#and a lot of it is personal exploration about myself not wanting kids but I honestly don't want to get into that publicly lol

[dragon-spaghetti]

Hey so I just looking at your huskerdust kid art and I was wondering who gave birth to the kids?

Literally up until recently I just kept saying it was left up to interpretation, and tbh that still stands!! In the 'canon' of the au me and albo have created revolving around this, the answer is husk, but if that's something other people are uncomfy with and would rather say they just spawned into existence then I personally am fine w that 💖

(I am coming at this as a trans masc myself to be very clear, with husk being trans in this au)

[basslinegrave]

anyway i need more monarch a trois fics. sigh. wish i could write, i gotta draw them more at least

[spikeyjo]

also uh im kind of not thinking about it much because its insane. but if everything goes right (and i mean a considerable amount of things that probably wont go as planned) but if they DO... i will have a major surgery in like two weeks

[malachitezmeyka]

Honestly I’d really like to make some kind of MLP AU or redesign/rewrite or whatever else of the sort because MLP was essentially my first fandom and it’s extremely nostalgic to me, but I’ve seen so many people do it already and have found myself physically incapable of producing something that isn’t blatantly copying what other people have done :/

[gl1tched-r4bb1t]

Facts about TADC from the AMA with Gooseworx!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a member in the Glitch Inn, I got privilege to watch an interview and ask questions to Gooseworx!

I normally don’t spoil things from The Glitch INN as respect people wishing to keep it exclusive to the members (including myself!). However, when it came to the AMA, I feel like knowledge like this isn’t as exclusive and will be public knowledge anyways!

• Goose always imagined Gummigoo was Pineapple-Lime flavored

• Gangle loves to draw (we’ll see more of it in Ep 3)

•Ragatha likes horror movies!

•Jax’s favorite website is 4Chan

•Jax has a lot of Goose’s personal flaws put into him

•Ragatha might be able to see out of her button eyes, but Goose didn’t really know a definite answer for it

•“Loo-lee-lah-loo” is how you pronounce Princess Loolilalu’s name.

•Episode 6 will explore how the personalities of the cast have changed upon being in the digital world

•The Canonical reason Caine and Bubble do anything is because they think it’s comical/Funny

•Episode 5 will reveal how Kinger and Zooble eat (a bite just appears taken out of the food )

•Pomnis favorite color is red! This will be confirmed by Pomni in episode 5

•Pomni was an accountant and that is significant to the plot

•Episode 7 got split into 2, as Goose wanted time to let the deep emotions settle in

•Episode 3 is very much NOT FOR YOUNGER KIDS!!! It’s psychological horror, and Goose believes it may scare younger audiences.

•Ragatha was originally going to be named Emmy, but Ragatha sounded better!!

•Episodes 1-5 have already been Animatic Boarded, they are working on the animatic for Ep 6

•Kid Pix was a huge inspiration for the 90’s-2000’s style of TADC (Kid Pix was created in 1989 and originally released on Macintosh, look it up and you can see the inspiration)

•TADC is NOT inspired by IHNMAIMS The Game - Goose has never seen the IHNMAIMS game, only read the short story and got inspired from that

•Goose actually got an Email from Glitch asking her to pitch them a pilot, and so she just built from there!

[headspace-hotel]

having a lot of thoughts about "Things being Hard" and what that means

Being told that I need to do hard things in life, with no further elaboration of what that meant, has always been very distressing for me. Even when I was a tiny kid, I felt everything was so hard, and the future felt exhausting and terrifying

I have had this intense dread of what i might be made to endure, and worse, what I might be capable of surviving—because not being externally damaged by my suffering would mean it was normal and I had to feel it forever

Recently I did something HARD, but it was not the kind of HARD i always imagined people's advice to mean.

The kind of hard I always understood: going to a doctor's appointment, ignoring my own feelings to force myself to do a procedure that seemed horrible and unacceptable to me. The task of experiencing incredible suffering. (I always felt incredible guilt and shame when I could not force myself to do something.)

The new and unfamiliar kind of hard: making the doctor's appointment, carefully exploring my own feelings to determine what I want from it and what procedures I would and would not be comfortable with, writing down my feelings and boundaries and preparing to communicate and defend them. The task of opening the box where the trauma is locked up, feeling those feelings physically, accepting that the negative experiences and feelings of aloneness in that were traumatic, and setting out with determination to make a positive experience where I feel safe.

The first kind of hard is where enduring it feels like a deep erosion of my right to be a person, a torture where I have to feel ashamed and guilty forever that I want everything to not hurt as much

the second kind of hard feels like working on a skill with intense effort and frustration, feeling a crude beginning of mastery form—and experiencing it in relation to mental health is NEW.

I went to the appointment, when for so long I couldn't go to the doctor cause I was too scared! It was possible because I went to extensive lengths to make sure I was comfortable and felt safe.

In the past, it would have seemed that was AVOIDING the hard thing, and shameful, but it was still a hard thing—but it was a completely different hard. It was the hard of self-compassion, not the hard of self-cruelty.

I thought...When they said doing hard stuff is good for you, is this the kind of hard they meant all along?

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

ravish part 3

hitchhiker!readerxperv!loganhowlett

a/n: this is the final part of the ravish series! hope you guys enjoyed it <3 T

wc: 6k

NSFW

18+ MDNI | age gap,oral sex, p in v intercourse, and sexual themes

summary: Y/N goes to Logan's cabin in Canada while she waits for him to return from Mexico. during her stay, she finds some personal mementos that give her a deeper understanding of who he really is.

"...I ain't gonna tell you again, kid, it's too dangerous." He grunted, smoothing down his beard with a hand in frustration. The roughness in his voice matched the irritation in his eyes.

You stood in front of the doorway, blocking him. 

"Why are you going if you're so concerned about safety? What if something happens to you?" you shot back, crossing your arms defiantly. 

You weren’t just challenging him; you were demanding an explanation, the truth, something he couldn’t dodge with huffs and empty commands.

At the crack of dawn, you had ambushed Logan, catching him off guard before he could slip away into the shadows. 

The plan was simple.

Today, you weren’t separating paths; You had decided, and you weren’t about to let him just walk out without a fight.

But Logan, true to his protective nature, instantly shot down your idea, brushing it off. And now the two of you were standing there, bickering by the front door, each trying to make the other see their perspective.

"Because I can take it. You? Not so much. Now move, I gotta be somewhere." His voice was low and raspy, carrying a weight that was hard to argue with.

 He took a heavy step forward making the boards creak underneath him. He meant business, and you could tell he wasn’t in the mood to play games.

But you weren’t about to back down. 

"Then when am I going to see you again? If I can't go with you, how do I get in touch with you? You don't have a cell phone. Is there an address I can write to you?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them.

You reached out, gently touching his chest, feeling the heavy beat of his heart beneath your fingertips. It was a small gesture, but it was enough to stop him in his tracks.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound almost a sigh of resignation. For a moment, the harsh lines of his face softened, and he looked at you with hurt as if he heard you for the first time this morning. 

You both shared a look of longing before you cut the silence.

"I'm not being this adamant because I want to meet up again to fuck... I told you I liked you, Logan. If you leave for Mexico and we never see each other again, we won't get to explore this. I know you like me too." You slid your hand up to rest where his neck and shoulder meet. 

"You're right sweetheart, I do....a lot... It's just, I don't know when I'll be back," he said, his voice low and careful as if trying to choose the right words. "This type of thing... it can take a while." He looked down at you through his dark lashes.

He was leaving, without you.

The pressure in your chest subsided, and from the hand he placed on your waist you knew he was also upset.

 "Do you want to see me again?" You mumbled softly.

"Of course I do." His hands came up on your shoulders, his touch warm and reassuring. Logan pulled you in and pressed a long kiss on the top of your head. The warmth of his lips calmed every nerve in your body. 

He pulled away, steady, as always, but there was something in his eyes that told you this was just as hard for him as it was for you.

 "But I'm sorry, you can't come. I'd never forgive myself if something would happen to you." 

"Then I'll wait for you," you said, your voice calmer.

 "...Just give me a place to meet you. I don't care how long it'll take...I'll get by... I always do." You looked into his eyes, searching for some sign that he believed you, that he understood just how serious you were.

"You'll wait f'me?" His voice was softer now, almost uncertain as if he couldn't quite believe what you were saying. The gears in Logan turned as he thought of something.

"Yes, anywhere, I'll wait," you answered without hesitation.

He paused, considering your words, then nodded slowly.

"How about Canada?" 

Two weeks of walking, drives, train rides and taxis. That's what it took you to get to Logan's place in Deer Lake, Alberta.

 The journey up north was a first for you, an adventure into a new landscape that felt almost picturesque.

The countryside was a living canvas; Gorgeous snow-tipped mountains towered In the distance, tucked behind miles and miles of lush trees and massive lakes that shimmered reflections of a deep sapphire blue.

Logan's home—a cabin—was located deep within an untamed forest. The remoteness of the location was astonishing, so far away from any civilization, you wondered how he survived the winters alone; the taxi driver had only been able to take you so far before the road disappeared into the wild grass, leaving nothing but a rough trail that was impassable for a vehicle. 

From there, it was up to you to make the final trek on foot.

