#I’m never going to use this feature
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Great so tumblr live did that thing where it randomly pops back up, so I went to turn it off as per usual, and lo and behold I can’t. I’ve never opened it, it’s always turned off, and I tried exiting out of the app a couple of times and everything. It’s still there. Just a heads up if this happens to anyone else.
#staff#I can see you’ve extended it to 30 days now#one of the appeals of this site is that I am not having to show myself or be treated like a commodity#if this site isn’t that anymore there’s literally no fucking point I can sell my face to tiktok or instagram#go ahead and get this shit off my tumblr hmm?#I’m never going to use this feature
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One of the biggest things that makes me see Leo as trans is absolutely the size of his carapace in comparison to his brothers’.
And I’m not talking about height! I’m specifically looking at his shell here, because when you compare him to the others, particularly Donnie who is nearly the same height as Leo, it’s very clear that Leo’s carapace is much longer in proportion to the rest of his body.
Like - standing side by side, even though Donnie is shorter his carapace ends noticeably higher up than Leo’s does. And I like this not only because it really helps push the idea that Leo could very likely be trans (or intersex!), but it’s also just a fun design difference between them.
(It also lends way to future scenarios of Donnie eventually getting taller than Leo, but sitting down still has Leo being the taller one haha.)
#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt leo#trans leonardo#rottmnt headcanons#rise leo#trans leo#it’s like 4 am and I’m having trans leo feelings again sorry guys#totally get if other people disagree with me on this! but it’s always gonna be my no.1 headcanon fr#his complexion the vibrancy of his colors staying even in adulthood his general demeanor and this? this hc is LOCKED in my brain#plus the times Leo’s depicted in pink white and blue throughout the series like I KNOW it wasn’t on purpose but damn if it doesn’t help#(his nails are also the exact same as his toe nails/claws but I don’t super count this one tbh)#(even though it is TECHNICALLY another point in favor of trans leo)#(mainly because all the boys’ nails are very much more humanoid than turtle)#(just like how their tails aren’t really a factor either since we see them only in their baby forms and never again)#I really like the idea that he was a female red eared slider pre mutation#and Lou Jitsu’s dna paved how his humanoid features came out (aka a more masculine build and voice)#but his turtle features are all very much more in like with a female res#love the thought of rise bros meeting og comic turtle boys and Leo being like wait you guys are res too?? but…you’re not colorful……#one headcanon I have is that - you know the cute chirping and stuff we have the boys do?#I like to think that Leo’s chirping actually sounds more feminine to himself and his bros (so he tends to not do it)#idk I love thinking about this hc a lot and there’s no time like four am to talk about it huh?#future scenario has future Donnie going up to future Leo all smug like ah Nardo how’s the weather down there#and Leo’s all like good *sits down* why don’t you join me :)#Donnie: …*sits and stretches his neck out to be taller still*#Leo calls him a cheater but Donnie calls it ‘making use of his species’s advantages’#but yeah basically for many turtles the case is - bigger carapace? female. smaller carapace? male.#so it’s very interesting to take that knowledge and apply it here#did you know one of the turtles that this rule of thumb DOESNT apply to is alligator snapping turtles? male ones are the bigger ones there!#by a big difference too so Raph’s size makes a LOT of sense
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got the posting anxiety bad tonight
#click clack#ok a peak into my thought process and anxiety here we go#ok so the art is almost done and up to standard I would post onto my art blog#BUT for some reason the thought of posting art of my ocs there scares me#because even tho it’s my art blog in my mind it’s the equivalent to a art gallery that demands being detached????? from the art#like once I share it there it’s no longer ‘mine’ but to the public#and my ocs (plus the stories that go with them) are like the closest to my heart and relinquishing them feels like a lot#a part of my imagination that I spent so much time with developing over the years to be placed up for judgement…#so then the solution could be to put it here on my personal! the online space cozy enough and filled with other posts that could easily bury#the original posts I put here#but there goes my other dilemma. i don’t want them too associated with my personal for if one day i do muster up something for publication#my big fear is that ppl will find this space and go thru everything. the fear of being perceived and judged 😵💫#all the hypotheticals and anxiety for something that may not even happen#dumb mind problems my head made up 🙄#anyway writing it out helped lol I’m posting it to my art blog I decided 👍#I have to work on getting that blog to be comfortable space to post… i should lower that silly self imposed standard I set for myself#and be whatever about ppl being aware of my online presences#maybe… [grinding my teeth] I should post my messy sketches onto my art blog…#I should take my friends suggestion and make a website to feature my ocs…🤔#idk my only other solution that doesn’t feel viable to mitigate the anxiety is to slowly introduce my ocs in the background of setting art#just a slow drip until they are in the forefront#bleghhh whatever much ado about nothing it’s like I never posted my ocs ever when I have indeed posted them before on both places ( º_º )#I’m realizing it happens too when I post too much fanart in a row… I have curator disease??? 🫨#or something I used to be very particular about what order I reblog stuff like it used to be by color and content balanced out#I still do to a lesser degree… but it used to be pretty bad#post order compulsion????#the fear of being abrupt and incohesive in between posts…#if you read this far thanks you can now see how much this consumes me 🙃
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Me trying to figure out how to draw side profiles
#also needed to just make sure that the way I try to draw them actually looks normal every time#instead of it being like#hey wow this actually looks good I like the way I drew this one#oops I’m never going to be able to replicate that ever again#also im just trying to make sure the technique im using works with diverse facial features#having every single side profile look the same when characters have different face shapes from any other angle would be bad#side profile#sketching#art study#art practice#heads#idk how to tag this
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i still stand by bp being a really useful and cool currency for all the stuff you can get with it but mannnnnnnnn it really is like oh so you want to do literally anything in the dlc beyond the main story? enjoy running all over creation in the terarium doing the most random stuff for hours on end lol
