#but i just needed to rant about these two because i love them

[redflowersociety]

Saying “I Love You” for the first time. - Mouthwashing HC

These are written with the pretense that… THEY LIKE U BACK!! (Except for Swansea cause he’s married…sorri) THIS WAS SO PAINFUL CAUSE I WAS WRITING THEM IN PARAGRAPHS AND THEN… boom. 1000+ words lost. Never writing on tumblr again, rookie mistake. Anyways, enjoy!! Promise next post will be higher effort

Curly (Pre-Crash)

He’s quick to make a teasing comment on your unprofessionalism, confessing to your captain and all. But he’s honestly super flustered and trying not to grin like a kid on Christmas Day.

He takes a moment to sit with it. It’s likely that you two would have made advances toward each other for a while, as Curly is the type to take things slow if he’s serious. After a year of pining, you two were finally dating! But hearing those words from your lips brought him to such happiness because he knew you meant it unconditionally, without expecting anything from him.

After this instance, it became common practice for both of you to remind the other of your love. Curly had never been a “words-of-affirmation” kind of guy, but this was an exception. “I love you” turned into his favorite phrase, as it was the perfect way to release the tension building in his heart from just how badly he had fallen for you.

Curly (Post-Crash)

He honestly couldn’t believe that you could stomach looking at him, let alone still sit with romantic feelings for him. It brought him to tears when he heard it, unable to comprehend how somebody could show him such boundless affection and care. He wasn’t used to unconditional love.

He forced himself through the immense pain to slur the words back, and that’s when you began to cry. He forced it out again and again, until you convinced him through pleading not to speak. You knew how much it hurt him, so you assured him that knowing was enough. You didn’t need the reassurance.

Upon your return to Earth, Curly not only had surgeries to make his face a little more structurally sound, but he had attended speech therapy to make up for the years he spent in near silence. One of the first things he learned was your name, and then “I love you.” It brought you to tears hearing it again for the first time in so long. It was okay though, as he could hold you in his scarred arms as long as you needed to cry it all out.

Daisuke

At first, he thought you were being silly. “Aww, I love you too,” he giggled. It wasn’t until you spoke up again with a more serious tone that he realized, and you swear you’d never seen a man turn red so fast. He was so taken aback, asking you at least five times if you were serious and if you were sure. Once his nerves were satisfied, he returned the gesture.

“I love you too. Like a lot, a lot. Soooo much. Like, I really thought I was tweaking out or something from like, the way my whole body would go numb around you and my brain would get fuzzy-“ his drawn out explanation on how his romantic feelings for you overwhelmed him made you laugh. Within the next day, you two were dating.

Even before you two got together, Daisuke ranted to anybody who would listen about just how perfect you were. Now? Oh, man. Swansea has been really considering throwing him out into space after hearing about your confession for the twentieth time from his loud-ass mouth.

Anya

It was honestly a relief to her that you had said something first. She had been trying her best to stay professional, but seeing you all the time, your smile and laugh, the way you spoke passionately about what you loved; it made it harder every day as she fell further for you. You were one of the first people she grew close to on the Tulpar, and the first she went to when Jimmy… did what he did. The trust between you both was ample and strong.

She was quick to say it back, like it was a breath of air she’d been holding in way too long and needed out. You two laughed from the sheer relief on her face, teasing her thoroughly about it. She didn’t hesitate to grill you right back for being the one who confessed first. It shut you up pretty fast. You both agreed within the hour to start dating!

There were mixed reactions among the crew. Some extremely supportive, and then some straight up bitter and resentful (Jimbo). Jimmy began to treat you especially cruelly, and you refused to stand by and let it happen. Curly also helped to defend you when he could, seemingly coming to his senses about Jimmy’s behavior. You could tell that Anya felt intense guilt for your pain, but you assured her that it wasn’t her fault. It was your decision to date her knowing everything you did. You were happy by her side. She certainly cried over that privately, completely enamored.

Swansea

Swansea is married, so he knew to take your words in a familial sense. He didn’t return it, saying something like, “You’d better kid. With all I do for you.” But when you him on his lonesome in the utility room? Yeah, he smiled about it.

f you had a bad childhood due to your parents, Swansea could tell pretty quick. He never considered it his problem, but even still, he took you under his wing with Daisuke. He wanted to give you guidance in the ways he knew how. You deserved that, at least. He would go out of his way to help you when you needed, mostly with solving practical problems. He had never been the most emotionally aware, but he tried with you. He figured even if he couldn’t assist you much, it’d be good practice for his daughter on the way.

That’s not to say he never had any advice. He struggled to comfort, but he was quick to pick up on your mistakes and told you the blatant truth. You appreciated that, even if he was harsh at times, cause it helped you become a better person.

Jimmy

Your confession was certainly an ego boost, but nothing past that. He couldn’t believe that you could say something like “I love you” to someone like him without there being pity behind it. Even still, he returned the gesture because he knew that getting with you would make you so much easier to use. He took the opportunity.

The entire crew, aside from you two, were completely flabbergasted when they found out you two were together. Swansea was quick to ask “Why,” hoping to understand the reason behind such a horrible decision on your part. He didn’t get a good answer from you. Anya felt such pity for you, sure that a good person like you had been manipulated into that position. Even still, she couldn’t help you without putting herself in danger, so she kept her distance.

After the crash, Jimmy took out all his frustrations on you in private through abuse: sexual, physical, verbal, and however else he felt in the moment. Nobody was confused when you started wearing more covering clothes beneath your uniform. Swansea was the only one to really step up against Jimmy when he found that he was hurting you. You had to beg Swansea not to kill Jimmy for that alone, and even still, jimmy got a beating. Daisuke checked on you as much as possible, worrying constantly for your well being. Curly found your relationship to be one more thing to feel guilt over, as he once again couldn’t do a single thing to protect somebody from him.

[kurosagi-h8r]

I think it would be fun if darkwick has like a radio committee/club where they would read anonymous messages/letters for the school. Maybe they can invite the students as guest speaker too. I need Ed to be invited only for him to be like joke around and just beating around the bush haha hihi and then he dropped some big scandal/secret for all the school to hear.

How it works is the host will announce who the next guest speaker would be and then people can send anonymous letters, it can be about the guest or anyone, then the guest will have to read the letter there. On a live radio.

Yuri will either rant about darkwick general or openly threat frostheim students and endangering the radio committee.

Jiro will actually be pretty normal and give tips regarding student health. Until he read one anonymous letter with smth like love confession or poetry that's soooo Zenji style and he'd be like "...where did you get this?"

Subaru reading anonymous letters (sent by Leo) to corner him into spilling the beans about himself. Poor guy would struggle in front of the mic.

Can I be biased here? I want Haku to read a bunch of love letters lololol (i would send him tons tbh) JUST TO HEAR HIM oh-so-seductively CHUCKLE EVERY 5 SECONDS LETTER AFTER LETTER until I realize I wasn't the only one because some girl two seats away from me is giggling to herself hearing Haku reading her letter out loud. "Ahaha... so many love letters, are you guys sure it's all for me? All your love??? For a guy like me? I must've been a hero in my past life."

