to turn the handle, turned your back to the door to embrace him. It took your entire wingspan to wrap your arms around his broad form. Logan's warmth was absolutely addictive. He held on to the back of your head with his face buried in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent.

"Just in case I don't catch you first thing in the morning..." you whispered as you caress up and down his back, "goodbye, Lo."

"Goodbye, sweetheart," he withdraws from his burrow within your hair to slip his lips between yours again. "Think of me while you're gone, will ya?"

"Always do."

And with that, you were apart again. As you were folding clothes to go into your suitcase, you couldn't help but think about how well the two of you clicked into place. He already had you longing to feel his body up against your own again. You fell asleep imagining all the places you'd let his hands explore when you got back. Logan laid in his bed doing the same.

Fin.

[lostinlovingrevery]

Can you write an insecure!reader who has stutters or nervous tics or anything that prevents her from talking easily so she just rathers to keep quiet because it kind of embarrases her, even with her boyfriend Logan

It can be any Logan you picture!! Be free with the idea too

Glossophobia

Trilogy! Logan X F! Reader

You prefer to stay quiet, keep to yourself, and do your work, but you're asked to do something that fills you with anxiety, and Logan talks it out with you

A/N: I'm sorry this took me so long! I really wanted to write this properly. I had to take speech therapy when I was a kid (had a LOT of trouble with my S, C, and Th sounds), not to mention I would get tons of anxiety speaking to groups of people or people I didn't know. It hits a lil close to home. Hope you enjoy! Also Idk why trilogy Logan called out to me for this one...

Warnings: Sort of a subplot included, reader is a scientist apart of X-men, a bit of angst, reader gets frustrated, anxiety, a small moment of comparison to others, Logan being a sweetheart and supportive, Charles jumpscares reader (there's no way Charles randomly popping in your head wouldn't scare the shit out of you), open ending

“Can you explain these results to me?” 

You looked up from the microscope, examining the broken down elements of a particular Rice Krispie cereal, the cereal box sitting nearby- the cartoon character on it seemingly staring at you in a mocking manner. Hank stood there with a stack papers in hand, looking at you questioningly past his glasses.

You took a deep breath, pushing yourself from the table, you reached your hand out for the papers, taking them gently from his hand. A deep sigh as you glanced over the papers, words forming in your head in what to say- how to explain it. You understood it completely, you wrote the paper.

Just, talking about it went a little differently. 

You let out a breath, “Okay…” You paused, as you read the results again. Hank waited patiently. Then you dropped the papers in your lap and you looked up at Hank with a raised eyebrow. “There's no way that you don’t understand this, Hank.” You point at him. “You are a doctor after all” You say. 

“I just want to hear your interpretation, not the science. I don’t quite understand the section regarding biological functions. That is your specialty you know…”

You looked up at him, with a displeased expression, before taking the papers back in your hand, flipping through to find the section Hank is talking about. “Okay.” you reread them for the third time. “Um, S..s..so, this is basically just an explanation about how drugs affect the system.” You begin. 

“Right.” Hank nods, he turns grabbing a chair nearby, and pulls it up to sit next to you. “You write about how it binds to DNA cells, which then affect the hormone cycle.”

You nodded. 

“How?” Hank asks, a small shake of his head indicating he didn’t understand. 

“It’s…It’s the same way alcohol affects hormones.” You explain. “It…affects the um, the levels of testosterone, in a man’s body. The oestrogen, in a woman’s. Except with this- it doesn’t reduce the fertility. It c-c-lings to the spermatozoa or ovum of the individual, and…” You pause to take a breath, sitting straighter in your chair. Hank was staring at you, listening intently. While you appreciate the fact that he wanted to hear your explanation….

All the research is. Right. There!

“It attacks the cells that uh, have the potential to include or actually, form a mutation.”

“Fascinating and terrible.” Hank shook his head. “This is an amazing discovery on your part dear.” 

“I wish it was for something better.” You force a smile to him, as you look back down at the papers. “Is that all you want to know?”

“Actually-” Hank sat up, leaning over to the papers as he began to point at various sections, he began to talk about different points in your paper, asking for clarification as you stare at him with silent dread. 

After that grueling conversation, you were finally left alone in your lab. Thankfully. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t enjoy talking to Hank, you were both like-minded people, who enjoyed hardcore science, and drama-ridden soap operas. You just weren’t a talker, which is why you preferred pursuing research over medicine. 

With research, you’re sitting in a quiet room, focused on your own tasks, and writing your notes to type up a paper later. Occasionally quiet small talk over the water cooler, a little;

“How's your day?”

“Fine, yours?” 

A goodbye and back to work. 

Hank pushed you to explain and explain. Which was fine, totally fine, at least he wanted to make sure he understood everything before he brought the papers up to Congress, your papers, evidence, and commentary of the genetically modified food you have discovered. You rather not have your research being mistaken, especially since it was dire that things change, and fast.

It’s just the more you talked, the more you paused, the more you stuttered, the more you misused a word, or went “um” for the 4th time in a sentence; and the more anxious you got as you began to wonder if Hank was getting annoyed. Not once did his expression change as he listened to you attempt to explain your research in more casual wording, patience was always a virtue of Hanks. 

It still left you overthinking.

You attempted to go back to your work, resting in the silence that filled the room. Your nerves settled as you forced yourself to ignore your anxiety over the conversation with Hank. Just as you were getting ready to peer back into the microscope, to finish taking your notes on the most recent discovery of yet another popular food, genetically modified to attack mutant cells. 

It’s too bad, this type of cereal were yours and Marie's favorite and now you can’t be bothered to eat them. It makes you cringe to even have to buy the damn things just so you can confirm that yes, this major brand is also poisoning mutants and damning your futures. 

What a bunch of dicks

Just as you placed your eyes over the ocular lens of the microscope, Charles voice appeared in your head- scaring the hell out of you and making you jump. 

“Jesus!” You yelped, jumping out of your chair and tipping over the box of the cereal. You heard Charles apologize sympathetically for startling you, then requesting you to come to his study. 

You sighed, standing there as you watched the cereal pour out onto the floor, creating a mess. You watched the grains form a small pile, a conceding expression on your face as your shoulders slump. 

Deciding to clean it up later, you left the lab to go to Charles study, and find out what he needs you for. 

“I think you should present this research.” 

Your face fell at Charles words. “Ex..Excuse me?” You ask, your blood running cold at the sound of presenting. You let out a small nervous laugh. “No…No way.” You shook your head. 

Charles smiled sympathetically, “Now I know you don’t like doing it, but you’re the one who discovered this. You deserve the credit.” 

“That’s why my name is on the p-p-paper!” You exclaimed. “Besides no one, is-is going to want to listen to me.” 

“Now that’s not true.” Charles says, straightening his shoulders, clasping his hands together on top his desk. 

“There’s no reason for me to present!” You hands flew out. “Hank- can do it just fine. I…cannot do it Professor. You know I hate t-talking a lot, much less in front of people.” You attempt to keep your voice steady, not allowing much emotion to fall through but you were unfortunately failing terribly. 

Not that it mattered anyway, Charles could easily read your mind and see how you felt about it. You enjoyed the telepathy Charles and Jean both had, which allowed you to not always have to talk out loud with them. Nonetheless it become a tad bit awkward eventually when Jean and you are in a lab together in complete silence, and she randomly blurts out responses to things you were thinking about. 

“Think about it.” Charles says gently, and you purse your lips together, and force yourself to nod. 

You knew Charles had good intentions. He was always trying to get you out of your shell, especially ever since you came here. You just can’t do it. It’s hard enough on your own, talking to people you considered family. You found yourself embarrassed at your own voice most of the time, preferring to just stay quiet. Talking in front of strangers? Congress?