#they really need to add an in-game album feature#very tired of having to go through my switch’s camera roll to delete a dozen random safari adventure nature documentary photographs lol#also the ones where you have to tera your pokémon to defeat a wild mon are so funny#this feels like overkill i don’t think this random baby doduo deserves it-#also: the stealth backstrike ones.#i have not touched the zr button like this entire game.#or the crouch button for that matter#i just bump into wild pokémon if i wanna fight.#i never find it worth it just for an advantage at the start of battle#meanwhile in pla i am always doing that#but now in this dlc i’m forced to actually crouch and sneak and backstrike#and it’s got me like huh i guess this is actually pretty useful#the sv dlc experience
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*puts a photo of me in between two random photos i took of the sky today, not because they go together whatsoever but simply so any poor soul that happens to scroll across this post won’t be jumpscared by one giant image of me taking up their entire dash* :)
also yes those are the Everything Stays shoes that i wear far too often and i thought about Moon and flustered my damn self when i was putting them on today and if you want to know why i thought of him specifically… well, you’re just gonna have to read Ch. 4 of ES when i post it on Thursday and you’ll find out 😊
#Seven.txt#my face#i love how i use the my face tag as my catch-all selfie tag and then. you can hardly even see my face in the pics#anyways. *wears my daycare fit to my root canal appointment bc i am a fucking clown for letting my tooth get this bad* 🙃#also it’s just very comfortable and i like it. but yeah! 4th dentist appt. out of 7 is done and dusted!!!#yes it’s 7 now instead of 6 because of course it is. of course it is.#it’s fine tho. i think today was the worst of it and it was overall a very fine time! i once again had no need for the sickening amounts#of anxiety that kicked my ass for the last two days prior to the appointment. as soon as i got settled in the chair that weird haze#of Calm washed over me and everything went well! but does my anxiety care about that? does it learn? no! never!#so i’m sure i’ll be sick with fear again the next three times as well but oh well. what can i do but suffer thru it#anyways if u wanna know what burning trees smell like and hear a disconcerting sizzling noise coming from ur mouth just get a root canal#it’s fun it’s a really great sensory experience (/i am Lying it is Not a fun sensory experience. take care of ur teeth and avoid the pain)#it’s lighthearted though it’s really not That bad. like i could tolerate it totally fine but it’s also not. fun. it’s just. Unplesant#anyways on another note i think i’m developing a crush on my dentist’s assistant lmao#like not Really but like also that’s not a complete joke. like. do u ever meet someone and just feel like you’d be friends#like it’s not something you’ll ever act on but you can’t ignore the feeling regardless?#it’s wild bc they look So fucking similar to someone i used to have a brief weird thing going with#like they both have such distinct eyes/facial features that i’ve never really seen on a lot of other people#and they compliment my hair and i compliment their tattoos and they tell me about the latest movies they’ve watched while i’m laying there#in the dentist chair for 50 minutes waiting for the dentist to finish with an unexpected drop-in patient#and they open the blinds to see what the deal is with the screaming old people outside the windows and they crack jokes and ramble about#their travel plans and they struggle to mix the temporary filling paste into the right consistency and they apologize for their handwriting#on the appointment cards they give me and i tell them it’s good handwriting and i mean it and Oh No i’m romanticizing my dentist visits.#aren’t i. lmao ANYWAYS i’m that dumbass that falls for every single person that is ever nice to me at all ever it’s fine i’m normal#the dentist delay was nbd btw i’m one of those freaks that actually enjoys waiting and also it was a bit of an emergency#for this mennonite mom and her son with an abscessed tooth so like who could be mad abt that#i’m never making another afternoon appt. again tho cause holy shit they get busy. i was in the waiting room for 30mins alone#1hr appt. turned into a 2.5hr appt. :) but it’s fine i just read fanfic on my phone to pass the time. and you’d think it was a dca fic#based on my clothes but no it was BG3 Astarion x Reader Hurt/Comfort bc i’ve latched onto a new blorbo this week and can’t get enough#so i’m obsessed with this traumatized vampire elf now but that’s a story for a different post’s tags
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VIOLENCE AND BLOOD AND MAKING EVERYBODY MAD. 1, 19, and 25 >:)
SAE 0W-20. Oh oops. Wrote this in notes app so. Here, have my car’s motor oil flavor
Anyway I think I’ll do ace attorney bc that’s the one I’ve been Most aware of its fandom
1 — character everyone gets wrong
There are several,,, but the ones that peeve me the most are Maya and Franziska
Maya’s often flattened into memester burger queen comedic relief who dispenses Romantic advice to make nrmt happen. It’s such a waste when she’s got So much happening and is pretty damn smart
Similarly, Franziska is sidelined even More and is reduced to Angry Meanie and also a prop to encourage nrmt. I find that the average franziska portrayal is really one-note and is just like “Haha she says fool and whips people” which sucks bc again she has So much unexplored complexity in the games And in fandom that people wouldn’t hesitate to explore if she were a male character instead
And also these tend to combine into really boring franmaya just to make sunshine/grump happen. Or again, they’re off to the side or used only as a vehicle for nrmt development.
Or like… I’ve seen ppl think Maya was head over heels for Franziska from Day One like. No??? Wtf? I think Maya had More Important Things on her mind than like. “Ooh that person prosecuting me is kinda hot👀”
I can’t even elaborate Too much bc I’d be here all day but. Also criminally misportrayed is Phoenix. He is not uwu sunshine bleeding heart heart on his sleeve. And neither is Ryuunosuke.
Ok one more salt. Temenos OctopathTraveler2 wasn’t Madly In Love with Crick. Also he is Not as horny/flirty as many are portraying him as…. He outright said staves don’t need sheaths smh my head
19 — smth I’m mad/ashamed I actually kinda like
My lawyer says I don’t have to answer this question
(jk)
Idk if Shame/anger is the word for it. But I want to study kristoph under a microscope and also purposefully zoom in too far so that he gets crushed when the long magnifier breaks the slide glass
It’s more like… I don’t want to be associated w people who like genuinely think he was just misunderstood 🥺 uwuuu he was in WUV, he had a bad childhood. or the opposite, with ppl who go a lot darker in their interpretation bc that’s just not smth I want to think about
Cuz like. Obviously this guy fucking sucks and I hate him but also he’s sooooo pathetic that it’s funny
And also I think it’s interesting to think about like, what being friends (or “friends”) with someone like that for Seven Years does to Phoenix. Bc I lov putting that man through the wringer ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
25 — common fandom complaint sick of hearing
Any apologism and vehement defense of shitty male characters lol
Godot’s shitty condescending misogynistic remark at franziska wasn’t a mistranslation. He calls her a shrew/unruly woman, basically says “that’s enough princess, it’s adult time” (notably using “-Chan”, where Phoenix calls her Von Karma Kenji [“prosecutor von karma”]). This line was translated to “But you can go now, princess. It's time for the big boys to take the reins.” So like…. Where’s the misinterpretation 🤨
And also he says “I don’t like talkative women”. There might be more nuance there that google translate can’t capture but like. That’s Still a sexist thing to say.
