#Insecure men in love with other insecure men

[manicandobsessive]

Baby I’m Yours | L.H.

Summary: He’ll be yours until the end of time.

Warnings: Cursing, fluff, so much fucking fluff, pet names, fem!reader, lovesick lo

WC: 2.2k

AN: Here’s a little something for valentine’s day ✌️☺️

Never in Logan’s long, long life did he imagine this day. He felt undeserving, like he was living some other man’s life. As he looked in the floor length mirror, tugging and adjusting at his tie- a method of distraction, he imagined your pretty face when you walked down that aisle. He imagined the smile you’d give him when he inevitably gave you the same lovestruck grin in return. Crazy how the mere thought of you made him all the more calm. His girl, clearing his mind even from across the hallway, without knowing. He’s sure if anyone found out how often he thought of you or simply melted at the idea of how you look at him he would be endlessly teased by the other X-men. Though it wasn’t hard to see, he never tried to hide how soft he was for you. Even when you weren’t dating, he’d always treated you gently and with the same kindness you treated him with. You were the first person in a long time to make him feel alive, like he’d been doing more than just surviving. And it was easy to tell.

He’d heard the way Kitty and Rogue whispered when he would carry you home from a night out. When he’d bring you water and advil. The way he’d gently set you on the couch, kissing your forehead and kneeling to take off your heels like it was second nature. He never once had to question his next move with you, it all came naturally. One step after the other. Pieces of a puzzle falling together.

He allowed Scott and Hank to tease him for falling for your every move. Heeding your every request without so much as a batting an eyelash. He’d do anything for you, and he made damn sure everyone was aware of it. He let them tease him, anything to see that smile on your face. You were proud to have him, proud to be his girl. It was absurd to him, the way you wore his love like a medal of honor. But to you it was quite the opposite. Asking why he chose you when he could easily have any woman he wanted. In those moments of insecurity, he’d furrow his brows in genuine confusion and ask why you would ever think that. You were the single most important thing in his life, everything else be damned. He wouldn’t have you wondering whether you were enough or not.

Which is why he was so eager to put a ring on your finger. And in those moments of insecurity, all he had to do was say: “Look at your hand, baby.” You’d look down at the simple engagement ring banding your finger and flush. All while the smile returned to both of your faces and he’d pull you in for a soft kiss that said everything he couldn’t. But he always made sure to tell you he loves you and only you, no one else was it for him in the way you were.

He didn’t even notice Scott standing in the doorway while he reminisced on some of the best moments of his relationship. The man watched him with a proud smile, something that Logan wasn’t on the receiving end of often. But Scott was like a brother you never had, and having his approval was something that he didn’t necessarily want to beg for but something he knew he had to have before he moved forward with you. Anyone important to you was important to him. In the same sense that anyone you disliked, he disliked as well without question. He cleared his throat and looked at Scott through the mirror.

“Summers.”

He greeted cordially, if you could call it that. It was awkward not being on bad terms with him, but he tried for you always. Even if it killed him to not insult the man at every turn. It was too easy.

“I’m proud of you, Logan.”

Which took him completely off guard.

Him and Scott were on decent terms, but this was another level. Logan expected he’d feel uncomfortable with the sentiment, but he didn’t have any emotion of the sort. He was prideful he’d won over the acceptance of one of the closest people to you. Scott was protective in a brotherly way, he always had been. Logan, being Logan, was protective in every way possible, and Scott approved of it. Logan could get possessive, but in the harder moments Scott was there to help him reel it in. And while reluctant, Logan was grateful to have a support system like that. Someone to reassure him when you didn’t have the chance to.

There was no hesitance in Scott’s mind. Logan was the man for you. His love for you shone bright and bold, never wavering. Not once did Logan make him wonder if he was enough for you. While he was weary at the beginning, knowing Logan only to be the man who was gruff and closed off, he saw him open up. He saw the way Logan’s posture relaxed with you, the way a small smile graced his face. He’d never forget the day Logan asked him if he could have your hand in marriage. While it wasn’t Scott’s position to have the final say, he knew that getting his approval would mean the world to you. As he did with your other friends at the mansion.

Logan grunted in thanks, messing with his hair some more in the mirror and adjusting his suit for the 15th time. Scott noticed his fidgeting, it wasn’t hard to, and stepped in the room closing the door.

“Not getting cold feet are you, Howlett?” He asked, more-so in a joking demeanor. He sat himself on the couch off to the side of the suite. And while he was obviously teasing, he knew Logan wouldn’t bail, Logan took the accusation a little too seriously.

“You kiddin’ me, Summers? I’d be a fuckin’ idiot to.” He huffed, rolling his eyes in irritation. When he caught a glimpse of the man smirking at him he couldn’t help the pull of his lips into a small smile. He laughed at himself, there was no shot of him being less than happy on a day like today.

“Jus’, wanna make sure I’m good enough for her.”

Scott nodded in understanding, a feeling most men got on a day like today. Logan looked back over at him as he spoke..

“I know we don’t necessarily talk to each other this way, but I see the way that girl looks at you Logan. She acts like you gave her the moon and the stars. She hasn’t ever felt like this for anyone, it’s clear to all of us. She loves you.”

He reassured, making Logan take a deep breath and nod along.

“And, I love her. I love her with all of me.” He stated, like it was a habit. Never would it go unnoticed how much he had fallen for you. The fact that he was marrying you was proof enough for everyone else, but to him, he felt that if he didn’t spend every waking moment making sure you knew how much he really loved you- how much you’d changed his life- there was no point in living.

“I know you do, Logan.”

~

You never thought you’d make it here, let alone so easily as well. Relationships, for the most part, weren’t ever your strong suit. Having been someone who was focused on the here and now, you never paid much mind to the future or any planning ahead of the next day. You had dreams, goals and whatnot, but marriage was never one of them. You knew either way you’d be fine, married or not.

