#in mean but not meanest interpretation

[starlooove]

I’ve already said all my issues with ice queen Janet Drake and idc enough to go into it again HOWEVER I will say if u want an abusive parents interpretation the very closest thing u can get to canon with her is Timmy turners mom

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

I'm so so sooooo torn between seeing ghost as the really broken, low key rude and aggressive man who has seen way too much shit in his life and your version of a man who struggles so badly but its all internally.

Because on one side he sees violence blood death has probably killed children, mothers and civilians in general before not even by accident but bc he was told to but on the other hand... the way he talks to soap after only knowing him for such little time... he's not a bad person by choice but he just is a bad person by ever metric

Im going to rant a little about this but I appreciate you anon and this is not a call out to you just saying my thoughts

These characters are so complicated.

They’ve done bad shit, they’ve done some things that are reprehensible and make them bad people intentionally or not.

But in the games you never really see them as being these hostile, rude, or aggressive unless they are dealing with a life or death situation or unfortunately torturing someone because it’s their job.

I think people forget that these characters are human. Humans are complex, they can be bad and do bad for the “greater good”. They can be bad people and still treat others respectfully and still laugh, smile, act politely, especially if that person works within the military system (which is an entirely different topic).

To put these characters in one mold would be a disservice to them because yes I write Ghost as a man who internalizes his trauma and struggles but I also write him as a man who has killed others with no hesitation because he can be both.

He can be rude but he can also be polite. He can be aggressive but also calm, just like how people in real life can be.

It’s all about realizing that no one is just black and white, fictional characters included.

(I would suggest also playing/watching someone who has played RDR2/RDR1 because that series does a good job at talking about the good and evil within a person)

[fandomhopped]

first love/late spring

pairing: fwb!logan howlett x fem!reader; 2nd person pov

summary: logan and reader have been sleeping together for a while with an unspoken rule to keep it casual, but that goes to hell when logan catches feelings. however, reader is an independent boss bitch and hates men<3

warnings: heavy swearing, hella mentions of sexual situations, substance abuse, brief sexual content(nothing serious fr), creepy guy in a bar, blood, bar fight, mentions of sex trafficking and resulting trauma, daddy issues, fluff, angst asf, lowkey scott slander (i dont mean it i love him)

word count: 9.1k

a/n: reader has light manipulation abilities but theyre not mentioned that often lol, also reader takes a lotta shots at jean just cuz she pisses me off. side note: idk the true meaning of the song i used as the title, there are many different interpretations. i found the song after i had alr written the story and the lyrics resonated pls don’t jump down my throat if it doesn’t align <3

there’s not a millimeter of space between you and logan as he holds you against his body. you’re sleeping soundly, and he watches you breathe all night, not bothering to even think about sleep for himself. the sun came up three hours ago, he felt it on his back.

when you drink, you always wake up early the next morning. you two drank a lot together last night. and like every time you drink with logan, you ended up in his bed.

he tries to block the sun from your face with his body so it won’t wake you up. he knows when you finally do, this little illusion that you're his will all be over. everything you said last night won’t matter. you’ll go back to your room. he’ll stay in bed. you’ll both go back to acting like it never happened.

you always leave him swiftly. you always go downstairs and drink coffee from the same mug and act like nothing happened. without a stutter, it’s a routine.

since he moved into the mansion, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that the female teachers were attractive. and, of course, he was first drawn to jean. he won’t deny that he still harbored some feelings for her when you came to his room all those months ago, but she made it abundantly clear that she loves scott.

then one night, you slipped a bottle of whiskey into the mansion and invited him to join you in drinking it. you said some things that made him sit closer to you. that was just the beginning. he woke up the next morning to an empty bed but distinctly remembers you falling asleep next to him, so he assumed you woke up and left.

logan is a pro at acting like some things never happen, but he wasn’t expecting you to act the same. he dismissed it as a one-off, drunken night.

then it happened again… and again and again, and you continued to act like it never happened.

which, he was fine with. this wouldn’t be the first time he’s had a with-benefits situation, but there’s something different about you. you’re badass. you’re beautiful. he really respects you. you fit him perfectly.

and you’re mean. you don’t smile all that much, really only when you’re drinking is what logan soon found out. you’re not always outright mean to people, it’s usually deserved. you don’t take anybody’s shit. you’ll let people know when they’re in the wrong or they’re pissing you off. you’re sarcastic and rudely witty.

that was just another thing that attracted him to you. but, God, were you the meanest in the mornings, especially when you’re hungover.

unfortunately for logan, he has developed a small, tiny, itty bitty, barely-there crush on you. just catching a scent of your perfume has him rolling his eyes in the back of his head and white-knuckling whatever is directly in front of him.

the thoughts of you under him, on top of him, in front of him, on your knees for him plague his mind all. day. long. then last night, you had him rock solid from just a few drunken words.

“you’ve ruined all men for me,” you said as he kissed down your neck.

“hmm?” he hummed as his hands roamed your body under your shirt.

“nobody could ever fuck me like you do,” you told him, pulling at his hair roughly. he lets out a deep groan at the feeling.

he’s never picked up his pace of getting someone’s clothes off so quickly. he ripped your favorite pair of pj shorts in the process, mumbling that he’ll buy you a new pair.

with him deeply inside you, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other sending you over the edge with his mouth leaving marks all over your chest, you say breathily, “fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

the moment hasn’t left his mind since.

“i’m hot,” you mutter, pushing the sheets from your legs. “you’re hot.”

“oh, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his lips turned up.

“i’m about to have a heat stroke,” you return, squirming around and shoving his arms from around you.

he lets go of you and gives you some space, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. a deep sigh leaves him.

“i’m gonna throw up,” you tell him, groaning and curling up into the fetal position.

“are you serious? don’t puke in my bed,” he says, leaning up to look at you.

you roll your eyes. “no, i’m not serious,” you snap at him.

“‘you wanna take a shower?” he asks, his lip curling up at the thought of you ruining his sheets (and not in the way he usually prefers).

“i feel like shit right now, logan. i don’t want to fuck you in the shower,” you tell him roughly, sitting up and glaring over at him.

he watches you stand up out of his bed and put yout shirt on. “‘s not what i meant,” he grumbles, looking away from her. he throws the sheets off his body and grabs his jeans from the night before.

he runs his hands down his face and then looks up only to see the door closing behind you as you leave him. again.

“whew, late night?” ororo asks you as soon as you walk into the kitchen, changed into some presentable clothes rather than the ripped shorts and oversized tshirt you walked back to your room in.

you ignore the woman as you open the cabinet to grab your mug. the same one you use every morning.

but it’s not there.

“where’s my mug?” you ask, glancing around the kitchen to see it’s not just ororo but also jean and scott there.

“is this yours?” scott asks, holding up the mug in his hand.

your gaze darkens. “yes,” she grits out, tightening her jaw.

“that’s my bad. i didn’t know this was yours,” he says, standing up and walking over to the sink. “i’ll wash it and you can use it.”

you feel your skin crawl as he turns on the hot water. “stop,” you say lowly, walking to him and turning off the water. “you can’t—.” you stop yourself as you breathe heavily. you rip the cup from his hands.

“hey, it’s just a mug,” ororo says to you, “what’s up?”

“it’s not—,” you cut yourself off again and take a deep breath, shaking your head. you turn on the cold water from the sink and carefully wash the mug.

“seriously, what’s going on with you?” jean asks as scott rejoins her side.

you roll your neck. “i’ve been here for years, and you don’t know which one is my mug?” you ask scott, not looking anywhere but your mug until you’re sure it’s clean.

“i never noticed before, ‘sorry,” he says then turns to jean with a shrug.

the light beaming in through the window shines a little brighter as you continue to shake your head, muttering things under your breath that the others can’t make out.

“it really is just a mug,” ororo says carefully, looking over your figure in concern.

“except it’s not,” you retort, attentively drying off the ceramic with a towel. you then pour some coffee into the mug and hold it close to your chest, turning back to the other mutants.

“what—,” jean begins but logan walks into the kitchen just as she starts and she stops herself.

her surveys everyone’s demeanor then looks at you. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks, walking to the cabinet and grabbing whichever cup is closest to his hand when he reaches in. he pours himself some coffee and turns back to them expectantly.

“scott was using my mug,” you tell him, leaning against the counter.

“why?” he asks scott, eyeing the man.

“to drink coffee. why does it matter?” he asks in return, scoffing.

“it’s hers,” logan returns, his stare hardens and he looks at scott like he’s an idiot.

ororo laughs humorlessly. “what does that mean? it’s just a mug,” she asks, looking between you.

you glare at her. “it was my father’s and now it’s mine.”

“the same father that sold you?” jean asks, her face contorting. you shift your weight uncomfortably. “why would you want that?”

“why don’t you just back the fuck off, bitch?” you snap at her, stepping toward her.

“woah, girl, calm down,” ororo intervenes, holding her hand toward you like you’re a wild animal. you scoff. “we get it. it’s special to you. that’s all you had to say.”

you roll your eyes at them. you leave the group and return to your room. logan watches you go then turns back to the others with his eyebrows raised. “did you say sold her?” he asks jean.

“when he found out she was a mutant—,” she begins.