Just admit ur horny for godot and don’t care about women
Mvk doesn’t have lead poisoning; he’s an emotionally abusive parent and shitty person. Like u don’t even have to squint at the games to come to that conclusion. Kin memories and brainless analysis won’t disprove that. Sometimes abusers can even do nice things or genuinely love someone, but that doesn’t mean they’re not abusive
Barok van Zieks doesn’t have a Redemption arc from his Constant Indefensible Racism. You clowns are just horny and have bad taste.
#me thinking abt fandom bs: for one dollar care about a woman#very glad I replaced Twitter with a crossword habit bc now I see 100% fewer bad opinions#and unfortunately the block feature on here [I never use desktop. too lazy so no xkit] doesn’t stop me from seeing rbs of their posts#or their rb commentary on someone else’s post#but Bad Opinions always find a way to surface#and lbr we will never see the end of sexism in fandom in this lifetime#I’m going to go for a little walk now
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i hate capitalism i miss reddit i need it for niche videogame information PLEASE COMEBACK
#me hmmm what did those stars from the final world in kh3 say to sora#the first search answer is a reddit thread for the kh community#AND ITS CLOSED#FUCK#i should’ve joined the kh community by now but whatever#kh#kingdom hearts#reddit#MY NICHE INFORMATION?#when my streaming sites go down i will truly never recover cause i use reddit to find them#i’m always having computer issues and without yahoo answers who will give me 7 year old tips#QUORA? AND THEIR SHITTY SIGN IN FEATURE#reddit is bad well yes but it’s also good!!#i need them for niche mobile game tips im gonna throw up#my friend was like you should listen to this reddit thread to study#ITS GONE#KYAAAA
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Normalize making pmvs based off days you’ve had two years ago
#okay so story/background idk#this is based off the time a few novembers ago me and my family moved my grandmother into assisted living#she’s been suffering from dementia for a really long time and it got to a point where we had to change#her living arrangement in the nursing home#it’s a really weird feeling because how she is right now is the way I’ve known and remembered her for most of my life#and both versions of my grandmother my parents bring up all the time#it’s a weird experience to be compared to her a lot and have them worry about her a lot and expect you to feel the exact same when all you#go off are what other people say#and vauge memories of your early childhood#and her belongings#it’s not that I don’t love my grandmother it’s just feels like I’m mourning a person I never properly knew#idk I hope this pmv communicates that.#if not idc it was still fun to do.#black dog isn’t even my fav ajj song I was just listening to it a lot during that time#everything featured in the drawings of her home are things she owned irl#she used to collect little pig sculptures :)
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hahahhahahha like I said. help me.
i am Curious. also, if it's more than 200 could you pretty please say in the tags how many drafted posts you have?
#I’m in hell I HAVE SUCH A PROBLEM#the reason it’s so bad is bc I use it like a bookmark feature except I’m also horrible at actually going back and reblogging things#so like only 20%ish of the things I save to ‘bookmark’ actually get reblogged#so of course this enormous pile of drafts builds up#and I’ve been doing it for YEARS now so. that’s why it’s Like That#it’s just this endless pit now that everything gets lost in and I will never have the motivation to clean out 😭😭😭😭
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🎉 Join us as we celebrate the 30th Anniversary Music Festival at Saint Arnold Brewing Company! 🍻 Enjoy an all-day extravaganza featuring top Houston musicians like Kam Franklin, Devin the Dude, Robert Ellis, and more. Special limited-edition beers, local vendors, and a fantastic community vibe await you. Don’t miss out on this epic event! #SaintArnoldBrewing #30thAnniversary #HoustonMusicFest
#Saint Arnold Brewing Company is celebrating its 30th anniversary in the style. Houston’s oldest craft brewery will toast itself with an all-#the company worked with Houston’s Splice Records and Kam Franklin#lead singer and founder of The Suffers#to recruit the lineup. Joining Franklin on the bill will be rapper Devin the Dude#singer-songwriter Robert Ellis#and hip hop artist Fat Tony. Splice Records is also contributing three of its artists: R&B act Bayou City Funk#DJ Shante#and the Blue Heron Yacht Club. The night will end with all four headliners teaming up to perform as The Houston Super Group in a never-been#and Ellis appeared on stage at the 25th. Both hip hop artists are performing at the brewery for the first time. Courtesy of Saint Arnold Br#its people#the culture and the limitless creative potential that exists here#” Franklin said in a statement. “I’ve invited old and new collaborators to be a part of this evening with me#and I’m grateful to everyone involved for trusting me to lead this. It’s going to be a beautiful night in our city.” From humble beginning#Saint Arnold has established itself as a Houston institution. Over 30 years#it has released more than 100 beers#including staples such as Amber Ale#Art Car IPA#Lawnmower#and the new Grand Prize lager. “It’s such a privilege to celebrate 30 years of brewing beer in Houston#” Saint Arnold founder and owner Brock Wagner said. “The support Houstonians and the craft beer industry have shown us is immeasurable. We h#limited-edition beers throughout the day and a market featuring local vendors. Houstonian John Mills-McCoin will be the festival’s emcee an#Saint Arnold has been allowing us to enjoy their work of golden#sudsy perfection#” Mills-McCoin said. “It’s an absolute honor and privilege to be a part of this event and to show my appreciation for the National Beer of H#a 30th Anniversary glass#four beers#and a dinner buffet. Parking passes are available for $20. The beer garden’s kitchen and tap wall will be open all day with food and drinks#festival#music#craft beer
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I gave one of my ao3 invite codes to my brother today. It has taken him so long, but I think he’s finally abandoning ff.net
He says he’s not and he just wants the dark mode option, but I know it’s a matter of time now
#he said he should get an invitation on the 15th and I said ???? I have been trying to get you to switch for so long I can give you a code#though to be fair a lot of older fandoms don’t have as much activity on ao3 as ff.net even still#and I’m by no means saying fanfiction on ff.net are bad some of my favorites ever are still only there#but this man has just flat out refused to give archive any sort of chance#‘I don’t like the search features it’s too much’#listen you just gotta get used to it and you’ll never be willing to go back
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The Worst Logan
Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 5.8k words
Summary: You are the deceased-anchor-being-Logan's lover, having found yourself with Laura in the void, you navigate meeting the variant of the love of your life. Sweet dick kicking angst with gratuitous smut, cause we all know Logan eats pussy like a CHAMP. 😤
This is self indulgence at its finest, but it had be to done. 7-years ago, the movie Logan broke something within me that has finally been fixed! 🤠💕
Warning: Explicit - smut. canon death, depression, angst, spoilers for Logan / Wolverine and deadpool, cunnilingus, unprotected p in v, creampie, all the good stuff. 18+
The first time you see him again, the new him, the other him you mean. It’s in the cave accompanied by a man who talks far too much.