So when Logan showed up it was the definition of sweeping you off of your feet. Your knight in shining armor. Your man. And you loved every fucking minute of it. Being able to say you had tied down the renowned Wolverine. Telling people he proposed to you? It was something to be proud of. Though, when it came to Logan that was never what you really focused on.

You allowed him to open up to you just as he had allowed the opposite. You were two people who had drifted so far from the picture-perfect idea of a love story, yet everyone around you aspired to have a love like yours. A man who would do anything- who would flip the world upside down- for his woman and vice versa. You saw each other as equals, eye-to-eye.

You’d known about Logan’s past endeavors, to say the least. He was the type of guy any woman- or man- would want with a single look. His attitude, surprisingly, contributed to it as well. People liked a challenge, Logan was just that.

Your friends warned you, telling you he was a player. Someone who wanted one thing and one thing alone. Which is why you seemed uninterested, despite the nagging feelings of desperately wanting to know him in any and all ways. You were turned off by the idea, but it didn’t change your opinion of him negatively. You simply had no interest in pursuing any relationship, and you weren’t about to be another notch on his belt either.

That’s why you asked if he was joking the first time he asked you out.

He never let you live it down.

~

“Hey doll, can I talk to ya?”

You closed your eyes, breathing in ever so slightly before turning to face the only person who would dare call you that.

“Hm? What’s up?”

You feigned casualty, even though your rapid pulse spoke for you.

“Listen, I uh- I dunno how to go about this.”

Logan scratched the back of his neck, cursing himself for acting like an awkward teenager. He had game, so why couldn’t he speak to you without feeling this way?

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow with a playful smirk he found himself drawn to. This was the moment all the tension over the last year had boiled down to. All the playful gestures and lingering glances. The heat between the two of you when you stood a little too close to be friendly. He knew it had to be the moment.

“Can I take ya out? Sometime, y’know. Like- a date.”

“Like a date?” You teased, smiling at his bashful face that was reserved only for your eyes. The way he gazed at you was something to cherish, and the minute you noticed it- lightyears after everyone else already had- you were a goner.

“Just- fuck darlin’, I suck at this.” He huffed, irritated with himself. Irritated that he couldn’t function properly standing feet away from you.

“You’re not joking right?” You asked, seeing almost offense flash over his face. You immediately felt guilty.

“Not that- not that I want you to be joking. I just, I know you don’t do this type of thing. And Scott’s been teasing me and I don’t want you to think you have to because-”

“You think I’ve ever done somethin’ I didn’t want to, doll?” It was his turn to tease. You blushed and looked away for a moment before meeting his eyes again.

“No.” You murmured out.

He smiled.

The rest was ancient history.

~

The time had come, you were fully ready. Logan was anxious to see you since it’d been almost a day without having you by his side. (You told him it was bad luck even after his unwavering protest) and he missed the hell out of you. You the same for him.

He stood at the end of the long aisle the girls had set up. Admiring the way they had all put in so much effort to make this your picture perfect wedding. Logan was just happy he was finally getting to call you his wife. He didn’t care if you would’ve gotten married in sweatpants under a bridge.

He tugged on his tie one last time, clearing his throat as the music started, a love song that you’d shown him on one of your first drives together. It was a cover of an older song he’d loved back in the 60s. He smiled at the first few chords, knowing it by heart from the way you’d always hummed the song or played it for him.

He thought he would’ve been able to hold it together.

That was until he saw you.

You stepped into view, your figure illuminated by the golden light of the sun like an angel. His angel. And your smile, your bright beaming smile that stopped the world. He was done for.

Logan wasn’t an emotional man by any means, he’d been through actual hell and back. He had nothing to cry for anymore, and somehow you made that all fade away.

He never thought he’d be able to cry of happiness, yet here he was. Silent tears streaming down his cheeks as he watched the love of his life stride towards him in all her beauty.

As you reached him, you wiped off his face with your soft hands. Kissing his cheek and smiling, saying a quiet “Hi, Lo.” before you took your position across from him. He was rendered speechless, having never seen something so breathtaking.

In that very minute he had confirmed what he knew all along, he was yours and you were his.

Until eternity.

[contemplatingoutlander]

In contrast to the prosperity gospel scam artists, and the far-right American Catholic bishops who have supported Trump, Pope Francis understands Christ's true message.

“The act of deporting people who in many cases have left their own land for reasons of extreme poverty, insecurity, exploitation, persecution or serious deterioration of the environment, damages the dignity of many men and women, and of entire families, and places them in a state of particular vulnerability and defenselessness,” the Pope writes. The letter comes after Vice President JD Vance, a Catholic convert, called on theology to legitimize a crackdown on migrants. “You love your family, and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens in your own country,” Vance said on Fox News. “Then after that, you can focus and prioritize the rest of the world.” “Christian love is not a concentric expansion of interests that little by little extend to other persons and groups,” the first Latin American Pope writes. “The true "ordo amoris" that must be promoted is that which we discover by meditating constantly on the parable of the ‘Good Samaritan,’ that is, by meditating on the love that builds a fraternity open to all, without exception.” “God bless this Pope,” Mehdi Hasan, editor in chief of Zeteo, posted on X. “When you get your Catholic teaching so wrong the Pope himself has to issue a correction,” Mollie Wilson O’Reilly, editor at large for Commonweal Magazine, posted on Bluesky. She added: “I'm being glib, but this is truly beautiful, and clarifying. [color emphasis added]

Many of the so-called "Christians" who support Trump's reign of greed and scapegoating follow the "prosperity gospel." This article by Tara Isabella Burton explains how aspects of three different movements combined to create what is known today as the "prosperity gospel." The three include:

The 19th century New Thought movement, which claimed that if one set one's mind to something, they could manifest it in real life. This aligned with "the quintessentially American idea that the individual was responsible for his or her own happiness, health, and situation in life."