Absolutely. Not.

You were now at your desk, your chin resting on your clasped hands; staring down at your papers with a frown. You weren’t reading the papers, you weren’t even seeing the papers. Looking past them, as you obsessed over the conversation with Hank, and Charles earlier in the morning. 

Why can’t you just do it? 

You hadn’t noticed Logan slipping inside. A big goofy smile on his face as he walks up to your desk, slowly fading as he notices the intense look in your expression, the way you were glaring down at your papers. He recognized the grumpy look, the look that tells him you were having a bad day - and was gonna need some TLC. 

He came up from your side, standing behind your chair as he leaned over you, a hand pressing to your desk to brace himself. 

You still hadn’t noticed his looming figure yet, until your eyes just happened to flip over to his hand, in which you lifted your head up in confusion, before turning to look up, scanning the familiar and muscular arm, and landing on Logan's face. He quirked a brow, a small smile spread across it, as he leaned down to press a soft greeting kiss to your lips. 

You returned it, eventually melting into it as a smile formed on your face. He parted from you, a loud smooch echoed in the room. 

“What’s it take for a guy to get noticed by ya, huh bub?” He teases. 

“Sorry...” You mutter bashfully looking away. He moved to lean against your desk, crossing his arms. 

“Still working?”

“Uh, no.” You shook your head, not looking up at him. 

“You were glaring at these papers pretty hard like they said something to offend you.” 

You fiddled with some of the papers, not saying anything. He observed your body language, the way you were closed in on yourself, avoiding looking at him, and not speaking much. Meant that you were having a really bad day.

“Hey.” His voice low, as his hand reaches over to tip your chin up at him. His brows creased together in focus, but his expression was lighthearted. “You okay?”

“M’fine.” You mutter. 

“Something happen?” 

Your eyes finally reached his. You waited a moment, “Lo?” 

“Hm?”

“Does…Do how I t-talk..Bother you?” 

He blinks, his chin tipping back a bit, as if he were baffled by your question. Then he tilts his head, brows creasing as he examines you. “How you talk?” He shook his head, “What do you mean?” 

You sigh looking down, removing yourself from his hand. Chewing on your lip, you began to pick at your nails - already thinned down from your encounters this morning. “You know what…I mean.” You glance back up at him. “I s-s- stutter, a lot. I can never just…Say what I want to say.” 

His brows creased, he tilted his head, examining your face. “I….Don’t get it. I mean, is there stuff you want to say?” 

“No I mean- When I talk, I…. have trouble getting it out and I start to s.s..stutter- Like that!” Your hands went in the air in frustration. 

“Woah, woah, settle down.” His hands went to your arms. “I don’t notice it, and I don’t think anyone else does, and if they do, who gives a shit?” 

You sigh in frustration, a little embarrassment overcoming you. You never really talked about this with Logan before, only mentioning in passing during the timing of your friendship. When you got together, you really couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it to him. You were afraid of pointing it out, that he would notice it more if you did. Maybe he would get sick of it. Especially when the other ladies here, like Ororo, or Jean, seems to speak perfectly clear with no hesitation in their words. 

You didn’t want the way you spoke noticed, or to be compared in anyway to your peers. So you simply chose not speaking much. When asked for your opinions, inputs, etc, you simply opted for the easy answer, or simply redirecting the conversation to someone else.

Your conversation with Charles put you on edge though. On one hand, you don’t want to turn him down. You knew he meant well and has high hopes for you but that merely filled you with more anxiety that if you really went up on that podium and spoke in front of congress- representing X-men and mutants alike, you were going to be an embarrassment. You certainly held a passion for this research, and want to contribute to protecting your fellow mutants, but this…

“Hey-” Logans voice cut through your thoughts again. “What is it?” 

“Nothing.” 

“Stop that.” He says firmly, then moving to kneel in front of you, his hands on your knees. “We talked about this before.” He says, referring to your conversations from the past, about opening up to each other more. You weren’t the only one who didn’t like to talk much, yet Logan’s “talking” was more about his feelings, rather than physical speaking. You let out a small sigh.

“The way I t-talk. It’s like I…swallow my words. It doesn’t annoy you?”

“Of course not.” Logan says. “Did I…Ever act like it did?”

You shook your head, and a small bit of relief came across his face. “So what’s this about bub?”

“Charles…Asked me to p-p-present my findings to Congress, instead of Hank.” You look down at where your hands were on your lap, Logans hands resting over yours. “I…don’t want to.” 

“Then don’t.” Logan replies with a small shrug. 

“But Charles-” 

“You don’t gotta do a damn thing just cause Chuck asked you to.” He says with a shake of his head. “If you want to do it, do it, if you don’t want to, don’t. You don’t need to prove anything.”

“It’s just with this…This..The way I talk…” You forced yourself to look up at him. “I, I’m c-c-constantly wondering when people are going to snap at me.”

“Fuck em.” 

You blinked in surprise, and a small laugh escaped you. “Lo!” 

“I’m serious.” He raised a brow, his expression and tone evident that he was indeed serious. “Someone’s gonna be a dick, fuck em. Tell em that to their face. In fact I’ll do it for you. Don’t need to waste your time on someone like that.” 

You giggled, shaking your head and closing your eyes as you tipped your chin downwards. A faint smile appeared on Logans lips as he watched you. You opened your eyes and looked back up at him, and for a moment he felt his breath taken away. His hands squeezed yours, as he leaned up to capture your lips in a soft but urgent kiss. Parting from you, he rested his forehead against yours, your noses bumping into each other. 

“You sure it…doesn’t bother you?” You ask softly. 

“It’s you baby. Everything about you.” He replies, “There ain’t a single thing I don’t like about you. Don’t hide yourself from me. Got it?” 

You let out a small hum and nodded. 

“So…About this presentation Chuck wants ya to do…” He leans back a bit. “What worries you?”

“Making a fool of myself.” You mutter softly, as you felt a heat in your cheeks from admitting it. 

“You?” Logan raised a brow. “The only people making themselves out to be fools is the assholes who created the whole…food…thing.” He waved his hand in annoyance. “..and everyone with those damn suits but that’s another story.” 

You laughed. “You’d look g-great in that.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Focus.” He says in a warning tone, before pausing and winking at you. “Look, if you really don’t want to do it. Don’t. You don’t need to. Beastie will be fine. Just, don’t do it just because you’re worried about others judging you.” He reaches out, brushing some of your hair back. “Guarantee you’re 10 times smarter than all the assholes in Congress anyway. Don’t let others scare you from being yourself, and speaking up for yourself. Got it?” he adjusted himself on his knee. “Whatever you do, wherever you go, I got your back.”

Just when you thought you couldn’t love the man more. 

You bit your lip, and nodded. A genuine smile came across his face. He brought your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it, and then the other. 

“So, what are you going to do?” He asks looking up at you with a raised eyebrow.

[ronanlynchdefender]

The political stances of The Raven Cycle characters are so fascinating to me. You got Blue over here who is very much a progressive activist in the making. She recognizes things like misogyny and is not afraid to call those things out even when it concerns her closest friends. Because of that, I definitely see her as the type of activist who would be in the front lines at protests whether that be at the Capitol, college campuses, at the border, or as is the case in the dreamer trilogy, tied to a tree. She is the type of person who demands change in our current system and would demand it loudly and through acts of protest or civil disobedience.