You recognise his voice in an instant when the mouth finally allows him to get a word in edgeways. His voice.
You’ve heard it nearly every night for the past seven years. It's a few octaves deeper than you remember and filled to the brim with vitriol but it's definitely his. The realisation that your memory has been warped by time is a blow to the gut but you continue towards the sound all the same.
When finally you round the corner Logan stands before you in all his glory. For a moment you are rendered utterly unable to form a single sentence as he leans against the wall, a bottle of bourbon in his palm and adorned in yellow and blue.
Your mind can't reconcile this figure as the man you buried. He has the same sneer, the same broad shoulders, he even has the same stance - but Logan, your Logan, would rather die than wear that garish yellow suit and admit to being the hero he always was.
His nose flares in what you believe to be recognition as he smells your presence, you allow your powers to retreat and reveal yourself. As your invisibility ebbs away Logan snarls in surprise as the talkative man in red gasps theatrically and begins jumping on the spot.
Your fears are proven well founded when your eyes connect with his across the room, instead of the love and recognition, you find only open hostility and rage.
Your heart had bulldozed all logic, you were in the fucking void, of course it was a variant.
This Logan looks younger; his hair not so grey, his face unscarred and his eyes not so tired.
This not-quite-Logan stares right back at you seemingly ill at ease with the stranger who is currently taking an inventory of his face.
“Logan, that's them. It’s X-23 and Y/N, the one’s I told you about.” You graze your palm along your daughter's back in support as you come to stand beside her.
“Her name is Laura.” It’s a knee jerk reaction; your correction. Your girl wasn’t the sum total of an experiment, she was her own person with her own thoughts and feelings, not a weapon to be utilised.
The Wolverine’s gaze darts between the two of you, it’d be comical if you didn’t feel like you were about to regurgitate your lunch. They land on Laura, and linger there for a few moments, before they return to you, it's as if he’s trying to find you in her features.
You barely hear the man you will later come to know fondly as Wade Wilson, question how you all ended up in the void.
“There was a knock at the door TVA sent me here, saying my world was dying … and I never even got the chance to fight for it.” Blade explains remorsefully.
“They sent us here because they knew we’d put up a fight.” You utter distractedly, finally breaking your staring contest with Logan as he takes a swig from the bottle he’s currently white knuckling.
“People like us don’t go quietly, TVA knows that so they took us out.” Elektra attests.
“The answer is yes, I’m in.” Wade declares.
“In what?” Blade questions bemused by the man in red.
“A team up, you me, me you, all of us together, lets get the fuck outta’ here.”
“Don’t listen to him, he’s a fucking liar!” Logan growls, furious at the other man.
“It was an educated wish!”
“HA!” The loathing behind it makes you pause, he was so angry.
The heat in his voice, the resentment, it burns you. You supposed even your Logan had his fair share of rage.
When he arrived at the mansion all those years ago, fresh faced and wild, you had adored him even then, though Logan was far too preoccupied with Jean to notice the torch you carried for him back then.
It was ironic that It had taken the utter annihilation of the X-Men to bring you together. Charles’ accident had left the two of you as sole survivors. Over the years in hiding your ability to mould force fields managed to keep the worst of the effects of Charles’ seizures at bay, but Charles Xavier was one of the most powerful telepaths to grace the earth and your powers had limits.
Those years were some of the darkest and yet the best of your life, you found yourself growing to love the man the world called The Wolverine.
You realise you’ve entirely tuned out Wade’s rousing speech and have spent the time analysing the man wearing your love’s face currently gargling bourbon though your name pulls you out of your reverie.
“Laura, Y/N? What’s it gonna’ be girlies?”
“Lets fucking go.” Laura agrees heartily, you simply nod still dazed.
“YES! LET’S FUCKING GO!” Wade shouts back fist pumping.
“You’re all fucking dead.”
Much later in the evening when the sun has finally set you seek him out. When you come across the father and daughter duo before the campfire you hold back, your skin slowly begins reflecting light, fading from vision as you call upon your powers to hide in the treeline.
They both needed this and it wasn’t something you were about to get in the way of. They talk for a little while, before they part ways, both a little teary. Laura nods your way despite being unable to see you as she heads back to the cave, her nose just as keen as her fathers.
So it shouldn’t surprise you a few moments later when you hear Logan's voice call across the clearing.
“You gonna’ stand there all night, Bub?” The man sounds utterly exhausted.
You say nothing in response, only dismissing your powers and revealing yourself as you advance. You take Laura’s seat at the fire, not quite having the courage to look at him just yet.
