#in so long so really what are the chances i get accepted for that

[cometconmain]

Just gonna point out here (targeted in the direction of anyone calling the CEO shooter a terrorist) that this constant slapping of 'terrorism' on shit that isn't by people in power who want to delegitimise acts of measured violence against specific people in power who actively caused the suffering and death this was about are making people stop treating that term seriously and I think that's a really big problem.

Nobody else died. Whoever did definitely kill the CEO didn't blow up an entire building to get to one guy. He didn't do a mass shooting of the building to get to the one guy. He didn't target random civillians and hold them hostage and sexually assault and slaughter them while planning killing as many people as possible regardless of what they've done or not done as individuals. He didn't attack a concert to get one guy. His only political statement with the murder was 'these people have been murdering us in the tens of thousands for decades and it's time they understood we've had enough through the only language they seem to understand because they ignored us when we were talking peacefully and went on killing us anyway because due process was never going to stop them when they have the game rigged in their favour.' And he made sure only the person responsible for these acts of horrific fatal negligence against innocent people was the one who died and no one else. That's not terrorism. At most it's assassination and we can argue about whether or not that's a helpful mindset to be accepting in the long term as much as people like but for fuck's sake people HAVE TO STOP labelling shit terrorism that isn't. It's watering the term down and people who are rightfully angry at being shut down at every turn when they do things that can't be swept under the rug (which applies to all kinds of non-fatal activism so don't come at me on that) are starting to ignore actual terrorism when it happens because their experience is that anyone using that word is just trying to remove the last shred of power a group has to stand up to their oppressors.

Do we have to just also make sure we consciously don't let ourselves redefine that term in either direction? Yes. But it's a two way street and everyone else misusing that word in the first place need to meet us in the middle in not waving it around slapping anyone and any activism they're made uncomfortable by like it's a wet noodle regardless of what the people they're slapping are ACTUALLY doing or not doing.

If we decide terrorism is bad (and obviously actual terrorism genuinely is!!), and then decide anything involving any form of violent resistance in the face of increasingly violent oppression is now terrorism, what kind of message do we send to all the people who are basically being told they're not allowed to resist that oppression now even if the situation isn't changing enough from the peaceful measures because every time they come with an olive branch they're met by a policeman/soldier's baton/tear gas/taser or even bullet?

The longer we go without listening to people when they ARE talking, and shutting down all other avenues to reach change except for the violence we also condemn as blanketly wrong regardless of circumstance, the more enraged and violent those people will get. It's basic psychology and easy enough for people not experiencing that inescapable oppression to say kindergarten level shit like 'violence is bad; killing is wrong.' If someone tries to kill you in the street and necessary escalation to stop them results in their dying, is that wrong? But they were trying to kill you. Were you supposed to limit yourself and increase your chances of death because they had a family? What about your family?

There have to be nuances to this because the world is more complicated than the play room where all the toddlers who can't handle that nuance are. Little Tommy isn't stopping little Johnny from talking to him because he doesn't have that kind of power. An adult can step in and resolve the child-level issue and make Tommy listen to Johnny and teach them to handle conflict peacefully and respectfully.

That doesn't apply to the adult-level capitalist world where money over millions of people's lives is the norm and intricately rigged and enforced so it never changes through peaceful resolution (we can keep chipping away and we do make things more bearable than the rich people want to give us, but it's a constant and exhausting battle while in the meantime everyone we love is either dead, dying or at risk of dying around us every day this goes without being properly fixed). In a world where a homeless man can be murdered in cold blood on a subway train after the attack stopped, but a CEO who has killed a horrific number of people in cold blood himself gets shot and his killer made an example of to the angry populace who see this discrepancy and understand that the powerful are only trying to maintain their status quo, there is only so much saying "Please pretty please stop killing us. We're human beings. We've justified to you over and over again why what you're doing is wrong and you still kill us with no consequences and no end in sight but maybe if we just keep talking and expecting a different result it'll happen" can do to stop the status quo that is constantly being propped up by corporate and governmental interests.

No one actually wants to be in a civil war. Most of us don't want to kill people. Bringing the rich and powerful who have killed so many to justice through due process and a proper trial is always going to be better and healthier for our society than walking up to them and shooting them.

But if you give people no other choice because you will never see that proper trial by your own design...

What else are those suffering and dying meant to do? Just keep suffering and dying quietly? Accept this constant violence toward them only to have their desperate violence called unacceptable and wrong and terrorism while yours is quietly swept under the rug?

Never target innocents. Never try to wipe out an entire group of people for the actions of a few. That IS terrorism and unjust and unacceptable because it's unnecessary force against random innocent people. But if the few who are doing those horrific actions aren't being stopped by normal societal methods of dealing with them peacefully and they continue shutting down every avenue you try to take to make them face justice non-violently and you actively make sure only to target them that's not terrorism. That's being pushed to the brink and finally breaking the way everyone will eventually under that type of oppressive violence and then making sure only the people actually committing that violence against you receive violence in return. That's self defence.

This literally is the only course left in a truly dystopian system where there truly is no end in sight except through making it clear people can't take it anymore, because they don't let people express that peacefully either. What else are those people supposed to do when you will never go to trial and ALSO refuse to let due process and proper trials happen to those you want silenced?

Terrorism stopped sounding like a bad thing to us when people made it mean anything they didn't like. And that's seriously fucked up because actual terrorism where people are targeted indiscriminately for a political or religious statement really is wrong and fucked up and unnecessary and has to stop. It's never necessary to do that even if it's about fighting the status quo and increasingly violent oppression. You can do that without killing or even risking innocents. The guy who shot the CEO proved that. There's a middle line to walk here and we have to make sure we don't let people flopping labels around like wet noodles make us think that terrorism is just ok now because it's been applied so frequently to defence of the public both violent and peaceful in a system where they shut down all other methods of change they would have to listen to otherwise.

And the people treating it like a wet noodle only to go on to committing acts of violence and aggression to terrorise the public with no repercussions themselves have to stop doing all of that and all the shit this is about in the first place. We know what the authorities are doing with this public spectacle and all it's doing is making people angrier and happier to commit more violence. This is how you get more and actual terrorism, not less of it, because people with less care for those nuances are going to see you doing this shit and decide that makes it necessary to expand the crosshairs. (Again, people need to know the difference and choose not to do that; but you know these assholes will jump on that the second it happens to lend credence to their decrying of genuinely necessary and properly measured violence against them to stop their constant unrelenting oppressive violence against everyone else. And then all the bootlickers who have not yet experienced the leopards eating their faces will tut tut and decry everything too in support of the leopards all while those leopards are eyeing up their faces next.)

Honestly I'm pretty sure the Redcoats would have called the Americans fighting for their freedom 'terrorists' during the American Revolution if that had been something they could use to delegitimise the Americans' cause in the public eye. It would be interesting to see what they did say instead because it's unfortunately a very effective tactic people in oppressive power over others use all the time now. I wonder if people used to fall for it as badly back then too as they do in the modern era.

"I’m very concerned about my client’s right to a fair trial in this case.  He’s being prejudiced by some statements that are being made by government officials. Like every other defendant, he’s entitled to a presumption of innocence. But unfortunately the way this has been handled so far his rights are being violated. And as you know, Your Honor, there’s a wealth of case law guaranteeing his rights to a fair trial, but none of the safeguards have been put in place yet here — in fact it’s just the opposite of what’s been happening. 

He’s a young man, and he is being treated like a human pingpong ball between two warring jurisdictions here.

These federal and state prosecutors are coordinating with one another at the expense of him. They have conflicting theories in their indictment, and they are literally treating him like he is some sort of political fodder, like some sort of spectacle. 

He was on display for everyone to see in the biggest staged perp walk I’ve ever seen in my career. It was absolutely unnecessary. He’s been cooperative with law enforcement. He’d been in custody for over a week. He waived extradition. He was cooperative at all accounts. There was no reason for the NYPD and everybody to have these big assault rifles — that frankly I had no idea it was in their arsenal — and to have all the press there the media there. It was perfectly choreographed. 

And what was the New York City Mayor doing at this press conference, Your Honor? That just made it utterly political. And as your honor knows under Loro v. Charles, the Court of Appeals for the 2nd Circuit has held it to be clearly established that these staged perp walks to the media unrelated to a legitimate law enforcement objective is unconstitutional. And I submit that there was zero law enforcement objective to do that sort of perp walk. There’s absolutely no need for that whatsoever. 

And frankly, Your Honor, the mayor should know more than anyone about the presumption of innocence that he, too, is afforded dealing with his own issues. And, frankly, I submit that he was just trying to detract from those issues by making a spectacle of Mr. Mangione. 