Then you have Adam who displays no strong desire to change the system and whose only desire is to rise up in that system. He wants to climb the social ladder and assimilate to those of higher social status which is partially why he envies Gansey so much in the beginning because Gansey was born into it. Adam still tries to do this in the dreamer trilogy by essentially pretending to be a Gansey-like figure while at Harvard despite hating it. Eventually, Adam gives up on trying to belong within this higher social class and "climbing the ladder" but then strangely enough becomes a fed, which means just integrating into another form of hierarchy and power structure. And I feel like a more interesting arc would've been rejecting being a part of these societal systems altogether.

Which I suppose now leads us to Ronan who is a literal anarchist. He actually rejects all societal systems and rules and it permeates every aspect of his life. But actually, I shouldn't say all because there is one societal institution which he does enjoy partaking in: religion. With the exception of his catholicism, he does not engage in any other societal institution: education, law, politics. He hates it, in fact, It is antithetical to his being which is what makes his characterization so perfect because of course a gay farmer god would hate oppressive rules and structures (except for religion). That's not even mentioning that he is a canonical ecoterrorist that cost the US government a billion dollars. But what is really interesting about his character (and where his and Blue's political stances differ) is that because he rejects these systems he has no interest or stake in changing them. He'd sooner tear down the system than try to reform it.

And then there’s Gansey who doesn't seem to engage in politics and would rather spend his days reading his little Welsh books and going on his fun adventures. Of course, he is able to do this largely because he has the privilege to not worry about politics or social class. It seems that Blue's influence changes this as they are both chaining themselves to trees in protest during the dreamer trilogy. Other than that, I don't really have a lot to say about Gansey and his politics. But I find it very interesting that Maggie has created this close-knit group of characters with such varying relationships to how they view politics and social structures. I tried to draw out a 2-axis grid to show their differences, but I don't know if it really works because I feel like Gansey kinda screws it up but nevertheless I like how they each represent different ends of a spectrum sort of.

[harmless-variety-of-garden-snake]

Maybe If You're Extra Good

aka the Bunker Bunny Buck coda, inspired completely by @newtkelly's fanart that you should look at forever right here. It's a 6500 word coda (if you can call that a coda, this might just be a sequel at this point) of porn. It's just completely porn. The preview is probably the only part that isn't just porn. You can read it on AO3 here, and here's the preview:

Buck hums to himself in the bathroom of their suite and tries to figure out what the fuck his hair is doing. He’s had a few years to get used to the grown out curls, but they still do whatever the hell they want sometimes. Right now, he needs them to cooperate.

“Get your shit together,” he hisses at them in the mirror before perching the headband over them.

In the next room, he can hear Tommy closing and opening a drawer and feels a thrill go through him.

That’s his husband puttering around. They’re on their honeymoon, they’re in New Zealand, because they want to hike and bungee jump and explore. They’d waffled on different places until Tommy stuffed Buck full of homemade soup when he got the flu while they were wedding planning and turned on the entire Lord of the Rings trilogy while he tried not to die on their couch. Then Buck had started feverishly—literally, with a 103° fever—looking up the actual country it was filmed in, found out it was incredibly LGBTQ+ friendly, and that they could do a bunch of cool stuff outdoors instead of just window shop or eat. He wanted that, too, they both did, but rafting.

And now they’re here, and they’re finally over the worst of their jetlag and went out and ate at a really nice restaurant and spoke on each other’s behalf the entire day.

“I think my husband would like…”

“Can you recommend anything for my husband? He’s a fan of…”

“Oh, my husband was definitely ready for a vacation.”

Now it's time for Tommy's surprise. He snaps the cuffs on his wrists, tugs on everything a bit to make sure it’s all sitting right, does a circle in the mirror while craning his neck, and takes a few mirror selfies for posterity before leaning in to fluff his hair up again, tugging a couple curls forward so he has a whole Clark Kent thing going on.

Not that Clark Kent would ever wear something like this.

Well, he might. He’ll have to ask Tommy, he’s the comic book guy.

“Sweetheart?” Tommy calls from the other side of the door. “You okay?”

Buck sits on the edge of the tub to get the shoes on and smiles. “Yeah, baby, go sit down.”

He gets the ankle straps fastened and wobbles to his feet. He’s practiced the walking when he’s home alone, but going from sitting low to standing is still a little dicey. Once he’s caught his bearings, he walks to the door, wishing the clack of the heels wouldn’t give him away, but maybe it’s building anticipation for Tommy. All he knows is that Buck has a surprise for him.

When he opens the door, Tommy is sitting in one of the armchairs in the bedroom with one leg crossed over the other. He’d shed his jacket and tie as soon as they got back to the room, but he’s still wearing slacks and a white shirt that’s now open at the collar. In his hand is his phone, pointed at Buck, but he’s not looking at the screen. Instead, he’s staring at him. For a long moment, that’s all he does, and then the phone clatters to the ground.

“Surprise?” Buck tries, and Tommy just sort of breathes and blinks. “I thought a bunny costume would be sort of funny.”

Tommy’s eyes move slowly up to Buck’s face, and he looks concussed. “This—no. Not fun—oh. Uh.”

Buck bends slightly to tug one of the stockings back into place, letting it settle against his skin with a light snap. “So you like it?”

“Huh,” Tommy replies, but it’s more of an exhalation.

Buck finally steps out of the doorway and around the bed, and Tommy’s eyes drop to his feet. He makes another noise, and his hand forms a sort of claw for a second before relaxing back on his thigh. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen his face so red.

“Tommy?” he asks, and his husband looks up at his face and visibly swallows.

“Mm?”

“You like it?” he asks coyly, running his fingers along the high cut of the bodysuit where it’s laying against his hips.

Tommy nods, making another slightly distressed noise.

[tossawary]

I don't have a solid plot attached to this idea, I don't currently really have the desire to drop everything to go write "The Hobbit" fanfiction, but for a while I've had the idea of *gestures vaguely" some post-canon story (probably some form of fix-it) taking place before, during, and after a grand dwarven opera performance in Erebor.

Because I am absolutely certain that the Lonely Mountain had an absolutely stunningly beautiful Royal Opera House (and plenty of other, less grand performance halls) that, at the city's height, was putting at least one show every single day. Orchestral symphonies, operas and operettas, dramatic plays, dance performances... you name it, they had it and more. The various cultures of Middle Earth evidently ADORE music, dwarves absolutely included. The Company all bring instruments to Bag End to play and sing themselves off before their quest!

Also, beyond the music side of things, with how dwarves are named as master crafters? Smiths and toymakers and magicians? No way that they did not have some of the most gorgeous costumes, sets, and effects on the planet. Dwarves would go WILD with their articulated stage puppets, I know it.

One of my biggest issues with the film trilogy is that it failed to deeply explore the Company as people who had lost their home, beauty and culture included. Smaug not only killed countless people, entire families, and leave many of the survivors poor and desperate, the dragon went on to hoard their heirlooms and life's work and leave these priceless gold treasures UNUSED. It is an additional heartbreak to imagine Smaug tearing through Erebor neighborhood by neighborhood, house by house, so that he could tear out every gemstone in, say, mosaic made by someone's grandmother that sat above the breakfast table every morning. To think that Smaug in the aftermath tore magical lanterns off the walls, the sort that might have been decorated with animals or flowers, to make some daycare walkway just a little more cheery for the children, and in his greed left a dead city in the dark.

The live-action movies put both Smaug and the Balrog in these... absolutely enormous chambers that serve somewhat unclear purposes. The king's treasure vault and a former marketplace, I think? (Moria has been raised by goblins, I can forgive the emptiness.) It's a quick visual depiction of Thror's uncontrollable gold lust to give him a Scrooge McDuck room, sure, instead of anything with an actual organizational system (normally, I assume dwarves are big on sorting their vaults if they have one). Super big columns and hallways and staircases do somewhat effectively communicate the "lost glory" of Moria (I am very fond of these movies!!!), even if I also think it's not as interesting as it could have been. And the other obvious purpose of big, open warehouse-like spaces is 1) it's easier to animate the big creatures moving around in them generally and 2) it allows the films to show off the full-bodied visual spectacle of their big creatures.