As you walked, the gravel crunched beneath you, the sound was oddly comforting in the quiet of the forest. The air was crisp and clean, breathing had suddenly become easier in the forest. The scent of pine and cedar filled your nostrils, clearing your sinuses from any blockage they might've had.

Approaching the cabin, you noticed scattered logs and woodworking tools lying around the property. You pieced together that Logan had built this place with his own bare hands. The mess in the yard was evidence of the hard work that had gone into building this place. Each log and nail was a hommage to his skill and stubbornness. 

Of course, Logan built his own house, you mumbled. 

Your mouth fell open in awe as you took in the sight of the cabin. It was more than just a structure—it was the product of Logan's blood, sweat, and tears.

 There was something deeply personal about it, something that made you feel honoured to be allowed into this part of his life. This wasn’t just a cabin, it was his getaway from all the bad things in his life.

The cabin, his home, was a mirror image of him—rugged, enduring, and built to withstand the harshest elements.

Stepping onto the front porch, your hand grazed over the smooth wooden railings of the stairs. His craftsmanship was impeccable, each detail was carefully considered, and each board was perfectly placed. Logan had picked the perfect area to carve out for himself in this remote corner of the world.

You inserted the key he had given you before he left into the doorknob and twisted. After hearing the faint clicking noise, you pushed it open to reveal the inside. 

His home was open-concept, the entrance positioned right between the kitchen and the living room. To your left, a maroon leather loveseat sat next to a matching recliner, both perfectly aligned to face a stone-built fireplace that reached up to the ceiling. 

The walls were decorated with Indigenous paintings, each one a cultural tapestry of the land. The artwork depicted vibrant scenes of nature and various animal spirits.

To your right was a modest kitchenette, equipped with all the essentials for a life lived simply but comfortably. The centrepiece was the sturdy table and chair set that appeared to be handmade, most likely by Logan himself. 

As you ventured deeper into the space, you spun slowly in a circle, trying to take it all in, it was gorgeous. You could feel him within these walls.

 The air carried a faint, lingering scent of his cigars, a comforting reminder of him. You wondered how long it had been since he was last here, sitting by the fire, drink in hand, perhaps lost in thought. 

You entered his bedroom with a gentle push of the door, revealing a space that mirrored the simple functionality of the rest of the cabin. Like the other rooms, it was decked out with only the essentials for comfort. A large bed, a handmade dresser that stood against the wall, its wood polished smooth from years of use. There was a spacious closet, probably filled with his few belongings, and a small nightstand with a simple lamp casting a soft, warm glow.

On the nightstand, you noticed an ashtray filled with grey dust.

I wonder how many lonely nights he spent in here, you thought.

Exhausted from the long journey, you decided to call it a night. You plopped down onto Logan’s bed, the mattress was firm but welcoming and pulled the blankets around you. 

The scent of the cabin wrapped around you like a comforting embrace. As your head sank into the pillow, you found yourself drifting off almost immediately, surrounded by the quiet peace of Logan’s space.

Miss you, You mumbled before closing your eyes for the night.

Two weeks since your arrival:

Days at the cabin seemed to blend together, slipping by with an ease that was both comfortable and foreign.

 You’d been on the road for most of your short life, always on the go, always searching for the next big thing.

 But here, in this secluded corner of the world, you found yourself settling into a routine—something you hadn’t realized you craved. The mundane act of daily chores became almost therapeutic.

You had begun exploring around the cabin, finding hidden trails that led you all over the place.  One path led you to a nearby town, a small, quaint place where life moved at a slower pace. The townspeople were friendly, their lives seemingly untouched by the chaos of the world.

 You frequented the local general store for groceries, picking up a few items and some clothes to better suit this colder climate. The change in scenery was drastic for you, but you found yourself adapting, maybe even enjoying the peace that came with it.

As the days passed, the cabin began to feel like your own. The once unfamiliar space became a place of comfort, each creak of the floorboards and crackle of the fire made you unwind. 

You decided to take on some of the household chores—tasks that probably didn’t come naturally to Logan.

 Spring cleaning became your mission, tackling the tedious details he might overlook. You wiped down the insides of kitchen drawers, scrubbed the fridge, and tossed out any expired food. It felt good to take care of these small things, you were kind of being a little housewife, preparing the home for Logan's arrival.

One afternoon, while organizing the kitchen, your fingers brushed against something tucked away in the back of a drawer. 

You decided to pull it out and realized it was an old map, the paper worn and creased from what seemed years of use. 

As you unfolded it, you noticed several locations marked in red ink. The meaning of these places was a mystery, and despite studying the map for a long while, you couldn’t decipher their significance. 

Japan, Madripoor, Northern Canada, Mexico,

Puzzled, you left the map on the table. The idea was that maybe if you came back to it later, you'd see something you hadn't noticed in the first place. 

The thought occurred to you to ask Logan about it when he returned. Would he have a simple explanation or go back to shooting it down?

Over the following days, you found yourself returning to it, your fingers tracing the lines and paths, your mind wandering to what expeditions or memories these marks represented.

In these moments, you couldn't help but think, 

He’s no handyman, that’s for sure.

Three Weeks since your arrival: 

As you prepared for bed one night, the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room in a gentle, amber light. During your bedtime routine, something caught your eye—a glint of metal in the corner of the room, just beside the dresser on the floor.

 Curious, you approached and discovered a set of dog tags lying on the floor, half-hidden beneath a loose floorboard.

The realization struck you like a bolt of lightning. 

Logan had been in the military. 

It was a part of his past you had no clue about, a fragment of his story that added depth to the riddle that was him. You had sensed that one night there was a darkness within him, but now, seeing these tags, you began to understand the source of that shadow—his time as a soldier, the battles fought, and the scars born. 

Tears welled up in your eyes as you gently traced your thumb over the engravings on the tags. Each mark and number seemed to hold trauma, something that represented his time, far away from the peace of the cabin. You tried to imagine the weight of these tags around his neck during those times of darkness, and it filled you with sadness.

With a shaky breath, you wiped the tears from your cheeks. In this moment you were feeling an inexplicable connection to him through this small, metallic relic. A part of you wanted to honour his remarkable selflessness. You slipped the chain over your head and let the tags rest against your chest, giving them a gentle squeeze, a small gesture of comfort as you tried to steady the storm of emotions inside you.

The thought of Logan facing any dangers far away in Mexico seemed almost unbearable. The weight of the dog tags felt like a physical reminder of the challenges he faced, the unknown threats he confronted, and the loneliness that came with his life of constant danger. 

He survived in the past, he'll survive again. You told yourself.

You longed to have him next to you in bed, to offer him a comforting hug, but the miles that separated you felt like an eternity away.

Four Weeks since your arrival: 

After a successful day of fishing at the lake, you returned home, enthusiastic and sopping wet from an unexpected stumble into the water. Your clothing clung to you and the chilly evening air covered your body in goosebumps. You hurried inside, eager to change into some dry clothes.

Logan’s wardrobe provided a relief. You rummaged through his drawers, searching for something comfortable to wear—a t-shirt, a pair of pyjama pants, and socks. The familiar feel of his clothes was oddly comforting, a small link to him while he was so far away. After all he did only own multiples of the same clothing articles. 

As you dug deeper into the drawer, your fingers brushed against something unexpected. You pulled out a Polaroid photo, slightly crumpled and tucked away behind other items. Intrigued, you examined it more closely.

The image was of a dark-haired woman with hazel eyes, seductively bound with ropes, completely nude and captured in a moment of intimacy. The rawness and vulnerability of the photo struck a jealous chord, and for a moment, you were taken aback. The woman’s identity didn't make sense to you at all, you knew Logan was single, and there was nothing left of a female in the cabin. Even though it might've been an old girlfriend, the discovery stirred a mix of emotions—curiosity, surprise, and discomfort. 

You couldn’t help but wonder about the context of the photo. 

Was this someone important to him? 

Did he hold onto the photo for special meaning or as a memory for him?

 Your mind raced with questions, each one feeling deeper and more personal. The photograph was intimate and private. It felt like a glimpse into a side of Logan you hadn’t seen before—one that was carefree, open and playful. 

Feeling a surge of conflicting emotions, you gently set the photo back to where it belonged, buried under piles of socks. The photo had given you a lot to think about, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that it was just one more piece of Logan’s past that you were uncovering from spending time in his home.

As you slipped into the dry clothes, the warmth of the t-shirt and pyjama pants was comforting, but the image lingered in your thoughts, leaving you with more questions than answers about the man whose home you now shared.

Six Weeks since your arrival:

You were determined to light a fire inside the cabin tonight. But first thing first, you now needed to chop firewood since you had used up all of Logan's. You enjoyed the luxury of a nice warm fireplace every night and that wasn't going to end anytime soon. 

 The task was tougher than you anticipated. You huffed as you dragged some of the smaller logs onto the chopping block. You hoisted it up on it with all your might, wincing as you felt the rough bark scrape against your palms. The pain was sharp but didn't last long as you wiped the blood on your clothes, focusing on the task at hand. You had become a woman of the forest.

You picked up the axe, its weight heavy in your hands. Hoisting it above your head, you struggled to keep it steady. With a deep breath, you brought it down with all your might. The axe’s iron head split through the wood with a satisfying thunk, sending the splintered halves flying, making a metallic clang echo beneath one of the pieces as it hit the ground.