As for Tohma he would either read complaints or blatant complaints from another Frostheimers (i feel like he could tell just from the handwritting alone that the sender is from his house) and after reading the entire content he would go, "Thank you for the heartfelt letter, MR FUJI. I'll be sure to assess myself better but I would need more detailed information on your view regarding my performance as the Vice Captain. Please come to the Vault and be sure to come on time after this radio session. Should you be too busy, I can always interro– I mean interview your closent friend, the honor student. After all I don't mind having her attention all to myself." Or something along the line bcs he'd play dirty like that. (That's so hot of him tho i would at least admit it)

Sho wouldn't really be a guest speaker but if the radio committee needs to make some quick buck they could open a paid promotion and you would hear the committee promoting HTH lol. Like telling the audience about Discount of The Day that you wouldn't know unless you listen to the radio.

Also Haru would probably do the same too! He would want the radio to promote the safari lol.

Ritsu... can the committee even convince him to spare some time in his schedule to be their guest speaker? Would he charge them money? 😭 What if he starts spouting some laws about some legal wrongdoings the radio committee has done (which they didn't even realize) just by making this whole radio thing A THING.

Kinda same with Ritsu, the committee would have to pay Romeo for him to come. I just wish Kaito would send him a letter and everyone would hear Romeo curse tf out of that letter. I think by the end of the session he should put a bounty on Kaito's head. Just because.

What if someone say some bad things about Haru and then Towa IMMEDIATELY storm the studio or zap the radio tower 😭

Mizuki Rui dating advice session? Mizuki Rui dating advice session. Just like Haku he would receive anonymous love letters (or not anonymous. Honestly i would be bold too if it's him). They'd be such a huge confidence booster for him lol and he would give the senders cute nicknames if they're not anonymous.

There has to be messages about the teachers too. Hyde reading anonymous letter in which he could tell Sho was the sender. Students shit-talking about Moby and his weird ass idol obsession (i would be the sender just watch), *cough* students being nosy about the relationship between Benkei and Nicholas *cough* well well MC PLEASE MAKE THIS RADIO A PLACE FOR YOU TO LET YOUR HEART OUT PLEASEEEE YOU SHOULD BE GIVEN A FREEDOM OF SPEECH AT THE VERY LEAST 😭

The rest of them would either not care enough about the radio or become the sender. Leo would prefer to be the sender, i think. Ren would only send anonymous letter when Haru is the speaker to let everyone knows he dislike him and dislike being put in Jabberwock. Zenji will always send his poetry and probably most speakers would find it hard to understand his works, let alone reading them out loud 😭 Zenji himself would love to be the speaker but oh well~ still, it's an opportunity to spread positivity and hopefully he can brighten someone's day with his work.

[areyouwell]

Hii I love your Phobophobia series so much, can you do a little one shot of flashback from the relating series? Something like a day in their life back when they're still in that gateway forest cabin house.

They spend quite some time there, I remember a brief scene where Logan made a DIY gift for the reader's birthday and it was the CUTEST thing ever, or the framed picture of him reader's put on the counter. I just need to get know more of what happened like a reality tv show lmaoo. When it's only the two of them most of the time, isolated. Surely there'd be time where they'd get sick of each other, but they couldn't ask for more, and they wouldn't ask for more, they only have each other.

i have no restraint when it comes to these two... as much as i wanna focus on my new long series i just can't quit them

'Prisoner of My Past' – A Phobophobia Oneshot

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI

Word Count: 8.1K

A/N: if y'all keep requesting them, y'all are gonna get em. here's another firefly and logan oneshot, taking place after 5.5 and before 6. smut, angst, fluff, what else could a girl need?

Taglist: @badbishsblog @reidsworld @idioticstar @toogaytofunctiondangit @ghostyv @wolviesgirl @over-bi-the-wayside @justice4billiam @holyhumorliteraturelight @cxptainbuck @sseleniaa @sadslasher13 @yallgotkik @whyamistillontumbler @maddiedinosaur @bethexo07 @pwpwppeepeoor @y08h

The slightest breeze kicked up the light, sheer curtains of the cabin window, the approaching autumn heavy in the air as your brows furrowed instinctively. Pulling the covers closer around your neck and burrowing further into the furnace warmth of Logan’s chest, a croaky groan of disapproval rumbled from your throat. 

Too early. Once again you’d woken up too early. 

A soft smile of adoration pulled at Logan’s lips as he tightened his hold around your body, already knowing you’d woken up in an irritable mood because you had indeed woken up before ten in the morning. He didn’t say anything, knowing you’d rather attempt to gaslight yourself into believing you were still asleep for a few more minutes before you’d finally accept that you were conscious. Still, he pressed a light kiss to the crown of your head, his way of telling you he was awake too. Whilst you didn’t quite have the same appreciation for mornings that he had, there was still no other way he’d rather spend his time. Curled up with you beneath the plush duvet and various quilted blankets with the window cracked open, just the way you liked it. The only downside was the sun. And oh boy was it making a bright debut this morning

You shifted again, pressing your nose into the hollow of his throat as if you could simply assimilate yourself into his body and escape the reality of having to open your eyes. But you weren’t that kind of mutant, unfortunately. At least, not that you were aware of…

“Ready yet?” He murmured into your hair, voice thick and scratchy with sleep in a way that made you shiver slightly. Smug bastard knew the effect his voice had on you, and had, on more than one occasion, used it to borderline seduce you out of bed. Not that you hadn’t turned the tables, and seduced him into bed. But this was different. This was unfair. Because it was happening to you. It was fine when you did it…

You answered with another long groan of malcontent and a huff of resignation, before finally removing your head from the comfort of his neck, blinking away the remnants of the sleep you so sorely wished to return to. 

“Hey.” He grinned with a raised brow. After the first few times of you reminding him that the concept of a ‘good morning’ didn’t exist and was stupid, he decided to drop the whole ‘mornin’ thing altogether, despite being content to lie back and listen to you rant about it for the next twenty minutes.

“Time?” You asked gruffly, not having the energy to lean up a fraction and look past him to the bedside clock.

“You really wanna know?” 

“Good news or bad news?”

“Depends on who you ask.”

You huffed again, your forehead falling forward to rest back into his chest. “So that’s bad news then.”

A deep chuckle rumbled from where your forehead rested, and you almost thought waking up this early was worth it just to hear that. Almost.

“It’s before ten.” You could hear his shit-eating grin, clearly thrilled you were up earlier than the goddamn worm before it’s eaten by the bird. 

“How long before ten? There’s a difference between five minutes and fifty.”

“Then you definitely don’t wanna know.”

You looked up from his chest with a deep, irritated scowl, before mustering up the courage, and the energy, to prop yourself up on your elbow to look at the digital clock by his bedside. 

You almost fainted. 

“Three minutes past nine? Three minutes past nine?! Times like this shouldn’t fucking exist. There was a reason I scheduled all of my damn classes in the afternoon. What do people even do this early in the morning? Sit around and wait for the day to start?” You lamented, flopping back onto the pillows before Logan could take advantage of your change in position and remove his arm from beneath your body. It’s fine, he didn’t need to feel his hand anyway…

“Hate to break it to ya Firefly, but most people would be at work by now.”

“Disgusting heathens.”

Logan snorted a laugh, shifting himself to lie atop you, blanketing you with his own body. You found it comforting, like the world’s warmest weighted blanket that could also double up at a stress toy when your hands needed something to knead into. You savoured the way he’d almost purr when your fingers dug into the hard muscles of his shoulders or back, working through stiff knots until he melted into your chest. But this time your deft fingers wove through his hair, simply playing with the soft brown strands as you slowly woke yourself up, the scruff on his jaw scratching against the skin of your collar. Your nails scratched lightly against his scalp and you felt the telltale, purring sigh dust your chest where he’d turned his head to listen to your heart.