And there are consequences to this. 

He has a right to a fair trial. And I just want to put on the record statements that the mayor made publicly about my client. Nothing saying “alleged” for example. And he said “I wanted to send a strong message with the police commissioner that we’re leading from the front. I’m not just going to allow him to come into our city. I wanted to look him in the eye and state ‘You carried out this terrorist act in my city, the city of New York that I love.’” And he wanted to show symbolism. 

Your Honor, he’s not a symbol. He’s somebody who is afforded the right to a fair trial. He’s innocent until proven guilty. And the mayor was talking to jurors — future potential jurors that elected him. Those are the people that elected him that he is talking to and calling this man a terrorist.

So, Your Honor, I just want to make a record of this and put everyone on notice that this has to stop, and my client is entitled to a fair trial and the presumption of innocence."

[aroace-madness]

Comfortable

Captain Marvel was a wonderful guy, friendly, caring, loyal to a fault and always cheery

Everyone loved him or at least respected him

The Justice League especially

So it's not a surprise when the Captain hasn't answered their calls and messages for a few days, they decided to visit him in his home city, Fawcett

Fawcett is a nice city, weird as hell and concerning at times but it had its own beauty

So in all honestly no one was shocked when a big piece of metal came hurling at the league the very second they stepped a foot in the borders of the city

Clark didn't have a chance to take off the ground before a woman in a silver helmet caught it, beside the helmet from which they could see her long Brown hair, she wore a red shirt, a blue belt, and gloves boots and a yellow bottom of a bodysuit that showed off her legs

She putted the piece of metal down on the ground and landed in front of them

“Hello, I’m Bulletgirl” the woman- Bulletgirl extended her hand for a handshake and Diana, who was the closest to her, accepted it

“Nice to meet another sister in arms, I’m Wonder Woman and this” she gestured at her friends “is the Justice League”

“Oh the Justice League, we heard so much about you” Bulletgirl smiled brightly “it's so nice to finally meet you properly, I apologise for the welcome you got but we’ve been having a bit of a problem for the last few day”

“Which includes flying pieces of metal?” Barry cocked his eyebrow, not that she could see

Bulletgirl didn't say anything, just pointed behind her

There was a gigantic robot walking through the city, it seemed to try and swat away whatever was flying around it, probably Captain

“Yeesh” that was Hal

“Yeah, Dr Sivanna started wreaking havoc in that robot a few days ago and we're trying to get him out without damaging the city and hurting people” Bulletgirl rubbed the back of her neck “we’re herding him to a less populated area and evacuating people from there to lessen the risks of anything happening”

Before anyone from the league could say anything, red blurr hitted the ground in front of them

“Ugh” the blur turned out the be a man

“Hi sweetheart” Bulletgirl waved at the man who was apparently her love “i see your ‘i can handle it’ is doing well”

“Oh yeah kick the lying one” the man managed to sit up with a grunt, he was wearing the same helmet as Bulletgirl

“I have the honor to introducing my dunce of a husband Bulletman” the woman said as she helped her husband stand up, his costume was very similar to his wifes, the only difference really were pants and a lack of gloves

“Nice to meet you” he turned to Bulletgirl “Do you have to call me that?” Bulletman grimaced a which made his wife laugh and kiss his cheek

“Now don't be dramatic dear i've called you far worse”

“True” Bulletman shrugged and dusted his clothes off “so, you're the infamous Justice League we’ve been hearing so much about”

“That's us” Clark smiled

“You do look like a bunch of well meaning people, even that shadow guy over there” he pointed at Bruce “dressed in black, cowl, long cape, gloomy demeanor, you must be Batman”

Batman just grunted in acknowledgament

“How are things going back there?” Bulletgirl asked her husband

“Oh, Voltage and Mary are evacuating people from a neighbourhood that Captain, Mr Scarlet and Ibis are herding Sivanna to”

“That's good” She patted his shoulder and turned back to the Justice League “so what brings you to Fawcett anyways?”

“Oh” Barry perked up “we wanted to see how Cap is doing since he hasn't been answering his comms for the past few days but we see why”

“Yeah” there was a silence for a moment “sooooo, do you guys want to help us out with that?”

Everyone agreed

Clark flew over to where the machine was and created a makeshift corridor from ice

Hal started herding the robot with his projections alongside Captain Marvel who waved at him and a man in a red turban

Shayera, Bulletgirl and Bulletman were flying around the robots head to try and confuse Sivana and IT seemed to work

Sivanas machine was slowly stepped towards a big, circular housing estate while Barry was quickly evacuating the last of civilians from the dangered area

When he was finally in a right position, Diana wrapped her lasso around the robots legs, Bruce did the same with his grappling hook

Shayera, Hal and Bullegirl started pushing at the shoulders of the robot while Captain Marvel and Bulletman were pulling them

The robot lost its footing and started to lose its balance. Clark made a giant ice wall to cushion the fall

The machines upper body fell on the ice and shattered it to about a half of it's height before stopping (Barry made sure to catch and put away the pieces of ice, before any of them landed on any building)

Bulletgirl opened the hatch of the machines head and took Sivana out, holding him by the scruff of his kilt while he was kicking and screaming, flailing his arms around

“I’ll take him to the police, Mister Scarlet is already with them making sure that there aren't any any injured or god forbid casualties” Bulletgirl said as she flew away from Sivana in her hand

The rest of the two groups gathered on the ground by the robot

“That was awesome guys” Barry smiled as he joined the group

“It sure was” Bulletman nodded his hand and putted his hands on his hips, seconds before he got tackled and putted in a one arm headlock by Marvel

“You guys were great!” Captain smiled in his typical fashion as he held the Bulletman

The man didn't seem too bothered by his current situation

“Do you have to do that every time?” The man in a red turban asked, tilting his head a bit

“You know I do, Ibis” Marvel grinned at the man, Ibis apparently “you guys were great too” Captain directed his attention to them, completely shifting his attitude

Before any of the League members could say anything else they got interrupted by two blurs, red and blue, flying straight into the Captain

The man didn't budge and just caught the two into his other arm

The red blur was a girl, looked almost identical to Captain, Mary Marvel

The blue blur was a guy, Voltage

Captain didn't say anything, just dropped them as they kept laughing and cheering

“Alright Cap, I think it's time for you to let go of Bulletman” Mr Scarlet said, leaning a bit on Ibis

Marvel sticked his tongue out at Mr Scarlet and eased his arm, letting the other man slip out of his grasp

Bulletman took advantage of his freedom and slapped Captain in the arm. Captain was about to slap back when Bulletgirl landed next to them

“Alright, Sivana is taken care of” she dusted her hands off and looked at the mess

“Yeah this is going to be a bitch to clean up” Ibis sighed

“Yeah, how about you guys start and I’ll escort our guests” Bulletgirl smiled

“Yeah yeah, you do you” Voltage rolled his eyes as he was already starting the clean-up

Bulletgirl motioned to the league to follow her, and they did

“Did Captain Marvel seem, different to you guys?” Clark his friends in a shushed voice as they walked trough the streets of the city

“He did seem much more relaxed around the other guys” Barry rubbed his chin

“He also called them by their names, without all these “Misses” and “Misters” he always uses when addressing one of us” Shayera pointed out

“Hmm” Bruce hummed, thinking

They arrived at the city borders and stopped in front of Bulletgirl

“It was really nice meeting all of you and thank you for your help” she smiled at them brightly

“It was nice meeting you and your friends too” Clark smiled back

“Uhh” Hal interjected “I got a question, you see, Captain Marvel seemed much more relaxed around you guys, how did you get him to let loose?”

Bulletgirl stared at Hal for a few moments

“Is he overly polite with you, is always respectful and seems like he would rather die than be mean to any of you?”

The League was left dumbfounded for a few seconds

“Uhh yeah” Barry nodded “how did you know?”

“Because he was the exact same way with us when he started out as a hero of Fawcett” Bulletgirl explained

“There is no way that's true” Hal shook his head

“Oh but it is, it took him about five years to finally let loose, you gotta give him some time. How long has he worked with you?”

“About a year and a half now” Diana answered

“Oh yeah, it’s much too soon for him” Bulletgirl laughed

“Maybe he does need time to get comfortable” Diana rubbed the back of her neck “how long have you been working together”

“Oh we’ve been fighting together since 1960”

“1960!?” Barrys eyes bulged out, same as the rest of the League really

“What do you mean 1960?” Clark asked in shock, he wasn't even on earth in 1960, he doubted that he was even in plans during that time

“Not to sound rude or anything but how old are you?” Hal asked

“Oh i’m 35” she answered, as if she’s not frying the justice leagues brains

“Wait, wait, wait” Shayera shook her head “ if you've been working with Cap since 1960, then how are you still 35?”