The Calvinist idea of believing that prosperity was a sign from God that one was predestined to be saved, and hard work was a sign of one's virtue, which led to "the valorization of the 'Protestant work ethic.'" According to Burton, this "specifically Protestant approach to labor [was] integral to the development of capitalism and industrialization."

The rise of decentralized "charismatic Pentecostal churches," in the U.S. According to Burton, these Pentecostals held "the idea that God would manifest Himself to the faithful in concrete, miraculous ways in the 'here and now'" through “'spiritual gifts' (or 'charisms,' from which the term 'charismatic' is drawn)." This in turn, combined with the "decentralized" structure of the congregations, led to the peculiar, almost fan-like devotion of congregants to their charismatic Pentecostal leaders, who often engaged in showy displays of their "spiritual gifts."

[See more under the cut.]

According to Burton:

These three strands collided throughout the twentieth century, as the prosperity gospel came into being. It started — like the “work ethic” Max Weber described — as a way to justify why, during the Gilded Age, some people were rich and others poor. (One early prosperity gospel proponent, Baptist preacher Russell H. Conwell, told his mostly-destitute congregation in 1915: “I say you ought to be rich; you have no right to be poor.”) Instead of blaming structural inequality, Conwell and those like him blamed the perceived failures of the individual. [emphasis added]

Burton claims that it is therefore not surprising that today "two of [the prosperity gospel's] major proponents — Paula White and Wayne T. Jackson — were among the six faith leaders invited to pray with Donald Trump at his inauguration."*

Burton points out that although "a 2006 'Times' poll found that 17 percent of American Christians identify explicitly with the movement," that same poll also found that:

31 percent espouse the idea that "if you give your money to God God will bless you with more money.” [Furthermore, a] full 61 percent agree with the more general idea that “God wants people to be prosperous.” [emphasis added]

Still, Burton wonders if it isn't the underlying cultural influences that created the prosperity gospel that contributed to Trump's election:

It’s difficult to say that the prosperity gospel itself led to Donald Trump’s inauguration. Again, only 17 percent of American Christians identify with it explicitly. It’s far more true, however, to say that the same cultural forces that led to the prosperity gospel’s proliferation in America — individualism, an affinity for ostentatious and charismatic leaders, the Protestant work ethic, and a cultural obsession with the power of “positive thinking” — shape how we, as a nation, approach politics. What is our collective approach to health care, after all, if not rooted in a visceral sense that the unlucky are responsible for their own misfortune? What is our willingness to vote a man like Trump into office but a collective cultural reward for those who brand themselves as successful? [emphasis added]

_____________ *It is a noteworthy that when Trump issued an executive order creating a White House Faith Office, it was Paula White, whom Trump named to lead it.

[goldfades]

oh, can you do a jealous booker?

jealous book is a different breed i love it

The event was loud, a blur of flashing lights and flowing champagne, but Devin wasn’t paying attention to any of it.

Not the cameras, not the music, not the endless conversations swirling around him.

His focus was solely on you.

More specifically, on the guy currently talking to you.

Devin wasn’t even sure who he was—some industry guy, someone important judging by the way people kept shaking his hand and laughing a little too hard at whatever he was saying. He was tall, well-dressed, confident in that way that came from knowing he had status, and worst of all?

You were smiling at him.

Not just a polite, thanks for the compliment kind of smile. No, this was your engaged smile, the one where your eyes softened just slightly, your head tilted just enough to show you were actually interested in the conversation.

And Devin hated it.

He wasn’t insecure. He knew where he stood with you. He knew you weren’t the type to entertain just anyone.

But that didn’t mean he liked seeing someone else make you smile like that.

Didn’t mean he liked the way the guy leaned in just a little too much, how his eyes flickered down toward your lips every time you spoke.

Didn’t mean he liked the way you hadn’t noticed Devin watching.

His jaw tightened, fingers flexing slightly as he debated how long he was willing to let this play out. Because right now? He was two seconds away from walking over there, sliding an arm around your waist, and making it very clear whose girl you were.

Devin’s grip on his drink tightened, the cold condensation damp against his fingertips, but he barely noticed. His whole body was taut, a slow burn creeping into his chest as he watched the scene in front of him unfold with agonizing patience.

The guy was still talking—still laughing, still leaning just a little too close, his confidence grating against Devin’s last nerve. It was the way he looked at you, like he thought he had a chance, like he didn’t realize that Devin was standing right there, watching, barely keeping his temper in check.

And you?

You weren’t flirting. He knew that. You were just being you—warm, polite, effortlessly charming. It wasn’t your fault that men mistook your kindness for an invitation.

But that didn’t mean Devin had to like it.

Didn’t mean he had to sit back and watch this guy try his luck like he wasn’t standing ten feet away, like he wouldn’t have zero issue shutting this down.

His jaw ticked. His patience was running thin.

Then it happened.

The guy reached out—just a simple gesture, fingertips grazing the bare skin of your arm as he said something low in your ear, something that made you laugh, made your hand lift to cover your mouth like you were actually entertained.

That was it.

Devin wasn’t even thinking anymore. One second he was standing on the other side of the room, and the next he was right beside you, his presence immediate—a shadow, a heat, a weight that was impossible to ignore.

You barely had time to turn your head before his arm slid around your waist, firm, possessive, his fingers splaying against your hip, pulling you flush against him.

The conversation died instantly.

The guy blinked, clearly caught off guard, his smile faltering for the first time. Devin’s expression didn’t change—didn’t waver, didn’t flinch. He didn’t need to say anything.

His body language spoke loud enough.

“This your man?” the guy asked, his tone forced-light, but Devin caught the slight edge to it, the unspoken challenge underneath.

You hesitated for half a second—just a blink, just enough time for Devin’s grip to tighten.

“Yeah,” you finally said, your voice softer now, aware of the shift in energy. “This is Devin.”