“You hear all that? Should mind your own damn business.” You remembered this Logan well, the one aching for a fight, desperate to shed his vulnerability and bloody his fists.
“I didn’t hear a thing, Logan.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, you haven’t had to gentle parent The Wolverine in a while but it’s like riding a bike. “I wanted to let the two of you talk, she needed it and I think maybe you did too.”
“What do you fuckin’ know.” He growls dismissively, swigging from his bottle of what now appears to be scotch. “You can skip the speech and go back up, I’m not looking for company.”
“I’m not here to tell you what to do, Logan.” Finally, you look away from the fire and find his eyes fixed on you, you swallow the lump in your throat before you speak. “I just wanted to see you.”
“See me?” He questions incredulously. “Well, keep the change, bub. Good night.”
Despite your smile at his words, you can’t help the tears that begin to cloud your eyes. Your mind and your heart have been locked in a constant battle since setting eyes on him. This man by all rights is Logan. The man you have mourned relentlessly and yet in every way that matters he isn’t.
“It’s like seeing a ghost.” Is the only explanation you can give him, his response is a stoic cheers with his bottle before he takes a deep gulp.
Finally either his curiosity or the alcohol gets the better of him as he questions. “You her Mother?”
“Yes and no.” His stare doesn’t leave your face as he waits for you to elaborate. “Her biological mother was a woman from Mexico City that the fuckers in the lab exploited, all we know is that she disappeared after giving birth. After … you … after everything that happened in North Dakota…” You trail off.
Your voice is suddenly thick and your words get stuck in your throat as you try to make them form. It's utterly embarrassing as you feel the traitor tears begin to form.
A bottle of Johnny Walker enters your field of vision from where you sit staring at your clasped hands in your lap. Startled, you glance up to find the Wolverine standing before you, casting an impossibly large shadow as he holds out the bottle.
You accept the offering from his gloved hand, your fingers grazing his in the transaction as you take a swig or two (or three) before passing it back. He looks thoughtful when he places his lips on the place where your own had just lingered, as he retakes his seat. With amber courage coursing your veins, you continue.
“She was all I had - if not for her, I-.” You wipe your nose, staring back into the fire. If it was a struggle to meet his eyes before, it was impossible for you now. “I just couldn’t see the point in being alive anymore if everything just slowly gets stripped away; the X-Men, then Charles and then Lo-”
You don’t know it, but you’re preaching to the fucking choir with your words. It was rare to find a soul, going through the exact same torture as yourself. Logan found himself softening to you, it was as involuntary as it was unwelcome, but he couldn’t help it as you described a battle so close to the one he fought daily.
“-she reminded me what I had to live for. Laura she is fierce and so fucking kind; she is everything I loved about him.” You cut your trauma dumping to a swift end as you remember yourself. “So no, to answer your question. I’m not her biological mother, but she’s my daughter in every way that counts.”
Silence reigns for a moment as neither one of you knows what to say to the other.
“You loved him?” Logan’s voice is deeper than before when he speaks the sentence. You raise your eyes from the fire to find his for the first time since you began monologuing. They’re filled with something you can’t quite name.
“I did.”
Logan seems to contemplate this, mulling it over as he continues drinking. Finally, he seems to reach some sort of conclusion. “You should get some sleep, big day for you tomorrow.”
“Can I stay here … with you for tonight?” The words slip out before you really even mean them to. Tomorrow you might be going to your death and the ghost of the love of your life is here alive and real, what do you really have to lose?
Logan does a double take, not quite expecting those to be the words that leave your lips. “I’m not him, Darlin’.”
“No, I suppose you’re not.” You sigh, “but could you please just hold me whilst I sleep, James?”
A huge part of you expects him to tell you to fuck off back to the cave and leave him to his booze fueled pity party. However, against all odds, he doesn’t do that.
Logan simply lifts the half full bottle of scotch to his lips and downs every last drop. He’s a little unsteady on his feet when finally he stands up to his full height and turns towards the blankets he’s laid out on the ground.
“Fuck it.” He growls and drops himself like a sack of potatoes onto the pile with little regard for his own body. You’ve certainly had nicer invitations into his bed but when he waves you over with a lazy gesture, you can’t help but hurry before he changes his mind.
Before you know it you’re tucked into Logan’s side. His gloved hand doesn’t quite seem to know where to go, more accustomed to brutality than tenderness these days as it hesitates for a moment suspended in the air. After some careful consideration he delicately places it on the dip in your waist securing you to him.
Logan’s breath is uneven, though he’s doing his best to seem unaffected by your closeness. It has been years since someone has touched him with such easy affection and the way your body curls around his own as if it was created to do just that is driving him crazy.
You are completely at ease with him, you trust him so entirely it almost breaks his fucking heart. Logan's stomach is heavy with something he can’t name, you fucking terrify him. Yet, he doesn’t move because you feel so fucking good as he holds you.
It's scary, you realise, how easy it would be to pretend this was your Logan as you melt into his embrace. He smells exactly the same as you bury your face in his neck, the roughness of his beard feels the same pressed against your forehead.
This Wolverine’s arms are a little fuller and his chest a little firmer, but he still holds you the same. You make a decision to not focus on such difficult philosophical concepts as variants and the morality of switching out your Wolverine. You decide to live in the moment, to just enjoy the furnace of his body keeping you warm and his arm encircling your waist protecting you from the world, it’s so easy to pretend that this was your Logan, so you do.
And you fall asleep quicker than you have in years.
It is still night when you awaken, it's not quite dawn but the fire has burned out to a low smoulder. You’re not sure what has awoken you from the best sleep you’ve had in a long while, that is until you feel the arms wrapped around you and the sleeping Wolverine holding you in a death grip against his chest, his half hard appendage digging into your hip.
Everything is still hazy; you’re floating in that sweet spot between waking and dreaming, you forget about North Dakota and, god forgive me, Laura.
You’re back in your bed at home and Logan is holding you.
There's no my logan, new logan, old logan.
He’s just Logan.
You bury yourself deeper in his neck.
It’s only for a moment though before it all comes flooding back and the agony overwhelms you like a blade to the gut.
Instantly tears flood your cheeks as you shake from your silent sobs.