“That's because of the Suspendium” Bulletgirl said as if it explained anything. She must have noticed their confusion since she started talking again “Dr Sivana used a chemical he created, Suspendium, to trap Captain Marvel, Mary Marvel and Voltage in a force Field that would keep them suspended animation, something went wrong and instead of just capturing the three, the entire city got surrounded by the time bubble, as we call it, with Sivana in it. Captain managed to pop the bubble two years ago”

“Two years ago was when there were first sighting of Captain Marvel” Bruce pointed out

“Yes, the second the bubble popped, Captain started flying around the world”

“Wait” Clark shook his head “how come we never heard of something like that ever happening?”

“Oh” Bulletgirl rubbed the back of her neck “apparently everything and everyone that was trapped in the time bubble was completely erased from the maps and history books and only came back when the bubble was popped”

“That doesn't make any sense” Bruce sighed as he rubbed his temples

“Nothing makes sense, bat boy” Bulletgirl shrugged “now, as much as it's nice standing here and talking I really should help with cleaning” She said as she took of from the ground and bid them adieu

“God this is so weird” Barry sighed

“You're telling me?” Clark slumped a bit

“I think it's best if we don't think about it too much” Diana patted her friends shoulders

As they came back to the Watchtower they all agreed not to think too much about the whole Suspendium situation, it would only lead to a headache

They do like Captains friends tho, they seem nice and are good heroes

@puppetwoman17 @shazam-secret-santa

I hope you like it :D

[wchswift]

ଓ Home for the Holidays

Pairing: Logan Howlett x latina!fem!reader Summary: you're finally dating Logan, and this year for Christmas, your family, not very mutant-friendly, invites you and Logan to the holiday. Content: fluff, a lot of feelings, slightly angst, established relationship, complicated parents but they redeem themselves, not proofread, English isn’t my first language :) Word count: 5k (I got a little carried away) A/N: like I said christmas prompts are all my head has been coming up with lately lol. This one is totally self indulgent... I'm sorry (not really). I really think Logan would get along great with my latin family so this is what I wrote! Merry Christmas to you all!!! 🎄

mdni 𖤐 18+

The world outside was muffled in white. Snow blanketed the grounds of the X-Mansion, smoothing over the jagged chaos that typically defined the lives of its residents. But here, in this room, everything felt still, warm, and safe.

You blinked awake slowly, your cheek resting against the solid plane of Logan’s chest. His steady breathing was a low hum beneath your ear, and the arm he’d slung across your waist anchored you in place, as if he thought you might disappear if he let go.

For a while, you stayed like that, letting the lazy warmth seep into your bones. Mornings like these were rare. Most of your days started with some crisis or other, but the mansion had gone blessedly quiet for the holidays. Even the younger mutants seemed to understand the sanctity of this lull, their usual chatter and chaos replaced with soft laughter and the occasional sound of Christmas music echoing faintly through the halls.

Logan shifted beneath you, his muscles flexing under your cheek as he adjusted his grip. The calloused pads of his fingers traced absentminded circles on your back, a tender gesture you’d come to treasure.

“You’re quiet this morning,” he murmured, his voice rough with sleep. “Something on your mind?”

You smiled, too comfortable to move. “Just appreciating this.” You turned your head slightly, nuzzling against him. “Don’t ruin it by talking too much.”

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Fair enough.”

The quiet stretched out again, the two of you wrapped in the soft cocoon of blankets and each other. You let your thoughts wander, enjoying the rare chance to simply exist without the weight of responsibility pressing down on you.

And then your phone buzzed.

You groaned, burying your face against Logan as the sound shattered the tranquility. “No,” you mumbled. “Not yet.”

Logan reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the offending device without letting you go. “You gonna answer this, or am I tossing it out the window?” he asked, holding it just out of your reach.

You sat up reluctantly, frowning at the screen. The familiar number made your stomach twist, a mix of excitement and apprehension knotting your insides.

“It’s my family,” you said softly.

Logan’s eyebrows lifted slightly, but he didn’t say anything. He just handed you the phone, his steady gaze enough to ground you.

You hesitated, then swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“¡Mija!” Your mother’s voice filled the line, bright and cheerful as ever. “You sound tired. Are you resting enough? Eating well?”

You smiled despite yourself. “Hi, mamá. I’m fine, I promise.”

“Good. Listen, I have some news.” Her tone turned conspiratorial, and you could almost picture her leaning closer, as if you weren’t miles away. “We want you to come home for Christmas. Your papá and I were talking, and it’s been too long since we’ve all been together.”

Your chest tightened. It had been too long. Ever since your powers had manifested, there had been tension, distance. But in recent months, your family had made an effort to mend things, to accept you for who you were. And now, this invitation felt like another step forward.

“I’d love to,” you said after a moment, your voice softer now. “I really would.”

“Good, good. And—” She hesitated, then plowed ahead, her excitement spilling over. “Bring your boyfriend. Logan, right? We want to meet him.”

You froze, your gaze flicking to Logan, who was watching you with mild curiosity. Your mother’s words echoed in your head, and suddenly, the cozy warmth of the room felt stifling.

“Mija? Are you still there?”

“Yeah,” you managed, your throat dry. “I’m here.”

“Well, bring him. And don’t worry—he’s family now, too. We’ll take care of him.”

You swallowed hard, the weight of her words pressing down on you. After a few more pleasantries, you ended the call and set the phone down, your hands trembling slightly.

Logan tilted his head, his dark eyes narrowing. “What was that about?”

“My family,” you said, your voice quieter than you intended. “They want me home for Christmas. They want us home for Christmas.”

His eyebrows lifted again, but there was no hesitation in his response. “All right.”

“All right?” You stared at him, incredulous. “You’re okay with going?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He shrugged, his tone casual, but you could see the flicker of something deeper in his expression. “It’s your family. They’re important to you.”

You bit your lip, looking down at your hands. “I just… I don’t know how they’ll react. I mean, they’ve been better about accepting me, but this is different. And you…” You trailed off, struggling to find the words.

Logan reached for you, his hand warm and solid as it cupped your cheek. “Hey,” he said softly. “Stop overthinking it. If they’ve got a problem with me, that’s their issue, not yours. But if you want me there, I’m there.”

His certainty steadied you, and you leaned into his touch, releasing a shaky breath. “Of course I do! I do want you there. I just—”

“Don’t,” he interrupted gently. “Stop worrying. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

You nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips. “Okay. Together.”

Logan leaned back against the pillows, pulling you with him until you were curled up against his side again. The knot of anxiety in your chest loosened slightly, replaced by a tentative sense of hope for having Logan by your side.

Outside, the snow continued to fall, and for a little while longer, the two of you stayed wrapped in the quiet, preparing for the journey ahead.

When it was no longer possible to extend the moment with Logan, you got up and started your day. Since it was close to Christmas, the mansion was quieter and less crowded, giving you a chance to relax alone for a while.

The snow seemed endless, a quiet ocean blanketing the world outside. From the wide windows of the X-Mansion’s common area, it stretched out in every direction, softening the edges of the landscape until it looked like something out of a dream.

You sat on the arm of the couch, watching the scene unfold with the same stillness it seemed to demand. Logan was a shadow in the corner of the room, leaning casually against the doorframe. His presence was like gravity—solid, constant, something you could always feel even when you weren’t looking.

But now, his gaze was fixed on you, sharp and unwavering.

“You’ve been quiet all morning,” he said, breaking the silence. There was no accusation in his tone, only a quiet observation. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

You sighed, your breath fogging up the window for just a moment before it vanished. “It’s nothing.”

He let out a low hum, the kind that told you he didn’t believe a word of it. He crossed the room in a few steps, coming to stand beside you. His reflection joined yours in the glass, his dark eyes meeting yours in the faint, distorted version of the world.

“Try again,” he said, his voice softer now.

You looked down at your hands, fingers twisting in your lap. “It’s just… the idea of going home, after too long. And bringing you with me.”

His reflection didn’t waver. “You don’t want me to come?”

“No!” The word burst out of you too quickly, and you winced at the sharpness of it. “That’s not it. I already said, course I want you to come, Lo. It’s just—” You hesitated, your thoughts tripping over each other in their rush to the surface. “I don’t know how they’ll be. My family, I mean. They’ve gotten better about… about everything, but it’s still complicated. And you going too—”

You glanced at him, struggling to find the right words. “You’re not exactly… subtle, Logan. You literally have mutant written all over you. You’re like a storm—intense and impossible to ignore. And I love it so much, but my family, they’re…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

“They’re the kind of people who smile through awkward silences and sweep anything messy under the rug,” you finished weakly. “I just—I don’t know if they’ll know what to do with you. And I don’t want them to make you feel like you don’t belong. I don't want them to treat you differently.”