Damn right, I am.

Devin’s eyes didn’t leave the guy’s face, dark and unreadable, daring him to test his patience, to push just a little further.

But the guy wasn’t stupid. He got the message.

His hands lifted in mock surrender, his smirk returning, but it was different now—less sure, less cocky. “Didn’t mean to step on any toes,” he said, voice laced with something close to amusement. “Just having a conversation.”

Devin finally smiled, slow and sharp. “Yeah? Well, conversation’s over.”

The guy chuckled, but it was hollow. “Alright, man.” He gave you one last glance—one that Devin definitely didn’t like—before he stepped away, melting back into the crowd.

And just like that, it was just the two of you.

The tension didn’t leave Devin’s body immediately. His grip on your waist lingered, his thumb pressing into your hip like he needed a second to remind himself that you were his, that there was no real threat, that you weren’t going anywhere.

You turned toward him, tilting your head slightly.

“Jealous?” you teased, your voice light, but he could hear the amusement tucked beneath it.

Devin scoffed, but the way his fingers flexed against you betrayed him. “Nah,” he muttered, leaning in closer, his lips brushing just below your ear. “Just don’t like watching other men act like I don’t exist.”

You smiled, slipping your arms around his neck, letting your fingers slide into the soft curls at the nape of his neck. “You know I wasn’t flirting, right?”

“I know.” His voice was low, smooth. “Doesn’t mean I liked it.”

You bit your lip, leaning in just enough so your noses brushed. “Then maybe you should remind me who I belong to.”

Devin’s eyes darkened, his grip tightening.

“Oh, don’t worry, baby,” he murmured, his lips curving into something wicked, something promising. “I will.”

[florencebirdsong]

Could I request Agatha + Rio + Deaf!Fem reader?? I was thinking of possibly they learned how to say I love you or something meaningful to sign to Reader..or something along the line of them being protective of reader on their date because people are quick to judge reader because she is loud without realizing it..

( I would like to say that I am a irl deaf person myself so I would love this!!)

Yes, I can! I only know super basic Auslan. Like the stuff you’re encouraged to learn in multiple languages (hi, how are you, I’m good, finger spelling, where’s the bathroom, I love you, help, hospital, etc) and I don’t know which sign language you use so I’ve kept the actual sign language descriptions vague. I hope that’s okay :) Please enjoy!

Valentine’s Day Event 2025

Tags: annoying man, small moment insecurity, ficlet

Authors note: sorry the bickering isn’t actually written at the start. I’m trying to keep these as ficlets and those two could go for pages

You watch fondly as Agatha and Rio’s hands fly as they sign. Their bickering-like banter easily picking up your mood. The start of the year has been rough but tonight is just what you need. A romantic dinner at a fancy restaurant that you’re going to leave far too early to go and find something much more unhealthy to eat.

A particularly witty response from Rio has you snort a laugh. Agatha quips back just as fast and you laugh freely. She winks at you before turning a smug look on Rio, who would look annoyed if it weren’t for the smile tilting the edge of her mouth.

Both of their faces drop at the same time and it takes you a moment longer to realise a man has stopped by your table and interrupted you all. He looks agitated, his gestures sharp and his features hard. He’s on the other side of the table from you and clearly only addressing your two girlfriends. You can’t tell what he’s upset about and you watch Agatha and Rio for any indication of this becoming a serious altercation. Relaxing when they only look slightly madder than usual, you wonder what the man is talking about. They both seem more pissed off than their usual reaction to being hit on by a man, even when being interrupted during a special dinner. But it is Valentine’s Day. Surely the man has some clue?

They continue to sign when they respond to him but you still can’t glean what exactly this is about. Only that they seem to be about to chew him out.

“No one asked,” Agatha snaps, her hand movements short and sharp.

You tap the table to get Rio’s attention. The dark look means she needs to be distracted. Agatha may be vindictive but Rio is merciless.

“What’s happening?” you sign.

“He thinks we’re being too loud,” she signs back. “Like he hasn’t been bellowing for the last half hour.”

Your eyebrows furrow, suddenly self-conscious. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt badly about being too loud, but for it to be bad enough for someone to try and interrupt a romantic dinner…

Rio taps the table within sight of your dropped gaze. You reluctantly look up.

“He’s been shouting half the night,” she reminds you. “It’s not your fault. Don’t apologise,” she adds pointedly.

Your eyes flick to Agatha, whose disgusted scowl is directed at the man’s retreating back. She notices your gaze and her face immediately softens.

“You know the study, dear,” she signs. “Women speak up slightly more and men think they’re dominating the conversation. I’m sure it’s the same for volume.”

You nod, hesitantly. Knowing you aren’t likely to stop thinking about it without a distraction, Rio stands up suddenly.

“I want cheap chocolate in stupid shapes,” Rio declares.

Agatha doesn’t take any more prompting. She picks the napkin from her lap and flings it onto the table. Rio holds her hand out to help you out of the chair. You all have finished eating and you haven’t even glanced at the dessert menu yet so you don’t feel too badly about taking Rio’s hand.

“Such a gentleman,” you sign after she helps slip your coat on.

Agatha steps closer to you both and signs without shame, 

“I doubt you’ll be saying that once she has you in bed.”

“Nope,” Rio agrees with a sharp smile. “But chocolate first.”

You don’t even glance at the man on your way out.

