jazz, 22, u.k. part-time creator of questionable fan fiction and full-time frank castle enthusiast.
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commissions again!!
after about a year of taking some time off, i have decided to re-open my commissions in case anybody wants one. to preface, these are completely unrelated to my normal content and i will never prioritise these or let them detriment my normal fics!!
you can find my commission faqs here and ps feel free to dm if you have any questions!!
#logan x reader#wolverine x reader#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader#steve rogers x reader#sam wilson x reader#natasha romanoff x reader#poe dameron x reader
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i love you im glad you exist im so happy you’re alive
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complex (logan)
summary: honestly i was just listening to complex by katie macleod and i started typing and this is what happened, it's only 800 words but hey-ho.
warnings: arguments, so much swearing, logan is kind of a dick
Your residual anger hung thick in the air like heat in the summer.
Your apartment was full of signs—little reminders of your argument, tiny clues to point to the hurt in your chest. The blankets on the sofa were still tangled from where Logan had slept there last night. There were two empty bottles of whisky beside a smashed plate on the coffee table, matched with angry claw marks where he'd made the wooden structure his victim. Most obviously, you and the man you loved stood on each end of the room and the argument, chests heaving from shouting and fists balled up with rage.
"I fucking hate you," you declared.
"No, you don't," Logan deadpanned, "you hate me right now, but really, you love me."
"Don't," you paused, taking a deep breath, "don't tell me how to feel."
"But you're allowed to tell me how to feel, huh?" he challenged.
There was another strangled sigh in your mouth. You couldn't keep sighing. You needed to come up with something new. Yelling had never been your thing. Maybe Logan's, but not yours. He hadn't even yelled for this entire fight. There had been heated exchanges, sure, but even in his most frustrated moments, he hadn't dared raise his voice. He had that much self-control.
"I can't look at you," your eyes fell to the floor.
Logan let out a snort. "Can't look at me, huh? Can't look me in the eye?"
This whole thing had started because the furry fucking moron had said something stupid. Then, he'd made it even worse when you'd pointed it out. It was like Logan had brought himself a proverbial shovel and was rewarding himself by digging a hole. He was ten feet down, and he couldn't see anything, save if he looked up and saw you glancing down at him with bleary eyes in his self-sustained grave. You could have reached down your hand to help him out but it was too far.
"Fuck. You."
Your chest heaved as you shoved past him, shoulders hitting his with a thud. Logan had barely even processed what had happened before the bedroom door slammed in his face. The force caused a picture on the shelf beside it to fall, the glass smashing into three separate pieces. He leant down to pick it up, turning the frame over. It was a picture of you at Coney Island two years ago; the wind was blowing your hair back, faced pressed to Logan's as he scowled. They were sweeter times.
Logan glanced up at the ceiling - or the sky, whatever the closest thing is.
"Whoever the fuck is up, that's not fucking funny."
He stopped at the door.
To say his heart broke when he heard you crying on the other side would be an understatement. There was a lot of sounds that Logan hated; his ring tone, his alarm sound in the morning, Wade Wilson's voice...but above all, the sound of you crying felt like a punch to the throat. It was even worse for him to know that he was the one who caused it.
Logan didn't stop before he opened the door. He booted it, body crossing the room in seconds to meet you at the bed. You were curled up, hugging his pillow to your chest and crying into yours.
He fell to his knees beside you, warm hands pulling your arms away from your face and towards him instead. A pair of strong arms came to wrap around you and in seconds, you were pressed to his chest.
"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, "don't cry. Please don't cry. Punch me, slap me, fuckin' kill me if you want but please don't cry."
A little sob escaped your throat. "You're so frustrating."
"I know," Logan gave you a small smile, "christ, I know. And I am so fucking sorry."
He re-centred you on the bed, organising the pillows so that they were behind you. The mattress dipped beside you as he climbed under the covers, pulling you back into his side. You were still glaring at him, still refusing to throw you a ladder down his special grave.
"I let my anger get the best of me sometimes," Logan said, "maybe I don't shout at you or get angry the way I do at other people, but it...it manifests in more fucked up ways, I think. I like arguing. I love riling people up. I don't like doing that to you, though."
"You did, though."
"I know, sweetheart, I know," he murmured. "I'm trying my best. I know my best is absolute bullshit but...I am trying."
You tangled your fingers with his, giving his hand a squeeze. "I know. It's okay if you want to keep trying."
Logan softly smiled, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I love you."
"I love you too."
#logan x reader#logan howlett x reader#wolverine x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan imagine#logan imagines#logan howlett angst#logan fan fiction#wolverine fan fiction#logan howlett fan fiction
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"maybe you'll feel it, too" -best friends to lovers prompts
a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ
lingering hugs and stares
"you know i'm always going to be there for you, right? always."
compliments that are borderline (sometimes just blatant) flirting but they cover it up as just being a really supportive friend
^ "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell..."
being overly protective of the other (especially when it comes to relationships)
showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them (ex. kissing each other on the cheek/ hands)
hand placement when hugging or guiding them also being a little more on the questionable side
"i'm always thinking about you."
being unable to tear their eyes off of them, especially when watching them excel at something they're best at
sharing clothes
"why are you looking at me like that?"
unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around
"there's no one else that makes me laugh the way you do."
noticing them blushing coincidentally after making a comment. but they can't be blushing because of what they said. they wouldn't. would they? no, of course not...right?
holding hands and neither of them knowing when (or wanting to) let go
when that realization hits that they really wouldn't rather spend their time with anyone else the way they do with their "best friend"
rambling on and on and on and wait are they looking at my eyes or my lips?