“Ya know…” he began, his voice taking on a different gravelly tone to the one he woke up with, and you could already sense where this was going. “There are ways to make mornin’s like this worth wakin’ up for,” he turned his head to rest his chin on your breastbone, heated desire swirling in his dark gaze.

‘Mhm? That so? And how, may I ask, could waking up this early be so worthy?” You loved these little games you played together, the rhythms you danced. Logan pushed himself up on his elbows to barely hover over you, and you didn’t miss the way his arms flexed slightly as he worked his way back up to your neck, tracing his lips up from between your breasts, over your collarbone and to the side of your throat, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. Your body slowly smouldered to life, your fingers still tangled in his hair as he littered the side of your neck with little nibbles and sharp bites, smoothing over the small hurts with his tongue. Your breath hitched in your throat as he sucked a light bruise against the scar on your pulse point, his hands braced either side of your head. 

“I could start from here…” he murmured against the lobe of your ear before pulling it with his teeth, revelling in the way he could smell your sweet arousal building between your thighs. He went back to suckling deep purple blossoms into the skin of your throat, leaving the side of your head tingling deliciously from the attention.  “‘N work my way down…” he did as he said, indeed working his way down from the side of your jaw to your collar, grinning against the bone as you shivered a quiet gasp when his hand skirted from aside your head to brace against your waist, his thumb smoothing soft circles against your skin. 

Your eyes fluttered closed, breasts aching for him to finally claim what was his and seal his mouth over your peaked nipples, but he did nothing but tease you, tongue darting out to lap between where you needed him most. Well, not most, but you knew when he was in this kind of a mood, it was going to take a while before he was where you needed him more than anywhere else, the apex of your thighs already slick and ready for him. 

Logan looked up at you through dark lashes, committing to memory the way your brows pinched when he neared the peak of your breast, only to furrow again when he moved away to work up the other as if he couldn’t decide which he wanted to take first. He knew it was cruel for him to tease you this way, and he knew you could give it just as much as you got, maybe even more, but at this moment, he truly didn’t care. If you decided later to bring him to the edge only to leave him high and dry, he knew it would be worth seeing you like this. Submissive. Impatient. Yearning. Desperate. 

Your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, lips sandwiched between teeth when his tongue circled the tip of your breast, and you could only arch your back so far before he took pity on you and enveloped your sensitive pebble with his warm, wet mouth. You keened, head falling back onto the pillows as your fingers in his hair encouraged his movements, a disobedient whine flying from your gated lips as he sucked gently, his tongue flicking over and over the perked bud. 

A low groan rumbled from his throat, heightening the soft sparks of pleasure he delivered with his mouth, already feeling his need for you throbbing against your thigh, his hips grinding against your soft skin. But he wanted to take his time. After all, you’d woken up much earlier than normal, and things like that should be rewarded. Drawing in a deep, slightly shaky breath, he nipped across your plush chest, scraping his teeth over where he knew you were most sensitive before settling his mouth over your neglected nipple, drawing another breathy whine from your lips. 

“Logan…” you sighed, squeezing your thighs together and unknowingly providing more for his pulsing cock to grind against. His eyes fluttered closed as muted ecstasy fogged his mind from doing nothing but grazing his tip along your inner thigh, his teeth clamping down lightly on your hard bud. You gasped airly, and Logan wished he could capture the sound in a bottle.

Descending further, he took his time kissing and lavishing the various scars across your stomach, making sure to run his tongue along each one at least once, even as your body quivered with wanton anticipation and your hips rose needily into his chest. 

“All the way down to here.” You’d completely forgotten he was explaining what he could do to make the morning worth it until his gravelly, lust-laced voice rose from between your thighs, his hands now braced against your hips to hold you still. Your scent wrapped around his addled brain, pulling him closer to your slicked cunt and your teeth sank into your lower lip just as he moved to swerve your heat altogether, his lips attaching to the needle-point scar to the left of your inner thigh.

Frustration kindled in your chest despite the tickling pleasure of his mouth, the rough surface of his bears scratching deliciously against your velvet skin, sending a mixture of feelings through your scalding blood. Your fingers twirled through the strands of his hair, pulling harshly in an attempt to shift him to where you truly needed him most, but it resulted in nothing but a huffed groan and a sharp nip as if he was reminding you to behave. You tensed your jaw hard enough to hear your teeth grinding together, the ache between your thighs becoming almost unbearable, that needy pulsing of your walls begging for attention. 

It was taking all of Logan’s self-control to ignore the call of your sweet arousal, to push down his instincts to devour you and continue on with his constant, lengthy teasing. Until you tugged on his hair again, a shiver running down his spine as he grinned wickedly against your thigh, his leaky cock jumping with equal need. 

You cried out the moment his nose nudged your clit as he practically nuzzled into your throbbing pussy, his tongue finally darting out to lap up the honeydew nectar dripping from your heat. And the moment he tasted you, he couldn’t hold back. Lewd groans and wet smacks filled the air as he devoured your aching cunt, lashes of pleasure struck your body with each desperate suck of your clit. 

“Fuck…! Logan… Logan!” You gasped his name through harsh pants and airy moans, your voice unrestrained as he dragged you closer and closer to that edge after working you up for so long. Your spine arched, hips undulating against his waiting tongue, and he loosened his grip on your waist to allow you to ride his face, relishing the desperation of your movements. His lips latched onto your throbbing pearl, freeing one hand and teasing his fingers around your entrance, inhaling sharply as your nails scratched up the sides of his neck. 

Achingly slowly, he gifted you the ecstasy of his fingers, your velvet walls instantly clamping down on the sudden, welcome instruction. Fuck he could feel you pulsing around him as his digits curled inside you, and he burned to feel you around his cock. With steady, careful ministrations, he heard your voice crack slightly, a telltale sign of you getting teasingly close to achieving your high. 

Your head snapped back as the pads of his fingers grazed that little bundle of pure lightning deep within your cunt, your entire body shaking as you teetered on the precipice of euphoria. “Th-there! Don’t stop… Fuck yes, Logan ‘m so– so close!” You trembled, subconsciously proud of yourself for even being able to form a coherent sentence with your mind so blissfully blank with pleasure. 

He growled in affirmation, pulsing his fingers against the rapturous key to your release until he felt your thighs clamp around his head and breathing became almost impossible. A broken wail stuttered from your lips as he finally pushed you over the edge, fractured gasps cried into the ceiling as warmth flooded your senses, feeling nothing but the unbearable ecstasy of his tongue and fingers. 

Your hips ground senselessly against his mouth, wave after delectable wave of release coursing through your nerves, your sharp nails sinking into the sinewy muscles of his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, every fibre of your being set alight by his wicked ministrations. And in true Logan fashion, he didn’t stop, and it wasn’t long before sharp spikes of sensitivity shocked your system that had you frantically pushing him away, giving yourself a moment to recover. 

You hissed a curse as you floated back into your trembling body, dark chuckles fanning up your body as his slick mouth crawled back up to your neck and you were barely able to shift your boneless arms up with him.

“Worth it yet?” He asked, voice husky from groaning into your cunt, and you managed a crooked grin, chest still heaving with the intensity of your orgasm. You didn’t quite know how to articulate that, even if he hadn’t just sent you to nirvana and back, just waking up by his side and seeing his face makes early mornings worth it. 