But I think it would have also kicked ass to put Smaug in Erebor's former Royal Opera House or something, some enormous theatre decorated across generations. That could be big! The ART (statues, fountains, banners, windows, general architecture) that you could put on the exterior, which has had its face ripped open for the dragon to get inside? The ART that you could put INSIDE (mosaics, murals, and more) as Bilbo sneaks inside? Ohhh, you could include so many potential lore references with thematic relevance!

Also, Bilbo could get jump-scared by old articulated stage puppets or something. IT'S THE DRAGON-! Oh, no, it's some old opera prop. (Yes, we're talking more about an actual adaptation of "The Hobbit" rather than fanfiction concepts now.)

Sure, there's raw material treasure and coins hoarded here in this place, but there would also be musical instruments and toys and household tools and cookware and fancy dishes, wedding jewelry and anniversary gifts and family shrines and festival costumes, fountain statues and street lamps and mailboxes and business signs, and other evidence that people really LIVED here. These are all ordinary objects that Bilbo recognizes from the Shire.

We could tie these objects directly back to objects we saw featured in Bilbo's home early in this adaptation, which he was trying to "protect" from the dwarves during their "That's what Bilbo Baggins hates" song. There are half-burned portraits of people's late parents here too. Did he think that there weren't any dwarves who made doilies or handkerchiefs embroidered with flowers? Of course they made things like that too.

It's perfectly symbolic to, say, place Smaug's bed in an area like the king's throne room. The dragon is now the King Under The Mountain. But I think it would be deliciously haunting to have the throne room of Erebor be empty, the throne half-broken, the silver stripped from the walls and moved elsewhere, because Smaug doesn't care about Thror's old audience chamber. What's a dwarf king to a dragon? He burns the same as all the others. The dragon has instead made his bed in a beautiful public place of art and culture that was for the people, by the people, surrounded by the lovingly crafted belongings of the ordinary people he killed. Gold is gold to a dragon whether it's in a coin or a candlestick.

I think if you really want to sell one of the key messages of "The Hobbit", which in my opinion is: "If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." then you ought to throw yourself behind EREBOR being a place where food and cheer and song had value, not just the Shire. Thorin isn't lost at the end because he's a dwarf and dwarves don't value such things, but because he as a specific person who makes the mistake of weighing pride and gold over people, and he comes to regret that on his deathbed.

So, back to the fanfiction idea, I think that Erebor had music again in it as soon as dwarves started living in it again. It will take decades and decades before the Royal Opera House is half as splendid as it was before, and there is a performance there with beautiful costumes and puppets and sets comparable to those that came before, some traditional historical show that is part of specific seasonal holiday for dwarves. But that very first winter, when the future still looked grim, I think the dwarves cleared out a small stage and cast the roles of this traditional musical retelling of their history among them, based on who knew the parts best, because they aren't just miners and smiths and soldiers, and there was music again in Erebor that winter despite all the damage that the dragon did.

[tobiasdrake]

Here we are at the end of Andor. And my opinion of it is pretty simple. I think the show is really good at talking about the politics of fascism and insurrection.

Where this season excels is in the big moments and the political speeches. It's things like the Ghorman Massacre or Luthen teaching Kleya how to be an operative. It's moments like Mon Mothma's speech to the Senate, where she addresses the Senate and says, "Donald Trump is plunging this country into a fascistic hellscape while FOX News erodes the very concept of an objective reality. You, the person sitting here watching Star Wars: Andor, you have to be responsible for pushing back against this."

The show has a lot to say, and what it has to say is extremely relevant to this moment in history. It is a very good at being a powerful political manifesto that wears its themes on its sleeve.

What it's not so good at is... doing things with the characters it has. Holy shit, do I need to vent because when the show wasn't giving political screeds that I like and agree with, it was such a fucking mess.

Here, at the end of the line, I feel confident saying that they have utterly failed to make Cassian seem like the character from Rogue One. The show is too enchanted by that moment when he decided to defy orders and follow his heart, which was supposed to be a moment of character development.

But they've backwritten it into the show as his defining character trait. The Cassian of Andor is a loose canon who undermines everyone all the time. He hates the Rebel Alliance and is only here because his girlfriend dumped him, and all he does is play cards with his buddies, steal ships, and get in arguments over whether or not Tony Gilroy's OC is the greatest character ever introduced to Star Wars.

He has two separate arguments about that. It's crazy how much the last three episodes are just about what an amazing character Luthen was. Like, the parts with Luthen and Kleya's backstory were actually really good but then the next two episodes just will not stop talking about how Luthen is a Great Man of History, singularly responsible for the very existence of the Rebel Alliance.

Everything good that ever happened in the Star Wars Trilogy, they owe it all to Luthen Thunderdick who descended from on high and made the Empire tremble with his mighty footsteps. It was all him and nobody else. For decades, he was the guy, and there was nothing he couldn't do. Except kill himself effectively.

At the same time that the show can't shut up about how great Luthen is, I was genuinely stunned that Luthen's big confrontation with Dedra consisted of him passively slitting his own gut and hoping for the best. Luthen really struck me as a "Killing myself in a giant explosion to try and take you with me" sort of character, but apparently the big 'out' he had decades to plan for himself was to just quietly die in front of Dedra and hope the Empire will let him.

Cassian and Bail later talk about how Bail being a "Go down swinging" sort of guy makes him like Luthen. And. Like. Yeah, I would have thought Luthen would go down swinging too. So weird that he didn't.

Honestly, it would have been fine if Dedra was killed like that, too. Because the show had nothing else for her to do. She was just sort of fired from the plot right after that. This is another place where the politics are strong but the character work sucks.

Dedra's ultimate comeuppance for everything she's done this season comes in the form of Lonni stealing her access codes offscreen somehow. That's it. That is what undoes her. At some point between episodes 9 and 10, Lonni somehow acquired the ability to access her files. We never saw it happen, only heard him talk about it to Luthen afterward, but that offscreen occurrence so minor that it wasn't worth showing is the moment that seals Dedra's fate.

Dedra going to the prison from season 1 is a strong political point about the way the cruel and unforgiving systems of fascism will devour and destroy their own without hesitation or remorse. She is ultimately crushed under the very machine she worked so hard to help build.

But as a final resolution for arguably the central antagonist of the entire series, it has the same energy as if she were just suddenly dragged away by mountain lions. A bad thing happens to her because the show is over but it doesn't really connect to anything the principal characters are actively doing.

Luthen should have just blown them both up and saved us all a lot of screentime that could have been spent writing a satisfying conclusion to the character journeys we've been following.

I also found it unsatisfying when Syril, horrified by what he's contributed to, exited out into the crowd of Ghormans during the massacre... Only to suddenly spot Cassian and suddenly just turn into a Physical Threat Boss Fight. A violent orc who overpowers Cassian with his incredible accountant might.

But at least they had the Ghorman dad be the one who shot him. Dedra didn't even get that much. She was just dragged away by mountain lions because Lonni did things offscreen between episodes.

It's kind of amazing how this show is supposed to be the prequel for Cassian Andor, a ruthless killer first introduced executing his own informant for the "greater good" of the Alliance, and the most involved he is with the ultimate fate of any of the show's antagonists is getting his ass beaten down by Syril Karn just before someone else shoots him.

Cinta Kaz is the character most poorly served, of course. They brought her back just so they could bury the gays and, by Tony Gilroy's admission, give her girlfriend Vel some emotional baggage. Vel then does not do anything for the rest of the show. That's basically where her character ends.