Logan was quiet for a long moment, his gaze still fixed on you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady, like the rumble of distant thunder.

“You think I care what they think?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but he held up a hand to stop you.

“They’re your family,” he said simply. “I’m not going for them. I’m going for you.”

There was something so unshakable about the way he said it, as if the answer was as obvious as the ground beneath his feet.

You let out a shaky laugh, your breath fogging up the glass again. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is,” he said, and the quiet conviction in his voice made your chest ache. “They don’t have to like me. Hell, they don’t even have to understand me. But if they love you, then they’ll respect the choices you’ve made. And if they don’t—” His reflection smiled faintly, a wry twist of his lips. “Well, they’ll have to deal with me.”

You shook your head, a reluctant smile tugging at your own lips. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah,” he said, his hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “But I’m yours. That’s all that matters.”

Something in your chest unfurled at his words, the knot of anxiety loosening just enough for you to take a deep breath. You leaned against him, your forehead resting against his shoulder. He smelled faintly of pine and smoke, like the forest itself had come to life and taken human form. It was so comforting.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“For what?” he asked in a low voice, his hand coming up to rest on the back of your neck.

“For being you.”

He huffed a soft laugh, and you felt his lips brush against your hair. “Don’t go getting all sentimental on me now, sweetheart.”

You laughed, the sound lighter now, like the snowflakes falling outside. For the first time all morning, the weight in your chest didn’t feel quite so heavy.

The road stretched ahead of you like an endless ribbon, winding through snow-draped trees and frozen lakes that glittered faintly in the pale winter sunlight. The hum of the car engine was the only sound for a while, a quiet rhythm that matched the pulse of your thoughts.

Logan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the center console where his fingers occasionally brushed against yours. It was a casual touch, almost absentminded, but it anchored you to him in a way words never could.

You watched his profile as he drove, the sharp lines of his face softened by the morning light. There was a quiet intensity about him, like a storm that seemed less threatening and more comforting. He was like a force of nature, capable of demolishing obstacles while also providing a protective haven —a force of nature that could tear down walls and shield you from the worst of the world all at once.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked without taking his eyes off the road.

You smiled faintly. “Are they worth that much?”

“Probably more,” he said, his lips twitching into the smallest of smirks. “But that’s all I’ve got on me.”

You laughed softly, the sound easing the tension in your chest. “I was just thinking about how far we’ve come. I mean, from where we started… to this.”

Logan glanced at you, his brow furrowing slightly. “This isn’t just ‘far.’ This is everything.”

His words were so simple, so unshakable, that they left you momentarily speechless. He had a way of doing that—cutting through your overthinking with a clarity that left no room for doubt.

You turned to look out the window, the snow-covered landscape blurring past. “You know, when my powers first showed up, I thought… I thought I’d never have this. A life. Someone like you.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, but you felt his hand move, his fingers intertwining with yours on the console. “Guess I’m lucky you were wrong.”

You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. When you looked at him again, his eyes were fixed on the road, but there was something unguarded about his expression—a glimpse of the man behind the claws and the growl.

“Logan…”

He shook his head slightly, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “Don’t go getting mushy on me now, sweetheart. We’ve got a long drive ahead.”

You snorted a laugh, leaning back in your seat. The warmth of his hand in yours stayed with you, a quiet reassurance that no matter what waited at the end of this journey, you wouldn’t face it alone.

By the time you pulled into the driveway, the sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. Your family’s house was just as you remembered—warm, inviting, and alive with the kind of chaos that only the holidays could bring.

Lights twinkled along the roofline, and the faint sound of music spilled out into the crisp evening air. As Logan helped you with the bags, the front door swung open, and a wave of noise and warmth hit you like a tidal wave.

“¡Cariño! ¡Por fin!” Your mother was the first to greet you, wrapping you in a hug so tight it stole your breath. “I’ve been waiting all day!”

“Mamá,” you managed, laughing as she fussed over you.

And then her attention shifted to Logan. Her eyes softened, though her tone remained brisk. “And this must be Logan.”

He nodded, his posture relaxed but his expression carefully neutral. “Ma’am.”

Your mother’s lips twitched, but she didn’t comment. Instead, she turned to usher you both inside, chattering about the food, the decorations, and how your father was already working on his second plate.

The rest of the family followed in quick succession, a whirlwind of introductions, hugs, and rapid-fire questions. Logan handled it all with a quiet patience that surprised even you, his gruff demeanor softening just enough to put them at ease.

Your younger cousin tugged at his sleeve, wide-eyed. “Are you really Wolverine? Like, claws and everything?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, glancing at you as if to ask, 'Should I?'

You shrugged, trying not to laugh. “Might as well get it over with.”

With a sigh, he extended one hand, the metallic claws sliding out with a faint snikt. Your cousin’s eyes widened further, her jaw dropping.

“Whoa…”

The rest of the family crowded around, their curiosity breaking any lingering tension. Logan didn’t say much, but the faint smirk on his face told you he didn’t mind the attention nearly as much as he pretended to.

As the evening wore on, the chaos began to settle. The smell of food and cinnamon filled the air, and the house hummed with laughter and music. Logan had drifted to a corner of the room, where your father showed him an old photo album.

You watched them from across the room, your heart swelling at the sight of Logan fitting into this world you’d been so afraid to share with him.

“Mija,” your mother said, pulling you aside. Her voice was softer now, her eyes warm. “He’s good for you. I can see it.”

You smiled, your chest tightening with emotion. “He is. More than I ever thought I deserved.”

She cupped your face, her hands warm and familiar. “Don’t ever think that. You deserve everything, and more. I wish I had told you that more often. I'm sorry, nena.”

For the first time in a long while, you believed her.

Dinner had barely ended when the music started, a lively rhythm spilling from the speakers and filling every corner of the house. Chairs were pushed back, plates cleared away, and the living room became an impromptu dance floor.

You watched from the edge of the room, laughing as your cousins dragged reluctant uncles and aunts into the fray. The Christmas lights blinked in time with the beat, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over the scene.

And then you felt a hand on your wrist.

“C’mon,” Logan said, his voice low and warm.

You stared at him, incredulous. “You? Dance?”

He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “I’ve been around long enough to pick up a thing or two. Don’t make me regret this.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you onto the floor. The music swelled, and for a moment, you forgot the chaos, the noise, everything but the warmth of his hand on yours and the steady strength of his other hand resting lightly on your waist.

He wasn’t perfect—his steps were a little stiff, and his timing faltered now and then—but his confidence made up for it. You couldn’t stop smiling, even as your family whooped and cheered around you.

“Not bad for a grumpy old man,” you teased, your voice just loud enough for him to hear over the music.

“Careful,” he warned, his smirk widening. “We are at your parents' house but if you keep this up, that won't stop me from punishing you." He whispered against your ear for only you to hear, his voice firm but with a hint of humor.

You laughed, the sound pure and unrestrained, and for the first time that night, the weight of your nerves began to lift.

Later, as the music faded into softer melodies and the crowd thinned out, you found yourself in the kitchen, refilling glasses and helping your mother plate desserts.

“That Logan,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “He’s different.”

You froze, unsure of where she was going with this. “Is that… bad?”

She shook her head, her hands deftly arranging cookies on a platter. “No. Just… surprising. He doesn’t talk much, but when he does, you can tell he means every word. And the way he looks at you…” She paused, her gaze softening. “You deserve that kind of love, cariño. The kind that doesn’t waver.”

Your throat tightened, and you turned back to the counter, suddenly very interested in the stack of plates waiting to be carried out. “Thanks, mamá.”

But before you could continue, the sound of approaching footsteps drew your attention. Your aunt appeared in the doorway, her ever-present smile firmly in place.

“There you are!” she said brightly, stepping into the kitchen as though she hadn’t just been eavesdropping. Her gaze flicked between you and your mother, curiosity gleaming in her eyes. “What are we talking about?”

“Logan,” your mother replied, her tone light but guarded.

“Ah,” your aunt said, her smile sharpening at the edges. “He’s… an interesting choice.”

You stiffened, the warmth from your mother’s words quickly fading. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing,” your aunt said breezily, but there was a calculated edge to her voice. She picked up a cookie, examining it as though it were the most fascinating thing in the room. “It’s just—well, a man like that doesn’t seem very… stable.”