“Mmm, not quite, but it will be.” You hummed, your fingers leaving the tangled mess of his hair to ghost down his chest, dancing across the prominent vein at his naval before dipping lower to gently grip his cock, feeling it hot and heavy in your hand. Logan’s features slackened, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly dragged your palm up and down his shaft, circling his sensitive tip and using the copious pre-spend as a natural lubricant. His jaw fell open with heavy breaths, abs flexing as he thrust into your grip and you could see the muscles in his shoulders tense with restraint. 

Wrapping your still slightly shaky thighs around his waist, you gave his member a small squeeze before swiping his tip between your soaking folds, clamping your lips together to silence your oversensitive whimpers when he nudged the hood of your clit. Slowly rolling his hips, Logan breached your heat, loosening a low groan into the side of your neck as you welcomed him eagerly. There were few moments he’d feel more at peace than when he did buried deep inside your cunt, wrapped in the clenching velvety walls at the apex of your thighs. 

And he could feel the way you deliberately tensed around him, gripping him like a vice as he drew back. Clenching his teeth, he could already feel himself wanting to fill you, wanting to claim you as his own here and now, despite having done just that countless times before. His fingers gripped the sheet on either side of your head as he managed to find a steady rhythm, almost teasing himself with the promise of the earth-shattering release he knew he’d find. He always did when it came to you.

“Always feel so good, sweetheart. S–! So fucking good.” He stuttered, a shock of ecstasy catching him off-guard as you sank your nails into his shoulders. The gentle roughness of your scratches always sent his mind reeling with the paradox, and in response he circled his hips slightly, grinding into that spot only he could reach. You’d confessed once that you’d never managed to make yourself cum like that, and it inflated his ego tenfold knowing that only he was able to bring you that kind of brain-numbing pleasure. 

“‘M yours, Logan…” you whispered like a secret, sending a shiver down his spine and a pulse to his cock. His hips stuttered into yours, losing control of himself briefly before he found himself having to still completely, lest he came before you did. You sent him a knowing grin, tensing around him as if to seduce him back into the rhythm he’d previously set. 

“Say that again.” He almost pleaded, and your brows pinched as your efforts proved successful, only this time there was a primal brutality to the way he started to thrust into you, his back arching with the slicing pain of his claws sliding through the skin of his knuckles, providing more pleasure than hurt.

“I’m yours. Belong– Fuck! Belong to you…” Your voice hitched slightly, head pitching back as your second release of the morning bubbled just below the surface. Logan growled into the side of your neck, carefully freeing his hand from the tangle of sheets and mattress filling to wrap around your thigh, lifting it higher to sit at his rips, nicking his own flesh with his claws as he did. An involuntary gasp sailed from his lips, another strike of lightning igniting his blood as he felt you tremble around him, your high so fucking close. 

“Mine.” He snarled, catching your earlobe between his teeth as he shoved his claws back into the padding of the mattress, your nails sinking deeper into his shoulders as you canted your hips onto his pistoning cock, your moans climbing higher in pitch before getting caught in your throat altogether. There was the briefest moment of silence before you tipped over the edge, back into the ocean of pleasure you’d just crawled out of. 

Logan sank his teeth into the space between your neck and shoulder as you shuddered uncontrollably around him, your entire body spasming with utter bliss as you rode him through your second orgasm, your nails dragging from his shoulders to his back, down over the tense muscles running down either side of his arching spine. How he managed to hold out whilst you soared through inconceivable ecstasy was a testament to his self-control, and only when you were coming back down did he continue, now chasing nothing but his own release. 

“Yours… ‘m yours.” You repeated almost like a mantra as your mind blurred for a moment, before returning with a clarity you hadn’t felt since waking up that morning. “All yours, Logan…” you whispered with renewed intentions. Leaning up slightly, you clenched around him once again, dragging a low, desperate moan from the depths of his chest before you murmured something that sent him flying over the edge. “And you are mine.”

Logan’s eyes screwed shut as you sank your teeth deep into the side of his neck, his jaw locking open as he stuttered a roaring gasp of your name, his cock jolting and pulsing as he shot rope after thick rope inside you, a firestorm of pure, unadulterated pleasure coursing through his system. He could feel the warm trail of blood trickling down his shoulder from where you’d bitten into him, the sharp sting only causing him to lose control of himself completely, his hips bucking wildly into your cunt before he stilled inside you, chest heaving, mind hazing, cock throbbing. 

The coppery tang of blood invaded your mouth and you were worried for a moment that you’d gone too far, but the way he sagged onto you, uncaring of his weight, told you otherwise, and you watched the wound stitch back together with the same fascination you felt when seeing it for the first time. 

He was dead. He must be. There was no way he could have come back from that. Everytime you fucked, he swore it just kept getting better, and he reached a new height with each release. Cracking his eyes open, he could see the three deep veins in the mattress left behind by the slashing of his claws, stuffing and fluff scattered across the floor and the bed. He knew he should move. Knew he should probably roll off you and let you breathe, but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t think he could. It was rare the Wolverine felt little to know strength, and every single time he did it was little after spilling into your welcoming cunt. 

With a soft hum, you thumbed away the little trickle of blood down his neck before your fingers wove through his soft strands of sweat-damp hair, chuckling lightly as he groaned in exhaustion. You knew it wouldn’t last long, and if you continued, he’d be hard again in a matter of minutes, but you couldn’t stop the yearning to soothe his pretty head. 

“Almost tore your throat out… sorry.” Though, from the sounds of it, you didn’t sound sorry at all. If anything, you sounded almost proud of yourself. Logan breathed a sigh into the side of your neck, feeling too heavy to do much other than shift slightly, pulling himself from your heat. 

“‘N they say I’m the animal,” you giggled wickedly at his words, though your expression softened almost instantly as he looked up at you, eyes full of nothing but sheer, pure devotion. “Christ, I love you.” He murmured, before finding the willpower to raise up onto his forearms and roll onto his side, tucking you in tight and taking you with him, his lips sealed to yours in a passionate, languid kiss. 

“I love you too.” You responded, your tone hushed as you basked in the afterglow of the morning. “Definitely worth waking up for.” 

Logan scoffed, but the sound warmed your heart because his little, disobedient smile meant everything to you. He meant everything to you. You sincerely hoped he knew that. With everything that was going on. Kreva, Jade, the file, your past… you hoped he knew that, despite all of that, he was what mattered most to you. 

And something shining in his eyes told you he did.

It was early afternoon by the time you and Logan managed to peel yourselves away from each other for longer than two minutes to hop into the shower, as dismayed as he was for you to wash his scent from your body. He made sure to hold you the entire time, from the moment you stepped in the shower all the way to heading down the stairs and starting breakfast. Or brunch. Or whatever the equivalent of an afternoon fry-up was. 

Logan set his chin atop your head as you shimmied the pan of bacon, his arms wrapped snugly around your waist as he swayed the both of you to silent music, pulling a small chuckle from your lips. 

“If I burn myself I’m blaming you.” You murmured, leaning further back into his embrace as you carefully set down the pan.