“jean,” ororo interrupts her, shaking her head at the girl.

jean continues, “—her father sold her into a mutant sex trafficking ring,” she reveals, looking only at logan, “that’s where we found her and then brought her here.”

his face contorts, and he looks down into his coffee. “shit,” he comments.

“she doesn’t talk about it to anybody, and, out of respect, we don’t talk about it either,” ororo says pointedly at the telepath.

logan is seething all day over the new information. he hates to think you went through that for God knows how long.

after the incident, logan doesn’t see you for a while. he doesn’t know how. you’re a teacher and you live down the hall from him, yet he still doesn’t even catch a whiff of your perfume.

“logan, meet me in my office,” he hears charles’ voice in his head. he obeys and within a minute, he’s standing before the professor. “you should leave her alone for a bit.”

her brow furrows. “come again?”

charles says your name and logan clenches his jaw. “she’s destructive right now. you should let her be.”

“is she okay?” the wolverine asks, concern growing in his stomach, and it makes him feel sick.

“she’ll be just fine. this happens from time to time,” he tells him, pressing his lips into a thin line. “you know of her circumstances.”

“her circumstances?” logan growls, scowling down at the old man, “you knew what she went through and didn’t think to tell me? you know what’s going on between us and didn’t think maybe i needed to know that? what if she had a breakdown when we were together? i wouldn’t have known what was happening.”

charles’ lips turn down into a small frown. “that’s not my information to tell.”

logan storms off in a huff, muttering under his breath.

that friday, he’s smoking a cigar in his bed, looking out the window at the moon, which is shining rather bright tonight. he hears a few quiet knocks on his door. he opens the door, expecting it to be a student.

“hey,” you say, waving a bottle of jack in his face before pushing past him into the room. “'hope you don’t mind, i got started without you.”

“you always do,” he comments, closing the door, putting out the cigar, and following you to sit on his bed. “listen —.”

“i think i like that vodka more than this. this one makes my mouth taste weird,” you tell him, taking another sip out of the bottle before handing it to him.

he holds it and sighs. “look, we should—.”

“—take our clothes off?” you finish his sentence, smiling darkly at him. “i mean, it’s a little early, but i agree.”

“that’s not what i—.”

“—was going to say?” you guess his words, cutting him off again. “look at us finishing each other’s…” you trail off, looking at him expectantly. he sends you a deadpanned glance. “this is the part where you say ‘sentences.’ i think i’m better at this game than you are.”

he takes a long sip from the bottle before he looks at you. “can you be serious for a second?” he asks.

you scoff and take the bottle from his hands. “i don’t come to you like this to be serious, logan,” you say, putting the whiskey to your lips again.

“why do you come to me at all?” he asks quietly and gruffly.

you take another sip and place the bottle on the floor, scooting closer to him. “because you’re hot,” you say in a sultry voice, putting a hand on his thigh and slowly dragging it up, “and you call me ‘princess’ and ‘darling’,” you continue, reaching for his belt buckle. he doesn’t do anything to stop you, “and your hands.” you push the buckle out the way and unbutton his pants, dragging down the zipper slowly. “and your tongue.” you reach your hand into his pants. “and this.”

he breathes heavily, completely lost in the euphoria that is you.

he forces himself to snap out of him and shakes his head. he pushes your hand away and stands up, taking a few steps away.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him, grabbing the bottle and standing also. “do you need some more?” you ask, holding the drink out for him, confusion written all over your face.

he holds his hands out in front of him as if to deny the offer. “it’s…,” he trails off, pushing a deep breath through his nose.

your shoulders drop along your face. you tilt your head in disbelief. “oh, my fuck. they told you,” you conclude. you turn around and sit back down on the bed. he stays silent, just looking at you. “okay, so what now? you don’t want me anymore ‘cause i’m used up?” you ask, slurring your words a little.

“no,” he denies without hesitation.

your sober personality is back even though you’re still drinking the whiskey like you’ve been in the dry desert for weeks without water.

“then what is it, logan? you don’t wanna do this ‘cause my hair isn’t blood red?” you ask next, raising your brow and looking at him expectantly.

his face contorts. “what’re you talking about?” he asks gruffly.

you chuckle at him. “i’m not a fucking idiot, old man. i know you want jean so bad, but she doesn’t want you so i'm second choice” you say, then you shrug with one shoulder. “i’d’a gone with ororo, to be honest. have you seen her? i’d show her a good time,” you add.

“that’s not what this is,” he tells you, taking a step forward but not within arm's length of you.

“then what is it? just fucking tell me,” you say loudly, the room lights up as the moon shines brighter. “d’you want me to tell you ‘bout how i was a good, little daddy’s girl until i almost blinded my brother when i first got my powers? how about how my dad gave me away like he didn’t love me? d’you want me to cry in your arms about how i was passed around by mean men like a blunt when i was 14? why do you think i can only let you fuck me when i’m drunk?” you ask him sarcastically, but your voice breaks on your last words. you let out an unsteady breath. logan watches you cautiously, unsure of what to do. “is that what you want, logan?! you wanna be the big, strong man here?!” you ask him, crying now as you yell at the man in front of you.

your body slumps forward as you let the tears drop from your eyes, and you grip the bottle in your hands like a lifeline. you feel the bed dip beside you and the bottle pulled from your hands. you move your hands to your face, trying to pull yourself together.

you feel his big arms envelope you and pull you into his chest. that’s when the waterworks really break out.

logan’s never been to best with tears. he hasn’t had to deal with them too much, but his first instinct was to hold you as close as you would let him. he hates to see you like this. in all honesty, he wants to hunt down every man that ever put a finger on you and rip them to shreds. but, for now, he’ll hold you. as long as you would let him.

you wake up with araging headache. you’re hot, burning up, actually. you kick the blankets from your legs and turn over in the arms of the incredibly attractive man in bed next to you. you look at his sleeping face and sigh.

this is the part where you leave, but this time, you just snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep.

logan wakes up later than he usually does after nights like the last one. it’s normally the sound of the door closing wakes him up. but, this time, he sees your cute face smushed against his pec. he doesn’t fight the smile on his face.

you stir quickly after he wakes up. you rub your eyes and look around the room, then to logan. “i’m gonna puke,” you tell him, the remnants of the smile fall from his face. you pull away from him as your face blanches. “seriously,” you add and sit up quickly.

he reaches for the trash can beside his bed and holds it in front of you just in time. he holds your hair back with a look of absolute disgust while you clutch the bin close to your face and your body jerks with each gag.

once you're done, you wipe your mouth with the bottom of your shirt. you groan loudly and stand up from the bed. “i’m gonna take this with me,” you tell him, holding the can in your arms and moving toward the door.

“keep it,” he remarks, his lip curled up.

monday morning rolls around quicker than anybody wants. you walk into the kitchen and grab your mug, pouring coffee and looking around at others in the kitchen.

they’re talking amongst themselves, mentions of grading papers and some stupid answer a kid put as their answer on an assignment.

you just listen and sip your coffee peacefully. that is, until logan walks in. you move from in front of the coffee pot for him to get some. he nods in thanks as he joins your side.

“this coffee is awful,” you comment, pouring it out in the sink next to you. he chuckles at your comment but doesn’t say anything. “scott, did you make the coffee this morning?” you ask him. the three look over to you, almost as if they didn’t see you come in.

“yeah,” he answers.

“don’t do it again,” you tell him, filling the mug with water and leaving the kitchen.

as you watch a group of students take a test, you see logan walk back in his jacket he usually only wears when leaving campus.

“hey,” you call out. all the students look up at you. “keep taking your tests. i’m going to the hallway for a second,” you tell them and move into the hallway. “logan,” you call and he turns around, walking back toward you. “where are you going?”

“to pick up some more cigars,” he answers, gesturing over his shoulder.

“will you pick me up a pack of cigarettes?” you ask him, reaching into your pocket for some money.

his brow furrows. “you smoke?” he asks.

“sometimes, yeah,” you reply, handing him $20.

he shakes his head. “i’ll cover it,” he answers.

“thanks,” you reply, placing a hand on his forearm before returning to your classroom.

he looks down to his arm and blinks. that’s new.

“brad, i know you’re not talking during a test. are you begging for a failing grade?” he hears you say before he turns back toward the front door of the mansion.

logan returns a while later, after the school day is over and the students are training. he finds you in your classroom, grading papers.

“hey,” he greets. you look up at him.

“hey,” you return, eyes dancing all over his body.

“these are for you,” he says, holding out the page of cigarettes.

“right, thanks,” you say and reach for them, your fingers brushing his as you grab them.

“‘you need any help?” he asks, looking at the papers before you.

“do you know anything about math?” you ask him, pursing your lips.

“uh, no,” he answers, shaking his head. “don’t you have an answer key or something?”

“i have to check their work to make sure they didn’t just get the answer from the person beside them,” you reply, looking back down to the papers. “some of these kids are dumbasses.”

he chuckles. “no kid wants to do math,” he comments.

“how would you know? weren’t you born before there were schools?” you ask him without looking up. there’s a beat of silence before you eventually glance up at him. “was that insensitive?” you ask instead.

he just shrugs. “i’m not that old,” he says, sitting in the desk in front of yours.

“sure,” you respond and go back to grading.

the two of you sit in without a word as you grade, and he watches you in complete admiration. after a while, he stands up and walks toward the door.

“you’re leaving?” you question.