Your mother frowned, "Paloma don't start…" she said with a warning tone, but even so, your aunt continued, her tone dripping with faux concern. “No, I just mean, he's a mutant! And with his background—and those claws… He seems a little aggressive too, It must be exhausting, keeping up with someone like him.”

The words hit like a slap, dredging up the old insecurities you’d worked so hard to bury. Your grip on the platter tightened as you struggled to steady your voice. “Don't you dare! You don't know anything about him. Logan is not aggressive, he is a good man, kind and caring.” you said evenly, refusing to rise to her bait.

“Of course, I’m sure he is,” your aunt said, her smile widening. “But he is still a mutant, don’t you think—”

"And my daughter is also a mutant, Paloma, so you better stop this, " your mother replied, her face completely serious now.

"I didn't mean to offend, I'm sorry," she said sarcastically. "But it's funny you should say that since you never were okay or wanted to deal with the fact that she was a mutant either."

Your breath caught your throat, chest tightening as you felt anger take over.

"You're right, I lost my relationship with my daughter just because I didn't understand her, and I was wrong. All I want most is to make up for it and change. So I won't accept any more of your prejudice, not with my daughter or with Logan." Your mother's voice was firm and steady, her posture confident and despite the moment I smiled to see the change in her. The way she defended you.

“Everything is fine? Anyone got something to say about me?”

Before your aunt could answer, the deep, gruff voice cut through the air like a blade, silencing the room. You turned to see Logan standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable but his presence commanding.

Your aunt faltered, her confidence wavering under the weight of his gaze. “I—no, of course not,” she stammered, her smile faltering as she fidgeted with the cookie in her hand.

Logan’s gaze didn’t waver, and his voice was calm but firm as he added, “Good. We wouldn't want to cause a scene on Christmas, right?”

Your aunt nodded, muttered something about needing to check on the drinks, and scurried out of the kitchen, leaving an awkward silence in her wake.

Logan crossed the room in a few strides, his hand finding yours. His thumb brushed lightly over your knuckles, grounding you. “You okay?” he asked softly. “Need a hand?” This time he looked at your mother, his gaze light and tone gentle.

Your mother stepped aside with a knowing smile. “She’s all yours.”

You smiled, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Yeah. I’m okay.”

Logan’s hand tightened around yours. “C’mon,” he said, his voice low and meant only for you. “Let’s get out of here for a minute.”

The night had settled into a comfortable lull by the time Logan led you outside. The snow had stopped falling, but the cold still bit at your cheeks and turned your breath into faint clouds in the air.

“Busy night,” he said, his tone dry but not unkind.

You laughed softly, the sound muted by the quiet of the world around you. “You handled it pretty well.”

He shrugged, his hands buried deep in his jacket pockets. “Your family’s all right. Loud, but all right.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “That’s high praise coming from you.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on the horizon. The silence stretched out, not uncomfortable, but heavy with unspoken thoughts.

Finally, he turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “You were scared about bringing me here,” he said, his voice a quiet rumble.

You let out a breath, watching it curl into the night air. “I didn’t want it to go wrong—for you, or for them. I thought maybe… maybe I was asking too much.”

Logan stepped closer, his presence like a shield against the cold. “You never ask too much from me,” he said firmly. “But you’ve got to stop carrying all this by yourself. You’re not alone in this anymore.”

His hand found yours, the roughness of his fingers a contrast to the gentleness of his touch. “You don’t need to protect me. And you sure as hell don’t need to protect them from me. That’s not how this works.”

Your throat tightened, his words cutting through the tangled mess of your insecurities. “I just… I don’t want to mess this up,” you admitted, your voice trembling.

He tipped your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours. “You won’t.” The certainty in his voice was unshakable, and it felt like he was holding more than just your gaze—it felt like he was holding you together.

"I can't lose you, Logan," you breathed, desperation lacing your words. "And sure as hell I wasn't going to lose you because of my family." As he leaned closer, the frigidness of the world outside seemed to fade, replaced by the warmth radiating from him. His forehead grazed yours, a gentle touch that sent a shiver of connection coursing through you.

His breath was warm, his voice a whisper that carried only for you. “Whatever happens, it’s you and me. That’s not changing.”

The words wrapped around your heart, soft and unyielding all at once. “I love you,” you whispered, the confession slipping out before you could stop it.

He smiled then, a rare, fleeting thing that lit his face like sunlight breaking through clouds. “I love you too,” he said, the rough edges of his voice softening with the weight of the truth.

And then he kissed you, slow and deliberate, like there was nothing in the world but this moment. His hands moved to your waist, grounding you, making you feel like everything would be okay.

Later that night, the house was quieting down. The children had been sent to bed, though the muffled sound of giggles hinted they weren’t asleep just yet. Most of the adults had retreated to the kitchen for coffee and one last helping of dessert. You sat with Logan on the couch, the glow of the Christmas tree casting soft shadows across the room.

The space felt smaller now, more intimate, as if the noise and chaos from earlier had wrapped itself around the house and left behind only warmth. Logan had his arm draped along the back of the couch, and you leaned against him, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up to you.

“Y’know,” he said, his voice low, “I’ve been around a long time. Seen a lot of families. Never really… been part of one.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, surprised by the confession. “Not even before—?”

He shook his head, cutting you off gently. “Never had anything like this. The noise, the mess, the way they’re all in each other’s business.” He chuckled softly. “It’s good. Feels like life.”

You reached for his hand, your fingers lacing with his. “They’ve accepted you, you know. You might not think it, but they have.”

He looked down at you, his brow furrowed. “How can you tell?”

You smiled. “Because they’re treating you exactly the same way they treat me—asking too many questions, teasing you, shoving food at you like it’s the answer to everything. That’s how they show love.”

Logan was quiet for a moment, his eyes glued to your intertwined fingers. When he finally spoke, his voice was softer than you’d ever heard it. “It’s nice. It’s… good to feel that. To feel like I’ve got a place.”

You pressed a kiss to his shoulder, your heart swelling at the vulnerability he rarely let show. “You do. With them, and with me.”

The sun was barely rising when you woke the next morning, the soft glow of dawn spilling into the room. Logan was still asleep beside you, his breathing slow and even, one arm draped possessively over your waist. For a moment, you just watched him, marveling at the way the years seemed to fall away when he was at peace.

The sound of children’s laughter broke the stillness, followed by the creak of floorboards and the distant rustle of wrapping paper. Logan stirred, his eyes blinking open as he looked at you.

“Mornin’,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly with sleep.

“Merry Christmas,” you whispered, leaning down to brush a kiss against his lips.

He smiled against your mouth, his hand moving to the small of your back to pull you closer. “Merry Christmas, sweetheart.”

The two of you made your way downstairs, where the living room had transformed into a chaotic wonderland of presents and decorations. The children were tearing into their gifts with wild abandon, while the adults watched with coffee cups in hand and fond smiles on their faces.

“¡Mija! ¡Logan! Ven acá!” Your father waved you over, a brightly wrapped package in his hands.

You sat on the floor beside Logan as your father handed you the gift. “This is for you two,” he said, his voice warm.

Inside was a framed photo of the family taken the night before, everyone crowded together under the Christmas lights. In the corner, Logan stood beside you, his expression reserved but his hand resting on your shoulder.

“We wanted you to have something to remember this Christmas by,” your father said. “So you’ll always know that you have a place here. Both of you.”

You glanced at Logan, your throat tight with emotion. He met your gaze, his arm coming to rest on your shoulders, gently pulling you against him as he gave you the smallest of nods.

By the time the car was packed and the goodbyes were said, the sun was high in the sky, casting long shadows across the snow. Your family stood on the porch, waving as Logan started the engine and pulled out of the driveway.

The road stretched out ahead of you, the silence in the car a comfortable contrast to the noise of the past two days. You leaned back in your seat, watching the snow-covered trees blur past.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you said, glancing over at Logan.

He huffed a quiet laugh, his hands steady on the wheel. “Could’ve been worse. Your tío Pablo was about two shots of tequila away from a fight, though.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “He’s always like that. But he liked you, you know. They all did.”

Logan didn’t respond right away, but the faint curve of his lips told you everything you needed to know.

As the miles stretched on, you found yourself reaching for his hand, your fingers lacing together over the console. He gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his thumb brushing lightly over your skin.

“You’re happy,” he said after a while.

You smiled, resting your head against the seat. “I am.”

He glanced at you, his expression soft. “Good. You deserve that.”

And as the car continued down the snow-dusted road, you realized that you finally felt completely at peace.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[sillyuin]

Late night date with hhu

Genre: fluff.

Pairing: hhu x reader.

Warnings: Mingyu gets a little mad?? idk

Yuin's note: Part (1/2). This is my carat secret santa gift for @hearts4hansol. Hope you like it, merry Christmas and happy holidays sweetie! 🦭❤️

Seungcheol: Going outside for a drive.