“I’ll kiss it better, don’t worry.” He responded lowly, doing just that to the various deep purple blossoms across the side of your neck, a delicious reminder of thirty minutes ago when he was pulling you to the edge of insanity. You never reprimanded him for the marks he left behind, never scolded him for the bruises he sucked into your skin because truthfully, it drove you crazy. His animalistic instinct to mark and claim you called to your desperation to be claimed. To belong. And you’d be lying if you said you would refrain from disappearing into the shadows for a good long while after. 

You breathed a contented sigh, wondering just how at peace you were feeling considering your circumstances. You’d been here for around a month at this point, falling into a steady routine. A few days of the week Logan would head out to handle little jobs for extra cash, from fixing up old cars with the local mechanic Todd, to removing trees and branches for the locals in the next little town. And he’d always come home with whatever provisions the two of you needed. Running out of milk? He’d come back with a few long-life cartons. Needed more flour? He’d come through the door with another two bags of all-purpose, or self-rising if you were baking bread that day. 

And you loved it. You truly did. However, there were some days you couldn’t help the cabin fever. You needed to get out. You needed air, a change of scenery, anything. It was a conversation you’d had a few days after you’d arrived, and he insisted you didn���t need to leave for any reason. But you’d failed to mention that maybe you wanted to. 

“We’re running out of eggs…” you tried to keep your tone as nonchalant as you could, glancing over to the tray of a dozen empty little egg cups, the remaining two about to be cracked and fried along with the bacon. 

Logan hummed thoughtfully, his chin dipping into the top of your head as he nodded. “I’ll pick some up tomorrow, Mrs Whitethorn wants some firewood for the colder months so I can grab some on the trip and– what?” He’d sensed something was up the moment you opened your mouth, knowing you better than the back of his own hand at this point. And when you sighed slightly at his resolution, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I just… maybe I could grab some? Ya know, we’ve been here for a month now and nothing’s happened so–”

“No.”

You clenched your teeth together, flicking off the gas to the stove and stepping to the side so you could turn and face him. “Logan, we’re safe here. Nobody knows where we are. Not even the Professor. You said it yourself. What’s going to happen on a quick trip to the shops? Because that’s all it would be. A quick in and out. No faffing, no lingering, just a change of pace.”

“We’ve already had this discussion.” He responded, his voice taking on a hard edge. 

“Yeah, well, I want to have it again.” You mirrored his change in demeanour, folding your arms across your chest defensively. 

“And what coulda possibly changed in the last month? They’re still lookin’ for ya, an’ people talk. Ya think nobody’s gonna whisper that there’s a new girl in town? That’s how things get outta hand. That’s how he’ll find you.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but terrified frustration was starting to make it impossible. He didn’t want to argue about this. He didn’t want to fight about this. This was the safest option and he wasn’t going to budge.

“It’s a tiny fucking town in the middle of nowhere, who’re they gonna tell? Their neighbours? You’re right, we’re fucked if Mrs Whitethorn finds out you’re living with someone,” you spat sarcastically, the lonely days he was away feeding your claustrophobic irritation. “They don’t even know I’m a mutant! I’m fairly certain they don’t know you’re a mutant.” The shadows in the room started to grow and twist, silhouettes exaggerated, disproportionate to the casting furniture. But Logan didn’t back down. He was used to it by now, the way the leash on your mutation would slip whenever you were experiencing heightened emotion. 

“Look, Charles asked me to keep you hidden and safe, so–”

“Oh, that’s why you’re here? Because Charles asked you to be here? Well, excuse me for thinking you did this out of any kind of concern for me. I should have known Charles would just get his fucking guard dog to deal with the situation. Shoulda been here two years ago, maybe you coulda accompanied me when he sent me away! Made sure I didn’t murder anyone else in cold blood.”

“You’re insane.”

“And this shocks you? You say that like you didn’t know this already, Logan. Newsflash, I was always insane! But that’s what you fell in love with! Insane ol’ me, running around, scaring the kids, endangering her team. Yep, that’s me!”

“Why’re you bein’ like this? You’re behaving like a fuckin’ mo–” Logan stopped himself, a flash of hurt whipping your features before your eyes turned hard, jaw clenching. 

“Go on. Say it.” You hissed, daring him to finish his sentence. But he kept his silence, simply returning your venomous glare. “Like a monster, right? That’s what you were going to say, isn’t it? You’ve read the file, Logan, you know just how much of a monster I really fucking am.” 

Logan snarled, tearing his glare from your daggers and snatching his coat from the hook. He couldn’t be here right now. He couldn’t be around you right now. You both needed to cool off, and there was no chance of that happening whilst you were both in the same house. 

“And just where do you think you’re doing?” You spat accusingly, eyes narrowing.

“Out.”

“Must be nice to be able to leave whenever you want. Send me a postcard, will you? I’ll be here because apparently I’m on fucking house arrest!” You shouted as he slammed the door behind him, the only confirmation you had of him actually leaving was the rumble of the truck’s engine and crunching of gravel as he drove off. You screamed in frustration, the shadows around the house whipping and lashing out in similar rage. The shattering of glass tore you from your anger, raising your head from the cradle you’d made with your hands to glance over to the mantlepiece. 

Your heart shattered along with the glass. 

“Shit…” you whispered, rounding the sofa and sinking to your knees on the rug, your fingers trembling as you debated trying to salvage the picture you’d broken in your outburst. It was one you hadn’t taken that long ago, and you only surprised him with it last week. He’d rolled his eyes at your beaming grin, remembering distinctly the moment you’d wrapped the scarf around his neck and snapped a quick picture before he could do so much as protest. And oh did he protest, the moment you took the picture you had to run back inside and hide beneath the bed. Even then he dragged you out. 

You loved that picture.

And now you’d broken it. 

You ignored the sharp sting of pain as you picked up the shattered glass, blood leaking onto the warm rug, crimson fingerprints staining the frame. You exhaled a shaky breath, sniffing back the tears lining your eyes as you fought to fix the pieces back together, almost frantically jamming the sharp edges against one another. 

By the time you gave up with an angry shout, your hands were covered in blood, and there was a stain in the carpet you knew would likely never wash out. You could theoretically just dissolve your hand in shadow and heal up, but you savoured the sting on your fingertips, the welling of blood on your palms. As twisted as it was, it not only reminded you that you were alive, but it kept you grounded, kept you from getting caught up in the tidal wave of grief and rage and guilt. You didn’t mean to say all those things to him, you just wanted him to listen and he wasn’t hearing you. 

You watched as a trail of scarlet dripped from a cut from your fingertip down to the centre of your palm, pooling around the stains, merging with other little brooks of sanguine. Closing your hand, you winced slightly as the slices barked in pain, blood oozing from your clenched fist before you stood from the ground, grabbed your coat, and slammed the door behind you in an extremely similar fashion. 

He didn’t even know where he was going. Didn’t even know where he needed to go. He just knew he needed to get out. Did you really think he was here just because Charles asked him to be here? Did you not understand just how unbelievably dangerous it was for you to venture off on your own? He knew you valued freedom, but did you value freedom over your own life? Over his grief? Did you not understand how completely and utterly broken he would be if he lost you? It was too much of a risk. How couldn’t you understand that?

And how could he be so fucking stupid as to think you’d just let him keep you hidden away? How could he let himself get comfortable with the fact you’d never want to leave the house? How had he almost called you the one thing you were so terrified of being? Christ he was such a fucking idiot sometimes. That flash of hurt played over and over in his head. The way your features shifted from fury to pain so damn quickly, before it was back to fury. He’d cut you. Deeply. Deeper than even his claws could cut you. He should turn around. Try and explain without raising his voice why he had to keep you safe. Why he was begging you not to drive off on your own. But it was so damn difficult when you kept arguing with him constantly and not letting him finish his goddamn sentences. 