 Curious, you crouched down and peered underneath. To your astonishment, you discovered a hidden hatch covered by dirt and twigs. Your heart raced with excitement and curiosity. Dust clouded the air as you tugged the hatch open, revealing a narrow space underground.

You dropped to all fours and stuck your head down into the hatch, your breath mingling with the musty scent of hidden secrets. The space below was dimly lit by daylight filtering through the hatch, but even in the low light, you could make out the outline of a well-organized stash.

Inside, you found a collection of weapons—various blades and firearms neatly arranged and meticulously maintained. There were combat knives with polished handles, tactical pistols, and rifles of different calibres. Given Logan’s past military service, it made sense that he would keep a well-stocked arsenal on his property, even if it was hidden away for safety. Though it didn't seem completely out of the realm of expectations, the amount of weapons did make you question why he felt he needed that many. 

Had he needed to use them recently? 

Was he supplying a team or working alone? 

Even though you knew Logan was involved in violent organizations now, you still could not bring yourself to fear him. Your gut just kept on assuring you that he was a good guy and meant no harm to you. You also trusted his judgement, he had a kind heart and you were positive that if he were to hurt someone it would be for their good. 

With a final look at the hidden stash, you turned back to your woodpile, the task at hand feeling somehow more significant now. As you continued to chop the wood, your mind replayed the countless questions you now had for Logan upon his arrival. 

Eight Weeks since your arrival:

You were rummaging through the cabin, searching for batteries for Logan's radio. The radio had become a comforting presence during your stay, its music, a soothing aid against the isolation and the creeping paranoia that sometimes cropped on you. The constant thought of being alone in the vast wilderness, with the constant worry of a wild animal breaking through the door, made the staticky tunes a necessity for your sanity.

After scouring every possible location, you were down to your last hope—the top shelf of Logan’s closet. Balancing on your tiptoes, you stretched your arm up, hoping to feel the familiar shape of a battery package. Instead, your hand brushed against something sharp. You pulled your hand back quickly, wincing as you noticed a shard of glass embedded in your fingertip.

Curiosity got the better of you. 

Determined, you grabbed a kitchen chair and carefully positioned it beneath the closet shelf. You climbed onto the chair and reached up again, this time with more caution, and found the source of the sharp sensation—a broken picture frame.

Carefully, you lifted the frame and inspected it, noticing the fragments of glass that had scattered around. You set the frame gently on the floor, making sure not to cut yourself further, and turned it over to reveal the photograph behind the glass.

The picture was old and slightly faded, but it was clear enough to see the faces of those it depicted. Logan was in the center, surrounded by  X-Men members you recognized: Jean Grey, with her vibrant red hair; Cyclops, his visor unmistakable even in this casual setting; and Storm, her white hair flowing with almost ethereal grace. They were all posed together, their faces lit with genuine smiles and laughter, capturing a good, warm moment.

As you examined the photo, a wave of realization washed over you. You had heard of the X-Men in stories and legends, but you had never imagined Logan was connected to them, let alone be one of them. The presence of these iconic figures, the heroes you had only known through tales and news reports, was a clear indication that Logan was once part of something extraordinary.

This photograph was more than just a snapshot; it was a revelation of his identity. Logan was not just a lonely man with a mysterious past—he was a mutant, a member of the X-Men, a hero with a legacy that spanned beyond what you had ever understood. The contrast between the vibrant camaraderie of the photo and the isolated, battle-worn figure you knew was striking.

What in the world had led him to such loneliness and solitude? 

Why was the picture broken, had he done that to it? 

As you held the frame, you felt sympathy and awe. This discovery added a new layer of complexity to your understanding of him. These were the people who had shaped him, and it deepened your appreciation for them.

You were fast asleep until the bedroom door creaked open, and your eyelids flew open in response.

Logan.

You turned over to turn on the lamp.

His complexion had deepened from the sun in Mexico, and his hair had grown out a bit, curling slightly at the nape of his neck. He looked down at you with tired eyes and a soft, relieved smile. You had fulfilled your promise and waited for him. 

"Logan," you rasped, your voice thick with sleep. You had been waiting for this moment for weeks.

"Hi, baby. Sorry I woke you," he whispered, approaching you and kneeling beside the bed. His hand reached out to brush some stray hairs away from your face, a tender gesture that made your heart swell.

You didn’t care about being woken up. Without hesitation, you threw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight embrace. He returned it with equal strength, his strong arms wrapping around you, holding you as if he might never let go. 

You inhaled deeply, taking in his scent—different, altered by time and distance, yet still undeniably him. His hand slid behind your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he cradled you against him.

"I missed you so much," you mumbled into his shirt, your voice muffled by the fabric but laced with raw emotion. You couldn’t bring yourself to loosen your grip on him.

"So did I, princess," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. He gently nudged you back, signalling for you to look at him.

You met his hazel eyes with your own, now glistening with tears. He used his thumb to gently wipe away a tear that had escaped down your cheek before pulling you into a passionate kiss, one filled with longing and love. 

His lips claimed yours hungrily, his hands cupping your face, holding you in place as if to make up for all the lost time. You melted into him, surrendering to the moment, to the feel of his lips on yours, the taste of him, the warmth of his touch.

For the past two months, he had thought of you every single day, the memory of you his constant companion amid chaos. There were moments when he had considered abandoning everything just to return to you, but he knew the importance of his mission. He had told himself that if he could endure the pain, and the heartache of being away, he would be rewarded with the sweetest reunion.

His lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw, planting soft kisses along the way. He found the sensitive spot on your neck, and you couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped your lips. Your fingers instinctively gripped the back of his neck, holding him closer, wanting more. The sensation of his touch after so long sent chills down your spine, a reminder of the connection you shared. You tilted your head back, giving him full access, and his mouth left warm, wet trails on your skin as he explored further.

But then, without warning, he suddenly pulled away. You let out a small whine at the loss of his warmth, your eyes searching for his.

His gaze had dropped to your chest, his brows furrowed in concentration.

"Lo?" you asked softly, following his gaze. Then you saw it—the dog tags.

His fingers traced the ball chain with a calloused touch, the metal cool against your skin as he followed its curve. You felt a shiver run through you, not just from the contact but from the significance of the moment.

"I found them," you said quietly, placing your hand over his, pressing it to your chest, where your heartbeat had begun to race. "I had no clue that you had served... You know, I learned a lot about you while you were gone."

He didn’t respond immediately, just kept his eyes down, focused on your hands entwined over the dog tags.

"What did you learn?" he finally asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I know who you are, Logan... I know what you are, and I'm not scared," you said, your voice trembling with sincerity.

 "I have an idea of what you were doing down in Mexico, and I know you have the best intentions at heart. I trust you and your judgment. So, if you had to... hurt people... there, I know it’s because they deserved it. I'm not going anywhere, Logan. I'm just happy you're back and safe."

He looked up at you, his eyes searching yours. "You sure?" he asked, his voice filled with a vulnerability that took you by surprise.

You nodded, your eyes locking onto his with unwavering determination.

 "I'm sure. You're home now, and that's all that matters to me. I'm all yours," You pulled him in for another kiss. 

Logan's fire lit within him: you were all his. 

He matched your energy once more, feeding the primal hunger that had been eating at him all this time.  Your lips locked and tongues trailed on top of each other in ecstasy. You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth before biting down on it gently as he had taught you. He groaned in your mouth, gripping your hips tightly, his nails dug into your sides. 

"Lay down baby," He mumbled against your lips. You obliged, letting your back fall on the mattress, Logan hovered over you, taking in the sight of your body. His eyes trailed up and down, savouring every inch of your body for his memory. 

"You're so fucking pretty," He cooed resuming his place on your neck. You flinched from the sudden stimulation, a surprised moan escaping your lips. 

He licked his way down to the neckline of your shirt, you gripped the sheets behind you as the excitement built in your lower abdomen. 

With a swift, almost imperceptible movement, Logan extended his arm, and you heard a metallic *snikt* as his claws slid out from between his knuckles. The room, which had been filled with the warmth of your reunion, now hummed with a different kind of energy—something raw and vulnerable.

You stared, wide-eyed, as the three gleaming metal blades emerged from his hand, each one impossibly sharp and perfectly aligned. They reflected the dim light in the room, casting slender, shimmering lines across the walls.

For a moment, you could do nothing but observe them in stunned amazement. This was the ability, the weapon that had been a part of him for so long, and he was sharing it with you; how special.

You reached out, almost instinctively, your fingers trembling as they hovered near the metal. Logan's eyes met yours, searching for any sign of fear or hesitation. But you felt none. Instead, there was a deep curiosity, a need to understand this part of him.

Gently, you let your fingers brush against the surface of one of the blades. The metal was cold and smooth, the edges impossibly sharp. You marvelled at how something so deadly could be a part of the man you loved. It was hard to wrap your mind around it—how could flesh and bone give rise to something so unnatural, so extraordinary?

"They're beautiful," You hummed in delight, looking up at him with the warmest smile. 

"You're something else, aren't you?" He sighed relieved.

With a swift movement, he cut your shirt down the middle, your breasts falling out. 

"Logan-" You gasped in surprise, his smile turned dark as he retracted the claws back inside. 

"Was in my way," He smirked, dropping his face to your chest and sucking one of your nipples in his mouth. His free hand immediately finds your other one, palming your flesh, toying with your sensitive nipples with his fingers. You moan loudly, arching your back into his skilled maneuvers. It felt amazing but you needed more. More touch. More friction. More Logan. 