After a long day of responsibilities all you want to do is sleep in your cozy blankets, but Seungcheol has better plans so he calls you in the middle of the night saying he’s coming to your home. Going out with your bf wasn’t in your plans, but it’s not a bad idea at all: There’s nothing like being passenger princess and spending some quality time with your favorite person in the world.

What is more important, sleeping or having the chance to see Seungcheol after a tiring week where your schedules could never meet? One single call was enough as you jumped into his car, and went through the city streets for a ride.

Your head tilted slightly to one side, and your eyes would squint every now and then, until you shook your head to wake yourself up and let out a big yawn that you covered with both hands.

“Do you want a coffee to shake off the sleep?” Cheol asked with a playful tone.

You raised an eyebrow, looking at him with a grimace, his eyes were fixed on the road. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to have coffee after eleven at night.”

“True, but I know a place that serves the best hot cocoa in town.”

“Sounds good, but… Where are we going?”.

Seungcheol parked in a square, the view was simply beautiful and captured all your attention. The lights conveyed an inexplicable sense of tranquility, the decorated and sparsely trafficked streets were calm and beautiful.

You felt as if your worries and responsibilities were fading away; only the here and now mattered. You sighed in relief, and when you turned to look at the driver’s seat, the first thing your eyes saw was a mug with a hot drink that emitted a very tempting aroma.

“Is this for me?” you asked curiously, your cheeks flushing lightly as you accepted it.

Cheol smiled, his dimples showing up. “As I said, I’ll take you to the place that serves the best hot cocoa.”

“Did you really drive through the city at night and do all this, just for me?” your voice sounded almost like a whisper, a bit embarrassed but with a very noticeable hint of happiness.

“Who else would I do it for?” Seungcheol asked rhetorically as he poured himself a cup as well. “I still have more in the thermos, if you’d like.”

“Do you know what would be good right now?” you took a sip of your drink and looked at him with mischievous eyes.

He returned the same look, and without saying anything more, he stretched out his hand and brought over a bag that was on the back seat, right behind you. “Did you think I would forget the butter cookies?”

You both laughed as one, clinking your cups to cheer and spent some quality time there, enjoying a pleasant moment filled with laughter and anecdotes. Then Seungcheol gave you a little tour to appreciate the beautiful Christmas decorations on the city streets.

Tomorrow would be another day where you could go to bed early.

Wonwoo: Going for a walk and taking pictures.

Passionate about filming, photography and also you. He’s always willing to spend moments together and keep evidence of those happy memories. So don’t be surprised if he calls you close midnight time just to hang out, talking about your stuff and taking pictures with the precious Christmas decoration in downtown.

After a long day filled with work and stress, the last thing you wanted was to put on a complicated outfit and do your makeup to go out. When Wonwoo called past ten to come pick you up, you felt tempted to refuse and tell him to just stay at your apartment, but he insisted so enough to make you accept his offer.

You walked together through the city streets, admiring the beautiful decorations on the lampposts and in the shop windows; during the festive season, everything changed completely, feeling more cheerful and pretty. Your gaze wandered when Wonwoo touched one of your cheeks to get your attention.

“Enjoying the walk?” he asked while intertwining his hand with yours and smiled.

You nodded slowly. “I’m sorry if I seem distracted,” and you immediately yawned, covering your mouth with your free hand. “Today was one of those days.”

“I can tell,” Wonwoo chuckled as you looked at him with a furrowed brow, then he cleared his throat. “Thanks for coming, I really wanted to see you.”

You paused for a moment to lean in and give him a kiss on the cheek; the night was perfect and you thought nothing could go wrong. But then again, Wonwoo poked your cheeks again with one of his fingers.

“Can you go over there?” he asked while pointing to a small tree by the street, which had been adorned with minimalist details. “I’d like to take some pictures of you.”

“Wonu, I'm not exactly looking my best,” you joked, pointing to your outfit; you were wearing loose clothes perfect for the cold, but not for a photo session.

“What are you talking about? You look beautiful,” Wonwoo gently pinched one of your cheeks, convincing you with his adorable smile. “Now go on, I'll just take a few photos.”

You felt a little shy and posed awkwardly, but Wonwoo had a new collection of photos on his phone from another beautiful night with you, and that was more important than getting the perfect shot.

Sometimes the best photos are taken with just simple clothes, a little of makeup, and the person you love behind the lens.

Mingyu: Baking sweets.

He’s not that good at baking and neither you are, but that’s not important as long as you are doing this together. It might turn out good or bad, but there’s one thing clear: baking a fruit cake at late-night hours never was so fun (and messy).

“I think we have everything,” Mingyu said, checking the recipe on his phone, then he glanced at the kitchen counter where all the ingredients were. “We have eggs, flour, sugar… What are you doing!?”

You shrugged when you heard his voice rising above the normal. You raised your gaze to meet his and immediately dropped what you had in your hands, almost throwing it onto the counter.

“I bought you chocolates yesterday; why do you have to eat the ones that are for the cake?” Mingyu complained.

“There was no need to raise your voice,” you defended yourself quietly, crossing your arms.

Mingyu sighed deeply, standing in front of you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn't have done that to you” He patted your hair and gave you a warm smile, that gesture was enough for you to soften your expression. “Shall we start baking?”

Nodding enthusiastically, you rolled up the sleeves of your sweater, just above the elbows. “What’s the first thing we need to do?”

“I was making sure we had everything ready,” he looked back at his phone. “Did you buy the raisins like I told you?”

“I was supposed to buy… raisins?” you asked with a distracted look.

Mingyu watched you from the corner of his eye, lowkey irritated, and after realizing you were playing dumb, he overlooked as he made sure that no other ingredients were missing.

“Okay, it’s all here,” Mingyu smiled to himself. “Just tell me what the recipe says, and pass me the ingredients.”

The night went as you both worked together. Mingyu did the heavier tasks while you diligently dictated the instructions just as they were written; a slightly tense atmosphere developed, but it was also filled with jokes, laughters and the promise of a delicious fruitcake that you would share the next day, during Christmas dinner.

Once everything was ready and the cake was in the oven, that’s when you both realized the great mess the kitchen was in. There was flour scattered on the counter and on both of your clothes, leftover ingredients were thrown in a corner, and a tower of dirty dishes on the counter.

“I’m tired, shall we clean up when the cake is ready?” you suggested, scratching your head.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” Mingyu said as he moved towards the sink. “Take a shower, I’ll go once you’re done.”

Without thinking twice, you thanked him and disappeared from the kitchen right to your room. After a while, the cake was ready, and everything was clean and picked up. Mingyu was surprised that you hadn’t appeared during all that time, so he went to check the bathroom, thinking something may happened.

He gently knocked on your bedroom door, and when you didn’t respond, he entered to find you lying on the bed in your pajamas, phone in hand, and deeply immersed in sleep. He chuckled softly and approached to cover you with the blankets, gazing at you tenderly.

“Merry first Christmas, my love” he caressed your cheek and placed a tender goodnight kiss on your forehead, before glancing at you once again.

Vernon: Watching bad movies for the laughs.

For someone who loves watching movies, Vernon has a long list of movies he has watched. He usually watches with you the ones he loves, but one night Vernon comes to home with snacks, drinks and a some of the worst Christmas movies he has watched. This is going to be a trip full of cringe but also filled with memories you both will remember for a long time.

You had to pause to catch your breath and avoid choking on the snacks. Vernon moved a little closer to you and made sure you were okay, though he himself couldn’t contain his frantic laughter.

“Are you okay?” his hand gently stroked your back.

“Yeah, I think so,” you took a deep breath while wiping the tears from the corners of your eyes. “I didn't know such horrible movies existed.”

“I told you it was the worst movie I've ever seen,” Vernon admitted between laughs. “I couldn’t keep it all to myself!”

You gave him a sideways glance with a more serious expression as if you were going to scold him, but then you burst out laughing again and he followed your lead. After a few minutes of unending laughter, you took a breath.

“We should probably stop,” you leaned over to the table to take a sip from the glass of soda you had poured for yourself. “It’s three in the morning.”

“Yes, and?” Vernon raised an eyebrow, challenging you. “It’s Christmas eve.”

“Yeah, but it’s the third movie we’ve watched today,” you replied between yawns. “I’d like to sleep.”

But he wasn’t willing to back down. “Come on, I promise it’ll be the last one.”

Vernon looked at you with his tender eyes and a pouty face, gently pinching one of your cheeks. You were really having a good time and didn’t want the night to end at any cost, but on the other hand, you were an early bird, being awake to such late hours was really difficult.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you snuggled up to him, hugging his arm against your chest.