“‘didn’t think you wanted your room smelling like cigars,” he replies.

“i’ll join you,” you say, grabbing the pack he bought you and putting the tests in a drawer. he doesn’t object and you two walk outside, to a bench in the gardens, away from the students.

the two of you sit in silence as you inhale smoke and slowly release it from your lungs.

“i’ve never seen you smoke before,” he comments after a while.

“i only smoke when i give up drinking, i only drink when i give up smoking,” you answer, tossing the burnt cigarette onto the ground and stepping on it, then picking another one from the pack.

you pick up your lighter and flick it a few times but it won’t light. you put your head and lighter inside your shirt to block the wind, trying again and failing again.

“motherfucker,” you mutter as you try to cover the lighter.

“here,” he offers his lighter with the fire shining brightly above it. with the cigarette between your lips, lean toward the lighter, looking up into his eyes as you do. he meets your eyes and clears his throat, closing the flame into the top of the lighter and shifting his eyes to the cigar between his fingers. you let a small smile rest on your face afterward.

“so you’re not drinking anymore?” he asks you.

“figured i should go on a sobriety cleanse for a bit,” you reply, “‘t’s probably for the best.”

“probably,” he adds and silence takes over again.

he glances over at her for a second and he sees you bite at the skin of your bottom lip the way you always do when you’re thinking, contemplating. he’s tempted to ask what’s on your mind but before he can break the silence, you let out a hard sigh.

“i don’t apologize for things,” you begin and pause, biting at your lip again.

“okay…?”

“i don’t apologize for my actions or words because i stand by every decision i make,” you continue and pause again. he’s looking at you and you’re looking directly ahead of you. “i’m not good at apologizing,” you sigh again, “but i’m…sorry for some of the things i said the other night. there’s no excuse. i apologize. take that how you will.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he replies.

you huff. “so i just said all that for nothing? you could at least accept the damn apology,” she snaps at him then rubs the crease between her eyebrows out.

“you called me an old man. i don’t know if i want to accept your apology,” he teases with a crooked smile. you send him a look that turns into a hint of a smile before turning your head away.

“i need to get back to grading those tests. i’ll see you later, logan.” you stomp out another cigarette and stand up from the bench.

“see ya, sweetheart,” he says lowly but you still hear it.

as you look over tests, ororo enters your classroom. “ooh, what’s got you all smiley?” she asks as she strolls in.

the previous smile you didn’t even realize you were wearing falls when you look up at the mutant. “huh?”

“don’t try to deny it. i saw that smile,” she says teasingly. you just roll your eyes lightheartedly. ororo’s brow furrows as she sniffs the air. “are you smoking again?”

“yeah, i quit drinking,” you answer, “what’s up?”

“i was coming in here to ask you if you wanted to go out with the rest of us friday night. we’re planning on going that bar we always go to,” she says, “but if you’re not drinking, i don’t wanna make you go.”

“yeah, no. that’s okay,” you decline the offer.

“alright, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us. sober or not,” she adds before leaving out.

the week drags on painfully slow. it’s a week of tests and starting new units in all your classes and you really just want to bang your head against a wall and tell the kids class is canceled.

by the end of it, you actually do want to join your colleagues in going out to that bar in town that they love so much. you offer to be the designated driver, not trusting anyone but yourself to drive you anywhere.

“are you going with us to the bar?” you ask logan as he rummages around the cabinets for something to eat.

“no,” he answers, opening the fridge, “are you?”

“yeah, i’m driving,” you tell him. there’s a beat of silence before you add, “you should come.”

he turns toward you at your words with a crooked smile. “oh yeah?” he questions, “why? ‘you want me there?”

you scoff with no heat behind it. “i was just trying to be nice,” you say.

“you? nice?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“what? you don’t think i’m nice?” you ask him defensively, crossing your arms.

“no,” he replies, not skipping a beat.

“i’m very nice,” you counter.

“no, you’re not,” he denies again, also crossing his arms.

in his white beater, crossing his arms makes his arms flex and you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the veins of his biceps.

“you have nice hair. there, nice,” you compliment, then add right after, “you’re not balding or anything, which is quite common for men your age.”

“you’re not good at this,” he tells you, looking at your plate to see what you're eating.

“do you want some?” you ask him. you hold your plate across the counter for him to pick off of. he grabs one of your chips and eats it.

“thanks,” he mutters.

“look at me being nice,” you comment and he chuckles deeply.

“shut up,” he returns playfully.

the five of you go to the bar that night, logan joining at your request. he sits at the bar, ordering drink after drink and scanning the bar every so often to make sure you’re alright.

you spend most of your time at ororo’s side. before long, you’re accompanied by a couple of men. you and ororo share side-eyes as they continue to tell stupid jokes. ororo excuses the both of you to go to the bathroom only to move next to logan at the bar.

“having fun?” he asks sarcastically, looking at you then glancing to ororo.

“they could’ve at least been funny, but they weren’t. there terribly unfunny,” you tell him, sitting next to him on a barstool and ororo laughs.

“yeah, that was awful,” she comments and sips her drink. “oh, i see jean and scott. i’ll be back later.” she leaves the two of you. you order a club soda and turn to logan, who is hunched over his drink.

“you have really bad posture,” you tell him as the bartender hands you your drink. he just shrugs and refills his glass with the bottle the bartender left in front of him. you dig your finger into his spine and he straightens up, looking at you wildly.

“why?” is all he asks.

“it’ll help you look more presentable. you’re not looking for anybody tonight?” you ask and glance around the bar for women.

“no, i’m not,” he answers and slumps back down. you dig your finger into his back again and he looks down at you. “stop,” he says seriously.

“oh, what’re you gonna do? stab me?” she asks him challengingly. he looks back down to his drink and shakes his head dismissively. “oh, come on. you’re good-looking, you’re good in bed, you’ve got this hot, animalistic thing going on. why not look for somebody?”

“‘cause i don’t want anybody,” he answers. “did you say i’m good in bed?”

“well, yeah,” you confirm with a one-shouldered shrug.

he stares at you for a beat. this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned it before. you don’t talk about the things you two have done. ever.

“i would know,” you add after he stays quiet.

“you would know what?” ororo asks as she rejoins you, along with scott and jean. they all stand directly behind the man, looking at you expectantly. logan’s waiting for you to make up a lie.

“that logan’s good in bed,” you answer, gesturing to the man next to you. his eyebrows raise and he looks directly in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips as he drinks down all of what’s left in his glass and refills it again. you surprise him more and more every day.

“he’s what?” ororo questions, shock written all over her.

you roll your eyes. “you don’t have to do the clueless bit. jean reads minds and i know she’s told you two,” you state, pointing between ororo and scott.

“what? i haven’t—i didn’t—,” jean stutters over her words, laughing through them.

“liar,” you clock it in a high-pitched tone, sipping your drink. “i’ve heard you talk about it before. i’m just surprised you haven’t mentioned it yet.”

the three of them exchange glances. “okay, yeah, we knew. we thought you would deny it anyway so we didn’t bring it up,” ororo admits.

logan stays silent, drinking like he’s been thirsting for days. why are you doing this? “so…you two are…,” scott trails off. you shrug as your answer. “hmm.”

“hey, sweetheart, you never came back,” the guy from early comes up behind you and wraps an around your shoulders. you tense up at the feeling.

you remove his hand from you. “don’t touch me, and don’t call me sweetheart,” you tell him. he laughs and looks at your colleagues.

“why not? looks like everybody’s got a matchup here but you. let me help you fix that,” he says and runs the knuckles of his finger across your collarbone. he points at scott and jean, then logan and ororo. “i can make you feel good,” he whispers in your ear.

“seriously, don’t touch me,” you tell him firmly, pushing his hand off your shoulder and shifting your seat away from him.

logan doesn’t watch the encounter but he’s squeezing the glass in his hand so hard it’s about to shatter. he feels the red-hot rage crawl up his neck as he does every time he encounters some asshole in a bar.

“don’t be like that, sweetheart,” the man continues and reaches for the strap over your shoulder. chills cover your arms and legs and a shiver runs down your spine. you grab his hand roughly and shove it away from you.

“touch me again and i’m gonna break your fucking nose,” you tell him.

“ooh, i got a feisty one,” he comments to the rest of your group, laughing. “i like that.”

scott takes a step forward. “you need to lay off, man,” he tells him, trying to keep this civil and contained.

the man only laughs harder. “what are you gonna do, glasses?” he asks him and slings his arm over your shoulders. “come on, baby, let’s get out of here. i got a real nice spot for you in my bed.”

“she already told you not to touch her, bub,” logan chimes in, still looking straight ahead and not sparing the boy a glance. there’s a tightness in his shoulders as he uses all his self control to stay in his seat.

“woah, tell your bodyguards to stand down,” he says to you but your only response is to rear back and deck him directly in the nose.

he stumbles back, holding his nose as blood drips into his hand. “you dumb bitch—,” he lunges toward you but logan whips around and grabs him by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against a wall.

“what’d you say?” the mutant asks him lowly, a growl deep in his throat.

“hey, take it outside!” the bartender yells at the man.

“why don’t we do that? you wanna take it outside?” logan asks the scared man in his grasp, shoving him harder into the wall.