“...Y/N?” Logan's voice is thick with confusion and sleep, his grip has loosened somewhat to allow you to breathe but he doesn’t release his hold on you. “What’s wrong darlin’?”
That affectionate name is the last nail in the coffin it fucking ends you.
All teary, and regrettably maybe a teensy bit snotty, you lean forward and kiss him. Kiss isn’t the right word but it’s your intention. Your lips touch one anothers before he’s pulling away and holding you back.
“Y/n… Darlin’ you don’t want this… I’m not-”
“But you are Logan. You’re him just as much as he’s you.” Your hands rise to his jaw, running your finger along its familiar sharp edge. “You’re Logan.”
“Y/N… I’d be taking advantage…” His voice is firm yet gruff as he tries to inject reason into the conversation. As usual being the good guy he’s constantly telling everyone he’s not.
“I am so goddamn sick and tired of being sad, please Logan.” This time when you capture his lips, he doesn’t rear back. You’re not sure what’s going through his mind, but his self control seems to snap within him as he begins returning the kiss in earnest.
Logan’s tongue swipes along your bottom lip begging entry, entry you swiftly allow. You’re breathing heavily through your nose as he plunders the depths of your mouth, exploring your mouth with his quick tongue.
Deciding to make the next move you push yourself up, throwing a leg over him to straddle his lower stomach. He’s lifted the top half of his body to ensure he doesn’t lose your mouth, your teeth clash slightly with the movement and you can’t help a bubble of nervous laughter. He pays it little mind though as he swallows the noise, his hands coming to rest on your hips.
Instantly, you grind your hips downward on the growing bulge that lurks below. Logan lets out a deep groan at the friction and his hands on your hips raise to the bottom of your tee in response, his thick hands tugging at it requesting your permission.
Nodding, you pull back causing him to groan at the loss of your hot mouth on his. Though it's only for a moment as the second the tee is over your head, he’s back on you, only it's your bare neck he’s lashing with affection now.
Logan breathes in deep your scent mixing with the heady aroma of your arousal. He’s nipping and licking along the smooth skin, soothing his bites as quickly he makes them. It's the animal instinct within him, telling him to devour you entirely; make you his.
“Logan…” You gasp, your eyes are clenched shut in pleasure as he bucks his hips upwards into your jean covered centre.
Logan pulls back to take you in, writhing above him in the moonlight, you’re fucking beautiful, though the flash of familiar metal between your breasts catches his eye, unable to stop himself, he catches it in his fist.
Dog tags; his old dog tags.
‘LOGAN’ is etched into the aged metal and they’re warm to the touch from living beneath your shirt over your heart.
The realisation hits him like a freight train, not only was he loved by you, but for his other self to have given you these, he fucking loved you.
He’s not sure why it didn’t occur to him before, that the other him was as devoted to you as you were to him. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about it, but he twists his hands, careful not to snap the metal string, but using it to pull you close.
For the other dead Logan, the hero he’s heard so goddamn much about, he decides he’ll give you the treatment you deserve.
As if you weigh nothing at all he flips you onto your back, his hands dropping the dog tags and falling to the waistband of your jeans. His dexterous hands undo the button so quickly, that your trousers are peeled from your legs before you know it, leaving you in an unimpressive unmatching set of underwear beneath his roaming eyes. Though Logan couldn’t give a fuck as he groans at the sight of your body exposed to him.
Logan begins by kissing down your stomach before his hands linger on your black panties, he can't help but grin at the tiny barely there bow in the middle of them; you’re like a gift all wrapped up for him.
His eyes lift to meet your own as he begins sucking at the fabric that's keeping your pussy from him, it's already damp with your arousal and by the time he finishes, absolutely sodden with his saliva.
“Logan, please…” you whisper desperately as your hands find his ‘tufts’ for a lack of a better word. They were new, but you liked them, plus they now seemed pretty functional.
He takes only a moment to remove his gloves, before they return eagerly to your body. Those thick hands traverse the planes of your thighs, they’re quick in their passing as they make their way up to the waistband of your panties, he hooks them over his thumb and reveals your soaking core to his hungry eyes and he’s right back to wanting to fucking devour you, and boy, fucking does he.
Enthusiastic, would be the word, earth-shattering would be another - the word to describe how Logan eats pussy.
Logan without much preamble dives into your centre, his tongue slips into your hot wet heat, lingering for a moment on your clit, circling it reverently before he dips that talented tongue inside of you. His nose knocks against your clit several times, each more delicious than the last as he utterly devours your pussy. He moans, grinding his hips into the dirt and readjusts pulling you closer, his thick muscled arms locking under your thighs as you buck against his mouth.
You're a complete goner the second he slips a single long thick finger inside of you.
“Fuck, Lo, I’m gonna-”
“Come, baby... I got’ya.” He mumbles into your pussy. And fuck me, he does. He carries on lapping at you all the way through your orgasm, drawing it out of you like the pied fucking piper of pussy. It feels like you’ve been falling for hours by the time you finally come down, only Logan doesn’t allow you any reprieve before he’s back to lashing your clit with his quick tongue. Your hands find those faux ear tufts once more and he groans as you pull on them a little more sharply than you intend in your shock, in answer Two fingers bury themselves deep inside of you.
“One more.” He’s negotiating orgasms, but you have no qualms as he rubs his nose side to side with affection against your sensitive bud. His tongue and nose moving in pace with his fingers, currently fucking in and out of you.
It's when he scissors those thick long fingers inside of you, hitting that spongy spot within you that makes your back arch.
Your top half has left the ground, he grunts in annoyance, suspending your hips back to his mouth at the angle he likes. Those deep hazel eyes meet yours from between your thighs, crazed and animalistic, driven wild with arousal as he eats your pussy with gusto.
It's that image that thrusts you over the edge once more, your back hitting the ground as your body seizes, thrusting your hips against his mouth.
Without any preamble a third finger joins stretching you deliciously. The hand not currently fucking you, leaves your hip to caress your stomach stroking the flesh there, not quite able to reach your breast.