[mrstellmeafuckingsecret]

uncommon/non popular/dare i say "contresverisal" (cuz a wrong opinon gets u death threats in this fandom...) characterization? like personalities wise? ik u don't like mean alpha remus, dumb sirius, regulus in general, but anything else that peeves you?

oo i love this. i think i've made it clear how much i despise fanon marauders so some actual unpopular opinions perchance?

sirius:

i loveee introvert sirius idc he doesn't like talking to people at all and has four friends

not immature !! ever !! EVER !!

very emotionally stupid i fear. cannot read the vibe of the room ermmm ever unless he spends a good ten minutes trying to read everyone's individual facial expressions.

he's not unaware of how gorgeous he is and neither does he spend six hours getting ready every morning ?? he knows he's good looking and he'll flaunt it and make fun of others for being ugly because it's just another good quality about him, like being intelligent or whatever.

not overprotective ?? not if he actually gives a fuck, anyway, if he's being overprotective he just doesn't respect you enough to think you can deal with the world

not jealous either ?? why would he be jealous when he literally has anything and everything he wants (except like emotional stability. if you can regulate your emotions he is in fact jealous)

remus:

actually not average, like he is well liked and stuff he's just Not Enough

ACTUALLY the forgotten marauder !!!

not memorable at all

peter:

most game out of the marauders

this isn't related to characterization, but i don't like the hc of him being super into herbology

not insecure

very manipulative from his teen years

james:

literally SO bad at comforting people it's horrible

you know those "pov: the only child friend" videos that are annoyingly exaggerated and just show a selfish egoist who's also a bad friend? that's james potter

^ that being said he is a good friend, because he does have a good heart, and he does care for people a lot

that doesn't mean he's not a dick to them

"bullying is my love language" and he points out your deepest insecurities in front of half your grade but somehow doesn't realize it's bad

lily:

a BITCH

hypocritical

not popular, ever

super smart but never ranked

NOT A MEAN GIRLFRIEND

kind of a mean girl though (affectionate)

bellatrix:

NOT SEXUAL !!!

SHE DOESN'T WALK AROUND IN LACE SLIPS??

i hate i DESPISE the headcanon that she's like some fucking dildo carrying femdom who's only true love is pegging men and having sex ???????

she looks down on women who show their knees to men before marriage dawg fuck off

barty:

crybaby

?? evil ??

evan:

also evil

small dick

regulus:

second option™

also evil

pandora (rosier):

NOT A SEER

Bad Person

evil but not in a fascist way just in an unlovable way

pandora (lovegood):

NOT A SEER

not luna's carbon copy, she was way more unhinged and potentially dangerous

[chipthekeeper]

There has never, in the history of characters, been a character that means more to me than Vel Sartha. I’ve been finding it difficult to express that feeling. That feeling of being so thankful and so appreciative that this fictional person has somehow made their way into your life and your heart. How is it even possible (much less healthy) to love someone that doesn’t exist so much? I still don’t know. I may never know. And I may go on a mile long rant now that doesn’t even begin to help you understand what she means to me. But all I can do is try.

If you follow me, you probably already know some of what I love to yell about Vel regularly:

She’s a world class yearner, she’s a sad little puppy, she’s a born rebel, she’s a spoiled rich girl. She’s a trusted leader, she’s a bitchy ex girlfriend, she’s a doting “aunt.” She’s pretty, pathetic, puppydog eyes (and oh my GOD her eyes!!). She cares. She loves. She fights. She makes mistakes and doesn’t trust herself as much as she should, but she trusts others and knows when to use their gifts over hers. She’s insecure but she’s commanding, she’s tough but understanding.

I hope you’ll forgive the weird venture into lyricism but it just came out that way. The point is, Vel is so interesting because she’s so contradictory, because she changes, because she puts on a different mask and becomes a different person but she's always the same at her core. She shapeshifts but she is also just fundamentally changed by what happens to her and her team. And that’s merely a piece of what I love about her.

Because it’s one thing just to get a Star Wars character who’s a woman who has so many sides and layers, but it’s an entirely other, more life-altering thing that that character is like me. That her first rebellion was against her own society, her own family, just because of who she is. I’m actually sobbing writing this because never in my life did I think I’d get to see something like this on screen in my favorite media. A real, canonical, undeniably, unapologetically queer woman with a whole personality AND a girlfriend. A character whose sexuality can’t be brushed away no matter how hard “they” might try to do so because IT IS ESSENTIAL TO WHO SHE IS. It is essential to her arc, her story, her motivations, to her interactions with other characters. And it’s not cheesy or preachy or boring or “toxic.” It’s real. It’s just real. It’s relatable. And it means the fucking world to me.

But even if you're not like me and that representation is cool to see but doesn't have the same effect on you, there is still plenty to appreciate about Vel Sartha. And actually, I really need to you appreciate her because -- and I know I'm biased but the numbers don't lie -- she is literally one of the most underrated characters on the show. With the third-highest amount of screen time behind only Cassian and Luthen, she should be up there among the most loved people in the series. And yet she's constantly overlooked and misunderstood. She never made a big speech and she didn't die interestingly or heroically. She didn't get to stab anyone or hit anyone with a brick. She just goes through some very real trauma and has a very real response to it, and people like to think that makes her weak and therefore not interesting as a rebel. Fortunately, though, it has become my life's duty to make everyone see the error in that logic.

When we first meet Vel, she is already so interesting as the leader of this little rebel band. She's the smallest one there but she has such a big presence. We find out right away that she wanted to lead, she wanted to be doing more and putting herself on the line. And she is good at it!! The men are resistant to the change she brings them but not because they don't respect her. She can command them with just a look, and she makes it known that even the big bad Imperial officer is not the boss, she is. Plus she's competent at the skills she needs -- she's a good shot and she looks right with the gun in her hands. You'd never know from watching that first arc that she started out as a spoiled rich girl.

Even when we see her weakness, though, it makes her more interesting. I love her insecurity as she watches Clem flirt with Cinta, I love the small looks of apprehension the day before the heist. I love how torn she is over how much to tell the team. And I especially love when the entire five-month-long operation nearly comes to a grinding halt as she looks down in fear from the top of the dam. But, to paraphrase my own fanfic, I don't think it's the height that causes Vel to hesitate, it's the weight. The weight of the biggest operation the rebellion has ever pulled, all on her shoulders. The weight of having to actually, finally make this decision to go or not, to send her team, her friends, into the unknown, to set off a chain of events that could turn the whole galaxy on its head. That’s SO much weight for such a small moment, and she almost crumbles under it. And even though she ultimately doesn't, I know it continues to weigh on her after the job because if she hadn't wasted all that time up there, maybe they'd have all made it out alive.