With a distinctive pop, he releases your nipple from his grasp.

"Please," You breathed needily. You were feeling yourself getting wetter by the moment.

He admired you from below; how your hand was gripped in the sheets over your head, how your eyelids were just barely open with lust. He kissed his way down from your breasts to your stomach, leaving a few of his marks on your body. Gentle ones of course. 

“I'm going to make you feel good, okay sweetheart?” Logan soothes, pulling down the pyjama pants down your legs with ease. You helped him remove them frantically, knowing what was about to happen next.

 “Okay, Lo-” He tosses the bottoms to the other side of the room and spreads your legs wide open for him.

“Fuck baby," He groaned as he admired your perfectly shaped core, already dripping and aching for him. 

He brought his hands to your folds, spreading them open with his thumbs. You twitched underneath his touch eager to feel some release. 

"Been thinking about doing this for a long time," He mumbled before diving face-first into you. His tongue made contact with your sensitive bud sending your back into an aggressive arch. He started slowly, licking long fat lines. You twitched at every flick of his tongue on your clit. 

He slid both of his hands to grip your thighs roughly, pushing them further open for him. He picks up his pace, moving his jaw faster against you. Your wetness drenched his face, dripping from his chin as he lapped rhythmically with his skilled tongue, applying just the right amount of pressure to inch you closer to your breaking point. 

"You taste just as good as the first time," He praised between breaths before sucking your clit into his mouth. His warm soft lips wrapped around it tightly as he pushed against it causing the most delicious friction. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the sensation. 

You were already close, you hadn't touched yourself during his absence and even the slightest touch was sending you near the edge. 

Logan was growing painfully hard against his jeans, every whimper and moan that escaped your lips made the pressure increase. How he adored having you in his mouth, seeing you up close like this, tasting your sweet honey on his tongue while your intoxicating smell filled his senses. 

He gave a slite bite on your clit as he recalled you enjoyed that last time. With a fuck, your hands snapped to his hair, grabbing fistfuls. He grinned against you doing it again, as he pressed a finger against your entrance, slowly pushing his fingers inside. You gasped as he stretched you out. While keeping up his momentum with his tongue he began to pump his fingers with it. Both points of friction accelerated your rise to your orgasm.

You’re a whimpering mess underneath him, you try to mask the noise by biting down on the pillow.

 “Don't hold back, I want to hear those pretty noises you're making darlin', ” Logan praises, thrusting deeper inside, all the way to his knuckles. You release the material from your teeth, letting out a 'gonna cum logan,'

"Cum for me princess," He moans, high off of the pleasure of eating you out. He’s devouring you, his face buried between your thighs, his tongue circling your clit. He bites down again, pulling back his fingers outside of you, you moan at the sensation. He pulls his face away from your swollen clit and slaps his hand down on your core. 

Your hips buck in surprise and the slight sharpness of the pain tips you over the edge, before you know it you're rolling your eyes in the back of your head. Logan rubs his rough palm on your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm, he pulls you closer by your neck and kisses you aggressively. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling his body down so that his chest is flush with yours. “Need you inside,” you beg, lips against his. “Need you inside.”

Logan gets up and pulls his shirt over his shoulders, discarding it in some corner of the room. He drinks in the sight of your post-orgasm frame, trying to catch your breath as he fiddles with his belt. With a few clinking noises and a zip, he pushed his jeans down, his cock springing out aggressively. 

He returns to his position on the bed, between your legs. His lips come crashing down on yours as he strokes it a few times to ease the tension. "Are you sure, baby? It might be a little much for you, I'm more than happy with just eating you out." He locks eyes with you, looking for your approval.

You grin. "I'm yours, Logan, I'm sure." You pull him in for another kiss as he pushes the tip of his cock past your entrance. Your body jolts in surprise by the sheer size of it, but with every inch he goes deeper, the more you get used to him. You moan into his mouth as he works his way into you.

His lips are on yours, he’s plunging into you slowly, down to the hilt. “Fuck,” he groans, his cock throbbing inside you. “You're so fucking tight,” he murmurs, buried deep inside of you. “I might not last long,” He lets out a dry laugh before thrusting in and out.

Your hands find themselves gripping Logan's back muscles, grazing your nails across his skin. He groaned as the stinging sensation began to tingle. 

“Taking me so well,” Logan praises, ducking into your neck and sucking on it. He pumps along your walls, his hips snapping against yours. His pace picks up, thrusts becoming faster. Your entrance squeezed around his girth as he pounded deep inside you. 

"Fuck," He grunts between breaths.

He rams into you. Over and over, his sensitive tip enveloped you, warm and wet.

 “I'm so happy I'm yours,” you moan. " Always gonna be yours.” His cock twitches at your words. You watch as his abs flex, his muscles tightening and releasing with every thrust.

 The kisses on your neck became sloppy, and his thrusts were irregular. 

His cock twitches inside you again, throbbing against your walls. You know he's close because he's moaning and pulls away from your neck looking for your eyes. 

His muscles flex as he finds your face, and he throws his head back mindlessly pumping his warm hot seed inside of you. His hands softly stroking your thigh as he comes back to his senses.

With a few other pumps, he pulls out dropping next to you in the bed. He pulls you close keeping your head on his chest. You hear his heart hammering against his ribcage. 

"That was so-"

"Needed." He finished

"Yes, needed." You agreed, tracing circles against his chest as he caught his breath.

A moment of silence passed, and you both comfortably enjoyed each other's company.

As the quiet stretched between you, the soft hum of the night outside filtered into the room, making the moment feel even more serene. Logan’s heartbeat began to slow, and the steady rhythm beneath your fingertips was soothing. You felt completely at peace in his arms, as if the chaotic world beyond the four walls of the bedroom didn’t exist.

He shifted slightly, adjusting to pull you even closer, his chin resting on the top of your head. His hand drifted to your back, tracing lazy lines along your spine, the touch intimate and grounding. It was moments like this where words weren’t necessary. The connection between you spoke louder than anything you could say.

"You okay?" Logan murmured, breaking the silence in a voice so low it was barely above a whisper. His tone was soft, tender, almost as if he feared disturbing the quiet that had settled between you.

You nodded against his chest. "More than okay," you whispered back, your fingers continuing their idle patterns against his skin. "I’m happy you’re here. Really here."

His arms tightened around you in response. "I’m not going anywhere," he said, his voice carrying the weight of a promise, the kind he rarely made.

A content sigh escaped your lips as you nuzzled deeper into his embrace, the scent of him—familiar and grounding—filling your senses. His warmth enveloped you, lulling you into a state of complete relaxation. The world outside felt distant and irrelevant, and all that mattered was this moment, with him by your side.

As the minutes passed, you both drifted into a comfortable stillness, your breaths synchronizing, the only sound being the soft rustle of the sheets and the steady beat of Logan’s heart beneath your ear. This was all you needed—him, right here, with you.

As you closed your eyes, drifting on the edge of sleep, Logan’s hand gently tightened on your hip, and in a low, teasing murmur, he whispered, "Next time, I’m going to ravish you all over again."

sorry it took so long, I started uni <3 love you guys and thank you for enjoying the Ravish series. hope yall request or stick around for more.

🏷️:@babucakes@landlockedmermaid77@theoraekenslover@loreniscrying@bpmiranda @rogueinmymind @lose1tall @2fatblunt @ltristessedureratoujours @th3mrskory @angelofthorr @strawberrylore

If you'd like to join my tagged list and be notified whenever I post new content, click ->-> HERE<-<-, instructions will follow.

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[cordeliawhohung]

Real Talk.

Hi. I wish I had good news, but I don't. This is going to get very venty and probably triggering, so I apologize in advance, but I don't want to just vanish.

I've made the decision to private pretty much everything on my account here on tumblr, and I am heavily fighting the urge to delete everything off of my AO3. I realize that I'm sort of self destructing, in a way, and I'm trying very hard not to just toss everything into the void lest I come to regret it later, but here we are.

Things in my IRL have not been great, and they haven't been good for a long while. I started up this blog a little over a year ago at the crux of my depression, fighting off extreme suicidal ideation and untreated PTSD. On top of that, I had to support my mother through marrying her abuser and watching her slowly lose herself while I helped assisted in taking care of my kid brother, and helped my other brothers through their battles with addiction. Like everyone else in the world, I've had a lot on my plate. So much so to the point that my anxiety and stress is making me sick.

For the first time in a very long time, I had picked up writing again and found it to be a wonderful outlet to really get my feelings out in a safe way. It was so freeing being able to be in control of everything, and explore the very real and scary emotions that people have otherwise wanted me to snuff out. I wish I could snuff it out. I have had no choice but to feel everything I wish I could run away from, but at least this way I was the one dictating everything. Even through the pain and the last few months of pure disassociation, this was mine.

Now, I hate it. I hate it all. I can hardly stand looking at these stories or anything I write.

I am not going to share names; and please do not go looking for this person or harass them as I'd quite frankly rather kill myself than have another glimimp situation and would probably just actually delete all my works; but something that really kicked this up was someone plagiarizing one of my works. While not exactly copy and pasted, I could compare pretty much every line they wrote to my own work. I do not mind people taking inspiration from my works, but the fact someone took it upon themselves to essentially create a "fix-it-fic" of my work was honestly the last straw for me, I think. And to just regurgitate half of what I had written like some high schooler summarizing a story?

