#charlie logan

[daisyfield98]

[deadpoolya]

if I had a nickel for every time marvel studios released a project about a fourth wall breaking superhero with their love interest appearing in yellow suit for the first time on screen and the final scene of that project is a family dinner where the love interest is wearing a gray plaid shirt i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird it happened twice.

[zanephillips]

The Perks of Being a Wallflower (2012)

[thornescratch]

There is so much going on here. Ovi and Miro's apparent extreme talent for Oreo rolling vs. every other Cap's lack of talent for Oreo rolling. Stromer's little flinch when it goes off the table, and his disappointment when it DOESN'T land in the ranch dip. Lappy HAPPILY eating the mustard Oreo. Chychrun's complete lack of comprehension for the game. These utter weirdos, I want them to be doing this shit all the time.

[howlett-variants]

Jackmans as troubled birds

[sleepykoi]

Jaiden is an actual queen

never in my life would i think i would see Schlatt, Moist Critikal, Bella Poarch, Quackity, Logan Paul and IShowSpeed in a Jaiden Animations video but here we are

[hauntingoldhouses]

I know your wife, and she wouldn't mind🍾

[loremaster]

i had referenced the infamous clonefucking buzzfeed poll on my desuhiko/makoto fusion... and then i couldn't not do the whole meme

agree? disagree? consider... some of these characters are Lying ;)

(charlie the peacekeeper belongs to @wackpedion)

[lovelyymeq]

[bumblebeebats]

It's all fun and games knitting/crocheting/etc while you binge TV until you realize that the Vibes of whatever you're watching will be inextricably woven into the item you're making for the rest of time. Exhibit A, I now have a cozy autumnal lap blanket that feels like Succession.

[milexa2000]

I would LOVEEEE to see a fanfic of 70s! Logan (or any type) with a reader with this type of personality

(Like imagine she’s like a new teacher for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and she arrives during some meeting with the X-men and logan can’t stop staring bc of how cute and dumb she is- ok lemme stop yapping💀)

[newwavesylviaplath]

bro hugh jackman is a KNOWN philanthropist 😭😭 idk if he had an affair but he isn't a bigot that's for sure

[marrziy]

TENHO FOME.

[thornescratch]

The Caps earnestly explaining what dogs they would be and what dogs their teammates would be.

[themushroomprince03]

I finally made a little mini X-Men group ref

(In their civilian, non-hero uniforms. Except Mystique she just always wears that. Also i do not yet have a gambit design i am a og xmen films kid i do not have enough hcs abt him yet. Except DND bard I just know Gambit is a DND bard)

[a-leg-without-fear]

Can you do a medium Peppermint latte with Matt murdock (or logan) with the prompt "All I feel is you,not the monster you made yourself believe."

I'll do both for ya! Two peppermint lattes, coming up!

His blood was up. That much you knew for sure. The way his fists trembled in their black gloves, the way his chest heaved under the black shirt stretched across his muscles, the way the splash of blood along his jaw accentuated the animalistic look in his dark eyes.

Matt had just gotten back from his nightly route around Hell's Kitchen. His black vigilante suit clung to him like a second skin. Wide, unseeing eyes focused somewhere on your chin.

You sat on the leather couched positioned in the middle of the living room. Shifting blues and purples shone from the wall-length windows and across the entire apartment. The light illuminated the Devil of Hell's Kitchen like a ghost in a haunted mirror.

"You alright?" you asked apprehensively. It was always hard to gauge what he'd need when he got like this. Whether it was a reassuring hug, rough sex, food. It differed every time.

He was silent as he descended the wooden stairs. Not even the creak of wood managed to cut through the tense silence between the two of you. You watched him with cautious curiosity.

"Anyone of interest get their teeth knocked out?" you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood. Matt kept his mouth closed, no witty remark slipping between his frowning lips, until his large boots met the apartment's wooden floor.

"I almost killed someone tonight."

The words hit you like a sack full of bricks. Unease settled under your skin and crawled through your system. You cleared your throat, trying to put on a calm face for him.

"Are you okay?" you asked again, pushing yourself up off the couch. Matt remained firmly planted where he stood at the bottom of the stairs. Mask clutched in a trembling fist, sweat beading down a furrowed brow, lower lip slightly quivering. You searched his pained expression, "Matt?"

"I started wailing on this guy. Hitting him over and over and over again," he began. The air around him was charged with static. Clouds rolled in over his head, shadows stretching along his haggard face, "He'd been abusing his son. Going in his room at night. I cornered him in an alley when he'd left to get beer."