And this is where the switch happens for Vel. After all her men are dead and she's only barely made it out to see another day with Cinta, she's completely different. She's small again, scared and unsure. The confident, gritty leader she became on Aldhani died with the rest of them. She still puts on the masks when she has to and she's still a rebel, still dedicated to the cause, but she needs a break and some time to process her guilt. That's something I think people don't take into account enough with Vel. It was never that she was "cosplaying a rebel" or whatever people started to think once they learned who she is, it's that she feels responsible for losing almost her entire team.

But she has Cinta to remind her that there's not really time to take a break, and, because they are complementary halves of each other, she also reminds Cinta later that it is important to rest. I don't need to get into another ridiculously long rant about them as a couple (you can see my presentation for more if you need it), but suffice to say....this is a huge part of her character. Her love and devotion to Cinta might appear as a weakness to some, but to me it's an absolutely essential element of Star Wars: saving what you love, not fighting what you hate. Vel goes through most of the second half of the season timid and anxious, but when she thinks Cinta's life could be in danger, she literally sprints into the fire to try to find her, to save her. What could be braver than that?

I truly could go on and on for days about her, as I have for the past 800-plus days already (I took fully 10 pages of notes to prepare for this and we have BARELY scratched the surface here), but I'm sure I've lost most people already. The last thing I need to talk about though is that I owe Faye Marsay my life. She did such an amazing job with Vel, playing all the different sides of her so perfectly and conveying so many emotions and thoughts with just her face or her eyes. And beyond that, it's incredibly moving to see an actually queer actor playing a queer character in a franchise this big, and to see her be so proud of that work of "normalizing the normal" is equally thrilling. I would kill to have her play Vel for decades, selfishly, but I'll continue to be so ridiculously happy with every single moment of them both that I do get.

In conclusion (for now), please please please appreciate this tiny but monumental character, because my mental health depends on it but also because she absolutely deserves it.

"Everyone has their own rebellion," Vel tells us, and mine is destined to be against everyone who dares to underrate her.

Character Appreciation Friday - Vel Sartha

Name: Vel Sartha Played by: Faye Marsay Appearances: Aldhani, The Axe Forgets, The Eye, Announcement, Narkina 5, Nobody's Listening!, Daughter of Ferrix, Rix Road

Happy Friday and happy VELENTINE'S DAY, gang!!! Look I'm not gonna act like this is a normal one because that would be very dishonest of me. This is the most important day of the year for me, and I'd really really really love if everyone would help out with spreading appreciation and love for my number one sad girl rebel.

Please let me know what you appreciate about dear Vel in a reblog, comment, or ask!

Next week: Brasso

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 122

In place of August Tenth, Promptapalooza 3/ Geralt and Jaskier are traveling through faewood. They can tell it's faewood because the trees glittered and sang about how much closer the two would be if they just told the truth. The woods went back to normal afterward but it was kind of a giveaway. Jaskier starts playing some mindless melodies on his lute as they walk, only for Geralt to suddenly snarl a bit and turn to look at him. "Can you stop playing, Jaskier? I can't hear my self loathing thoughts when you play." They both stare in shock at each other. "That's not what I meant to say." Geralt states, awkwardly. "Do you often think bad of yourself?..." "All the time." "Me too." Geralt frowns. Geralt is a monster. He's a witcher. He's killed so many. Jaskier is perfect. Jaskier is sweet and kind and lovely. What can he hate about himself? "Geralt, please don't ask-" "What do you think about?" They say at the same time. "You'll leave me. You hate me. You'll find me annoying. You'll find me too loud. You'll never love me as I love you. I love you, Geralt. So much. I desire nothing but your arms around me at night, a kiss between us, you telling me I'm worth something to y-" Jaskier slaps his hands over his mouth and glances away. The trees giggle, and Geralt almost wants to launch a sword into the canopies just to fix the horrified expression on his bard's face.

[moonspirit]

Boy what are you doing

[eelclaw]

stupid fucking bastard. i am not coping with the leaks

[tabellae-rex-in-sui]

I'm new to Sade so sorry if this is a stupid question, but was Sade gay? I'm currently reading Justine and noticed the passionate, semi-romantic descriptions of m/m sex, which contrast with the crude descriptions of f/m sex. I've not read all of Sade's books, but the ones I have read also feature characters who're mostly disinterested in women, who give off self-insert vibes (e.g. Dolmancé). Am I reading too much into it? IDK but I was wondering if you could shed some light.

Happy deathday to Sade!! lol

Really all that can be said with certainty is that he definitely wasn't straight lol. Like anyone who died before modern queer theory, Sade's sexuality can be difficult to label with today's terminology. He was certainly attracted to both men and women, so for simplicity's sake I just say he was bisexual. But really, who knows...

Characters that he uses as self-inserts like Dolmancé in PitB or Bressac in Justine are pretty exclusively attracted to men. Like you said, there's multiple times in his writing where characters will praise m/m sex and show blatant disgust towards sex with women. But if you look at Sade's life, there's only one known* male sex partner and many women. There's also several women Sade was in love with throughout his life, but there exists no letters of him professing love to any man. Could this be because male victims were less likely to go to the police, therefore less known to us? because women were easier to pursue in public? because even he felt the pressure of societal norms? because he kept relations with men better hidden? because any such letters or records were selectively destroyed by a relative? Who knows! It could be some, all, or none of these things. It's really up to the interpretation of the reader. The misogyny, philosophical extremism, and very culturally different ideas about sex add so many different variables to Sade's sexuality.