Bix also got hit pretty hard. Allegedly, she does missions for Luthen and then is dedicated to the Rebel Alliance. She's in it for the cause. But she only gets to go on one mission and that's to get direct revenge on the guy who traumatized her. Apart from that, all she does onscreen is mope around about Cassian and then dump him because a random Force seer told her that he needs to be single for Rogue One.

Literally wrote a fucking psychic into the show to walk up to her and go, "Whoooo the Force tells me that Cassian has a GLORIOUS DESTINY that you can watch on Disney Plus, and you aren't part of it. Get out of here before they fridge you, girl!"

I'm not even going to touch that final scene of her with a ten-foot-pole. I will say that it's kind of gross that she "chooses the Rebel Alliance over Cassian" not by dedicating herself to the cause but by dedicating him to the cause while she retires to go raise his kid. It's kind of gross that they wrote "choosing the Alliance over Cassian" to mean that.

Not like the Rebel Alliance themselves are good for anything. Disney's been assassinating the Rebels for years due to a fondness for renegade protagonists screaming "SCREW YOU, MOM, I'M DOING WHAT'S RIGHT!!!"

Star Wars: Rebels depicts the Alliance fingerwagging at the Ghost crew and telling them, "DO NOT go try to liberate Lothal! Liberating worlds from Imperial control is NOT what the Rebel Alliance is about!" But then the Ghost crew do it anyway because fuck those useless cowards.

Rogue One depicts the Alliance fingerwagging at Jyn Erso and telling her, "DO NOT go try to steal the Death Star plans! Resisting the Empire is NOT what the Rebel Alliance is about!" But then the Rogue One crew do it anyway and drag those useless cowards reluctantly into helping.

With that in mind, Andor is at least consistent when it has Rebel leadership making a big stink about how Luthen sucked and the Death Star intel is wrong and we should just shove our thumbs up our asses and do nothing.

Until Draven realizes that the plot of Rogue One has to start somehow so he does a complete 180 and gives Cassian an important mission, even though they all hate Cassian for being a loose canon renegade who doesn't play by the rules.

Disney just does not like the Rebel Alliance as an organized resistance movement.

Oh, and let's talk about Wilmon. Wilmon gets an amazing moment in episode 6 when Saw Gerrera radicalizes him to the cause. Again showing the political strengths of the show, Saw gets to deliver an amazing speech about how you have to be a little crazy to be a revolutionary, and it gets Wilmon so fired up he exposes himself to gases to join Saw in the madness. He is IN IT now, ready to GET CRAZY AND DO SOMETHING.

The rest of Wilmon's story for the season is that he gets a girlfriend. She seems nice.

That's it. Wilmon's done. Nothing more for Wilmon to do.

Kleya, a character who gets to eat so well in episode 10, then suddenly gets written bewilderingly in 11. She sends out a signal for evacuation because she has vital intel she had to endanger in order to make up for Luthen's random bout of incompetence. Then, when evac arrives, she inexplicably starts an argument with Cassian over whether Luthen is the greatest character ever to grace the face of Star Wars and refuses to be evacuated.

Fortunately, she wastes so much time that the Imperials show up and knock her out with a stun grenade, which also hits Cassian but he shrugs it off with his raw manliness. This allows Cassian and K-2S0 to have a kickass fight scene and then drag Kleya to evac before she can wake up and start weirdly resisting again.

K-2SO's really just here to make witty banter (which he succeeds at) and to have a fight scene where he storms the safehouse to rescue Cassian from Kleya's random bout of stupidity. I honestly don't know which is my favorite bit of choreography.

One Imperial raises a gun at the identifiably hostile droid but doesn't pull the trigger while K advances into grappling range and kills him. The other Imperial, watching this, raises his gun and doesn't pull the trigger until K advances into grappling range and kills him too.

K-2SO, famously killed by blaster fire, slowly advances into grappling range on a guy who shoots him in the chest. The blaster shots glance harmlessly off of K-2SO's invulnerable chassis.

K then uses that guy as a human shield to block enemy blaster bolts, even though it was just established that he's invulnerable to them. So I guess that part was just for shits and giggles.

Either way, at least K did get to be funny. I do feel like this is the same character from Rogue One. So there's that, at least.

But overall... yeah. Andor makes for a really good manifesto that really captures the moment in history in which we are living in, but is not very good at telling a story.

[fiveht]

hi five, do you have any smut recs? Your smut is probably the best I've ever read (and I've read A LOT of smut) and you're becoming my gold standard, so I'm curious, who is five_ht's five_ht? Any fandom/pairing you like!

Oh my god anon, the rabbit holes this ask sent me down.

It may surprise you to learn that I don't actually read a ton of PWPs, in spite of the fact that I used to write PWPs exclusively. For me, the appeal of a smut scene comes from the dynamics between the characters, which obviously can be well established in a short, porny one-shot, but it usually takes a bit more time and plot than that. Also, smut doesn't have to be particularly explicit or detailed for me to consider it top-tier porn. Gutter filth is my own approach, but it's not the only one that works.

So I managed to come up with a list, one for each of the pairings that I'm currently into. Most of these are on the longer side, and if you're unfamiliar with any of the source materials, consider this a strong recommendation that you give them a shot if the fics pique your interest.

First, Wolfstar:

For My Impertinence by synonomy

Regency (non-magic) A/B/O AU with all the standard associated tropes

This one is an example of absolutely top notch UST followed by brain-melting porn. Alpha Remus is just… perfect. I always appreciate an author who can balance the omegaverse tropes with a character like Remus, who we generally take to be fairly quiet and level-headed and not tending towards those typical alpha impulses. Seeing him break, just a little bit, in the heat of the moment, is almost hotter than the porn itself. Also, credit where it's due: it is NOT easy to incorporate truly explicit porn into a universe like this without either going over the top flowery with the language, or causing an abrupt shift in tone, but synonomy manages it. So hot, and so satisfying.

Damen/Laurent, Captive Prince:

Switch by AstraBlue

Modern AU, BDSM, daddy kink

This thing is long, and still a work in progress, but it's so, so worth it. I don't even normally read WIPs, but after I read Captive Prince I was jonesing for some fic, and I'll be honest, the prevailing fandom view on the relationship dynamics between these two wasn't really working for me. Like, okay, if we did not have canon sex scenes in the series, I could maybe buy into the concept of Laurent being a topping-from-the-bottom kind of guy as the popular fandom opinion seems to lean, but we DO have canon sex scenes, and what I see in those scenes is a repressed little bean who clings to control in his social life and is desperate for someone safe to give him permission to let go and stop thinking for a little while in private. And lucky Laurent, he has the ultimate soft Dom literally gift wrapped and delivered to him, in "giant animal" form.

So that's the kind of dynamic I was looking for when I started reading fic for this pairing, and Switch scratched that itch like nothing else. Daddy kink, soft Dom Damen, aloof imperious Laurent who turns to putty in daddy's hands. It's got all the things. It's got Damen running into Laurent at a sex club dressed in his Dom clothes with a man grovelling at his feet and in spite of all that, sizing him up in under a minute and concluding, "I'm going to fuck him until he cries, and he's going to call me daddy while I do it."

It's also worth noting that this is the sort of AU that can easily stand alone as its own story if you're unfamiliar with the characters. Not because it represents any major departure from the characters in canon, but because it does such a good job of establishing them within the universe that you can read it and feel like you're reading an original work. (That being said, as long as you're cool with some technically problematic tropes, you should read the books, because they're fantastic.)

Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish, The Raven Cycle:

twist by thesehands

Canon setting (post Dreamer trilogy), short and porny, daddy kink

It was hard to decide on one specific fic to rec for this pairing, but most of the ones I was debating were by the same author, so I went with this one, because daddy kink. This one is canonverse based, though they also have written a number of really amazing AUs. (Also check out "eights" for some quality horse girl Ronan action.)

Thesehands just has the most perfect approach to this pairing, I would read literally anything they wrote for them. Any author who acknowledges the sacred truth of Ronan as an unapologetically slutty bottom is a good one in my book, but this author really gets it. Their Adam voice also cannot be beat; domineering, attentive, detail oriented, a little bit mean in a way that Ronan gets off on; that is Adam Parrish. Management.

Anyway, this fic in particular is such a great exploration of the way daddy kink might work between these two. Because really, if we want to talk about an established power dynamic between them, surely we'd say that Ronan holds the balance, considering he is a literal god of creation, and is also physically stronger and more imposing in every way, but he defers to Adam in pretty much all matters anyway, because he chooses to. I could write whole essays about how this all works for them, but that's not what this post is about. This post is about telling you to go read this fic where Ronan redecorates his late father's office for Adam to use and then goes out and gets a womb tattoo and then watches a porn video entitled MUSCLE BOTTOM BEGS TWINK DADDY FOR ORGASM.

Andrew Blur/Sam Halse, Summer Sons:

speak to me (don't say a word) by bothybitch

Quasi-gapfiller, PWP, canon D/s vibes

This pairing (and fandom) is woefully underappreciated, but I would keep coming back to this fic for them even if there were hundreds more to choose from. This fic picks up from the middle of a canon scene and asks, what if Andrew wasn't on some ghost bullshit and instead let himself be gay and horny for the second time?

If you've read the book (and if you haven't, you should), you'll know that the D/s tone between Andrew and Sam (and Andrew and every other attractive, masculine alpha male he's ever met) is well established in canon without ever needing to be stated or explained. Andrew unknowingly craves direction and dominance, and Sam gleefully obliges. This fic weaves in that dynamic effortlessly, which is honestly not always easy when the story is so short and the actual sex acts are so tame, what with Andrew's complete lack of experience with men. This fic gives us a little taste of what might be going through Andrew's head on those rare occasions when it's clear enough for him to directly acknowledge that yes, he is into men, and beyond that, he is into dirty, rough, dominant men who call him princess.

Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, All For The Game

quicksand by likearecord

No-exy AU, college setting, heavy on the yearning and pining and UST

Okay, if you read ANY fic in this fandom, you should be reading likearecord. They are the absolute GOAT, not to mention amazingly prolific. NO ONE writes Andrew's voice like they do. (Or Neil's, of course, but Andrew's seems to be much harder for a lot of authors to grasp, for obvious reasons.) This particular fic is an AU that's considerably lighter in tone than canon, but it's so fucking good, and funny, and engaging, like the perfect quirky queer romcom. I've reread it probably like a dozen times. Andrew's inner monologue makes this whole fic what it is, just his constant, intense pining for Neil that colours literally his every thought and action. It also gives us one of my favourite "oh no, he's hot" moments in anything I've ever read, ever:

Andrew follows their eyelines across the deck and comes to an abrupt stop, his feet refusing to take even one more step once he sees the erotic mirage in front of him. The guy is barefoot, topless, in swim trunks that leave most of his sculpted thighs bare and cling wetly to the muscles of his ass and the soft handful of dick between his legs. Above that, abs so cut Andrew is pretty sure he could outline each individual muscle with his tongue; they form a defined V that slopes towards the trail of auburn hair that disappears tantalizingly beneath the waistband of the swim trunks. Belatedly, Andrew drags his gaze up. The guy is toweling off his hair with one hand, making the muscles across his chest and arm ripple. Andrew meets his eyes—a bright blue that puts the sparkling pool water to shame—and flushes hot at the curious amusement he finds in them. This is—this has to be Neil. Kevin’s little brother Neil. Andrew had been expecting dangerous—a cheeky menace with a honed steel tongue and a fondness for risk—but he hadn’t expected lethal. He hadn’t expected Neil to be fucking gorgeous, actually, but here he is. Strong jawline, straight nose, cheekbones you could sharpen a knife on, a lush mouth that imprints its shape onto Andrew’s brain instantly, and the hint of a dimple peeking out around his half-smile. Andrew is pretty sure Neil is moving in slow motion, that it’s taking long, long seconds for Neil’s hand to stop moving over his hair, for him to blink those enormous blue eyes, for him to toss the towel onto a chair. A stirring instrumental plays in the background, ringing through Andrew’s apparently otherwise empty skull.

Gay disaster Andrew Minyard is a masterpiece.

Anyway, I realise this fic is technically rated M, but I assert that that is irrelevant when the buildup is this good. I also think that the epilogues were added after the fact and that the porniest of them could easily merit an E rating. That shit is so hot, I swear to God. Andrew's unending thirst for Neil has such a presence, it's like a whole character in and of itself throughout the entire story.

[tatooineknights]

What’s your opinion of Luke’s storyline’s in the Legends lore vs canon?

Bro originally left Jedi training to save his friends lives and loved his father so fiercely that it saved him from the Dark Side and even ended up having a wife and child but in new canon, wouldn’t even allow Grogu to have a relationship with Din during training 😭

imo, luke has always been a character built on love and passion and I’m kinda sad that he sort of strayed from that in the Disney lore and I’m so curious to hear your opinion on it or if you agree/disagree!

We are getting into the realm of headcanons, so bear with me, as a lot of sequel trilogy content is still very vague and they kind of go back and forth on what this direction was.

Mark Hamill has said that during The Last Jedi, he was given the motivation of "what would you do if you found out someone you love might be baby Hitler?" I think that is an interesting lead to think of Luke's backstory building up to the sequel films, as Vader was a source of sheer terror throughout the galaxy that killed a numerous amount of individuals. That person created Luke (and, if we go by George Lucas's original intention, Palpatine created Anakin via the Force). That powerful swirling Force is genetic in the case of the Skywalkers, created specifically for this purpose, and Luke could feel himself on the precipice of turning himself.

I think there is a lot of guilt in Luke, guilt that is not really his own fault, but generational trauma of knowing that his own father wiped out the Jedi Order and assisted in destroying generations of democracy peace. Relatives of Hitler swore to not continue their own line, because of guilt over a man they were only distantly related to. I can see Luke, a man who basically gives up all forms of attraction by the beginning of Empire, internalize this as he needs to go through and do this alone. Because there is an undercurrent of fear, fear that he might unintentionally lead things down the same path. Maybe he could protect himself from something so disastrous, but a child? And his worst fears do come true when he instinctively activates his lightsaber on a twenty-year old Ben Solo, triggered by horrific visions.

Luke has a history of carrying a lot of burdens on his shoulders and not allowing others to share the brunt of it. From his perspective, this is a deeply selfless expression of love for his friends, the worlds, life (yet flawed, it remains). He'll go through it alone, so others won't have to go through the difficulties and trials.

Now, regarding Grogu, I think an important distinction is that Luke ultimately gave Grogu the choice to be with Din if he was not yet ready for this life. Was it the brightest idea to send him flying off with Artoo? No but we can blame that on LucasFilm running out of budget to get the Lukebot running for another episode. A lot of Star Wars fans want to abandon the idea of attachments, which isn't going to happen with Filoni in charge, as that is a huge philosophy of George Lucas's personal life and things like that are one thing he won't give in on. Maybe it is a slightly conflicting message for the prequel trilogy to introduce after we had an exact opposite message in the original films.