“logan, let’s go,” ororo tells him as she walks with you toward the door. he doesn’t move. “logan!”

he drops his hold on the man and turns his back to him. he doesn’t even take a step before the dumbass says, “yeah, listen to your bitch.”

logan turns back around and absolutely socks him in the jaw. the man falls to the ground. logan walks after his friends, rolling his shoulders.

when logan gets out to the car, he sees you in the driver's seat, holding your hand closely to his body. he sits in the passenger seat and looks at you.

“are you okay?” he asks you carefully.

“did you kill him?” you ask him flatly without meeting his gaze, and he shakes his head. “you should’ve,” you say coldly and start the engine, driving out of the parking lot and back to the mansion as quickly as possible.

when you arrive, logan accompanies you to the lab for jean to look at your hand. he wasn’t going to say anything but watching you cradle your hand makes him change his mind. “are you alright?” he asks you.

“fine,” you reply sharply, clenching your jaw tightly. he watches you bite at your lip.

“speak your mind,” he tells you, just outside the hidden elevator. you just shake your head at him. “if you don’t, you’ll take it out on jean.”

“why can’t i just do that?” you ask lowly.

“‘cause she doesn’t deserve it,” he reasons.

you take a deep, frustrated breath. “what happened tonight was stupid,” you say, “dumb fucking men thinking they can get whatever they want whenever they want. now my hand might be broken because i couldn’t—,” you cut yourself off and take another deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m done talking about this,” you say and open the door to the hidden elevator.

he blocks your path. “no, you’re not,” he says and waits for you to continue. that’s when the dam really breaks and you last out at him.

“it’s stupid. all of this is fucking stupid. i could’ve handled myself back there. i didn’t need you to step up and be my big, strong savior,” you tell him angrily, voice rising.

“i know,” he returns.

you’re shouting now, “then why couldn’t you just let me do it? i could’ve stopped him. i’m stronger now. i know how to fight now. i don’t need anybody to save me. i can save myself. i don’t need you. i don’t need any of you.” your voice cracks as the anger starts to shift into the feelings you hate to feel. “i’m not gonna let anyone take advantage of me ever again. and i’ll break every bone in my body before i let some drunk narcissistic man ever put his hands on me again,” you say your peace and breathe heavily and unsteadily.

there’s a long pause, the weight of your words hanging between you. logan doesn’t interrupt, giving you the floor to get it all out.

“i know,” he repeats himself deeply, “but you shouldn't have to.”

you feel that familiar ache in the back of your throat as tears threaten to spill out. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, pushing all the emotions back down. “my hand really hurts,” you tell him quietly, not trusting your voice. he puts his hand gently on your back and leads you into the elevator then into the lab.

by the time you’re in front of jean, you’ve pulled yourself together and let her examine your hand. you did break your hand. she wraps it up for you and sends you to your room with some pain meds.

logan doesn’t leave your side until you’re at your bedroom door. “i don’t want you to come inside,” you tell him quietly. he stays silent. “it’s just that you’ve never seen my room before and this is mostly where i use my abilities and it’s messy right now and—.”

“‘t’s fine,” he interrupts your rambling. “i don’t have to come inside.”

“right,” you mumble, hand gripping the doorknob. “good night.”

“‘night.” he doesn’t make his way to his room until you slip into yours, locking the door behind you.

the next mid-morning, logan walks into the kitchen to see jean scolding you like a child. he’s surprised you’re just sitting there and taking it without a word.

“i’m serious,” jean says, finishing her tongue lashing.

“i know,” you mumble before jean offers logan a soft ‘good morning’ as she leaves.

“what was that about?” he asks you, moving over to the table where you sit with paper spread in front of you.

“i need to grade these papers but my hand is broken and dr grey told me it would only cause more damage,” you explain, sighing heavily and holding the pen in your healthy hand.

“let me help,” he says, snatching the pen from your fingers and the paper from in front of you. the numbers on the sheet are all greek to him. he doesn’t know what the hell he’s looking at.

“you can’t,” you tell him, pulling the paper from his hands. “you don’t know how to do it.”

“then tell me,” he offers, moving his chair next to yours. “tell me what’s wrong and i’ll write it down.”

you shake your head a few times before giving in. “fine,” you cave and look over the student’s work. you place the page in front of the man and point a certain part of a problem. “okay, so he should’ve foil’d here but he didn’t so the rest of the work is wrong. put a line through it and write ‘foil’,” you instruct him and he follows your orders.

“like that?” he asks, showing you. you nod in approval.

“your handwriting actually isn’t that bad. i was expecting a lot worse,” you comment, leaning into him as you look over the next problem. “that one’s right, so put a check,” you tell him and he follows.

the process continues on. every time there’s a gap of silence as you examine the math that he would never even try to understand, he watches you in complete admiration. there are practically hearts in his eyes while the gears turn in your brain.

as the next few days progress, you and logan spend more time together than you ever have. whether he’s in your classroom during your free period or you watch whatever movie’s on tv together on the couch, if someone’s looking for logan, you’re right beside him and vice versa.

of course, the others have taken notice of it. it’s new and after you confirmed you had been sleeping together, they draw their own conclusions about the two of you.

“‘y’know what i would like to see?” you prompt logan as you watch a show with a lumberjack in it.

“what’s that, darlin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“you chop wood,” you tell him, looking up at him from your spot under his arm.

“chop wood?” he questions.

“yeah, like, axe, wood, outside, shirtless, sweaty, and muscly, chopping wood,” you tell him, “lumberjack style.”

“lumberj—.”

“with the cigar,” you add excitedly, cutting him off. “maybe add in a little dehydration too.”

“i think you’re drooling a little bit,” he tells you, pointing at your mouth as a lazy smile rests on his face.

“probably, that’s hot,” you tell him, looking back at the screen.

as the credits roll, logan looks down to see you sound asleep with your head resting on his chest. he carefully picks you up in his arms and carries you to your room.

he opens the door and pauses his movements, eyes dancing across your room. there are no personal touches on the walls or shelves. it looks exactly like his did when he first got to the mansion. well, except for one obvious difference.

your room looks completely dilapidated, like an abandoned home that the sun and time have destroyed. the dark color of the wooden floors and furniture has faded, every surface dry and brittle. in some parts, mostly near the window, the wood is completely bleached of its color.

he lays you in your bed and covers you up, taking in the room once more before he leaves.

“why don’t you have another name like everyone else?” he asks as you sit next to him on the bench where you now regularly take your smoke breaks on.

“like a last name? i do have one,” you answer, flicking the butt of your cigarette onto the pavement.

“scott has cyclops, marie’s got rogue,” he elaborates, glancing over at you. you’re sitting right beside him, his arm thrown over the back of the bench in a way that your head rests on it.

“i don’t know. i guess i never understood why i have to change my name just because i’m a mutant. i am who i am, human or mutant,” you answer, messing with a loose thread on your pants. “plus, seeing the way you made fun of the others when you first got here for their names—i’d never even try to think of one now,” you tell him, making him chuckle. you smile proudly at making him laugh. “you looked so cute when you first got here.”

“are you saying i’m not cute anymore?” he asks in mock offense, looking at you sideways.

“i mean, when i first saw you, you had that big jacket on and you were so clueless. a little less muscle too,” you recount, poking his toned stomach to which he curls to the side. your jaw drops. “are you ticklish?” you ask him, a smile growing on your face.

“no,” he replies sharply and gruffly, straightening his posture.

“oh, my fuck. you so are ticklish,” you accuse and dig your fingers into his ribs, attempting to tickle him.

a deep laugh leaves him, and he grabs your hand in his, his facial expression dropping quickly. “stop,” he tells you in warning. you just laugh in his face, reaching toward him with your other hand, cigarette still between your fingers. he grabs your other hand before you touch him, cigar between his fingers. “no,” he denies you.

you look toward the mansion and see the sun reflecting off a window. you bend the light so it’s shining directly in his eyes, almost burning them. he shuts his eyes tightly and brings one of his hands up to his face. as quickly as you can, you reach back into his side.

he quickly stands up and looks down at you. “enough,” he says and points a finger in your face.

you stand up also, but you’re shorter than him so he’s still looking down at you. you decide to stand on the bench, now a little taller than he is. you don’t say anything, just look down on him with a straight face.

logan can’t help the smile that breaks his scowl. “you’re an idiot,” he tells you, raising his eyebrows at you.

you mimic his gesture then flick the cigarette butt onto the ground. “you are cute, wolvie,” you say and ruffle his hair. “i get the whole towering over people know. this is a power trip for sure,” you comment.

“oh, really?” he questions and puts the cigar between his lips. he grabs you around your waist and throws you over his shoulder like you’re as light as a feather.

you let out a surprised squeal as he walks away from your bench with you in his hold. “put me down. bad boy, bad dog,” you chastise him hitting his lower back. he doesn’t listen so you just hang over his shoulder as he drags you into the mansion.

you grab his ass abruptly and he stops in his tracks. he places you on the floor and tilts his head as he looks into your eyes, taking the cigar from his mouth. “‘bad dog’?”

“yeah, wolverine,” you say, gesturing to him.

“a wolverine’s not a dog,” he tells you, smiling down at you.

your brow furrows. “yeah, it’s like a small wolf, right?” you wonder and feel like an idiot when he laughs at you.

“no,” he answers, shaking his head.