“This one and then we go to sleep, okay?” you asked in a very soft voice. “Now, hit play.”

“Sure, honey,” he said, kissing the top of your head, letting the movie continue on the TV.

As the movie went on, you felt your eyes closing every so often, with Vernon’s laughter being the only thing that could wake you for a few moments. However, when the credits rolled, the only sound was your soft snoring.

Vernon gently touched your nose to wake you. “Wake up, sweetie. It’s daytime.”

“What? How?” You quickly lifted your head and blinked several times before realizing that you were still in the living room of your apartment. You looked at Vernon with a frown and patted his arm. “C��mon, don’t be so mean!”

You immediately fell back asleep on his lap, resting your head on the pillow that was laying across his thighs.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep here,” he whispered sweetly, “let’s go to the bedroom.”

“It’s fine, I’m comfortable,” you replied in sleepy voice, barely audible. “Good night.”

Vernon giggled and just let you be, he was tired as well. Taking the pillow that was beside him, he placed it behind his head and rested his hand on your shoulder, slowly stroking you with his thumb. He looked at you one last time, a lovestruck smile barely appearing on his face.

“Thanks for joining me” he whispered, closing his eyes. “Good night for you too, honey”.

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 9 part 2

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2])

I'm glad nicky came up with a cool new tune because according to period movies and shows greensleeves is the only song anyone ever knew

look at that meek little smile, ughhhh. nicky is like two days old and this asshole has already figured out he's the perfect prop for her murder sprees. and these poor women are calling her sister and are willing to help too.

the spell is te accipimus in circulum, we accept you in the circle, and yes that makes me cry a little. we accept you in our community. and the spell is yellow air magic, which sounds like the most empathic kind if Lilia is any indication.

that's interesting, you can't really tell that well from screencaps but go rewatch the scene, this witch is making mushrooms grow with yellow magic instead of green?? is it just a spell (she is holding a book) or have I been getting it all wrong and color has nothing to do with the type of magic one has?

or maybe??? the color depends on the coven you're in?? the salemites all had blue magic for example. and now that I think about it the stone circle is a protection spell but it's not red/orange.

the meaning of this scene is so glaring dear lord. agatha was never going to give these women a chance to prove that yes, there are people out there who could love and help and accept her. she has shut herself up to that possibility a long time ago.

and she stole the soup too. awful.

I've seen all the different theories about nicky needing to feed on witches too, or nicky needing soul sacrifices to survive because he's the son of death etc. we don't have enough evidence to prove anything yet, but personally I headcanon nicky as a totally normal kid, that makes this story even more tragic.

and aww that baby suckling on the little pudgy fist

nicky doesn't look that happy about what he's been asked to do, does he?

we establish that nicky was sickly (maybe he was born with some internal defect that rio temporarily patched up?) we also see him steal the bell agatha will use for her Road scam in the future.

and we meet yet another witch being kind and wanting to help.

agatha: I love this six year old so much I'm gonna make him accessory to murder

dO yOU ShaME YouR MOtHER

and the big fake gasp too. as usual this bitch has conned a whole community

like, she's convinced herself that other witches are bad and are after her WHILE relying on witches's good hearts to con and kill them. what sort of mental gymnastics???

color goes from yellow to purple. nicky waits outside while his mom commits murder, it's not a good look on agatha. completely fucked up, actually.

(I'm terrified that the goat will end up being an agent of mephisto or something idiotic like that, lemme tell you. I hope they're just keeping it for milk and company.)

and here's the million dollar question. nicky has seen his mom kill literally since he was born, and now he's old enough to start realizing what that means.

oooh I know that look, that's agatha when she's put on the spot. she avoids his gaze, she can't be sincere with him.

and of course she's teaching herself spells from a book. nerrrrrrd

nicky, bless his soul, appears to give it a good thought and then offers a practical suggestion. I guess he wouldn't mind to have a roof on his head and some friends too.

GREAT acting from kathryn here. the quick OH SHIT face followed by the super final NO, with her jaw so rigid. in typical agatha fashion, when she's upset she becomes avoidant.

this is evanora's legacy. despite agatha's immense love for nicky, she is passing all that pain down and inflicting it on him.

remember when she called billy a survivor? this is the greatest asset in her opinion, the one she wants to teach her son. the truth is, she is angry at witches because she is scared of them, she's scared of being targeted again. but look at that kid's dark circles, I can't believe she's making him sleep in the woods, sick as he is!

really really fantastic subtlety. agatha wants to sound wise and strong, but she looks scared, uncertain, guilty.

see how nicky looks at agatha while he sings? he's checking to see if she's noticing, because his mom likes music and likes his voice. he's afraid he has upset her and wants to make her smile. he tried to reason with her, and now he tries to soothe her. this is what happens when you have an immature parent, a child will want to help, they will try to fix things. they'll end up parenting their parent, and it should always be the other way round.

agatha takes the bait. she's relieved that the conversation has moved to a safer subject. but oh, this script is so good. this is a mostly innocent, mostly sweet remark, but with a possessive undertone. don't forget that you are mine, she says.

and still, the love is real. even in a fucked up situation like this, these moment of happiness are precious and genuine and will linger on. look at how adoringly nicky looks at his mom, she's literally the sun and center of his small world, and that's how agatha likes it: she created nicky because she needed someone who could be hers without any baggage or consequences. but it turns out that raising a child is not a cheat code for love, it's one of the most difficult, most significant and impactful decisions a human can make.

[mapoeggplant]

skip to loafer chapter 66 analysis // spoilers

the school trip is over, but the changes are not yet: chapter 66 is full of cute moments that remind us how skip to loafer likes to treat its characters with great affection, leading them to a much brighter and gentle future.

i really love chapters like this one, where we have the famous “conversation between the girls vs conversation between the boys”. it’s very clear to me how sensei has fun using a lot of the adolescence and innocence of her characters to explore such cute and fun moments like this one, and i'm very grateful for that.

i think there is nothing better than starting the discussion by focusing on the girls! it is so good to see the four of them so comfortable with each other. this moment of them all together sharing a bed reminded me a lot of when they all went to mitsumi's hometown and gossiped all night. it is cute moments like these that we will remember forever as we grow up and lose the freedom we had when we were young, so i am very happy that they have the opportunity to experience something that they will carry inside their hearts for as long as they live. 

i also really like seeing how mitsumi is gradually opening up and becoming more and more adventurous. i never would have imagined that such a responsible and rule-following girl would agree to meet her friends even after curfew. of course, it wouldn't be such a peaceful moment without the stress of finding one of the teachers on patrol, but the fact that mitsumi got carried away and ran away with the girls already shows how she has been letting herself be carried away by the lightness of life.

it's beautiful to see how they understand each other so well and are always willing to face anything together — and “together” has to be the highlighted word for this episode. just like makoto said, whether it's running through the hallways or getting scolded, what matters is that they are facing everything side by side, without leaving anyone behind.

meanwhile, in another room, shima is cornered by his friends, especially mukai, who knows exactly everything that has happened for some time now. seeing shima getting involved with mitsumi again awakens in him a concern that is both new and old: old because he has already had a similar conversation with shima and knows about all of his doubts and complex feelings; new because, for him, it is as if shima is once again getting involved in something selfishly and without thinking much about the consequences. what he did not expect is that shima has changed much more than he himself imagined.

it is very good and gratifying to see how shima has been changing so much in this last arc. he has been increasingly true to himself and increasingly builds a desire to change his own relationship with his past. in my opinion, i believe that he is not only looking for a way to forgive everything that happened to him and finally accept that he does not have to carry as much guilt as he believes, but that he also sees a new life in his future without having to be completely tied to what happened in his past. he no longer wants to hide everything that happened and wear a mask, but rather forgive what happened for the sake of a future where he can be the one he seeks to be. 

and this is also reflected in the way he treats two people around him: mitsumi and his mother.

in the previous chapter, we had the chance to understand a little more about how shima understands his relationship with mitsumi and how he believes she sees/understands him. of course, there is still a very foggy barrier that makes it very difficult for him to truly understand and see everything with greater clarity, but little by little, i believe that the kindness that mitsumi sees in him will begin to be much stronger than the contempt he feels for himself, giving him the opportunity to take care of himself with more affection.

or rather: not only to himself, but also to everyone around him. and i believe that this has been happening little by little, since i see a lot of potential and growth in his plea to mukai, so that his friend will once again trust him and believe his words when he says that, from now on, he will no longer face his relationship with mitsumi with so much hesitation or fear.