He should turn around. 

And it was with a harsh smack of the steering wheel and a savagely muttered curse that he did, flipping the indicator and pulling into a layby, swinging the truck around and tracing the road he’d just taken, only the opposite way, back to the cabin. Back to you. How could he be so damn stubborn? How could you be so damn stubborn? Fuck, he loved everything about you, from your hotheaded rants about mildly irritating things to your little head tilts when you’re reading a particularly good book but Christ alive were you stubborn.

And he loved that about you too. 

And this was what he was focussing on when he pulled back into the drive, the gravel crunching beneath the wheels. The lights were still on, which, under normal circumstances, would mean you were still awake. But something didn’t sit right. The door to the cabin was left slightly ajar, and he could have sworn it clicked shut earlier when he slammed it. Maybe he’d slammed it a little too hard and it had bounced back open? But surely you would have closed it. You were always complaining about it being too cold in the north. He was certain you could have closed it. 

His heart started to beat a little faster, and he begged his mind not to get ahead of itself. He needed to keep steady if he was walking back into the swirling storm of your justified rage. But as he stepped out of the car, not even the calming breeze could soothe his pulse. The cabin was far too quiet. He half expected you to be anger-cooking, something you were known to do once or twice. But nothing. And not the relieving kind of nothing. The incredibly concerning kind of nothing. 

The copper scent of blood hit him like a ton of bricks. The interior reeked of it. Fresh as well. Freshly spilt blood. In his cabin. In his cabin he shared with you. In his cabin he’d left you in. Now panic started to well in his chest, gripping his heart in a clawed fist. Pushing open the door, he called out your name. He couldn’t smell you over the scent of freshly minted coins, but he couldn’t hear you either. Not your breathing, not your heartbeat, not even your angrily pacing footsteps. You weren’t here. 

Fuck. 

You weren’t here.

Logan raced up the stairs, still calling your name. He had to be sure. He had to be certain you weren’t here before he let himself go crazy. Before he let himself completely lose composure. And just as he suspected, nothing had changed since that morning. The bed still wasn’t made, the lamp was still knocked over from your morning tryst, and you still weren’t there. He took a breath, willing himself to think rationally before he completely lost his shit and tore down the whole forest looking for you. Racing back down the stairs, he quickly scanned the living space for any kind of clues, before his eyes fell to the rug. And the shattered glass surrounding your treasured picture frame. 

A crack of guilt splintered his heart as he crossed the room, bending to one knee and gingerly picking the picture from the scattering of sharp shards, removing the paper from the frame altogether. His thumb wiped clean your scarlet fingerprint from your beaming smile, forever captured. He wished he could go back to that moment and ask you to take it again. Take another where he didn’t look so mildly irritated to be in it. But you adored it. Said it captured the two of you perfectly. 

A large part of him couldn’t disagree.

Logan spun around as the door flew open, heavy boots trudging through the doorway. And he knew things were extremely wrong when you didn’t pause to remove them, instead tracking mud and leaves through the kitchen. You hated it when he did that. When he didn’t remove his shoes before entry. He would always receive a sharp look of disapproval and a deep huff before you’d all but push him back to the doormat. It used to be a game, where you’d stand and wait to see how long it would take for him to roll his eyes and cave. It never took long. 

He inhaled deeply, carefully setting the photograph back on the mantlepiece as you wordlessly strode past him. “Look, I–”

“Don’t.” You cut him off instantly, not even bothering to cast a glance his way as you trudged up the stairs, pine needles and soil dusting each step with the force of your stomping. And all he could do was close his eyes against his slight wince when the door to the bathroom slammed shut, the sound of the shower humming from inside accompanying his guilt. After everything you’d been through, he went and called you the one thing you were so afraid of being. 

How fucking insensitive could he be?

It felt empty. The room felt empty. The bed felt empty. Your heart felt empty. This wasn’t right. As much as you wanted it to be right now, and holy shit did you want this to feel right, it simply didn’t. You tossed and turned, having far too much space than you were used to having. You could spread your legs without obstruction, starfish to your heart’s content. Except your heart wasn’t content. Your heart was anything but content. 

With a heavy, defeated sigh, you rolled onto your back, looking at the space beside you, the permanent dip in the mattress that you both knew would never fade now. Your chest felt hollow, a pit of longing opening up in your gut. But you couldn’t give in. You were mad at him. And he was mad at you. You were mad at each other. You wished he would hear you, just listen for one damn sentence before he immediately got lost in a tirade of his own and drowned you out. It was infuriating. It was irritating.

But it was Logan. 

And it was that thought that had you throwing the duvet off your legs with an exaggerated huff, as if gaslighting yourself to be annoyed about the situation. Bare feet touched the cold, wooden floorboards as you crossed the upstairs bedroom and over to the stairs, dragging the woollen blanket with you. It was larger than the one on the sofa, and you knew that one would barely be long enough to cover his legs, let alone his entire body. 

The boards creaked beneath your footsteps as you padded down, ignoring Logan as he immediately sat up from his admittedly uncomfortable-looking position on the sofa. You knew he was awake. Just like he knew you were awake. This wasn’t your first fight, not by a long shot, but it was the first fight you’d had as a couple, and honestly you didn’t much care for it. Neither did he. 

Wordlessly, you crossed the living room, savouring the warm rug beneath your toes, a nice contrast between the cool floorboards. And there was no argument the two of you could ever have that would stop Logan from opening his arms for you, the comically small blanket falling from his body. There was no way he was about to admit it out loud, especially being in the throes of a heated argument, but he missed you. Fuck, he didn’t hold you for one night, less than, and his entire body burned to be near you. To pull you into his chest and murmur just how sorry he was. 

But neither of you said anything as you clambered onto the sofa next to him, lying with your back against his chest, his arm caging you against him as you settled the blanket over the two of you, fluffing up the cushion by his head before laying down. It was precarious, and you knew you could return to the bed if you both wanted to, but there was something too soothing about this to even consider that option. 

“I’m still mad at you.” You muttered as he buried his nose in the back of your head, inhaling the smell of your shampoo. 

“I know,” he responded, voice thick with exhaustion. 

You nodded firmly in affirmation before regret gnawed at your insides. 

“But I still love you.” The soft admission wove its way into his heart, and he couldn’t help the slight smile pulling at his lips, pressing a soft kiss to the back of your head. 

“I know.”

Your eyes glowed with the reflection of the dying embers. No matter the season, it always seemed to be fucking freezing here, and you were eternally grateful for the constantly burning hearth Logan kept up for the both of you. Sparks popped from the charred wood, rising up the chimney and into the night above, and you watched them go, too much on your mind for sleep to find you a reasonable candidate. 

“I don’t want to be a prisoner of my past.” You whispered, trying in vain to stop the harsh sting of tears from falling down your cheeks. You knew he could smell the salt, and you didn’t want to give the wrong impression. You didn’t want him to think you were too vulnerable, or too weak, to leave the damn house.

But you could tell it was futile when his arms wrapped around you tighter, holding you with the solid surety you’d craved since you’d first started fighting, and you both hated and adored the comfort that settled in your chest. He’d still be here. He’d always be here. You knew you were grasping at straws when you said he was only here as a favour for Charles, and everything he’d done for you, was still doing for you, screamed otherwise. Logan wasn’t a liar by nature. When he said he loved you, he meant it. 