"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."
"can i kiss you?" "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you ask that."
the relief that washes over both of them when the feelings are finally out there
"why didn't you tell me?" "the same reason you didn't tell me. i didn't want to lose you."
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i remember being 15 years old when trump first got elected and i shared a post on my old blog saying how sorry i was for my american followers. and now here i am, at 23 years old, saying the same AGAIN.
it’s absolutely beyond fucked. thinking of you all - women, poc, trans people, any minority that feels fear because of todays results - and i sincerely hope everyone is safe and okay. my inbox is always open if anyone needs to talk xx
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interrupting my hiatus to show you all the princess leia costume i diy’d today
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ok look say what you want about liam payne in recent years but my mind immediately went to this post
There's going to come a day when we've all grown up, had a career, maybe got married and had kids, when were all going about our daily routine. Maybe you're driving to work with the car radio on, or you're making dinner with the tv on in the lounge. Life as usual, and then we hear a name. It's the name of the person you had a blog dedicated to when you were 16. The person you had posters of up on your bedroom wall, or as your desktop background. The person off that show you used to watch every week, as soon as it came out, or that band you used to love. The person from the cast of a movie that changed your life, or the character who you scrolled through page after page of fanfiction of. You haven't heard that name in a long time, and it brings everything back. And then the name is followed by three words you thought you'd never hear. Has Passed Away. And then you put down the potato peeler and lean back against your kitchen bench, or you pull over to the side of the road, and tears are streaming down your face. And all over the world, there are people who used to be just like you, with tears marking their cheeks and sobs forcing their way out of their throat, because they remember. Because fandoms never really die out. We never really move on. We never really forget.
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"maybe you'll feel it, too" -best friends to lovers prompts
a prompt list by @novelbear ᵔᴥᵔ
lingering hugs and stares
"you know i'm always going to be there for you, right? always."
compliments that are borderline (sometimes just blatant) flirting but they cover it up as just being a really supportive friend
^ "you sure this looks fine?" "trust me, you look fine as hell..."
being overly protective of the other (especially when it comes to relationships)
showing displays of affection that might seem questionable to others around them (ex. kissing each other on the cheek/ hands)
hand placement when hugging or guiding them also being a little more on the questionable side
"i'm always thinking about you."
being unable to tear their eyes off of them, especially when watching them excel at something they're best at
sharing clothes
"why are you looking at me like that?"
unconsciously including them in conversation when they're not even around
"there's no one else that makes me laugh the way you do."
noticing them blushing coincidentally after making a comment. but they can't be blushing because of what they said. they wouldn't. would they? no, of course not...right?
holding hands and neither of them knowing when (or wanting to) let go
when that realization hits that they really wouldn't rather spend their time with anyone else the way they do with their "best friend"
rambling on and on and on and wait are they looking at my eyes or my lips?
"if we were dating i'd take you to all the best places.." "what's stopping you?" "excuse me."
"can i kiss you?" "you have no idea how long i've waited to hear you ask that."
the relief that washes over both of them when the feelings are finally out there
"why didn't you tell me?" "the same reason you didn't tell me. i didn't want to lose you."
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my local odeon was playing a new hope tonight for some reason and i went to see it and i’ve seen the og trilogy in cinema before and it was literally mind blowing
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maybe i will write today?? if anyone wants to some hcs for preferences or a blurb please crack on
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hey! this is random but I just wanted to thank you for introducing me to paramore and hayley williams!! i came across them from one of your posts 2 years back and I've loved them since. last year I got a tattoo inspired by hayley williams' album FFV cuz it helped me through a tough time in my life, so i just wanted to thank you for unintentionally changing my life <3
THIS HAS LEGIT MADE MY DAY I JUST LOGGED IN TO REBLOG SOME PEDRO PASCAL GIFS AND THIS CAME UP
i am so so so happy you found paramore through me, that genuinely is amazing😭 i think they've been favourite band for 12?? maybe years now and i will never shut up about how much i love them, or hayley's solo stuff. they genuinely mean SO much to me and i am so very glad they've had a positive influence on your life too!! i have three paramore tattoos, a huuuuge one i recently got with some lyrics from crave and it's got a skeleton and i LOVE it bc that song is my soul anthem lol. if you wanna chat on private i would love love love to see your tattoo. ❤️
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well, you see, the thing is: (instead of finishing my sentence i curl up comfortably in bed and go to sleep
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i have never successfully articulated anything ever but i got very close, once
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This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.
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the trick to a good insult is sort of talking around it and making them think so that it hits harder when they realize what you’re talking about
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