Anakin's road to ruin is a direct metaphor for George Lucas's own struggles with his life, especially his first marriage. It is good to love, when it is selfless. When someone wants or has to go, you have to let them go, because it no longer becomes love, it becomes possession. It is a dangerous line to blend. Luke successfully needled that line but would others? It remains to be seen.

Not saying this is all correct or definitive, if your own canon or Legends makes more sense to you, then go ahead. I absolutely have my own personal exceptions. I hope this little essay was helpful in trying to make sense and detangle the web of post-ROTJ Luke, whether you agree or disagree with the choices they made.

[siriuslyobsessedwithfiction]

This post argues that most Darklina shippers ignore Alina’s lack of agency and the abusive dynamics in the series. Alina’s choices were largely controlled by powerful men — especially the Darkling — and the only real choice she made for her own happiness was to be with Mal. The Darkling manipulated, isolated, and abused her, stripping away her autonomy, especially through the amplifiers that symbolically and literally controlled her power. Even Nikolai, though seen as a fan favorite, initially approached Alina with political motives and pressured her into an alliance. Throughout the trilogy, Alina is used as a tool by various men, with Mal being the only one who loved and supported her for who she truly was, without any hidden agenda. The post critiques the romanticization of Darkling and emphasizes how Mal’s love was the only genuinely selfless and honest one in Alina’s life.

Okay, I guess this will be my essay I was going to publish anyway.

Alina Starkov and her inability to form healthy relationships

Let's put the Darkling and Nikolai aside for a moment. Yes, the only decision the famously indecisive Alina made for herself was continuously choosing Mal even though he was continuously shitting on her and not choosing her while for some reason also asking her to choose him. Why should we clap for that?

For many years now fans have been arguing about which love interest is best suited for Alina. The most objective answer to that question is none. In order to explain why first we need to dive deeper into Alina’s character and both her platonic and romantic relationships. The main problem with Alina's relationships seems to be the fact that she is an extremely passive character and rarely takes action, unless she's absolutely forced to do so. That is, if we don't count her suicide attempts. I think she is just written that way and obviously I cannot bash a fictional character for the way she is written by the author. LB's writing style there reminds me of a self-insert fan fiction from Wattpad. So Alina's lack of agency is actually the author's fault.

Of course as a typical y/n, Alina doesn't go out of her way to take action or make friends. They sort of come to her, like Marie and Nadia immediately assuming the roles of "best friend side characters in a new setting to provide exposition and gossip". The only one she seems to desperately hold onto and go to far lengths to to keep him in her life is Mal. Most of the time he doesn't even want to be there and makes that explicitly clear by weaponized incompetence: claiming that Alina doesn't need him while she consistently states that she needs him for support, not just tracking. But Mal constantly whines how he is useless, a one trick pony and the only thing he has to offer to her is tracking, even though the only thing Alina really needed, especially in the second book, is some comfort. Which ironically, Alina's proclaimed enemy - the Darkling provided. He sat with her during long nights and silently kept her company while Mal was out there drinking, gambling and sleeping with other women instead of performing his duty as Alina's captain of the guard.

Which is so bizarre. The "big bad manipulator" Darkling has plenty of alone time with her during multiple nights and never speaks to her, let alone manipulates or torments her. On the other hand, every time she interacts with Mal, they fight, he makes it about himself, asks her to make things go back to the way they were (that being her being sickly and fragile and trailing behind him like a mouse) as if she can turn back time. As if they aren't in the middle of a brewing civil war. As if Alina doesn't have a duty and a purpose for the first time in her life. Alina was overwhelmed by responsibilities she wasn't ready to take on, and her best friend Mal does the opposite of helping. He acts childishly and ignores his job instead of supporting her. Mal's big fight with Alina drives her to the point of running away aimlessly in the city in her pajamas and attempting suicide. Suicide, people. Mal is not her friend, let alone a good love interest.

It's important to remember that he didn't support her or accept her for what she was for two books straight, then made a belated 180 degree switch when the author decided that Malina would be endgame. Even the epilogue in RaR sucks. Once again, Alina is frail and strange, servants (who she now employs) don't respect her, sneer and make fun of her, while her now husband Mal turns a blind eye. Everything is back to the way it was: Mal thrives, Alina is...there, missing an essential part of herself, isolated, friendless unless her old ones visit once a year. The ending is supposed to be bittersweet, a couple who survived a war building a new life together, but I don't see the sweet part.

Alina had grown up into an extremely controlled and shut off environment. Not only did she live in a small village, she also lived in an orphanage which was basically a cult. It's crucial for development of children's minds and psych for them to have some sort of moral and core values explained and ingrained into them. Alina grew up in an orphanage where she did not have friends except Mal. Her only mother figure was an abusive hostile sexist woman. She doesn't really believe in saints and we never see her actually strive to make her country better. Her patriotism is usually out of obligation because she is stuck with her powers or because a charming person like Nikolai told her that they could do a lot of good together. Her only driving force in life is Mal. That is extremely unhealthy. 

 I do not want to blame Alina for not being an extrovert and going out of her way to make friends but I think we should acknowledge that her insecurities often get in the way of her forming relationships. She doesn't make friends in the first army because she is insecure about how small and fragile she is and maybe some people were cruel to her and if they were, it's understandable why she would be hesitant to put herself out there. But the thing is though, the very first thing we see from her, the very first words she utters are hostile towards the person who just bumped into her. Someone says to her "watch where you're going" and she snaps at him: "why don't you watch your fat feet". Well, fat shaming was certainly not necessary. She could just say "sorry" or "watch where you're going yourself" or just "piss off". She immediately retaliates to point out his "flaw" because only thing she sees in herself are her own flaws. The sentence she says after that in her inner monologue is that the soldier probably didn't expect lip from a scrawny little thing like her.

She shames others and then shames herself and the cycle repeats and it never goes anywhere. She doesn't learn to not judge herself or others and that is one of the reasons why she can't form healthy relationships. Furthermore, when she gets to the little Palace, she's prejudiced against Grisha and doesn't try to make any friends once again. As an introvert I understand why she wouldn't want to in new environment but but the smart thing would be to not be completely alone. The only "friends" she made are the ones who came up to her and literally stuck to her - Marie and Nadia, and she didn't really care about them.

Then, there's Genya. Alina finds out that Genya has been accepted into the second army and that she was a spy for the Darkling and she immediately takes it as a personal offense. In reality, Genya was a servant, a Grisha without color, so she should've seen the spy thing coming. The darkling wasn't in the little Palace most of the time so obviously he would have someone to keep an eye on her. Also she guilt-trips Genya when she doesn't immediately take Alina's side and even when we hear Genya's backstory and what she went through, Alina doesn't feel nearly as sympathetic as she should have for a friend. Why would Genya put her trust in the girl, who is allied with her abusers - the royal family, and for months didn't even care to get to know people around her, since she was only there until she could find a way to reconnect with her one sided childhood crush? Genya was well-versed in political situations and got double dose of suffering as a Grisha and as a servant, while Alina didn't even accept being Grisha. She should've known Alina wouldn't stay and bother to liberate Grisha and she didn't. She left everything up to the family who was responsible to Genya's rape for years. And Nikolai, who Alina praises to heavens and claims is the best future for Ravka, sent his rapist father to a nice luxurious retirement in the Southern colonies, as well as his mother who was equally at fault for what happened to Genya because she was the one who removed her protection from Genya and allowed the king to rape her. Alina doesn't express any concern over that, nor did she express concern when the King was in her presence and spent his days "chasing servant girls". Ew. Just ew. Alina sees what happened to Genya before her very eyes and allows it to happen. Alina is not Genya's friend.