"Kore, did you try talking to them?" The idea of confrontation actually makes me want to throw up and considering the actual issues I have going on in my real life, I don't see how it's worth getting up in arms over fanfiction. Believe it or not, I'm not really good with words, and I end up making a fool of myself and coming off way different than I intend to half the time (blame the autism I guess). And I know for a fact that it won't change the fact that I still hate it. My works. Everything I write. I want it gone. I want to purge it.

I hate The Prowl and TMTIV. I can't see myself writing for them anymore. I've tried. I had to force out the last chapter of The Prowl only to just not even be able to edit it. (Yeah when that anon sent me that ask about The Prowl? "When are you updating it next?" I literally had the rough draft finished when they sent that and was trying to edit it, and now I don't even want to look at it anymore).

And this sucks because I really do enjoy sharing my stories with you guys, but it's just not fun anymore. And if it's not fun, then why do I keep doing it? And I feel bad, especially to my patreon supporters because I definitely didn't deserve the support when I started that up, and I certainly don't deserve it anymore, but I really need to step away. For a good, long while.

I don't like dealing in certainties, which is why I'm privating everything on here rather than deleting my blog, because maybe one day I'll come back and continue. But right now it's really not healthy for me. This place has grown to become so toxic. I think I'll start focusing on original works instead. Ones I may or may not post to Patreon just... depending, I guess. Writing is still so lovely and I don't want to lose it, but I certainly can't keep it here for now.

I want to apologize to my followers, and my mutals. I cherish every kind message you all have sent to me. I appreciate how considerate you all are, and I'm sorry I don't have the energy to respond half the time. I've deleted tumblr off of my phone, so to the mutuals who want to keep in contact with me, feel free to ask for my discord or something. I'll try to get on to check tumblr every now and then for that.

In the end, I really hope this is just me having some stupid mental breakdown, and that this isn't a forever goodbye, but we'll see.

I'll hopefully be back someday (: if not, I'm sorry and I still love you.

[yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere]

❤️🤍💙 #RWRB #RWRBMovie #RedWhiteAndRoyalBlue

Casey being iconic-i just love Them so much!!

#CaseyMcQuiston

. https://twitter.com/ThisIsGSage23/status/1791335511728013403?s=19 .

"I just really wanted to explore both of those characters and I wanted to do it in a way that I hadn't really seen before, and also just like as a queer person I want to make queer art and that's what I'm drawn and that's what I'm interested in. So I kind of had these two different ideas, it was like one idea was that I would write a book about this rebellious first kid who's like figuring out that they're queer and what does that mean for their like political aspirations; and the other was about you know sort of a member of the royal family under all of this pressure to carry on this legacy and like what does that mean if they're gay. Um-And I'm just like kind of weighing these two different stories and deciding where I wanted to go and then I just kind of had this moment of like What If I didn't have to choose and it was the same story because they fall in love with each other? And-Um-You know in a classic bisexual fashion I was like I'm gonna have both, so I did!"

"It was really important to me that Alex was explicitly bisexual because like, you know, I really wanted the representation of like this bisexual character and then it was important to me that he was also Mexican like he is in the book and that he was played by a Mexican actor. (..) It was really important to me that, um, I didn't want any, I didn't want Alex or Henry, no matter how their stories were translated to the screen, I didn't want either of them to have any type of, um, like shame or resentment towards themselves for being queer, it was really important to me that the stakes of their lives and their like inner conflict was much more based on like the circumstances that they're in. It's like they don't hate themselves for being gay-or for being bi-they just wish that it was easier to be who they were in the world that they live in."

"..Taylor embodies that so beautifully. (..) I think he's just killer in that role. And Nick, I mean, if you like turned me upside down and shook me like he would fall out my brain as Henry (..) doesn't have blue eyes but they sure are sad eyes and that is exactly what they need to be."

"I see myself in Alex, tremendously, I'm very much in Alex, I relate to him so much, uh, truly, I think he's the most like me of all my characters."

"I very much would love screenwriting to become part of what I do, I'll say it that way."

BTW for everyone interested: Red, White & Royal Blue: Collector's Edition Henry PoV bonus chapter by Casey Mcquiston : https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/752528941905018880?source=share

CMQ spotify (characters' playlists!!) https://open.spotify.com/user/p873j0jdmqn5hye7cakdnub7e/playlists

+ also queer history/facts from RWRB(Alex engaging with queer history)(thank you SO. MUCH. CASEY MCQUISTON!!)-GREAT POST here on tumblr!!-many links here, lots of information! (Waterloo Vase, Stonewall, SCOTUS decision 2015, Walt Whitman, Laws of Illinois 1961, The White Nights Riots, Paris Is Burning, THAT David Wojnarowicz photo 'If I Die Of AIDS-Forget Burial-Just Drop My Body On The Steps Of The F.D.A' https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/757305651356729344?source=share (I encourage you to research more about David!!) , Thisbe & Pyramus, The V & A, James I & George Villiers and MORE!!) https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/757308307835895808?source=share (Learning about things referenced in Red, White & Royal Blue, thank you @ elipheleh)

+https://www.vulture.com/article/casey-mcquiston-red-white-and-royal-blue-the-pairing-interview.html

+https://www.hollywoodreporter.com/movies/movie-features/taylor-zakhar-perez-casey-mcquiston-interview-red-white-royal-blue-1235975977/

.https://www.tumblr.com/yourartmatters-itswhatgotmehere/758778031058862080?source=share

+

[sh0tanzz]

Who in riize do u think would like a partner who’s slightly older/younger than them, like a year or two age difference? N then who do you think would prefer someone who’s older and has more life experience? (Basically kinda in a who would want to be taken care of by their partner vs them being the one to take care of their partner type of way)

hmmmmm this may be a bit controversial I fear

RIIZE OLDER VS YOUNGER based on astrology~

reminder this is based off of MY opinions of their birth chart placements + aspects and is not exact fact unless I knew them myself and I am not a professional astrologer 🤍

Older

Seunghan

a lot of people think Seunghan would have a younger s.o but ngl..he'd probably like someone more older or at least a person that has more experience/more mature. I say this because the things he'd want the most I feel like he'd expect or more easily get from someone older. He wants someone that would be independent + confident in their place in the relationship, has experience in life in general (including partying/vices), and ngl he might want more tasteful luxury gifts so lowkey sugarmama/older gf vibes 😭.

Anton

I don't think he cares about age at all bc his chart doesn't indicate physical attributes minus the stereotypical feminine things (bouncy healthy hair, sweet perfumes, pretty nails) but I feel like he'd be best suited with someone older yk..like that would be best for him. Reason being, personality wise he wants someone mature, ambitious, independent, doesn't need to be babied/taken care of 24/7, can guide him, financial stable which is something you expect from a more mature/older person right ?

Middle Ground

alright ikik all my babygirls are wondering wtf Sungchan and Eunseok are doing here instead of the younger category but..walk with me....🤫

Sungchan

50/50 bc I feel like he can get what he wants from either age group. He has a cancer moon + leo venus so he may like reciprocity and for him and his s.o nurture or be attentive with each other OR he's ok with taking care of a younger/immature s.o & would be fine with being taken care of by a older/mature s.o. He likes someone to be educated, lowkey a little wiser and put together BUT he likes to wear the pants and be the lead/doting counterpart of the relationship. I just think he can get what he likes from either group and he probs is into cap risings.

Eunseok

Eunseok..probably just doesn't care LMFAO. As long as you're tall, hot, confident and charming he's all in. IM KIDDING OFC . but he can adapt to either relationship trope. He likes someone with a mature seductiveness thats independent and gives good concrete wise advice..BUT he also likes someone thats goofy and surprises him and has a teasing "hard to get" aura to them. So imo he'd go after either one as long as they were compatible with him.

Younger

(crazy I know)

Sohee

Sohee is typically the one being doted on and seen as the "cute" one and I just think he'd want to explore outside of that trope through his partner (sag venus tings). Plus I'm ngl Sohee's big 6 placements and his sun/uranus + mercury/mars aspects makes me feel like he'd feel kinda slowed down or restricted with an older/overly mature/serious partner. This is about to be contradictory ik but I feel like it’d be easier if said older partner had a more immature “cute” image

Wonbin

Wonbin probably likes...cliche dynamincs ngl..his taurus mars makes him feel more driven to the traditional/stereotypical dynamics yk so he's the masc and provides like the typical "oppa" type shit ykwim. Plus his Pisces Venus probably makes him idealize that type of stereotypical trope more. I also feel like an older partner would make him feel a more serious sense of responsibility and scare the shit out of him 😭😭.

Shotaro

Shotaro has a capricorn venus and I said in one post his ideal type could go either way and transition between being more playful+immature or sophisticated+mature I feel like he currently likes immature/younger partners (see how he dotes on Sohee/Anton the youngest members) but in the future would prefer someone more mature because that's just what I typically see in cap venus men,,they start with one ideal type and the older they get they switch to the other.