To add further confusion: gender and sexuality were much more correlated in Sade's writing (and seemingly in the time period in general, I mean look at the bisexual Lord Hervey being referred to as "the third sex"), male characters who get sodimized call it them "becoming women", women who put on strap-ons "become men", even women who get sodimized are masculinized: Saint-Ange says she wants to be a "Ganymede" to Dolmancé. So sodomy seemed inherently gay to Sade, regardless of the sexes involved or what roles they played. Whereas today, that's definitely not the case. Beauvoir follows along with the sexuality-gender correlation and suggests that Sade felt more feminine than masculine and his written contempt for female genitalia was a product of his own gender frustrations. From what I've read, most modern historians tend to avoid labeling Sade with anything other than "sodomite" and "libertine" only using "bisexual" and "homosexual" to label certain actions he performed like "homosexual sex" "bisexual orgy" etc. This is when the word queer is godsent.

Tldr; He's too 18th century libertine for modern labels. Colloquially, I default to calling him bi, but we'll never really know. Maybe he would have preferred gay due to his preferences/philosophies. Who knows. Safest bet is to just call him queer.

*Should go without saying but, there were obviously more. Latour is just the only named one with recorded proof.

[darkwood-sleddog]

Finding myself reflecting on what is often the public’s incorrect understanding of mine and Sigurd’s relationship.

So many people (often cis men) see me with a big, often excited dog and love to talk down to me because they perceive the situation as less controlled or “under one’s thumb” as they expect/desire their own dogs to be (which is often complete shut down control).

In reality Sigurd is the most difficult dog I own. He is aloof, incredibly intelligent, very low biddability, and requires a very specific and curated relationship to do ANYTHING for you. He knows his size and he is in excellent shape. If he wanted to truly drag me and do what he wanted on a walk he would. He does to anybody that’s not me, including Mr D who he will often nip and manipulate to get his way. I am the only one that’s ever been able to get this dog to do work in my hands, be it sports or obedience. These men that negatively “joke” on my lack of control while my dog stands by my side and listens when I hold him back from his excitement would have no idea what to do with him. He would baffle them.

[skrunksthatwunk]

you go to a lesbian blog and find it says women only!! no men allowed!!! and go oh! excuse me, um, what about other lesbians? plenty of lesbians are genderqueer... and they go well, okay, go fuck yourself tim chop off your sweaty dick and stop calling yourself a lesbian. you do not have a dick, actually. you think about that fact often, even though it does you no good. you do not tell this person that.

you go to another lesbian blog and it says women only and you try again, and this time they change it to wlw + nblw only (non-men who love non-men :D). and you'll say hey i appreciate that but gender's not really that cut and dry for a lot of people. someone could be both a man and nonbinary, for instance. i just worry that you're looking at nonbinary as a generic third gender, or an extension of womanhood. i mean yeah you include nblw in your tags but all your posts are about pussy-havers exclusively. what's with that? and they say go fuck yourself you pervy man pretending to be a lesbian. you tried to sneak in but i won't let you.

so you go to a lesbian blog with a dozen or so posts about queer people needing to be more weird about it and you sigh in relief. but you still see the men dni. that's odd. hoping for the best, you say hey! i know you mean well but please maybe don't put men dni at the end of the lovely posts on your lesbian blog bc some lesbians are men. and they'll be like ok!! well you're allowed ;) and you say no that's not. no. some men are lesbians not just me. you think about your own dicklessness and wonder if that's why you were given entry. and you add that even if male lesbians are allowed, there's no indication of that. how would anyone know without asking? and they're like ohh gotcha gotcha well men dni + this is for sapphics only!! and you'll be like ok well that treats the concepts of men and sapphics as mutually exclusive identities and i just told you that's not true and you agreed with me so.. i don't think that solves our problem. and they're like. ok. fine. men dni but genderfluid and multigender people are allowed! and you're like no see that's. that's still the same thing.. you're saying the same thing just with different words. if you don't want men to interact but you're fine with multigender/genderfluid/etc ppl interacting then you either don't see them as Real Men (because they don't reach a standard of Full Manhood) or Complete Men (because they're only Part-Time Men), both of which suggest that they are, in some way, not men or less-than men, which is invalidating and defeats the point of the exception in the first place (accommodation) OR that you don't really mean the dni which is confusing and inconsistent and makes guydykes feel weird and uncomfortable and excluded from the lesbian space you're trying to cultivate. and they're like um. ok. so. cishet men dni? and you're like well i think that makes more sense, but what if someone identifies as both a cishet man and a sapphic? again, if we're trying to accommodate the genderfucky populace then that has to be a possibility that is considered. and they say god you people are never happy. what do you want me to do? what am i supposed to say to keep the right men out? and you pause. you empathize with the need for a space free from dudes trying to fuck you straight and feminine. dudes who watch lesbian porn and joke about what they'd do if they were allowed into girls locker rooms. who look at you like a piece of meat, and like someone who looks at women like pieces of meat in the same way he does. you get it. you know. you want a space where you can be sapphic, too. that's why you came to these blogs in the first place. you brace yourself and you say well i don't know that there are "right men" to keep out. i don't know that there's any single label that would accomplish whatever it is you're trying to accomplish. you could go for "sapphics only" or "queers only" and i think that might be the closest thing to what you want, but it's never going to be perfect. creating any exclusive space is going to shut out people you didn't account for, and the broader the label, the more people will be shut out that you didn't want to shut out. and what about people who don't know if they're allowed? what of questioning transbians, where are they supposed to go? and, frankly, i think i might rather my dykey posts get read and appreciated by a gay guy who sees me as a man than a woman who only sees me as a sacred womb, pure from male perversions or violence or whatever. i think community might just be more complex than a dni can handle. and they look at you and say i don't want to not have a dni. i think you're too permissive. you can't just "what about" or microlabel your way into everything. go fuck yourself, i bet you're not even a lesbian anyway. go find a real problem to get mad about.