Even in Siege and Storm, for some reason, Alina demands loyalty from Grisha who she hasn't done anything good for. What do they owe her? Alina came to the little Palace, didn't train, was prejudiced against them and they're supposed to choose her over the man who gave them shelter and trained them and kept them safe? Alina claims she does not want to be a saint or a queen or a leader one second and the next she demands unquestioning loyalty from other Grisha, as well as Nikolai's rogue Grisha and her cult. But do we really see her doing anything for them? No. When she went to the little Palace all she said is that the darkling was a psychopath and that he would take over the world, which he wasn't even planning to do. And then she threatened the remaining Grisha in the little Palace that she would have them in chains if they didn't listen to her. Imagine if the Darkling did that. She never really befriends the Grisha that stuck with her. When the inferni Hershaw shares his backstory and tells them how in the Wandering Isle people crack Grishas' heads open because they believe that their blood has magical properties, even brash Zoya is appalled and expresses her condolences. Meanwhile all Alina thinks about is herself, that Hershaw sharing his backstory means that he will place his hope for a better world for Grisha in Alina now and how she doesn't want that kind of responsibility.

The point is that Alina never goes through the steps that are required to make a friend, but when she needs one, she always demands to have them there at her beck and call. Otherwise they are a terrible person, a traitor for not being on her side and the Darkling's puppet.

Even the Darkling, who wasn't in the little Palace most of the time, who always traveled across the whole country to various military points to ensure that the borders were controlled, a person who couldn't allow anyone to get close to him, who had to remain professional with everyone, who couldn't let anyone know that he was an amplifier, still had more friends than Alina who he encouraged to make friends. He had his personal guard - the Oprichniki, and a few heartrenders he was close to, like Ivan for example. Alina only has a few Grisha during the trilogy whose names we even find out and she never even checked up on them. When they come to her with their grievances Alina never takes the opportunity to grow closer with them. No, it's always about Mal, who's doing just fine without her but will complain how she's not paying attention to him.

 Now, as for the Darkling, her interactions with him are very open in Shadow and Bone. It's just good communication between them when he was in the little Palace. They talked, Alina wallowed in her insecurities and he actually found her sour humor funny, which was very cute. And he did his best to answer her questions and ease her worries. He literally told her he was over 120 years old, that had been waiting for her for a long time, that he finally felt a connection with someone. And here's the thing: Alina never outwardly rejected his advances. She told him he was no longer alone, that he had her, the damned kiss was consensual. And then Alina runs away with Mal and goes back to every prejudice she initially had about him. What is he supposed to feel? He tries to get her back. And he bargains and shows he's willing to negotiate even after she screwed up his carefully planned coup. He even says that he doesn't mind her thing with Mal because he will die eventually or she will find out that it won't work out with him. The Darkling's primary goal wasn't "manipulating" or "possessing'' Alina, it was saving Ravka from collapsing. But over the next two books, she refuses to look at the big picture and properly address the problems which darkling is trying to fix. If only Alina actually talked to him instead of throwing baseless accusations every five seconds. She could literally call him anytime through the tether, he visited her all the time and she just refused to communicate. If she no longer wanted a relationship with him, she could at least speak to him about serious matters, like avoiding the civil war the country clearly couldn't take.

Her relationship with Nikolai was not genuine. Did it have potential to actually become genuine if they acknowledged each other’s flaws? Yes. But Alina justified Nikolai’s selfish ambitions as him trying to do what’s best for Ravka while never granting the Darkling the same leniency. She is appalled at Darkling’s willingness to kill the Grisha who turned on him after he asked him to not make him to do it and not to start an actual civil war but is okay with Nikolai sacrificing the Grisha loyal to Alina to get himself on the throne. What’s the difference between Nikolai’s and the Darkling’s relationship to Alina? Nikolai presents himself better in order to stay in her good graces. The Darkling is a general, Nikolai is a politician. The Dakling told her how it was, what he had to do, and Alina couldn’t handle the ugly truth. In both Shadow and Bone and Siege and Storm, we see the Darkling call her out numerous times, asking her the real questions: 

Why would she run without giving him a chance to explain himself? (She was still prejudiced against him and didn’t view him as an actual human being even after how much kindness he had shown her)

What was her long-term plan? (She didn’t have one)

Did she really want Mal or Nikolai? (She wasn’t sure)

Nikolai never bothered her with such difficult questions. He was all too glad to prance her around, use her as a political tool, be charming to her and show her a glimpse of a wounded boy with a dream. Funny how fans call the Darkling the manipulator when all he had was a strategy to help Grisha, and yes, for that he needed Alina’s power. He actually risked his plan at the winter fete with his flustered flirting. You’d think he’d be better at it, and perhaps he could be, but he was actually too honest and hopeful too soon.

Meanwhile, Nikolai needed Alina for his image, to strengthen his claim to the throne even though legally he had no right to it. Who is truly the selfish one here? Nikolai kissed her in public without consent and then shoved her into a carriage, practically trapped her in an engagement…Do we really believe he wouldn’t expect her to be involved in politics, uphold their image as King as Queen and for her to birth an heir? The Darkling put a collar on her because she ran away, ignored her duty and responsibilities to her people and her country, and screwed up his carefully planned coup. And because she needed the amplifiers because she didn't train and couldn't to anything without them. I will not hear the degrading “she was just a girl” as an excuse. It’s an explanation, sure, but not an excuse. She was an adult, she was a soldier, and her running away and refusing to cooperate was the equivalent of someone stealing the nuclear codes and the only cure to the land of Chernobyl infested with zombies. She was considered a saint as soon as she was discovered for that very reason, because she was crucial to any sort of plan for Ravka. Nikolai and Darkling have lots of similarities in that regard. They claim everything they do, they do it for Ravka. 

[acourtofthought]

Of course warrior FMCs are also feminine, I don't think that's the issue in this fandom when it comes to hating on certain characters.

The problem seems to be that when a FMC is not a warrior and / or prefers kindness over aggression or abrasiveness, then suddenly she's boring.

Aelin liked music and pretty dresses, but she was never called boring. The other defining trait for her was that she was also an assassin.

For some, Nesta was always interesting even when she initially shunned being a warrior. But honestly, the main defining trait to her character before SF was that she was sort of nasty to most people around her. Yes, she had moments of showing her loyalty and desire to help others but she spent a lot of her time refusing to train, pushed back on helping multiple times until she was pressed on the matter, etc. Outside of trying to go to the wall to find Feyre, she wasn't regularly jumping up and volunteering to help when things were first presented to her. Her stubbornness and aggressive attitude seemed to be entertaining for some.

But it does seem that Elain's gentleness and desire to avoid cruelty / conflict as her defining trait is why people saying she's boring. She has hobbies just the same as the other FMCs, her gardening is no different than Feyre's painting or Nesta's dancing. She actively stepped up on multiple occasions without having to be convinced or coerced (I'd say even more so than Nesta in the first 3.5 books), she treated Feyre's new family with respect even when she feared them, she took blame upon herself for Feyre's time in the woods even though the blame was being placed on someone else, she's repeatedly gone out of her way to demonstrate how much she appreciates Feyre since apologizing. Really, she was JUST as brave as Nesta multiple times throughout the trilogy which can be proven with text and she's shown on multiple occasions that though she has moments of selfishness (as all developed characters have), MANY of her actions have been selfless, where she's putting others before herself yet she's still considered boring even though nothing sets her apart from any other character in the series outside of the fact that she's not a warrior and is not bitchy.

The message seems to be that if you're not a loud, outspoken and aggressive female, you're boring and while Elain being "softer" doesn't make her more "feminine" than anyone else, not being a bad-bitch warrior doesn't make her less girl-boss either.

Misogyny can come in all forms and labeling a FMC who is more reserved or soft spoken as boring even though she's proven to be just as brave as every other warrior female out there is one form.