“liar,” you accuse.

he tells you, “go to the zoo. there’s some there.”

you look up at him in disbelief. “you’re fucking with me,” she states and he shakes his head in complete amusement. “if you’re lying to me, i’ll—.”

“what? try to blind me again?” he asks, cutting you off.

“maybe i will,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

he pauses for a moment, considering. “maybe i want you to,” he says and his tone drops, like, two octaves when he says it.

you’re suddenly aware of how close the two of you are, how his hands gripped your waist just a moment before, how effortlessly he carried you. the playful atmosphere shifts and you feel heat creep up your neck and across your cheeks. you don’t blush, especially not around him.

“logan,” is all you say softly. he notices the change in tone. he notices everything about you, every detail, every flaw, every perfection.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the air between you is charged. your eyes travel all over his face. he really is such an attractive guy. and when you peel back the tough guy layer, he’s a sweetheart.

“thanks for the ride,” you say lightly, trying to break the tension.

he nods, gaze still locked on you. “anytime,” he remarks, his voice rougher than it was a moment before.

you both stand there for a few more seconds, not really sure where to go from here. his eyes shift from yours to your lip as you chew on it. his jaw tightens and he looks away from you, taking a step back to give you some space.

your heart pounds against your chest unfamiliarly. everything about this feels so new to you.

“see you around, pup,” you say, your voice back to its teasing tone.

“yeah,” he adds, watching as you turn away and walk back toward the mansion.

more days pass and you spend more time with logan. he notices that you make fun of him more, teasing him for small stuff.

it’s only when he’s in the laundry room that ororo catches him alone. “hey, logan,” she greets. he mumbles something of the same. “so…you look pretty cozy with a certain mutant.”

“huh?”

“you know what i’m talking about,” she says, leaning against a washing machine.

“it’s nothing,” he tells her, starting the machine he threw his clothes into haphazardly.

“‘doesn’t look like nothing,” she returns.

“leave it alone,” he grumbles, turning to leave the room.

ororo steps in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. “please, don’t hurt her, logan,” she requests.

“she doesn’t want me the way you think,” he tells her.

“you can’t seriously believe that,” she says, looking back and forth between his eyes.

at that very moment, you turn the corner and your eyes widen. you ignore the sting in your chest as you let out a loud “woah.” ororo quickly turns around and takes a step away from logan. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you tell them with your hands up in surrender, but that was exactly your intention when you spoke up.

“you weren’t interrupting anything,” logan tells you, watching you move past him to grab a laundry basket.

“i’m not judging,” you reply, walking back to the door. you turn back last second and look at ororo. “hey, if he asks you to wear a red wig, say no,” you tell her with a wink before leaving.

“i never—,” logan cuts himself off, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “i never did that,” he says to her.

“God, i hope not. what the hell,” she remarks, shoving his arm. “she was jealous. you need to go tell her nothing happened.” he sighs deeply and takes a step forward. “‘you really still think she doesn’t want you?”

he doesn’t reply and follows after you. you’re walking as quickly as you can up the stairs when he catches up to you. “hey,” he calls after you.

“don’t worry, buddy. secret’s safe with me,” you tell him, picking up your pace as you reach the top of the stairs but he keeps in step with you.

“there’s not a secret. we were just talking,” he says.

you place a hand on your bedroom doorknob. “really, you don’t have to defend yourself to me,” you say and open your door, slipping inside. before you can shut it, logan stops the door with his hand. you look at him through the crack in the door, pushing your lips into a thin line. “uhm…”

“there’s nothing going on between me and storm,” he tells you.

“i’m not gonna tell anybody,” you return, frustration rising in your tone. you push against the door but your strength is in no way comparable to his.

“i’m serious,” he tries again, almost pleading. “i don’t want her, i want—.”

“jean? look at that, finishing each other’s sentences again,” you cut him off with a false laugh.

“come on, darlin‘,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

you groan. “i just thought—,” you stop yourself, sighing. “it doesn’t matter what i thought.”

“it does matter,” he tells you, pushing the door a little wider. you move into the space between the doorway and the door, trying to block his view into the room. “tell me,” he encourages, getting closer to you.

“i thought you weren’t a whore,” you retort, giving him a hardened look.

“that’s not what you were gonna say,” he states lowly, looking deeply into your eyes. “what was it?” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the skin. he reaches his hand to your jaw, his thumb pulling the lip from between your teeth. “don’t do that. you know it drives me crazy.”

“i thought maybe you wanted me for more than sex,” you admit, feeling embarrassed as the words slip out. you clench your jaw, preparing for the rejection. a smirk slide onto his face and you drop your head. “okay, bye.”

you move back and push against the door again, but this time he pushes the door all the way open. your eyes widen as he takes a long stride toward you and pulls you back to him by the back of your neck. he presses his lips against yours feverishly to which you obviously reciprocate.

he pulls away and rests his forehead against yourself, breathing heavily. “i want you in every way possible, sweetheart,” he says.

you swallow thickly, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “you don’t want me,” you tell him. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into him, your chest pushing against his.

“i do,” he counters.

“you don’t,” you respond.

there’s a beat of silence. “i do,” he says again. you just look up into his eyes. “i want you. i’m not the best person for you, i know that. i’m older and unhappy and i probably can’t be there for you emotionally,” he lists then shakes his head at you, looking at you like you make the world go round. “but i want you, i want every part of you—the good, the bad, the hot and sexy, and the rude and snappy. everything.”

you’re quiet. you don’t know what to say, what is there to even say? in your head, he’s always wanted jean and you were just a place filler. you’ve been under the impression that you caught feelings and he didn’t reciprocate them at all. maybe you’re wrong just this once.

“i want you too,” you tell him in a whisper. he watches your brow furrow as you look away from his eyes. his face falls. “but—.”

“no ‘but.’ don’t say ‘but’,” he begs, loosening his grip on your waist.

“logan, i can live with you not being there for me emotionally, but i don’t know if you can live with me not being for you sexually,” you tell him. dread takes over your body. this beautiful, morally grey, perfect-for-you man is in the palm of your hand and you’re letting him slip through your fingers.

her visible confusion deepens. “you’ve been perfect for the past few months,” he tells you, misinterpreting your words as insecurity.

you shake your head. “i meant it when i said i can’t fuck you sober,” you tell him slowly, avoiding his gaze completely. you feel his hands move from his loosened grip to a hover over your hips. you can’t read his mind like you usually can. logan wears his thoughts on his face, perfectly readable when he’s mad or happy or just his normal grumpy. but now, it’s like trying to read a book in a language you didn’t know existed. “i’m sorry,” you add when his silence becomes too much.

“i don’t care,” he tells you as soon as you finish the last syllable.

“you know i don’t apologize for shit and you don’t care that i’m sorry?” you ask him. you go to push him off again but he pulls you back in, this time wrapping his around your neck, smothering your face in his burly chest.

“i don’t care about sex,” he tells you as he rests his head atop yours. you return the embrace and hold him around his ribs. “i don’t care if you never touch me again. i love you.” your eyes widen and he feels your body tense up. he chuckles, pulling away and smiling at you. “too soon?”

“a little,” you tell him, nodding. you then smile back at him.

———

a/n: i haven’t written in a long time . pls don’t rip me up if u hate this🙏

[dallasgallant]

So there’s something to be said about the age thing but what about the demonization? Dally gets the brunt of it when a good portion of the book is dedicated to pony going “oh he was my friend, he’s alright.” But a lot of people tend to act like he’s the literal anti christ.

Darry does get a lot of demonization/mischarecterization too but it’s definitely to a far lesser extent as people clarify more openly? I guess.

This isn’t me “defending his actions” (whatever that means because apparently to a lot of people that is just not thinking he’s irredeemable) just that his actions are blown out of the water to the point I don’t think people know what they’re mad at?

I think it stems from Dally being the coldest and meanest of the boys- he only breaks down in the end. He’s the most “bad boy” of a group of bad boys he breaks the law for fun etc. but this also goes into how a chunk of the fandom tends to ignore a lot of the gang do the same thing!

-> they get into fights, rob gas stations, get arrested, do drag races, harass and do wild shit against the rules or the law…. Sully the name of the good city but boy do they have fun.

All dally does is take things to their extreme as in the scene with Cherry you can see when it switches from flirting to harassment (giggling turns to anger)

Getting mad at him for this particularly but not the others feels almost hypocritical, pony talks about how if anyone else was there they would’ve joined in on cat calling and dirty talk (pony even admits himself but he has a stopping point. He teases girls he’s familar with)

Hell! This is ignoring Twobit in the movies “Hey baby, wanna see what’s hanging?” And lifting skirts.

I’m not saying this is an alright thing to do but I’m coming from the context of the time period normalizing certain behavior, character and place in the story. (Just because we know something doesn’t mean they do etc).

A lot of seems to be getting mad at a “bad boy”  archetype for being a “bad boy” archetype and ignoring others behavior. Also something something charecters can’t be complex now have to have complete moral purity.

Now if you interpret this and lump me in with people glorifying his behavior because he’s hot please read this again. 😭🙏 I like him for what he is alright. He’s fascinating.