“Lo… fuck… yes… right… right fucking there.” You cry as he draws your second orgasm of the night out, only when you tug at his tuft due to overstimulation does he acquiesce and pull back, only of course, after cleaning up your gaping desperate hole.
He sucks his fingers clean as he sits back on his knees, his cock thick and tenting against the yellow bottoms of his suit. Your arousal has soaked through his beard making his chin slick, he wipes it with a single swipe with the back of hand though, it does very little for his sodden chin.
Tired of not touching him, you sit forward grabbing at his belt. It's a difficult contraption that confounds you, though Logan is far too wound up to find any humour from it.
He replaces your hands unbuckling the thing before finding the hem of his shirt and pulling it over his head.
There, finally in all his glory, he is exposed to you and you’ve never been a religious woman, but Mary mother of fucking christ, he is gorgeous. Logan’s chest is fucking… transcendant to behold, it's like he’s been sculpted by god herself, the light isn’t the best out of here, but you hope to god you don’t die tomorrow simply for wanting to take your time and lick each and every single one of those muscles on his stomach.
Its your turn to leap forward onto your knees and join his mouth with yours, he tastes distinctly of you and his chin is still sodden, but you couldn’t give less of a fuck, you love the fact your desire is still marking his skin.
Your hands trace the firm abs at your disposal, before dipping into his now open trousers and underwear to find him rock hard.
If his physique impressed you, you had a big storm coming, because his cock was a fucking resplendant beauty and it was plain to see from the swelling Logan really liked eating pussy.
Your fingers barely touched as you pumped him, once twice, spreading the copious amounts of precum along his shaft.
“Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth. You lean down, positioning yourself to take him in your mouth, though he stops you in your tracks grabbing your shoulder. “No sweetheart, I want your pussy.” You clench around nothing at his filthy words, this man will be the fucking death of you.
You reach behind you and free your tits from their confines, another moan leaves his throat as he pushes you backwards. On his hands and knees he’s deliberate with every move as kicks the bottoms of his suit off as he prowls towards you.
Finally, he’s in between your legs naked as the day he was born. His hands are on your breasts, exploring the new plains exposed to him, playing with your nipples alternating between sucking and twirling them between his fingers.
So lost in his skilled hands, you barely notice when one disappears to line himself up, it's a shock, the sudden intrusion, but not an unwelcome one as he thrusts himself forward and as deep as he can go.
You moan his name into his ear, doing your best to keep your volume down.
He has prepared you well, you’re so worked up that he slides home through your tight slit. The sheer size of him means it's a stretch that borders on uncomfortable, but the second his hand finds your clit you’re clenching around him and grinding forward, desperate for more. Unable to control himself, his claws extend, he grunts pulling you close and thrusting them down into the ground.
“Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts into your neck, where he's busy lavishing the flesh once again with bites. Your neck is going to be black and blue tomorrow, but you can’t find it in you to give a single fuck.
The two of you are so fucking close his bare skin so deliciously hot against your own, but you want more, you need more.
Logan pulls his hips backwards, pulling out of you until only the tip remains before slamming home and spearing you wide open his cock. Your moans blend together as you lose yourself in each other's bodies.
Logan is worked up from eating your cunt, so it doesn’t take long for the sensation to hit him.
“Fuck, where do you want it?” He grunts into your neck, as his hand descends to rub quick circles on your clit. He pulls your ass up, making sure to hit the spot inside of you that makes your toes curl.
You know he’s teetering on the edge, desperate to make you cum before he does.
“Inside - come inside me, baby.” You whimper into his neck as he pounds into you reaching your deepest recesses with his thick cock, his hammering, it’s unforgiving with his enhanced strength but it pushes him deeper into spots you couldn’t have imagined. He groans at your words, sounding every bit the wounded animal he is. Your shared groans and the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he takes you again, and again is all that can be heard in the clearing.
Finally as he joins your lips in a kiss, you come hard on his cock. Clenching around him as your body writhes uncontrollably.
Logan adjusts his hold on your thighs, now he uses your body, drawing out your pleasure but ultimately chasing his own. The pace is fast as he grunts and groans erotically into your neck, he fucking growls as his hips stutter against your own, and you know you should be more careful, but the thought of him cumming inside you has you gripping his cock like a vice once more. You give him a tight sheath to come in, and he pumps you fucking full of his cum and its a big fucking load. Logan thrusts a few more times, pushing his seed deep inside of you as he claims your mouth once more.
You run your hands through his hair as he lets his body fall against yours, he’s supporting his own weight, thank god, you don’t think you could handle his muscle, let alone the adamantium skeleton. He’s still sheathed inside you as the two of you revel in the closeness.
The silence stretches on for an amount of time you can’t quite quantify. The two of you take in your surroundings, listening to the quiet of the forest, until your breathing has finally calmed down.
Logan lifts himself up on one arm, and pushes your hair back from your face. You stare at him in the moonlight for a long moment, unable to help yourself as you trace his familiar features. His strong nose and the curve of his brow, your finger dances along his flesh.
Logan’s eyes close, so touch starved he basks in your affection.
“I-” Logan goes to speak, before you drop your finger on his lips.
“It’s okay. Whatever happens tomorrow, happens. I’m okay with it.” You smile at him, there's a chill to the air but you’ve got your Wolverine warming you up. “I just wanted one night to be about something other than death.”
He takes your hand from his lips and kisses along the back of it and up your wrist, though It's a slippery slope as he hardens inside of you again.
Logan manages to pull two more orgasms out of you before dawn.
When your time has run out, the two of you finally dress, not wanting to be found in a compromising position. Logan curls his body around yours and buries his face in your hair as he spoons you from behind.
Just when you’re just on the cusp of sleep, he finally speaks into the night. Logan opens up about his world tearfully, instantly you reach your hand down, finding his own thicker one resting on your belly and you intertwine your fingers with his. He tells you of the mutant hunting as you draw comforting circles on the back of his hand, it's not much, but it's more than he’s ever had whilst reliving his worst day. When he has finally bared his soul, the two of you fall back into silence.