[staraxiaa]

sunflowers, the afterword:

author's corner/first thoughts.

okay. so. i am insane. i am a god. i just wrote 18k words for a fic that i thought of, planned, and created fully in less than two days, bc someone said i like to make ppl suffer and yes i do. but then i was like, i am GOING to write fluff and i took it personally. to that one reader, thank you!! anyways. i wrote this with the intent of using the prompt "you wanna kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid" and barely even ended up using it. i don't know whether to laugh or cry. i hope it doesn't flop but also it's okay if it does bc i literally spent almost 48 hours brainrotting and word vomiting like it's out of my brain now and this feels glorious. it was random unfiltered thoughts and grinding away at 3am until i am empty. no thoughts left in my head. can you see? i could eat the world raw, the itch has been scratched. the sheer amount of motivation i had w this fic is never happening again. cheers! will update as i think of things! sorry to anyone who ends up reading this fully. i have been unreasonably fixated and have brainrotted over this for two hours, inclusive of sleeptime. while sleeping. i kid you not. i would wake up and something would click and i would hop over to the laptop and fucking grind away i am so sick of myself

unwritten scenes, headcanons

you guys are 20. you haven't started dating yet. you're a doctor. you guys are yelling at each other. you say 'you want to kiss me so bad it makes you look stupid.' katsuki's so angry that he does. ⇁ this was the original ending btw but i thought this one kinda fit better he brings you sunflowers sometime. real ones. he's sneezing all the while. you take one look at him and you die of laughter. he's still sneezing. you tell him: you know i actually didn't even care about them until i found out you were allergic. ⇁ if i could write nsfw i would do it here like dude do u see the vision omfg a whole side plot where he's like what the fuck do you mean you weren't dating deku. you're like. what the fuck. are u stupid. someplace where you actually address how you treat midoriya, his lack of a quirk, and how you stood by and watched it all happen ua sports festival. you kick everyone's ass. #you have been trained by eraserhead and you are super duper cool i also don't remember if i included this, but: your mother asks you after the first evening. "you're not really friends are you." you say: "nope!" and it is the happiest she has ever seen you. the ua boys try to flirt with you and get hurt really stupidly a lot on purpose. you wonder why they've stopped showing up. it's bc katsuki gives them a whole earful. and you're like bitch what the fuck im a doctor and and hes just tsundere about it first kiss scene instead of the ending where he's like you care and you're like of course i do??? what the fuck?? are u stupid?? you guys start yelling at each other and you're both acting like ur 2. he calls you stupid and blind. you call him ugly. he's so mad he literally just lurches forward and kisses you. it's awkward and messy and you guys are so mad at each other. you literally headbutt him in the face. ah young love. ⇁ this was another alternative ending more exploration behind reader's character, her insecurities, and about some of the stuff i info dumped before the start of the katsuki povs? i feel like i didn't handle that as well as i could have, but i also didn't want to go on 10 billion tangents for things that had very little relevance to the story. i also think the transition to the last scene was a little abrupt, but tbh at that point i was just so ready to call it like. i just didn't see the point. i think it would have made for a more natural reading experience, so here's the tea: he's proud of u but u guys are angsty and ignore each other until after training camp. [more brainrot pining moments]. if i had to write the above scene, i think i'd do something along the lines of: you're first aid relief at the sports festival, not actively participating. dunno if you'd be nearly as badass, though. you definitely get pissed when they muzzle katsuki and probably get rly mad but ofc u cant show it. so u just unmuzzle him and walk away and hes staring after u. this is ur ??? elsa arc? i dont remember the disney princess. the training camp is torture. aizawa makes u run with them. you tell him straight up that u hate his guts. he grins like that is the best thing anyone has told him in his life. katsuki definitely blows up some earth monsters for u. but while ur not looking. he's angsty like that. the bath scene? oh lord u just know he blows mineta up. maybe he lowk fucks it up too and you have to heal it! the potential HAHAHA. i dont know how you end up getting kidnapped, but id probably just bullshit a reason like ur the #1 healer in the world hurr durr and afo wants u! idgaf if the plot makes sense or not this is entirely secondary to my scheming. katsuki just about loses it when he hears you're one of the targets -> how you get kidnapped? idk. you're not a remedial student, so you're probably participating in the game (odd number of ppl right). unsure of how i'd handle the news of your kidnapping: just know katsuki loses it again. for like the 5th time. yipppeeeeee

character notes, thoughts

your quirk is literally just you take people's injuries into your own body and heal it yourself. you're superhuman. i put 2 thoughts into this: 1) you're a healer and 2) i like cool characters. congratulations. you have now been born. i don't even remember if i kept the shouto scene. but anyways i think my bias was showing. just had to throw him in there. also the kuroo mention. sorry i'm totally normal and i mean it ⇁ btw i love you all (everyone who likes/interacts with my fics) but i joke to my friends everytime someone interacts w my first bakugo/midoriya ones from lacuna bc guys!!! my shoto fic is RIGHT THERE!!! the baby that launched the entire collection. please show him some love this reader is probably one of the favorite ones i have written, more of an oc at this point i think, and i wasn't expecting her to grow on me so much. but lowk i love her and am so proud of the way i wrote her growth!! i do feel like i wrote her very soft, but i hope her flaws were made very clear⏤ she is meant to be a sort of unreliable narrator, so she also is overly critical of her own, but there were several things that were not addressed as i was writing, particularly concerning midoriya. (quirk, the bullying, bystander's guilt.) however, i think that including them would have made me go off on a tangent, and detract more from the main point of the story i also do think i wrote katsuki a little ooc, if only because i didn't see the point of including what's already there in canon. sorry. my brainrot did not extend that far, and by the end of this, i was literally ready to drop. his perspective isn't meant to be all-encompassing (in the story, it may seem like it purely bc of how i paced it) but those are meant to be like. random thoughts that appear in several scenes. reader does not have bakugo living rent free in her head 24/7, and neither does he. they're just stupid and pining and i just wrote all the moments in my head where they do.

[just-a-ghost00]

You got mail 💌

Let’s find out what the person on your mind has to say to you. Pick one of the following emojis and discover your reading.

🌍 🩵 🌄 🤠

Group 1 🌍

I may not show it to you but I am really happy we met. Everyday with you feels like a new adventure. Though we are worlds apart and so different from each other, I really feel like we match perfectly. You make me feel like I belong. Every moment spent with you is so much fun. It makes me want to jump forward and explore. You are so sweet and generous, so playful that I can’t help but to play along. I feel so lucky being with you. There is so much I want to do with you. I want to hang out with you and get to know you more. Maybe we could have a couple drinks, play in a park, have a little date by the river… if you wish. I feel so boring compared to you. With me, everything is always black and white. But you, my love, are so colorful and bright. I wish we were a family. I wish I could wake up in the morning to find you sitting at the table, eating breakfast with a smile on your face. I wish I could share with you my favorite spots and take you to every place I get to see. I wish I could find a way to express all that you mean to me. I tend to see the glass half empty. But when I’m with you I want to believe everything is possible. You have filled my cup with your love and I am so thankful for that. I can’t find the words to tell you how much I owe to you. You’ve made me a better person and I feel like I could never return the favor.

Group 2 🩵

I may look like all is well and fine but to tell you the truth I feel hollow. And I could use some fun. I always seem so busy, always the life of the party, making everybody laugh and ensuring they have a good time. But deep inside, it’s getting tough. As the days go by, I feel my energy depleting and my motivation as well. I don’t even know why I do this anymore. I force myself for the sake of keeping appearances but honestly I’m not sure I like it at all. I’m afraid that if you dig deep enough, you wouldn’t like what you find there. I am much more fragile than I seem. Also much more mellow and soft when I get the chance. But lately I’m more of a zombie than anything. I don’t think I could bring you much joy nor comfort. I’m afraid I’ve turned bitter. It’s all about work and making sure the money gets in and less about enjoying what I’m doing. I need to pay the bills. There’s competition around. I can’t afford to lose. Everyone’s counting on me. People look up to me. I sacrificed a lot to get there. I can’t back down now. Who would I be if I did? I can’t disappoint. It’s all a masquerade but it’s for a cause. It might not look great to you but it means a lot to me. So, sorry if I’m acting cold but… it’s all for you baby. Don’t go thinking I found someone better. Believe me I don’t have the time for that.

Group 3 🌄

Hold on a minute ! I know what you’re gonna think. What the heck is he/she saying? But hey, let me explain you’ll get it ! I may not be the strongest, the wisest or the most impressive of them all but one thing that’s sure about me is that I only have good intentions for you. I am ready to fight for you if that must be done. Thought I’m not good at that. Listen, my point is I really like you. I want to be with you, have fun with you, chat with you. I want us to take our time and get to know each other and hopefully to grow old together but that’s another story. With you I feel like a kid again. Sometimes, I gotta say, the feeling can be irritating. But at the same time it is freeing. I don’t have to chose a side. I don’t have to act a certain way to be accepted by you or understood. And that’s crazy! I’ve never experienced that before. Usually I would try to conform and play nice, show my best side and stick to the plan. But ever since I met you I want to free myself of those restraints. I want to find my home. I want to express my full potential without fearing being rejected or not belonging. I know you’ll never kick me out. Because you are the same aren’t you? The things I’ve seen, what I’ve been through, you’ve been there as well, right? I want to make a promise to you. Whatever comes our way, I swear I won’t run away. Even though it is scary and seems impossible, I will always work hard and do my best to make it. I may not be exactly your type or what you imagined a partner should be, but I am willing to learn. I am willing to tune to your melody and shelter whatever we may build together, not matter how unstable it may seem. I want you to feel comfortable with me. I want you to feel as safe with me as I feel with you. So if you’ll let me, let me fulfill that promise. You won’t regret it.