you go to a lesbian blog. you ignore the men dni because you know you probably don't even count to them. or maybe you do count and, out of respect for your manhood, they'd shun you accordingly. you try to feel okay about that. you scroll past dozens of posts about mediocre men and gagging at straight friends' boyfriends and how gross and undeserving men are of the beautiful women they couple up with and how all women should be gay so they can get treated right and and and and and. you finally find a post about curling into someone you love and feeling at peace and try to lose yourself in it. you know that feeling is what unites you, what makes you belong. you try to focus on it. you think about carding your hands through a butch's hair or lacing fingers with a femme and feeling warm and loved and more yourself than you ever have before. like this is who you're meant to be. you read about lesboys and butch boytoys and genderfucky dykes and big hairy deep-voiced wonderful women (like you want to be someday, like you wish you could make yourself) and you try to ignore the men dni underneath each and every post. and you daydream about meeting someone kind and earnest at a lesbian bar even though you don't think any such bars exist within three states of you and you can't drink and don't want to drink because you need to be in control of yourself at all times so you don't fuck up like you're always about to and here in the nonexistent lesbian bar you feel wanted and safe and in good company. you picture your ideal, happiest self. it is a mistake. ideal-you has a goatee. not the mascara one you smear on and call drag even though you know it's not drag, not really, the beard you call drag because you think everyone would look at you sadly if you told them it was just to pretend you had something out of your reach. a beard that's soft and that you grew and that cannot be smudged away if you get too comfortable with it. the dream shatters. your people pull away from you, their scoffs mixing with the mind-numbing gay girl bedroom pop you learned to settle for just to have something that almost resembled you, they all pull away and turn their backs and do not look at you. you're too close to being a man now, even though you're the same amount of man as before. and they know you're not supposed to interact with men, not as you would with dykes, at least. and it sours. it's all your imagination, all in your head, but it sours.

you sigh. you think about how small you are. how short, how narrow, how feeble. how your voice pitches up when you talk to strangers because it's easier to speak quietly when it carries more, and because you're nervous. because it's a chore to talk, like everything is. you think about testosterone. you think about how your family would look at you, the questions they would ask, your answers they would only pretend to accept. the uncomfortable glances and whispered questions they'd try to hide from you. you think about how small you are, and how small you will always be. how you don't know of a way to fix it, but even if there was one, no one would want you anymore. you'd be the only one thinking it made you a cooler dyke. you think about how you don't even want a T-voice all the time, how you'll never be able to switch it at will, because you don't know how and can't bring yourself to figure it out. you think about how your throat closes around every hint of your own attraction. how wanting is perverse, how wanting is invasive, how wanting is embarrassing and too vulnerable so it must stay anonymous, as an online witness, and how you can barely manage to form or maintain friendships because your brain makes you pull away, always spinning out and struggling to recover from the simplest of interactions. how they'll all leave you and you won't chase after them at all and how that will hurt them. how stuck you get. how it looks like nothing's holding you back, how that frustrates everyone who thought you were going to be more than you were. the people you love who understand except when it comes to being ghosted, being shut out. how you don't want to hurt them. how you can't tell them that because you're stuck. how you turn to stone when touched, how you never reach out, how you lose your speech and can't look at people, how your autism is fun and sexy until it becomes real and you never see them anymore, how much you longed for someone who knew everything without you having to explain, and who loved you anyway. how unreasonable you know that is to expect of anyone. you think about that not-even-real lesbian bar. you think about how you still can't drive. how you can't leave your home on your own, without dragging somebody into helping you. how you can't leave your body. how you can't leave your manhood behind.

you think about finding another lesbian blog and ignoring everything. about skimming it for the parts you can juice some meaning from. the parts men ignore and don't understand, and how typical of you it is to do so. or the parts where you're not welcome and you should accept that, because it's for lesbians only. how you are a lesbian anyway. how you're meant to choose lesbian or man, how each is a betrayal of some kind to yourself or your people, your family, your lovely strangers, your rare friendly acquaintances. about the parts that tell you you're not wanted, that you're ugly and lazy and gross and insert yourself everywhere without even asking. about the parts that tell you you are hated, and how lesbians are above it all by rejecting men. how lesbians are each blessed miracles. about the parts that say you should be ashamed of being whatever twisted confused freak you are, of everything, of looking and wanting or not looking or not wanting, of picking and choosing instead of taking it all in with a smile. after all, shouldn't you take it? or is your ego too fragile, as men's so often are? aren't you tired? good. we're not here for your consumption. and we sure as hell don't want your company or "community" or whatever. didn't you read the sign? no boys allowed. and if you want to come in you have to make up your mind. as if you haven't told them the only answer you have. you're both. you're both.

you know you broke the rule by interacting.

but it gets lonely sometimes. you wonder if they know.

[britishbiscuits]

The Narrator was feeling insecure of his tummy

Stanley to the rescue

[stheresya]

lol at lb being a heathcliff anti as if mal and alina's relationship isn't just a piss poor version of catherine & heathcliff's all consuming love

[nicoscheer]

IM SORRY WHAT

I had to add this clip from the video of them cooking together

The post

Tom posted that story on the 25/01/2024 with the words on the statue and the title of the post literally being “the world is yours”

(So maybe Miles’ ring is reminiscent of his favorite actor Al Pacino)

Pretty sure the quote is based on that scene in scarface with the quote displayed on an airship and later on the globe statue

[seaweedstarshine]

This part was like half a year ago — but it's still cute that Forge and Ororo were both thinking of each other at almost exactly the same time—

—I love the fact that they agree on what the problem was in their relationship. I see fun things in the future for the reagent and the tinkerer—

—I have unreasonably high hopes they're gonna cross paths and do something interesting in the Black Panther arc in X-Force.