[abby118]

It makes me so happy to see I’m not alone here. Honestly the Loki fandom is so fucking isolating, and I feel like if you say you prefer Pre-series Loki/Loki Prime whatever….you get shit flung at you. This fandom has done a really good job at making me scared to share my opinions. (Hell, I can’t even criticize the TVA without “UWU THE TVA ARE SMOL ANGST BLORBOS WITH TRAUMA! THEY’RE LOKI’s WHOLESOME FOUND FAMILY WHO HELPED HIM!!!”) It’s helped me a little bit to remember Loki in the series is a variant of our boy, because like…he’s literally nothing like Loki in the slightest and no offense to the fans, but it feels like a majority of them haven’t even TOUCHED the previous films. (Literally saw a post calling them old and outdated.)

Thank you for this blog. 🥺

Ooh yes, mhm. It can be isolating, for sure, but I also think we're fortunate that it did split into pre and post ragnarok eras of the fandom because some fandoms die when its source material gets retconned. I definitely relate to the opinion aimed towards the new "fans"; they're one of the most disrespectful and meanest people I have had the displeasure of interacting with in fandom spaces and I've been on this site for a while now.

And no, the character in the series is not a variant of Loki. The *only thing they share is a name, which has been stolen from the original character it rightfully belongs to, with the intent of cashing in on the fans. I refuse to refer to him as the same character. *They do share the same actor too, and as much as it hurts to say it, because Tom Hiddleston has been my favourite actor since I can remember - I was literally 9 when I joined the fandom when T1 came out..(for context, I'll be turning 22 this year), I no longer relate to how he views, or seems to view, Loki. And don't get me wrong, he will always be the person who played my favourite character, that will not change, but I do not see his interpretation of Loki as my own anymore. It doesn't even match his old one. And I know I'm not alone in feeling like this.

The TVA is a topic I don't have the energy to get into but it is beyond problematic. I'll just say that, I'm sure we all know what I'm getting at there. And I wouldn't even say it "feels" like the newer people haven't touched the movies. I have spoken to a few of them and it is an actual thing, apparently. Some of them started with ragnarok...which does explain a lot...and never bothered to check the original ones. And then they complain about feeling unwelcome among the fanbase, I wonder why that is, huh? - "I feel like if you say you prefer Pre-series Loki/Loki Prime whatever….you get shit flung at you. This fandom has done a really good job at making me scared to share my opinions."

Don't listen to them. Block them. They are not interactions that would bring you enjoyment or any sort of positive feeling and that's not what fandoms are supposed to be like, trust me. If you genuinelly feel upset about people's takes and opinion aimed towards you, you have every right to avoid them. Tumblr has no algorithm and blocking is nothing but curating your experience, you don't owe anything to these people. I, myself, have done this, including filtering tags, and it is so much more peaceful than when I rejoined (beacuse I changed blogs). Still, no longer being able to go to the main tag is incredibly sad.

Find a group of people you can interact with, follow the tags that are more specific and avoid what doesn't benefit your fun here. And thank you for being here, really. Especially for reaching out 💚🖤 I'm very glad you like my blog. I'm just doing my own thing, which in my case, means trying to stay true to the fandom I loved and enjoyed (and still do) from years ago, regardless of the notes or what people say. Because, at the end of the day, all that matters is your own enjoyment. I'm trying not to post too much negativity towards post2013 despite having a lot to say because there are blogs who do that, and do so well (thank you guys), and we need one that's focused on the good things too, but sometimes it really is needed. So thank you for the opportunity.

[knbmangareread]

The way Kise's golden retriever side comes out the most when he's around the people who are the "meanest" to him is very interesting (Kuroko, Aomine, Kasamatsu).

My own interpretation is that he's used to people liking him and being nice to him just because he's pretty. He became a model at a very young age and already had fans before he reached 14. Most of his relationships are very superficial and it is probably difficult for him to form close bonds, he can never be sure if people really like him and his personality or if they are just interested in his looks. Which also explains why he puts up a front when he meets new people.

With people like the Generation of Miracles and Kasamatsu (along with Kaijo, but with Kasamatsu it's clear from the start) who don't care at all about his appearance and who have never shown him any special treatment, he can form and develop a real relationship.

But he still want to be loved so he turn extra sweeter to people who are harsher to him like Kasamatsu, Kuroko or Aomine. Although this is only if he knows that there is no malice behind their words or actions, which is why he never got along or tried to get along with Haizaki, even though he was mean to him too.

[katyspersonal]

Fandomry tips on hcs.

I've met another user that was afraid to share their cool Maria story ideas out of fear that they'll get shunned as "hating masculine lesbians", so, just a few things:

1) No matter how popular a headcanon is, it doesn't become canon. Fandoms do not abide by majority rule in which you could never have an unpopular idea.

2) With LGBT+ headcanons, the less you justify them - the better. The rude minority might think that Maria "has" to be a lesbian because her hunter outfit resembles male Knight garb and she cares about a female friend, and everyone who disagrees "lack media literacy" and "has bias". What is it trying to say? That bi or straight women could not look masculine? That the only reason a woman would ever dress masculine is to be the 'man' for her femme? Or that women could not care about other women deeply unless they're attracted to them? Even "historical accuracy" excuse is obsolete, because Bloodborne clearly doesn't abide by real world's history Victorian antics. Female vicars/doctors/hunters and people of color being equal to white people is a dead give-away to that.

It is even more confusing with Malenia, who doesn't even look masculine. Not feminine, either. She looks like 'just a person'. So what makes her "canonically a lesbian"? The fact that she is a strong fearsome warrior? Why? Because bi or straight women would not fight but instead latch onto some guy to protect them...?

You see what I mean. Justifications for why an interpretation HAS to be one thing and not the other only make things worse and push people into very narrow, at times outright offensive stereotypes. 'She is this because I think so' is a good enough reason - and that's where you can see that someone else's thoughts will be JUST as valid!

3) Headcanons and fandomry are not activism. No minority will be effected just because in some fandom people ship some character in some ship. EVER. These things are for FUN, lesbians aren't fairies within which one dies every time you say "I don't headcanon X character as a lesbian". What do you think will happen if many, or even majority of people like bi (or even straight) headcanon instead of lesbian? A life essence of a whole demographics will be dried out?

4) "It is not that hard" is not an argument. It is never anyone's business why someone would deny a very inviting opportunity for a headcanon. Freedom and autonomy is the VERY base of having fun in the fandom. In fact, very often, it is this same toxic attitude what makes average users NOT want to celebrate a strong female character as a lesbian. Because they feel like they had no choice! And many people possess contradictory spirit, that might make them choose something as affirmation that they won't be mocked into thinking a certain way.

_______________

Honestly, it is NOT okay that here and there people have to feel afraid to do something as innocent as to share their ideas, and might just end up leaving an interesting character aside because loud and rude people scared them away. Do not let a character you like get "claimed" by some group just because they were the meanest, do not hide your awesome ideas but instead post them and TAG them. Fandoms are free spaces, not a middle school where the popular girls set the trends and decide who gets to be bullied.

And if some people can no longer enjoy a fandom or a character because other people got a different headcanon? Well, then they were not built to be in fandom spaces to begin with.

[iam93percentstardust]

Welp it's been almost an entire year since the last hate comment in my inbox, so I figured I was due for another one (and trust me, dear nonnie, you have nothing on the three months of targeted bullying and hate I went through at the end of 2022/beginning of 2023). But I think this is a good time to spend some time talking about authorial intent. Now, don't get me wrong, I think there are many, many things wrong with this comment, but their complete misunderstanding of what I wanted to accomplish with this fic is indicative of a wider problem that I'm seeing in fandom at the moment, so we're gonna talk a bit about critical thinking and authorial intent.

So I could point out that this comment sucks because the fic they're complaining about is a gift fic and the giftee loved the fic so anyone else's opinion doesn't matter, and thinking that your opinion matters more than the giftee's is the height of entitlement (but let's face it, being called entitled doesn't matter to this person).

Or I could point out that this fic was tagged with "Infidelity" so they had to have known what they were getting into when they first opened the fic and shouldn't be so horrified that the cheating fic contained cheating (but let's face it, we all know that they didn't read the tags, and I'm not even sure they read the fic since both characters were cheating, not just Tony).

But what I really want to focus on is how badly this person misunderstood what I was writing. This is a smut fic masquerading as a breaking up & making up fic. I wrote this fic specifically so I could write 6 sex scenes (which was the original prompt anyway). I didn't really want to focus on the feelings. They're there, they're present, they get mentioned to set the stage for the sex, but I don't spend thousands and thousands of words talking about the feelings and mental states of Steve and Tony.

Which means that for the parts where Steve and Tony are being "toxic" and "shitty," I don't go into a whole lot of detail as to why they're being toxic and shitty. I have a personal headcanon as to why they're acting like this, but it doesn't actually matter. What matters is that I made a deliberate choice not to include the justification for their actions so I could write the smut instead. I knew that I was writing Steve and Tony as toxic and shitty because that was the entire point.

Now, let's be honest here, this commenter doesn't care about any of this. "Disgusting" and "grossness" are a deliberately inflammatory word choice, and as my friend pointed out, they're being puritanical and moralistic. In other words, they're like any other of the growing number of pearl-clutching members of fandom I see these days.

But this post isn't really for them. This post is for everyone who's only reading fic through their own lens and forgetting that the author also had a purpose when they wrote the fic in the first place.