"I don't need to know the rest," you said quietly. You took a few careful steps towards your devil. He showed no response.

"I need to say it," he breathed, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. Matt blinked up at the ceiling. The beginnings of tears pooled in the corners of his eyes, "I couldn't control myself. I was so fucking angry. Why should this guy get to walk away after what he's done?"

"Matt..." you'd finally reached him. Your palm rested on the fabric covering his chest. A tremor rolled through his body.

"I only stopped when his heartbeat slowed. When he was on the edge," Matt choked out. His body sagged under the weight of his guilt.

"You stopped. That's the important part," you whispered through the falling rain. Drops of anguish fell from the gathering rainclouds above his head.

"I could have killed him," he murmured, voice trembling. You trailed your hand up the front of his body, giving him plenty of time to react or push you away, before you cradled his jaw in your palm. He sighed at the contact.

"You didn't. You're not a killer," you said. His gloved hand looped around your wrist, fingers pressing into the spot where your pulse flowed strongest.

"How can you know that? How can you know that I won't snap?" he asked with a quiet groan. Tears steadily fell from his misty eyes. You wiped a drop away with the pad of your thumb.

"You're not a killer, D. You're not the monster you've made yourself believe you are," you responded, now cradling both sides of his face between your hands. He let the full weight of his head, of his guilt and sorrow, be supported by your palms.

You held him like that for a while. Holding him up when the weight of his conscience bared down on him like the world above Atlas. Occasional whispers of your affection broke up the uneasy silence. How you loved him, how you were proud of him, how you'd always be there for him.

Eventually, his arms snaked around your waist. Matt held you to his chest, burying his nose in your hair and reveling in the comfort only you could provide. You rubbed soothing circles into whatever skin you had access to.

It was hard work, loving the Devil. Providing him an opportunity of repentance within your embrace had become a frequent occurrence. Cradling him to your body, letting him absorb the comfort you effortlessly provided, and bringing him back to reality. It was hard, but you wouldn't have it any other way.

Logan's chest rattled with each shaky exhale. His eyes were wide, frantic. Darting around the room like a cornered, wild animal. The tips of his adamantium claws poked out from between his knuckles.

Pale moonlight shone through the window, bathing the room in a faint, silver glow. You could just barely hear the chirping of crickets and the droning of cicadas outside your room.

Another nightmare. Logan had experienced another nightmare. And from the look of his wired state, it was a bad one.

You sat on the opposite side of the bed from him. Your legs were hugged against your chest, chin resting on your kneecaps. The way you'd huddled up wasn't out of fear. You'd never be afraid of Logan. It was to keep your skin clear of any claws that may strike out in Logan's frenzy.

"You okay?" you asked quietly, soothingly. Trying to calm his frayed nerves and bring him back to the present.

Hazel eyes met your own. The slide of metal on skin filled the silence between you, his claws retracting back beneath his skin. Logan blew out a trembling breath.

"Yeah, I'm okay," he mumbled, ruffling his mussed hair with tense fingers. You released your knees from where they were cradled to your chest and crawled across the bed. The sheets caressed the backs of your thighs as you sat in front of Logan.

"Wanna talk about it?" you offered with a gentle hand on his shoulder. Muscles jumped beneath heated skin. His eyes fell closed at the calming weight of your palm. A large, strong hand laced its fingers with yours.

"I... I killed you," Logan breathed, the sound agonizingly strained. His eyebrows turned up at the edges. He took in another shaky breath, lower lip quivering slightly, as he continued, "I held you in my arms as you died. Blood fucking everywhere. Because of me."

"Hey," you soothed, using your free hand to run your fingers gently down the side of his face. He leaned into the touch.

"I'm going to hurt you, doll. Why do you stick with me, when we both know I'll hurt you?" he uttered through clenched teeth. His eyes screwed shut, hot tears glittering in the moonlight where they'd gathered in the corners.

You contemplated your next words carefully. Your fingers continued to stroke down Logan's face, tangling lightly in his beard, as you formulated your response. He seemed to appreciate the closeness the two of you had fallen into. His forehead rested on yours, almost on instinct.

"You're not an animal, Lo," you finally said. His breath hitched behind his lips. The hand held in his squeezed at his fingers as you said, "You have control of yourself. I know you'll never hurt me."

"How do you know?" he responded, voice laced with despair.

"All I feel is you, Lo. Not the monster you've made yourself believe."