Group 4 🤠

To be honest, at first I didn’t get the best of vibes from you. I was a little intimidated and didn’t want to get to know you. Especially considering what people were saying about you. But I tried to see past your exterior and once I got to know you I found out that you were very chill. Maybe it was because I didn’t know you. Maybe I feared the unknown territory you represented. Maybe I was just afraid of going deep. But curiosity got the best of me. And luckily for both of us I stayed around long enough to make my own opinion. And I have to say that you are quite surprising. I won’t lie, being with you asks a lot of efforts on my part. But every second spent with you is worth it. In your presence, I feel comfortable. Being with you reminds me of my childhood. I think of my mother and my family, of the days we spent together before I moved away and followed the wind where it took me. Every page of our story takes me deeper within. I see sides of myself I never noticed or didn’t want to remember. I remember the innocent days where doing something new weren’t as terrifying and meeting new people sounded like a thrill. Being with you I feel blessed and content. There’s a light heartedness and a warmth in my heart I wouldn’t trade for anything. When I’m alone at home you’re all I think about. When I’m at work also. There isn’t a single moment when you’re not on my mind. When I’m with you I feel hopeful. I think that maybe life isn’t as tough as I thought it would be. That maybe there is more waiting for me. Please, show me more of your different sides. Tell me more about what makes you happy. Let me in and let me see for myself what you are made of. I’m begging you don’t shut me out. I want more of you.

[tcoaal]

EDIT: i made a few small edits since i posted this

hi i might be beating a dead horse but this rant has been building up since seeing the first comments on reddit. spoilers under the readmore + i didn't want to eat your entire dash

you're all free to like or dislike or love or hate The Coffin of Andrew and Renee mod all you want but something that's been driving me absolutely bonkers in criticism of it is people saying Renee was wholesome or loving in it. i have a lot of mean words about it actually but i want to keep it civil and just say: you are absolutely completely incorrect in every capacity.

the key difference between canon gravecest and Andrew's and Renee's relationship in this mod is Renee's abuse is completely different than Ashley's. the mod is quite arguably a LOT more fucked up than the source material when you pay attention to it!

(and also one of the mcs is a milf yada yada)

this mod at the end of the day is a fanfic. it's an AU fanfic you get to play. it's a really well written fanfic! not the same as the original, and there's definitely parts that are weaker (the first half of the 303 lady scene after the summoning was really weak before it became my favorite part of the mod) but it does a decent job at exploring this story with a major plot of divergence years before the canon start of the game and how that's affecting Andrew.

Andrew is considerably more submissive when things get rough around Renee than he is with Ashley. the thing about gravecest is that it's codependent. Ashley doesn't really force or make Andrew do anything: Andrew desperately wants to blame his problems on Ashley but deep down he's just as, if not even more fucked up than Ashley actually is. this is something we could debate and discuss for hours but: this dynamic is lost with Renee, and for good reasons.

Renee was the one that forced Andrew to be the one who raised his sister. and then Renee forcibly separated them and told him if he ever had problems come to her.

Andrew is dependent on Renee in a way Renee clearly is not in the mod.

Renee's life has kinda gone to shit. getting Ashley locked up didn't magically solve her problems: her life is actually worse than in canon. her doormat husband finally found the balls to leave her, Andrew clearly resents her deep down, she's locked in an apartment and her tie to Andrew is literally the only thing she has left. and boy is Andrew infinitely worse off for that! Renee actively controls every aspect of Andrew's life one way or another, and while I dislike the first half of the Room 302 scene the ending shows that contrast.

Andrew basically mentally shuts down whenever Renee gets serious about weaponizing his dependency. Renee is somebody who forced him to raise his sister, then forcibly ripped that person from her to make herself the one he's dependent on.

this scene was really fucking haunting to watch because she actively weaponizes using what she did. she was the one responsible for letting shit get so messed up when he was a kid. and then he uses it to hurt him: and then continues to weaponize the fact she "saved" him to make him back down.

"And... maybe I said some things that weren't called for myself."

^ the exact line that sold this characterization of Renee to me. this is immediately after her exploiting his trauma, trauma she is very much directly responsible for. this isn't a happy scene. this isn't a wholesome scene. look how tired Andrew looks compared to his mother.

even when she's blatantly, clearly in the wrong she won't admit responsibility. it was Andrew's fault for acting like a child. it's his fault for lashing out when his trauma is exploited by Renee and she has to further manipulate and abuse the trust she forcibly installed into him to make him back down. but maybe she said a few bad things too. she didn't mean it though. Andrew should know better though.

anyone with half a brain can tell this is horrifically fucked up and a very different kind of control and confrontation Ashley uses: Ashley just likes to get in his face and initiate a verbal argument regarding Andrew's hypocrisy more other than not and then said arguments run their natural course. Renee repeatedly uses textbook abuse and gaslighting tactics to force the person dependent on her to back down. Anderw is not naturally "a dutiful son," as the mod describes him, Renee made him become that and regularly abuses that fact.

Renee is a lot more gungho about being a cannibal and is extremely attached to a story about a monster that eats everything that threatens her child because Renee has lost everything else of value in her life and is forcing Andrew to be close to her, constantly picking needless fights at the idea of her own son leaving her side and leaving her alone, and emphasizing that he owes it to her to stay by her side and actively controls him to ensure he doesn't leave.

like, you can feel however you want. i've seen some people hate it. i've actually seen some people who like it more than the actual game itself. i certainly have a few criticisms of it, mostly tied to its format inherently, but i'll defend it unless chapter 2 drops the ball.

but every time i see someone comment "Renee is really wholesome and loving in this mod and that's really OOC for her," or when the criticisms mostly boil down to the art style i think i die inside a bit and i cannot take that person's complaints regarding this mod seriously in any capacity. anyways thanks for listening to my insane rant if you read this far manifesting chapter 3 soon my crops are dying

[kelsochronicles]

I want to make a personal PSA post about something I think is important for anyone who follows me for my work:

If you have a deeply rooted issue with Aloy being shipped with men in any capacity, remove yourself from my space. I wholeheartedly ship her with Talanah, but I also equally ship her with Erend. And I see absolutely no issue with other people doing the same with other characters bc from my personal interpretation she is Queer- which does imply she can also be into men. And until GG comes out and explicitly states otherwise, I’m rolling with it. Her sexuality is not being diminished or erased, it’s being explored.

I’m going to be VERY CLEAR in that I’m absolutely NOT HAVING IT when I find out fellow fandom artist friends of mine are being targeted and sent anon death threats bc of their ship. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! We fan artists owe nothing to anyone! Your projected preferences are not something for us to carry around! For most of us, we use these characters as a way to improve our skills because we find them fun to draw. Makes it a lot easier to learn and experiment that way with things we click with. And when you go and shit on an artist for something you don’t like, congrats! You pretty much ruined any chance of them, and a lot of other fan artists from drawing something you do like. So you are not only depriving the community of new art, you are also depriving other people, who maybe share a similar preference to you, from getting to enjoy it also. Because we do in fact talk to each other regardless of ship. We need our little artist community to thrive.

And guess what?! I’m a straight woman myself so you might as well toss me in the hetero trash pile if you’re so repulsed by the idea of anyone liking men.

[sepublic]

People -and this did include myself at one point- really don't want to engage with the fact that Belos is modeled after white supremacy by trying to bury this under the lens of "Oh he's actually a lonely weirdo like Luz!!!" when Belos' superiority complex is the most important part of him and it's where all analyses inevitably must stem from. I think the problem is that people are too attached to their speculative fanon version of Belos and instead of letting go of that to rebuild their understanding of him from the ground up (since he's a mysterious character who is only gradually revealed bit by bit), they keep clinging to this sympathetic tragic villain as the core behind their interpretation of him. 

Everything about Belos makes so much more sense when you explore him as someone akin to a lot of right-wing 4channers; A lonely young boy who was radicalized because white supremacy promised to rescue him from his isolation, and after buying into it wholesale, he very much chose to cling onto the need to be superior to the "NPCs" even when someone close to him actually unlearns and deconstructs for him why this is harmful. He sees firsthand how someone just like him is happier for leaving this mindset, and then kills them to eliminate that contradiction threatening his world belief; At which point it’s inaccurate to infantilize him as just a lonely and misguided kid, because he’s no longer a kid and he made a very cognizant and informed choice to double down and commit actual violence.

And everyone knows that by this point, such people are not actually being sincere; They’re not secretly misguided, you can’t simply attribute their harm to not knowing better because this is what their religion says or whatever. These people know they’re committing harm, but rather than help on “lesser” people’s terms, they ‘help’ the way THEY see fit, in the way that strokes their ego. That’s what separates Philip from someone like Gwen, who humbled herself to focus on what Eda was saying she really needed. So the Titan’s summarization of Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion, and fears what he can’t control is… hardly an oversimplification, it really gets to the core of Belos as a character, and the narrative he embodies. It captures the difference between wanting to help and having a savior complex, and is what ends up delineating the two at the crucial crossroads. 