This isn't the first time someone has completely misunderstood what I was trying to do with a fic. It's one of the meanest, but it's not the first time. It happened with the professor/student fic I wrote in 2022 where I argued that just because two people were wrong for each other when they were younger that doesn't mean they're still a mismatch when they're older. The pining Tony/serial one-night stand Steve where almost all of the early comments were about how it should be switched and missed that that was the entire point (that Steve is the obvious choice for pining, and I wanted to explore what would switch that dynamic). The Christmas fic in 2021 where someone straight up told me I tagged it wrong just based on the summary.

So here's the thing: death of the author is only one interpretation of literary criticism, but it's by no means the only. Authorial intent is a perfectly valid way to interpret a fic, and in this case, it's arguably more valid than looking at it through the lens of death of the author because if the reader isn't considering my reasoning behind why I wrote the fic the way I did, then the point of it will go right over their head. Getting so hung up on my intentions, my background, my style of writing not mattering, on only their interpretation mattering, means that they only read the surface level of this fic. And that works just fine in other fics, but it doesn't work here. At all. Because the entire point of this fic is my intentions. I intended to write a smut fic that glossed over the feelings of the two characters involved. I intended for it to look like a toxic relationship from an outsider's perspective. I intended to write the prompt I saw for the person who prompted it.

And if you're not looking at it through what I intended, then all you're going to end up with is dissatisfaction and the belief that I made a mistake somewhere instead of realizing that I achieved exactly what I set out to do.

[f0point5]

I know this is rude but in my opinion MOST of the time Lando is getting called out for something he said, it’s usually not even Lando being intentionally shady or rude or disrespectful or anything like that. I just think he isn’t very intelligent and also not very socially aware. He doesn’t seem know when to speak or how to word things. A lot of the things he’s got criticism for saying would’ve been perfectly understandable if worded slightly different or said in a different situation .

I think Lando is shadier than his fans think he is, but wayyyyy less calculated and mean spirited than people like to pretend. He just seems like a bit of a brat sometimes which hey aren’t we all. I think he just doesn’t think before he speaks and it seems like that might be a chronic problem, like he’s not able to? Because maybe he doesn’t care but also it seems like once he’s had time to think he comes round to a more balanced view so like why can he not just zip it for a bit? Idk. To me that’s a bit of an intelligence thing.

Also, the way he expresses himself is just generally not great, I feel. It’s a real talent and a sign of intelligence in my book to be able to make yourself heard and understood. To have people hear things the way you intend is what makes a good communicator and I don’t think he is one. A lot of the time people jump to the meanest way to interpret what he says and that’s not on him but also, I don’t think he is very articulate. Sometimes I read something he said and I’m like “why would you say that?” And then I read it 4 times and I’m like “oh so what you’re probably trying to say is this, which is pretty reasonable, but the word choice is so rogue I can see why people think you sound like a douche”. And I give him the benefit of the doubt most of the time because he doesn’t come across as the nasty person people make him out to be at all. I don’t think it’s realistic to assume he’s always subtly shitting on people or frankly that he thinks so much about what he says

[liverobinreaction]

I love the fact that it was Steph, Tim, and Cass who had been calling out Jason's shitass plans and dramatic ass persona in the latest chapter.

It's the fact that these three didn't know him at all, having joined the family after him and therefore didn't have the emotional turmoil Alfred, Bruce, and Dick have.

It's the fact that they are the ones who can understand him having gone through same shit(Steph being the alley kid and having problems with Bruce, Tim dying and resurrecting so many times, Cass's bad dad and assassin training) also means that they are less forgiving towards his actions (or atleast definitely more annoyed in Tim's case)

Just love it 10000/10, these three ate, truly "Teenagers scare the shit out of me" And "Teenagers are the meanest people in the world" Moment, kick his ass my children you all are doing amazing

YEAAAAAH THANK YOU!!! I knew that those three wouldn't have the same baggage as the rest of the Bats, and therefore don't have the same emotional connection, at least not directly.

Together, they would be the biggest foil to Jason's plans, as they all represent specific parts of him, but they coped in a very different way.

Steph is an alley kid and has committed her life to helping those in similar situations to her, but her friction with Bruce has made her hyperaware of her mortality and how little she matters to Bruce in the long run (this is incorrect but he's so shit at showing otherwise). She never had the bond Jason had with Bruce, and therefore her expectations for him (in relation to her) are super low. She aligns with Bruce because they fight the same fight, but she doesn't trust him with her. He is not her parent, he is not her mentor, they are barely coworkers in her eyes. As a result, Jason's behaviour makes her annoyed and frustrated. It's a bit of jealousy (why does HE get to have dad!batman and not her) and also confusion (how did he live with Bruce for this long and not understand his priorities???)

Bansheeverse!Tim has been traumatised over and over by his own deaths, despite his proclamations otherwise, to the point that his annoyance at people fussing over it slowly bleeds into annoyance at Jason's actions. He genuinely doesn't understand. Like in the original banshee fic, Tim's view of it slowly changes as he sees the others accept Jason back, resulting in a 'his death meant more because he means more as a person'. Crack Your Molars!Tim has not gone through this yet. Nor was he attacked by Jason. This results in him going the opposite direction to Bansheefic!Tim. Jason is a pest, he's taking things too seriously, and most importantly, he made the Bats aware of his powers, and that's really unforgivable to Tim.

Cass is only vaguely similar to Jason (via assassin ninja training), but beyond that, they are completely different. Cass cannot empathise with him at all. She has incredibly strict lines when it comes to killing, even stricter than Bruce, so Jason absolutely baffles her. To her, Jason kills because he can. He kills because he's lashing out. Because he can't control himself. He kills and therefore he is an enemy. And that's before he tried to attack Tim. Once Tim and Steph become involved, Jason is not just an enemy, but a threat to her people. I interpret Cass as someone who has massive respect for people who have the power to kill someone, but don't. I think it's why she's so close to Tim. Bruce is very similar to Cass, yes, but Bruce is also an adult, and subconsciously treats her like a weapon, just a non-lethal one. Tim doesn't do that. Neither does Steph. They have the power to kill, but do not use it, they have chosen to protect people, and while they appreciate her presence in their mission, they do not expect it of her. They are therefore Hers. And both Bruce and Jason mark themselves as threats to them. The gloves therefore come off.

Together, they are so so catty and mean and wonderful and kind, and I really need to write more about them. They're in a codependent queerplatonic relationship your honour.

[alicole-sideblog]

Criston's parents

Initially I didn't like the notion that Criston's father met his mother while on campaign in Dorne, abducted her, and brought her back with him. I thought, "The ASOIAF verse doesn't mean you have to immediately jump to the meanest interpretation of everything."

But I'm coming around to it. I think it contextualizes Criston in an interesting way.

Context for Rhaenyra/Criston

I'm increasingly interested in Criston viewing his experience with Rhaenyra through the lens of his parents' relationship.

Theirs was a fanficy abduction, for lack of a better term, where Pa Cole prizes and dotes on Mama Cole. By the time he could remember, their relationship seemed ok on a day-to-day level. And Criston is glad that he and his siblings were born. So he thinks of his parents as a sus origin story which was retroactively redeemed by the life they built together.

Criston is deeply uneasy about what Rhaenyra did — but he thinks of his parents. Pa felt so strongly about Mama that he went out of bounds because of it. This was so serious, such a big deal — a whole future and potential family hung in the balance — that it perhaps warranted it. So if this situation with Rhaenyra is similar, maybe it's ok.

Context for Aemond/Alys

Fire & Blood says Criston and Aemond had some sort of kerfuffle at Harrenhal. Mushroom attributes this to a love triangle over Alys. My guess is that the kerfuffle was real, but the love triangle was just Mushroom making everything soapy.

It would be interesting — and painful — if Criston's family background left him very uncomfortable with Aemond "taking her into his bed as a prize of war" (or even just appearing to do so). This is to him an up-front view of that really uncomfortable part of his parents' relationship. It's low-key triggering, bringing up all sorts of old family baggage he hadn't thought about in years.

[violetlens]

ghoulette halloween costumes babey

sunshine is mater tenebrarum from argento's three mother's trilogy!! youngest and meanest member of the coven. let her be batshit crazy without tossing her in as an afterthought to the other short crazy ghoul. she's gonna have her curls out wearing a fun little nurse outfit and staring just a bit too hard at everybody. chefs kiss

cumulus!!!! mater lachrymarum. prettiest and the most powerful + the tears element of the title is just SO cumulus to me i can't explain it. furthering my aurora/cumulus pack princesses agenda. cumulus will find a little cat somewhere to carry around and pet while staring really hard at everyone. also her in a cunty black dress

cirrus will be dressed as mater suspiriorum. whether that means she's going as a fucked up grotesque almost-rotting centuries old woman or a dance student will be up to your interpretation! i can not shut up about this series and halloween finally gave me an excuse to yell about it. one of the oldest ghoulettes for one of the oldest witches

mist and lume are matching! let's see what they're dressed up as

mist will keep her hair curly and put on a cute little 80s-y getup. rennie from friday the 13th, i'll explain in lume's part but! girlfriends who stalk each other girlfriends who stalk each other girlfriends who stalk each other. ifrit helped do her hair :)

lume will have her usual dress and veil with a flannel and a hockey mask for laughs! this costume is self explanatory but i love the marine/forest stuff that happens in those movies. meant for these two ghoulettes

aurora will have the most adorable jester outfit ever, complete with a nose that honks when squeezed (tested by swiss and mountain) and a bloody knife. whether this is her dressing as michael myers or her wanting to scare papa is up for debate

eden and the other cellist ghoulettes are gonna be yellowjackets characters! i still haven't seen any discussion of said other cellist ghoulettes yet so. eden as the antler queen! wilderness-associated and a bit of cannibalism thrown in as a treat :) also gay girl cult imagery. perfect for the nameless ghoulettes

[vsnotresponding]

Happy STS! Could I possibly see a really mean line of dialogue from a character? (Interpret that however you like) - @trixierosewrites

hello and thanks for the ask !!!

not the absolute meanest line but ough. it is a symptom of how áine thinks of karma and how she doesn't think about him as he thinks of her

“You are not dumb enough to apologize for the accident,” she stops me and rubs her hair. “It was not only your fault, Karma. We were all responsible, you know it, and we have repeated it to you—”

what makes it worse is that this is supposed to be comforting 💀

(for reference, the accident caused the death of karma's mom)

[beevean]

A but of an inconclusive rant that makes more sense in my head.