Logan screwed his eyes shut, opening his heart and allowing himself to hurt the way you were. He knew this was his doing, but he just didn’t know how to explain it to you. “I don’t know how to keep you safe…” he uttered, feeling your body tense a little with the admission, before you were shifting in his arms, twisting awkwardly until you were facing him, nose to nose, on the tiny sofa barely big enough for him alone. You stayed silent, letting him take his time in finding the right words. You knew it was a lot for him to say that, to admit he didn’t know what he was doing. You wouldn’t press. You wouldn’t push. You were content to wait for him. 

And the depth of his gratitude could never be spoken aloud, for the failure of those very same words he was trying to find. “Kreva found you in the last place he’d ever think to look. He said so himself. I can’t– I can’t run that risk. I can’t let him find you again. Because if I lose you– Firefly, if I lose you–”

“I know,” you did. Truly, you did. Because if you lost him. If Kreva found you, and you lost him, you knew it wasn’t something you’d ever recover from. Pressing your forehead against his, your hand slowly found its way to the side of his jaw, your nails scratching ever so lightly through his beard. “I’m sorry. I– I know you’re not here just because Charles asked you to be. I was angry and upset and honestly? Kinda just looking for something to justify it,” you apologised quietly, and he breathed a soft smile against your chin. “And you were right. I was behaving like–”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he interjected, pulling back from you slightly. “I was an asshole. I have read some of the file, an’ there was nothin’ to even suggest that. There were plenty of monsters I read about, but you weren’t one’ve ‘em, alright?” He implored, his eyes slightly reflective in the low light. You nodded faintly, a hefty weight lifting from your shoulders and chest, your breath looser in your lungs as you drew in an easy breath despite the cramped space.

“Okay…” 

Logan pressed a delicate kiss to the side of your mouth, sighing as you reciprocated, shifting so you could capture his lips wholly. 

“I love you.” You whispered, a secret shared for only the two of you in the bubble of security you’d created for yourselves.

“I know.” He repeated, and your brows furrowed, your lips pulling in a disobedient, reluctant smile. 

“Say it back, asshole.” You couldn’t help but laugh as his mouth split into a grin, a hearty chuckle rumbling from the depths of his chest as you slapped his bicep lightly.

“I love you too, Firefly.” He hummed, tucking you cosily beneath his chin and holding you tight, both for emotional and practical reasons. He really didn’t want you to fall off the sofa and ruin the moment. 

As hilarious as that would be.

Logan let the silence settle for a minute whilst his mind started to wander. Neither of you had really come up with a solution to the issue, and whilst yes, it was nice to be speaking to you again and holding you again, he was worried that this was only temporary until the problem reared it’s ugly head a few weeks down the line. That was when it struck him. Christ he really could be fucking stupid sometimes. This was such an obvious answer and you’d both just had a ridiculously heated argument over it. 

“Come with me. Tomorrow, when I head to Mrs Whitethorn’s. Come with me.”

Your head shot up from the crook of his neck, and even in the darkness, he could see how they danced with disbelieving hope. “You’re serious?”

“I’m serious. I’m no good at talkin’ to these people. I just show up, do the job and leave. Reckon she’d want some friendly company for once.” He shrugged, trying to play off just how much your excitement was rubbing off on him. In truth, he wanted you to meet the people he did odd jobs for. He wanted people to see the woman who’d stolen his heart. His soul. And to be callous about it, he wanted to show you off a little. Especially to Todd. 

“Even if she’s a secret spy for an underground mutant experimentation project?” You provoked lightly, raising a crooked brow.

“I think I’ll take that chance.” He murmured, loosening his grip so you could get comfortable again before he secured you flush against his chest. This was what he’d craved since the beginning. Since setting eyes on you that first time when welcoming you home. He just wanted you safe. Preferably with him. Actually, that was also a requirement. But he never wanted you to feel like a prisoner of your past.

Not now. Not ever. 

[mytearsbuckochet]

What's your most hated Bummy scene?? I'll tell you mine. It has to be the kiss in the hospital lobby and buck getting outed because of his soot covered mouth. Never hated a 911 episode more than that. I love Buck. They just made a mockery out of him by that scene.

Where do I even start.. Couldn't agree more about the soot scene, although I'm more angry at the writers about that one than I am at Tommy, given how important it was to Buck that he came out to Eddie and Maddie on his own terms and how much weight he gave those interactions I feel like even though that one was supposed to be a cute little "hehe look this is very Buck coded", it fell short in that I would've liked everyone else at the 118 to find out in a more heartfelt way ya know??

In terms of my least favourite(s), the whole arc with billy boils was a very interesting play by the writers in that it highlighted the differences between Eddie and Tommy in a meaningful way. On one hand, Eddie, who has presumably been with Buck in the hospital the whole time he was being treated for his boils, is used to Buck's hyperfixations and Wiki deep dives, and finds them wholesome and cute. I reblogged a post a little bit ago where Buck told Maddie about how her and Chim always finish each others sentences and that theyre basically already dating, and then contrasted with how Eddie was finishing Buck's sentences in that scene. Buddie fanatic aside (I will admit im obsessed with these two idiots), THIS is the kind of domesticity I've always wanted for Buck's partners, where they acknowledge and love those little moments that he has.

Now lets go ahead and look at Tommy's side of this whole thing: Tommy's reaction to seeing the boils + how he treated and viewed Buck's obsession as exactly that, an obsession + the graveyard scene??? You can break it down into "oh well Buddie have known eachother since s2, Bummy have been together 6 months", but from my perspective the fact that Buck didn't even realise Tommy didn't like women until their 6 month anniversary (???) just goes to show that they don't really know that much about one another. Tommy was completely right in the breakup scene; he was definitely not Buck's last, and the poor guy is definitely in need of some self exploration (#letbuckfuck) before I'd be happy to see Buddie honestly (and thats not even considering the work that needs to be done on Eddie, my guy is going through it rn with Chris). Anyway; I just read this amazing fic by playinginthundestorms (on ao3) and I think the way they described Tommy (slightly Tommy bashing), was overall how I imagine he sees Buck. It never really felt like Tommy was fond of these little things Buck does in the way that Eddie (and the rest of the 118) are, more seeing him as childish or juvenile as the fic described. And it makes sense, tommy is older than Buck. A whole other can of worms and probably the icing on the cake for me was the Abby debacle, the misogyny really showed??? like man you have not changed since Hen my lord. Calling Abby out for running off with some "himbo half her age" was wild considering thats what he is currently doing with Buck? Especially with all the shit she had to go through with her mum at the time? Like what on earth is your excuse Temu? Anyway, to cut a long rant short, I actually have given you like 50 reasons, but i definitely think that Tommy was a well placed plot device and it was obvious from the start. Also, ABC could've chosen ANYONE to be Buck's first experience with a man and they were like yep lets use the racist homophobe from Chim and Hen begins cos why not?! I probably would've had a far less negative opinion of him if he was a fresh character, and I think that's on purpose, I think it would be really interesting if they go down the road of hen and chim sharing their experiences with Tommy now that they've broken up, and that they didn't say anything cos they just wanted Buck to be happy. Definitely after that heartfelt scene with Hen especially, that I didn't get cos of that bloody soot scene.