And I find it a little concerning to joke about how this type of character is “just a silly guy” when people exactly like him are on the rise and committing very real violence right now. It’s also why I don’t buy the justification behind a lot of salt about how villains need to be humanized in order to show kids how THEY can become villains, because the show is fairly outright about how Belos rationalizes atrocities under the guise of the ‘greater good’ and refuses to self-reflect, and it’s not as if we don’t have Luz learning to understand characters like Amity or Lilith, the Collector and even Kikimora (whom she DID relate to personally, yet Kiki still doubled down with or without Belos), while still having the show emphasize that they need to get their act together and can’t just depend on people to save them. 

There’s also the very obvious theme of Luz realizing she doesn’t owe her oppressor anything, especially not when he won’t ever meet her or anyone else on their terms, but idk some people just seem to hate Luz for having boundaries I guess, even though she already put in the effort to be kind and understanding to Belos and she got hurt for it. Hell the Collector made that effort after being inspired by Luz, and Luz was murdered protecting them from that mistake!!! There are some very obvious stories and lessons being told here with the actual protagonists being the heart of those narratives, but the problem I’ve noticed is that a lot of the people complaining on Belos’ behalf are those who hyperfixated almost exclusively on the Wittebane aspect of the lore, going over it with a fine tooth comb and microscope to extrapolate an entire fanon from the littlest of details… only to just ignore the actual show and narrative and themes happening on-screen. 

And that leads to many not understanding various narrative decisions because they weren’t really paying attention to the actual point they’re in service to, and then they blame the writers for their own chosen ignorance, and how the story wasn’t about their part specifically so everything else doesn’t count and the whole show is wasted potential, really. The way so many of said fans immediately turned on Luz after the finale and tried to drag her down to Belos’ level by acting like she wasn’t any better for also wanting things and 'demonizing enemies', claiming Luz had unaddressed ‘flaws’ while Belos deserved more sympathy, and framing Belos as a ‘better’ character who ‘worked harder’ while claiming Luz was retconned into an arrogant chosen one who never grew, is actually baffling.

A lot of them are just upset that Belos didn’t play the role in Luz’s arc that they wanted him to play, so they’ve opted to dismiss Luz’s overall storyline as badly written and even a reflection of Dana's 'Catholic complex' (which is a tasteless jab to make) because they neglected the nuance behind every other aspect of Luz that wasn’t directly tied to Belos, that didn’t set her up as the one person who understands him or whatever because that’s more important to them than addressing the sheer trauma and pain that Belos willingly inflicted upon Luz. Because god forbid this brown girl be angry against her white abuser, huh? God forbid the white guy be used to set up the brown main character, rather than the other way around right????? It’s really just a jealous complaint about the show’s choice of priorities and celebration, hidden under the false guise of ever caring about Luz’s arc for Luz’s sake.

And that’s how you get insincere arguments about how Belos should’ve been able to survive, that’s how you get AUs that undermine the lessons of canon to egregiously relegate Luz to being Belos’ sidekick, or even present her as an obstacle to him getting his much-needed redemption, as if that last part hinges on all of Belos’ victims getting over their pain to help him, because obviously he needs it more than they do! Because we gotta spare Belos’ feelings by giving him friends instead of consequences!!! Unbelievable. He is not Amity, not Lilith, and definitely not Hunter, and the people who forgave them had actual reason to do so. And even Lilith had to move in with her mother so she could be given reparations by someone who actually owed it to her, rather than her younger sister and two kids.

And there’s definitely a major difference between Lilith and Gwen’s dynamic and Philip and Caleb’s, especially since Caleb was also a child when he moved into Gravesfield. Even if you think Belos' bigotry was radicalized due to 'grief' over losing his brother to witches, that's just entitlement and control because it's not as if Caleb can't have more than one positive relationship in his life; Philip is no better than people who blame minorities for some incident in their life and use that as justification to become white supremacists, and there's nothing sympathetic or 'tragic' about that.

But the point is that Caleb ultimately wasn’t THAT important to Belos because he’d always be secondary to witch-hunting, Belos clearly chose his white supremacy over his brother, and any ‘takebacks’ that come in the form of the Grimwalkers are insincere given Belos does nothing to actually repent or regret his violence committed on the people of the isles; It’d have been one thing if he DID try to undo his mistake by choosing differently, by cloning Caleb and giving up witch hunting, but he still doesn’t (Note that Belos does not hallucinate the ghosts of the witches he killed; He still feels no remorse over them, because his fear of being wrong comes from a selfish place). And unlike Luz, Belos can’t have it both ways because one option explicitly calls for the extermination of the other; It’s the Paradox of Tolerance that Luz struggled with, except contrary to what Belos claims, humanity’s existence does not require the eradication of others.

Because yes there IS a meaningful moral distinction between Luz and Belos -don’t forget they’re not just parallels but explicit opposites- that occurs even before you get into the genocide, not that you should neglect that other part either because it’s incredibly important, being the starting point for this entire rant. Society already has a bias towards devil’s advocating bigotry as some big misunderstanding, and prioritizing the angst of white dudes who commit it over the victims of color; Can we avoid applying that to fiction?!??!? I literally saw someone complain that the show didn’t portray Belos’ grief from murdering Luz, and that Luz’s “glory moment” took away from a Wittebane backstory!!! At this point, people are just being racist.

[millytherat]

Reading through @badaziraphaletakes inspired me to make a post about reasons:

Why people tend to choose Crowley of Aziraphale, and, consequently, think Aziraphale is bad

This might be a long post, i'll cover some topics and i might get all over the place at some point! But please be patient! Can i get into it?

Inversion of values

When first watching Good Omens, you might expect a strong inversion of values, that Heaven is bad and Hell is good, angels are the oppresors and demons the victims

It is mostly religiously (religious trauma) motivated, aka "christianity is a fucking bullshit" motivated, to expect seeing the ones who calls themselfs good (Heaven, who we interpret as Christian religious figures) be actually bad (wich, in real life, they tend to be) and, the ones they cast out as evil and sinful (Hell, wich we interpret in this case as anyone the church calls sinful, like the queer comunity) to be good and innocent and just different, it makes us feel emphatic for them, even seeing that they are, indeed, bad

I believe some people just dont want to accept it, they want to believe the angels are inherently bad and the demons just questioned their bad ways

But they arent, if anything ALL angels and demons are naturally good and innocent, "oh but Gabriel!" He was naturally good, we saw it, the same with Michael and Uriel too, they're all just tainted by the strong grip Heaven demands for them to have; in episode 1 season 2, we see both Crowley (as starmaker) and Aziraphale being totally innocent and adorable, they're good by nature, no one in the story is actually evil

When this inversion of values we wish for isnt fulfilled, it might cause an annoyance, i know a lot of people who dont accept it, and just make it up because... well is expected!

Queerness

This was originally taken from a post of "Bad Aziraphale Takes"

Crowley is "more queer" than Aziraphale, at least thats how people see it as, in fics too, how many times Crowley gender is explored, with pronouns and labels and identities? While the more i saw for Aziraphale was a vulva or they/them pronouns, and never in a human au! Aziraphale is depicted and seem as a cisgender male

I have seem even people saying Aziraphale have internalized homophobia! I- how??

Found them! @theelastword made an ask on the "bad Aziraphale takes" blog that inspired this bit <3 thank you love

Need for a villain and favorites

As we saw, people that hate Aziraphale choose to see Heaven as evil, as the villain, and that is also followed by many people who dont hate Aziraphale! Well, might i say that... we dont have a real villain in Good Omens? The angels arent evil for wishing to follow what they believe to be God's plan, nor for deminishing humanity- but i'm getting ahead of myself here!

The need to see Heaven as inhetently bad, the big bad villain, makes people see Aziraphale, going back there "freely", hurting Crowley's feelings, saying Hell/demons are the bad guys (wich they ARE?? There is not an inversion of values!) As him being evil, as him going to the side of the villain instesd of choosing Crowley, going back to CROWLEY'S abusers, not his, not theirs, Crowley

I do believe humans have a natural need to have favorites, when you're a kid is always "wich caracther of this cartoon am i?" and later is always "wich do i relate to more? Wich do i like more?", and people choose Crowley for all those reasons above and probally some personal ones too

So! As a small conclusion:

People choose to prefer Crowley, they choose to see Crowley as better because he's a "good demon", he's the victim that fell from Heaven and hates Hell, he's the queer caracther, he's kind and genuine and helps Aziraphale and have a car he loves

Because of the idea that Aziraphale is: A) opposite to Crowley; B) an Angel! (The abusers! The bad guys! The evil!); C) a BAD angel for that matter, he's selfish and mundane and comes across as rude to Crowley (because he acts so fucking autistic too!); people tend to DISLIKE Aziraphale, small simple minded people, but people nonetheless

I know the whole post is a bit over the place, it might sound confusing here and there, but i really wanted to put all this together to try and understand why people hate Aziraphale

I though maybe this can give a small input on why people think like that, it sures helps me to understand how they think that and what they mean by their terrible takes! I guess is mostly them being naive

Oh! You know how in the 2000's the media was demonizing femininity by having blond, pink, feminine villains in their high school romances? How we, to this day, tend to see feminine girls as fake, vulgar, naive, etc? How most teen girls go through a "not like other girls phase" because of that?

Same principle! Is the same reason for why they see Heaven and Aziraphale as evil

I hope someone can appreciate this lil silly thoughs put together <3