now, the grand finale of this chapter, for me, involves the second person i mentioned earlier: shima finally manages to face his mother, but not in the way we readers expected. i always saw many people (myself included) expecting shima to face his mother in a much more firm and direct way, using the same aggressiveness and defensiveness that he used every time he talked to her before. i really believed that he would question everything she made him go through and would place much of the blame on her, but of course acting like that would make no sense after so many changes that shima has faced in the last few chapters.

inviting his mother to the next school festival not only shows that he is ready to start a new phase of his life with her, but it is also a way of showing her that he is much more willing to understand all of her reasons instead of questioning them aggressively. he no longer wants to keep their terrible relationship alive or point fingers, but rather to start something new and without so much pain, just like he did when he finally returned to the theater and found his passion again.

i believe that, from now on, there is a huge chance for shima's relationship with his family to improve and grow in a more positive way. i think that, in the future, we will finally have a chapter focused on his mother, where she opens her heart more to this son that she hurt so much, having a redemption arc for the sake of a healthier relationship with shima. i also think that we are close to seeing shima being even more open with little keiri, which fills my heart with joy.

and well, to finish, i think that all this change that we saw in volume 11, this hopeful beginning for volume 12 and the back cover of volume 11 being composed by chris and ririka, shows that these two will be the next people to have a greater focus, bringing even more light to shima's past and much more clarity so that he can walk towards a brighter future. this is all a guess, of course, but it would be perfect for me, since i love both of them and can’t wait to dissect them a little bit more. 

well, i do believe i will talk more about chapter 66 before the release of chapter 67, but for now, that's all i have to say!!! thank you so much for reading and for having the patience with me, it means a lot 💛 don't forget to buy vol 11 and chapter 66 on comic days!!!!!

[m00ngbin]

I'm trying to pick a major that I would be the most interested in just because it would make my life so much easier and right now I have like three ideas and they all have a million problems

[bakudekublogblog]

kacchan really is so funny for being like BUT WHAT ABOUT BAKUDEKU CANON when he finds out izuku is quirkless

[worstloki]

My issue with Thor not ‘realizing’ why Loki was acting off in Avengers 1 isn’t that Thor didn’t recognise Loki was acting unlike himself—Thor did note that—or that Thor didn’t figure out what was wrong—he did try asking—it’s more along the lines of Thor giving up, and that he accepted Loki was bad now within two days while knowing something was off when Thor himself behaved just as bad for much longer before without any specific compromising event.

[infizero]

shut UPPPPPPPPPPP someone just put the clip of tiny manticore telling betty "maybe you're going after someone who doesn't exist anymore" with simon trying to bring back betty back ohhhh i feel sick

[tvrningout-a]

you ever find a song that you can so perfectly imagine your character's happy ending to??? bc i found kaiya's and i'm not okaY

[thebigqueer]

its so funny to me that she was like 'you deserve better' because little does she even know she genuilnely was best. like no one is ever going to top her. and i know with my full heart that she will find better than me and im supposed to want that for her but i really really dont. cuz i know theres so much better than me but theres no one better than her

[sandyspaghettibag]

i need an absolute beefcake muscle-gut dad bod of an adult man to accompany me wherever i go like a bodyguard, except we gossip and giggle and have the biggest "he's my bestie" relationship to where everybody speculates on whether or not we fuck behind closed doors (ofc we do) that is the type of support i need, just to be enabled by one single person out in public in whatever i do, just to prove to everybody that i actually do have one really really good friend who loves me and will absolutely always be on my side.

[cheeseanonioncrisps]

It's a weird fucking feeling realising that you actually have to plan ahead for and schedule in the things you like to do, as well as the things you have to do.

I don't mean the complicated stuff, that's a given.

If I'm going to the cinema, then I accept I'm going to have to look up film times and buy tickets and figure out when I'm going to leave the house. If I'm going to visit a friend who lives in a different county, then I accept that I'm going to probably be looking up travel times and planning activities and where to eat and what time we'll be doing what, for possibly days beforehand.

But its even the fucking lowkey stuff. If I want to watch a tv show, I have to plan time out of my day to do it, and I don't always get round to it. If I have a whole day free for some reason, and I decide I want to watch a film (at home, on the sofa) and I don't lay out a plan for when I'm going to do that and how long I'm going to take, then it just won't happen.

If I want to go for a walk just around my local area before it gets dark, or eat something with a slightly longer cooking time, or write my diary, or read a book I've been looking forward to reading, or even read fucking fanfiction that is longer than about 8000 words, then I have to set some sort of plan beforehand.

Like, I know intellectually that executive dysfunction affects more than just the things you don't enjoy doing. But fuck it doesn't really hit you until you realise that you haven't sat down to watch an episode of that show you like for over a week, even though you can't really name any activities you've been doing or commitments you have that would make it impossible to do so.

Anyway, this is a reminder to people who struggle with that sort of thing: schedule your days off, lest they be swallowed by the Pit before you get the chance to do anything fun with them.

[crackshipguardian]

Second reblog bc actually I have more thoughts

If you can't remember (cuz I've only drawn him once) my Au!Walter has a WereWolf (WereHound?) curse and he hides from everyone every full moon

To bad he can't find the words to tell little Woodie about their shared curse. Not without a way to break it

[rafesangelita]

sheep!reader going to a party w rafe? 🤍

warnings: icky!s1!rafe, heavy teasing, drug use, kelce and topper are kinda gross, public groping, smoking, peer pressure (?), sheep is slightly embarrassed but too shy to say anything, a little bit of rough handling, suggestive language, rafe saying he’ll ‘share’ sheep..

a/n: season one rafe has me by my neck rn..

“well, look who we have here!” topper lifted his head from the white line he was about to snort off of the coffee table before scooting over, making room on the sofa for you and rafe to squeeze between him and kelce. rafe was all smiles when he pulled you onto his lap, your cheeks heating as you felt your dress ride up your thighs. “i didn’t think we’d ever see you at a party..” topper leaned in, the close proximity making a shiver run down your spine. truth be told, you didn’t think you’d ever be seen at a party either, but here you were, your boyfriend’s fingers slipping under your dress while two of his best friends watched you with lustful eyes.

it had taken a good portion of the evening for rafe to convince you to come out with him, your heart hammering in your chest the whole ride over here. not knowing what to say, you hid your face in rafe’s chest, all three of them laughing at your shy demeanor. “aww, come on, let us see that pretty face.” you stayed hidden, rafe’s large palm kneading your flesh as he reached for the bong on the table. “kelce, ‘you light me up?” you heard the flicker of a lighter, peeking up from rafe’s shirt as he inhaled from the glass structure, the sound of bubbles filling up your ears.

rafe took a long drag, holding the smoke in for a few moments before blowing all of it in your face, making you gasp softly before you started coughing. your eyes watered, the two boys on either side of you dabbing each other up as they found amusement in your obvious discomfort. “rafe..” you whispered, a pout adorning your lips while he pressed a kiss to the sensitive spot on your neck. you couldn’t help the small whimper from leaving your lips, the sound drawing both topper and kelce’s attention. “damn, rafe, when are you gonna let us get in on this?” kelce placed a hand on your knee, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin.

“forreal, this shy little thing is just so cute.” topper added, his hand finding the small of your back. rafe could tell by the nervous look on your face that you weren’t sure how to react, his facial expression turning into one of amusement. “tell you what..” he stroked the side of your face, “give me a bump and we can share.” seeing the way your eyes widened was almost comical, topper wasting no time in scooping some of the blow onto his finger tip. “give this to him, sweetheart.” instinctively, you accepted his digit, letting him lay the blow on the back of your hand.

holding your hand up to rafe’s nose, he covered one of his nostrils, snorting the powder until only a little bit of residue was left. “lick it.” rafe gripped the back of your neck, him and his friends staring at you intently. “yeah, do it, baby.” “you’ll feel so good..” you swallowed thickly, your eyebrows drawing together as they watched your tongue lick a small stripe up your skin. apart of you was scared of the after effects of this stuff, but still, you obeyed. rafe was smiling ear to ear, his corruption kink going off the charts right now. “what the fuck!” topper laughed, both him and kelce sitting in disbelief.

“she really fucking did it?!” kelce moved closer, your boyfriend roughly grabbing your cheeks as he shook your head around. “of course she did,” he cupped you through your panties, “she’ll do whatever i tell her to.. right, ‘pretty?” you nodded, gripping rafe’s forearm as topper moved your hair to one side of your frame. “come on, man, just a taste.” rafe pulled you into a kiss, his palm coming up to cup your tits over the lacey material of your dress. despite his earlier words, rafe was far too greedy to share you with anyone. “not a fucking chance, thornton.”