[mrcarmenile]

remember that one scene in she-ra season 5 when glimmer and catra are talking to each other in glimmer’s cell and it seems like glimmer might be getting through to catra but catra recoils, storms off, and yells “you don’t know me, you don’t know anything about me”

we need to talk abt that scene more because it is genuinely one of my favorites

glimmer and catra were obviously parallels in season 4 (that’s a whole other rant so i’m not getting into that rn) and, even though they are very different people, they sort of have this natural understanding of each other that is especially highlighted in the beginning of season 5

glimmer doesn’t know anything about catra, but also, she does. it shows - catra knows it as well, which is why she snaps. we see a weird, kind-of friendship forming between them in these episodes, and that relationship is built off of understanding. they are both in the same boat, like how glimmer literally says in i-forget-which-episode. this dynamic is so key to the story and their characters, and this scene especially highlights it. enemies who see somewhat of a reflection in themself in the other. reluctant friendship and understanding.

this is probably a pretty surface level observation but i just fucking love catra and glimmer’s dynamic and narrative parallels that i can’t not talk about it (plus they’re my two favorite she-ra characters)

[legomonkiefics]

Hello! I hope you’re doing good! I’m not sure if this has been done yet, but I got an idea for a fluff (possibly a pinch of angst?) scenario!:

Any, all or two of the traffic light trio sillies (Mei, Red Son, MK), with an s/o GN!reader that’s an experienced healer who takes care of them after a tough battle against a monster of your choosing. Maybe they have a heartfelt conversation afterwards, or during the process of patching them up, about getting themselves in danger for the sake of saving the world? 👀

Been thinking a lot about this since s5 lmao. Haven’t fully recovered yet 💀

🍜💛 Healing a Trio —🐉💚 Traffic Light Trio x GN Healer!Reader HCs 🔥❤️

Genres: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁⋆˚｡⋆୨🍜🐉🔥୧⋆˚｡⋆✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ . ݁˖

- It had been a fight with a huge hawk demon, one that MK was pretty confident he could take, especially cause Mei could use her bike to move closer to the threat. Red Son was roped in by circumstance, begrudgingly working with the heroes to defeat the threat. The attack was a surprise, so there wasn't much the Trio was prepared to do. Once it finally ended, they were sufficiently scratched, scuffed, battered, and bruised

- The three had come to you a little hesitantly. They didn't like feeling like they were bothering you, especially because these always ended in some deep conversations about the nature of self-sacrafice and priorities. When you'd opened your door to the three and allowed them in without many questions, they filed in, MK and Mei attempting lighthearted jokes right off the bat to diffuse tension

- MK, for as much as he gets hurt, sucks at getting patched up. He hisses and writhes if the topical medicine stings, yelping and whining at the unpleasant sensations. He's a very dramatic patient, but a very talkative one as well

- He tells you about the fight, reassuring you that he already remembers the conversations you'd both had before about these things. He's not exactly happy having to sit still while getting bandaids and bandages applied, but he's obviously still proud of his victory

- He's more quiet when you're closer, focusing on the feeling of your hands on his skin, the gentle and reliable touch providing a sense of safety and warmth. He feels his heart swell seeing the determined expression you have while working, and little flutters when you occasionally banter back. This routine between you was familiar, it was comforting. He felt safe under your care

- Mei, meanwhile, is also a pretty passionate speaker, but much less of a whiner than MK. Her problems are mostly just squirming from being hyperactive and wound up on adrenaline, frequently trying to hop off of your workbench to demonstrate a move

- Your gentle chastising with Mei is unique, specifically taking time to address how she feels being on the sideline of missions these days, and having to hold things together for MK most of the time. She feels like she can have that full honesty with you, your complete confidentiality and understanding helping to hold her together

- She flirts with you more openly than the other two. Any time you're close enough, she points out something about your face to compliment. She offers to help you do small things, asking questions about your job and what kinda stuff you see outside of the Monkey Crew

- Red Son, like the others, is a talker. His ramblings are closer to ranting and raving, and outside of waving his arms or doing grand dramatic gestures, he's more still than the other two

- Conversations about his family are what come up most often, when he isn't bragging about his villainy or latest attacks on the town. More recently he's been talking a lot about working as a food vendor. It's nice to see him happy about something that doesn't come from malicious intent

- He allows himself to show past his anger and be more vulnerable with you. He's a hint softer, a little more willing to be honest and open with you. He loves your willingness to do this for them, and he tells you frequently how much he admires you and your work

- The three usually stick around for a few hours after each appointment, talking with you and telling you about everything you my have missed in their lives. They treasure their individual time with you, and Mei and MK especially try to hype you up all the time to show their thanks

- They invite you out every once in a while to have some hangouts without medicine or injury in the picture. They introduce you as a vital member of the team to others and get protective of you during battles

[jeckilon]

long ass rant about that one show and fandom experience and some other stuff feel free to read or skip or whatever

everyone that follows me here probably already knows my feelings about andor since I don’t even hide it lol but let me tell you that I wasn’t always a hater bitch

I literally had a news account on twitter (that it’s still there btw but it’s run by someone else since I quit), I was super excited for it that I read everything you can imagine about this show, I knew every new thing, every interview, anything. I woke up every week 4am to watch the new episodes and mind you I worked all day and studied at night. I literally ruined my sleep schedule for this so I guess I have the right to be a bitch if I want okay

so why such sudden change you ask. first of all I started doing therapy and finally realized that hypertixations like that are harmful as fuck and ruin your mental health. it was a good point to start and get away from it. it wasn’t easy at all lol if it was easy people would be suck on that stuff but it was making me sick and I’m glad I left that hole lol

second thing, the fandom experience after this show aired started to be SHIT in ways it waned before. I know star wars fans are definitely not know for being civil or decent people or whatever but our corner was safe. until it wasn’t. people started to get over here and try to dictate how we should feel or make fun of us for liking rogue one or shipping rebelcaptain and it really started to ruin things for me. don’t even let me get started on the fucking asks lol wtf was that. unfortunately I was not in a good mental state so I answered those and wanted to pick fights but don’t worry I now realize it’s stupid and we should let these people choke alone

and well, those two things combined kinda woke me up from this obsession and the result of seeing all this left a super sour taste in my mouth. that you can see from all my salty posts from my alt account lol I apologize for that also

after 2 years in, I just decided want to ignore all this the best I can and honestly pretend this show doesn’t exist if it’s possible. I love and respect everyone here that I consider a friend and I hope y’all have a blast with season 2 but I’ll do my best to pretend it’s not even there. maybe I’ll find other interests to keep me busy, maybe I’ll take a break from here or whatever but it’s not worth it

I’m really NOT looking forward for all the dumb takes and posts taking shit about rogue one and jyn and rebelcaptain shippers or whatever lol this is beyond pathetic please these people need to get a life. I know I’m guilty of finding these horrible shit and I apologize, I promise I’ll definitely not look for them anymore

I love rogue one with all my heart, rebelcaptain is literally the most important ship for me and I’m so grateful for everyone I met here but if I need to just leave for a while then I will

and if I’m allowing myself to be a massive bitch for the last time while we’re here… no I’m not doing this. whatever. it’s not worth it. jk im gonna say it these annoying people are super jealous about rebelcaptain because their “canon” ship is boring as fuck and will never have 10% of rebelcaptain’s relevancy lmaooo keep being pressed and irrelevant mwah