“Humanization” seems to have become a synonim for “adding positive/likeable traits to a character”...

But it’s not necessarily that?

For example, when I write Hector, I add more negative traits to him. I wrote him being mean to Isaac, aiming at his insecurities when he’s fed up with him. I wrote him being condescending to Rosaly, looking down on her for being too pious for him (he gets better lol). I wrote him having zero empathy for humans at first, not even understanding the concept that children are supposedly innocent. I emphasized how self-centered his heel face turn started out. I keep repeating that I'd love to see more of the coldhearted General Hector who committed war crimes in the name of a genocidial Dark Lord. And I even praised two parts of N!Hector: the fact that he himself burned his own parents, unlike in canon where the animals/demons did it for him, and the fact that he saw humans as animals to be culled, but without a hint of resentment, almost out of innocent pity.

Isn’t that humanization too? Isn’t that fleshing out a character? Or does it count only when it’s time to give an unrepentant manchild of a villain sudden fatherly emotions?

Speaking of Eggman, you know what also counts as humanizing him for me?

Eggman loves amusement parks and circuses. There is no deeper reason for it, no secret childhood trauma. He enjoys creating colorful places and if they can be used to exercise control, all the better. It’s his unique way to shape the world. It’s a character trait that he doesn’t need, but he has it, and it fleshes him out.

And you know what else humanizes him? The Egg Memo where he complains that Maria stole the spotlight from him because she dared to be ill and be killed. He’s jealous and selfish and insensitive and constantly seeking attention - aren’t those human traits too? Can’t they be relatable too, as much as we wouldn’t like to admit it?

Another villain who got humanized in a negative way is Isaac in the MF manga. Once again, I link to my analysis of that scene (bottom of the post) where he killed his own underlings because he wanted to disobey Dracula’s direct orders, all while thinking of himself as his most loyal servant, in a brilliant display of hypocrisy and denial that IMO makes him even more interesting. From the same manga, I also am still not over that one page where he shows fear over being approached by his caretaker (?): however you interpret it, whether it’s a reaction to nearly dying, to losing his master and home, or to being betrayed by Hector, this is a human reaction, albeit a negative one.

On the flip side, what about Sonic? Does Sonic need to be humanized by making him more of a jerk? Or, god forbid, by adding a completely unnecessary moral “dilemma”? Or is the fact that this speedster actually loves sitting down and reading books enough to give him more depth? Or the fact that he loves nature, or the fact that he is both empathetic and has a noticeable ego that sometimes gets him into trouble? I think it is. Sonic is a simple character at his core, but he has so many cute quirks that he ends up being both an inspiration, which is what he’s meant to be, and endearing :)

“Humanization” means writing a character in such a way that they’d feel human, like people you could meet in real life. It doesn’t mean “adding more palatable traits”. Humans are not inherently good, nor they are inherently evil, they are simply complex. You can write the meanest bastard in the world, you can write the goodiest hero with the most unshakeable heart, and if you add extra traits like tastes or quirks, and if you can make them fit with their core characterization, that counts as writing them as human.

[0last-ditch-effort0]

love how you can say "i mean this in the Not Meanest Way possible" and allistics immediately interpret it as "I am trying my uptmost to be a total bitch to you without consequences"

[bearsgrove]

✨ oc tag game wahoooo! ✨

aight so here's the tag game i wasn't tagged in but wanted to do and @gwynbleidd and @graveyaird convinced me that i should 😔 along with u two i tag @werecanidae and @sylkana and anyone else who feels like doing this 🐏

favourite oc - ok thats a very difficult and unfair question, i love all of them so so much, they all mean a lot to me for different reas– ravell. its a toss between ravell and kaz tbh but. ravell. ravell means Everything to me.

newest oc - probably avery? whom i dont talk about a whole lot because they are from the [redacted] Duology 🙃. if we consider an oc from 2 and a half years ago new lmao. listen, i havent been making new ocs much, i just had a period of time when i made a bunch. so avery is a very rare exception of a new oc. im honestly surprised she sort of.. stuck around and i genuinely love her a lot. she was made out of the need to play as a new h*wke because ive been playing as the same one since the dawn of time. she gave my game experience a much needed fresh air and some nuance too.

oldest oc - ravell. or the version of. ravell in sk/rim was very much based on an already existing original character and those two characters still somehow intertwine to this day. there are subtle differences but they are more or less the same person. but when it comes to ocs i talked about on here, which are usually just ocs for this or that game, excluding any original story ones then yeah its ravell.

meanest oc - lyrhis? i know i still present her on here as a dos2 oc but she is an original story oc and i only put her in dos2 because 1) it felt like it would fit her 2) she is important to me and i wanted to be able to still talk about her on here without feeling like she doesnt fit in because she isnt from a game lol. i think her being "mean" is more about her being generally very otherwordly, inhuman and therefore aloof - which can get interpreted as mean i guess - because her perception of things is very different. calling her "mean" even feels weird because that word implies this sort of.. human meanness, spitefulness, generally being malicious for some reason. if anything calling her "mean" is maybe an understatement. she is just kinda cold-blooded, cruel, ruthless. ok you know who is actually a mean oc. evan. he is the opposite of what i just said about lyrhis. he isnt cruel or cold-blooded, but he is spiteful, malicious and can cause a lot of harm with only his words and need for revenge or simple spite. i think that to be mean one still has to be human, its a human trait. and he is human, there is a reason for why he is like that. lyrhis isnt human in the first place.

softest - hera 😔 literally my only normal oc. and she spends a lot of time in the sewers, talks to her rats and overall is a bit Odd but. she is the least evil out of my ocs and carries the least amount of baggage lmao. sure she has been through shit but she is the only oc that turned out "fine" after her personal trauma. but other than that she is very compassionate, considerate and has a strong moral code

most aloof/standoffish - well idk. its a toss between lyrhis i guess for reasons i already mentioned and then wren. which is quite a difference lmao. those two come to mind first but then also ravell, ives and avery. eh, most of my ocs probably seem standoffish, its one of their most common traits. but in conclusion i would say wren? if only because wren is actually a lot like hera, my other more or less only normal oc with an actual moral code and someone who has other people's interests and feelings in mind. but unlike hera wren outwardly appears very cold and most people would describe them as aloof. they are simply distant and keep to themselves but definitely are not internally aloof, they feel a lot, they simply don't show it. but the aloofness of others (ravell, ives, avery…) definitely comes from a lack of emotional intelligence as well as simply being a reserved bunch in general

dumbest oc - probably ravell :( if we compare their general Knowledge about things with my other ocs they are definitely the dumbest. but they are not Stupid. i think them being dumb can just be summed up into them not Knowing many Things and acting/speaking without thinking. they dont do much thinking. which can lead to them making mistakes because they most often act on impulse. they are rational, they can be very smart and cunning, but also they do strike me as the dumbest of my ocs sometimes

smartest oc - hmmm. cant decide between lyrhis, evan, nate and kaz. leaning towards kaz fsr, even though outwardly he would appear as the dumbest out of this group. but i think the other 3 while being smart are also just generally very learned and academically smart. but kaz has that natural smartness about him. idk how to explain my brain power ran out half way into this tag game ngl

horniest - evan.

oc you'd bang - hmmmmm i cant decide between "all of them" and "none of them". like. i know most of them are very hot and right up my alley (i mean I made them) but at the same time. they have way too many similarities with me for me to be able to comfortably say that i would fuck them lmao. i know who i wouldnt tho 100%- ravell. i think over the years they became too much of their own person. like ravell is real to me ok. and i respect them too much as a person to say something like that lol. ok well. i just realized something. i change my statement to "all of my ocs that are women". i figured out why i didnt feel comfortable saying "all of them" lmao. because not all of them identify as women!

oc you'd be best friends with irl - kaz. kaz has unironically been my best friend for as long as i can remember. i think that even when i was making him at the back of my mind i would think "ok who do i need? thats who this character is" and back then i needed a friend! as cringe as it is. one good friend. who would be just my person. and no one else's. ok my abandonment issues are showing again and recently i'm noticing way too many past signs and patterns