After what has been an emotionally, not to mention physically taxing night the two of you finally fall asleep if only for a few more hours, two incredibly damaged souls offering one another comfort.
It’s later in the morning when you finally awake. The sun has risen that much is clear but you're slow to awaken from your comfortable position in Logan's arms, his warm strong body coiled against your back fighting off the worst of the early morning chill, his face still buried in your hair as he snores peacefully.
There’s a sensation niggling at you, you think it's what woke you up in the first place; you can’t shake the sensation of being watched.
Lazily you open your eyes, only for your heart to drop to your asshole when you find Wade Wilson about 10-inches from your face lying on his side, his head supported by his hand.
“Mornin’ sleepy head, have a good night?” You can hear the smile in his voice.
“AGH!” Unable to stop both your cry of fear and your fight or flight response in progress, you throw yourself backwards, your powers activating of their own accord, and slamming your body into Logan’s chest. He startles awake, with the telltale ‘snikt’ of his claws extending as he orientates himself, his arm coming out to block you from the threat, despite not being able to see you.
After your brain catches up, you call your power back, but Logan doesn’t do the same, keeping his claws out seemingly ready to slice up his not-so-best friend.
“Get the fuck outta’ here, Wade.” Logan growls harshly at the other man, his voice is filled to the brim with hatred.
“Hmph - this is what I get for acting altruistically. I thought a good stress relieving bone in the woods with your cherie amour would really sort out that bee in your bonnet, but you sir are just a very unpleasant man and I’m worried that-”
“WADE.” This time Logan’s voice is a threat as he shouts at the man. You place a hand on his muscled arm to steady him. Though he may have stopped your heart with his antics, Wade isn’t doing anything particularly outrageous. Logan shakes your hand from his arm and allows his claws to retract as he stands.
“Thanks for jumping to my defence there, Y/N. Great to meetcha bt-dubs, huge fan.” You’re disoriented from the wakeup call but you shake the hand he offers you. Honestly, you’re still trying to process the head-fuckery of the past day, so you don’t have a quick response for him, though the mouth doesn’t seem to mind as he continues. “That mean lil’ lady is asking for ya’. Thought I’d come and check you and big yellow weren’t still bumpin’ uglies. Didn’t want her to see you and Papa going to town on each other's fun parts.”
“Uh - Thanks… Wade?”
“That’s me.” He theatrically begins bestowing multiple kisses on the back of your hand he still had in his grasp, which you retract gently. “Oh, and we’re done.”
Pushing yourself up, you go to stand though Logan offers you his newly gloved palm. You lock your fingers around his and the two of you stand together, inches apart and your fingers still intertwined, neither quite sure what to say to the other. Wade’s ‘awh’ over your shoulder shatters the moment and he drops your hand instantaneously.
After a beat or two Logan leans forward, placing a single solitary kiss on your forehead. “See ya’ around, bub.”
“Where’s my smooch, Logie-bear?”
“Go fuck yourself, Wade.” He calls as he walks around, Logan doesn’t look back as he heads off into the forest.
You still had faith he’d turn up for the fight, Logan always turned up when it counted and you knew this time would be no different.
“Hate to see him leave, but love to watch him go.” Wade sighs linking his arm with yours.
“Mmh, You can say that again.” You agree with the clown watching Logan’s ass as he walks away, you swear you see his step falter thanks to his impeccable hearing, but he doesn’t turn back.
The two of you turn and you begin walking back to the cave arm in arm with the strange man to prepare for the assault on Cassandra’s lair when Wade finally asks the question you know he’s been dying to ask since meeting you “So, Y/N just between us girls… how big is it?”
LOGAN TENDER HAIR TUCK SUPREMACY RISE. I'll use it in every fic, don't think I won't.
Thanks for reading xxx
Graphics by my pal - @saradika-graphics 💕
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#worst logan#worst logan x reader#worst logan x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine you x#wolverine deadpool#wolverine smut#wolverine x you#wolverine#james howlett x reader#james howlett#james howlett x you#wolverine deadpool fanfiction#wolverine fanfiction
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mother dearest is finally home
#no bcs like#my parents r trying to work shit out i get it#and they have been transparent about rhat#but like. a parent should not have to go and sleep at another personas house for almost a week to get away from us#and the thing is i can’t really blame her#my dad doesn’t do like any work around the house#and he puts himself above everyone else#ugh#this week has been really awful for me#for some reason i remembered that oh yeah i’ll never be who i really want to be#and i’ve set myself a decision deadline that by the end on july i need to know whether or not i’m going to transition#i need to properly weight the pros and cons of all my options and what they will entail#it’s just so frustrating#i really do feel like i’m sitting at the fig tree watching all the fruit rot in front of me#can i not just pick multiple. what if i want to try being a 6’1 man and then if i hate it be a 5’8 woman#or if i hate that be a 5’8 man#bcs those three r kinda my only options#i’d rather not be a 6’1 woman because i’d hate myself#it’s just like if i choose to transition all the good genetics that i got from my dad are thrown out the window#and if i transition and end up looking ugly and not passing i’ll hate myself more than if i just never transitioned#but if i don’t do anything and i become a good looking talk man with good features sure i’ll be loved#i’ll probably be able to pull (hopefully bcs i need to become an actually good person first)#but i won’t be loved the way i want to be loved#i want to be the one who gets helped in the relationship not the helper yk#ughhh and i’ll have to come out to my parents and everything#why could i not have just been born a womannnnnnn ughhghg
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.
#ok i never play the surprise song game#but just for shits and giggles#I’m guessing paper rings will feature on guitar because these days she’s gross (affectionate)#although I also feel like she might not resist stay stay stay for the football helmet lol#and hoax will feature on piano because she wants to remind us she’s going to murder us with TTPD in a month
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I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app
*
Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.
“No?” he says.
“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t��it can’t be that.”
“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”
He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.
And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.
“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”
“Lightyears beyond, actually.”
“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”
He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.
“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”
“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.
“Exactly.”
“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”
Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”
Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”
“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”
“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”
There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.
“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”
“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”
#superbat#my writing#i was genuinely surprised to wake up and discover i hadn’t just dreamed the whole thing
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