#this is a very gratuitous and indulgent post

[thegirlwiththelilactattoo]

no. 2, or some of my favorite things of 2022

Uh oh, did I say I was gonna blog weekly and now it's been 4 months? My bad!

In the time since I last posted I: started writing my diss/was told to stop writing my diss to do data analysis, completed fieldwork, added another member to my committee, and got accepted to two conferences. This is sweeping over a lot of things that sucked a lot and I'll need to talk about in therapy for the next 5 or so years, but that's grad school, babes. All in all it's been an incredibly stressful semester. I am really looking forward to having a restful break in December focusing on writing a chapter in December!

I also decided to turn this into a catch all blog for My Thoughts outside of academic things! And since it's the end of the year, I'm doing a lil favorite things of 2022.

Various Academic Things

Data analysis: I looked at other qualitative data softwares and chose to use ATLAS.ti for my dissertation. I am a...let's just say neurodivergent person and ATLAS.ti was the most aesthetically pleasing and intuitive software for me. It has a ton of features and data analysis capabilities, most of which I've barely used, but the ones I've tried have been useful.

Writing: I'm basic. I use Scrivener. It confuses me. I don't know if I recommend it.

Scheduling: I highly recommend Calendly. I should have used it from the jump to schedule dissertation interviews instead of going back and forth over email with my interlocutors. Now that I'm done with interviews, I use Calendly for students to schedule office hours appts. I like the Zoom and calendar integration, so once the link is sent, it's very hands off on my end.

Coworking: Re: the whole neurodivergence thing, coworking has been a real boon for me. My friend and I have a standing cowork session on Friday and it's been a great time for us to catch up and suffer through school stuff together. We keep each other accountable during our lil pomodoros and I miraculously get work done.

Going to the Writing Center??? I recently started going to my school's writing center for feedback on my applications and it's been so helpful.

Music

Beyoncé Gisele Knowles has run my life this year. "Renaissance" is the best album of 2022. I've also been running up "Currents" by Tame Impala for the entirety of this year and I don't see that changing in 2023.

Honorable Mentions: "Running Away" by VANO3000, "Them Changes" by Thundercat, "Eastside" by DAISY (RIP to such a good band)

Playlists I've Been Loving: roslyn rainy day kinda vibe, sad girl starter pack

Shows/Movies

Depression has sort of ruined my ability to consume visual media. And for the better part of the last decade, I have enjoyed and perhaps made it "a personality" to watch bad movies. I noticed this year that I became afraid (in a sense) to let myself watch movies that were good. It's a weird thing. My goal for next year is to get comfortable watching things that are good. I want to watch movies that make me feel something instead of solely engaging with a film because it's awful. That just doesn't speak to me anymore as a fulfilling way of being in the world.

At any rate, the most impactful movie I saw this year was Everything Everywhere All At Once. I saw this movie four times in the theatre and each time I got something new from it. It made me cry and laugh and feel like I could try to hope in a life that often feels meaningless.

Honorable Mentions: Bram Stokers Dracula dir. Francis Ford Coppola, The Batman dir. Matt Reeves, The Menu dir. Mark Mylod

Recipes

I have been LOVING this Kale Walnut Salad from frommybowl. It's super easy to make, refreshing, and is perfect to take advantage of really good apples.

Honorable Mentions: I've gotten rave reviews on this pumpkin bread.

Beauty/Aesthetics

This past year, I have finally mastered the wash and go. I used to be a twists girlie, but wash and gos last longer and look better on my hair. I think my hair is also the healthiest it's ever been. It's hard to pick a single product that I've loved the most for my hair, but the duo supreme is: Uncle Funky's Daughter Curly Magic and Innersense I Create Hold for a perfect wash and go every time.

Honorable Mentions: Sol de Janeiro Brazilian Crush Cheirosa 71 Perfume Mist, elf Brow Lift, ILIA The Necessary Eyeshadow Palette in Warm Nude

I think that's everything???? Sadly, I have read nary a book for leisure, but that's something for future me to ruminate on. I hope this was moderately interesting and I will try!!! to not take 4 months to post another thing :)

[coweye]

Just Logan

The worst Logan part ii

Logan Howlett x Reader!Loganverse| smut | 10k words

Summary: You return from the void ready to navigate your new reality with the not-quite-love-of-your life. Second Part to worst Logan.

Warning: Mentions of drugs, Canon Typical Violence, gratuitous Laura paternal love. smut, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, assplay mentioned.

AN: Fair warning my loves - this hasn’t been proof read… unless you’re reading this after the 26th August! I’m currently posting this on my phone at an airport 💖 I love you all so much and can’t express how much your love for my stories has meant to me!

Achilles once said “I would recognize you in total darkness, were you mute and I deaf. I would recognize you in another lifetime entirely, in different bodies, different times. and I would love you in all of this, until the very last star in the sky burnt out into oblivion."

For seven excruciating years you’d been without him. 

Eventually, time had dulled the ache, made it so you forgot what it was to have another hold you through the night, to make you feel safe and loved. Love was like a drug; one you had unknowingly spent the past half a decade weaning yourself from.

Then he appeared; ‘The worst Logan’ as Wade had not-so-affectionately dubbed him, and in one fell swoop undid years of hard work. He came and reminded you just how fucking good drugs were - that motherfucker was class-A narcotics and he was addictive as hell.

By mid morning you were already desperate for another hit, your eyes searching for him around every corner.  Part of you was afraid you had gotten him all wrong, that perhaps you didn’t know this man as well as you thought you did. Though at the last second Logan had shown up, unfolding him from the boot of the Honda and joining the fray, every inch the hero he insisted he wasn’t. 

You and Laura sliced a path through your enemies, side by side, the two of you moved in perfect synchronisation. In the years since his death, she had taken Logan’s position in your formation, and now the two of you fought together as naturally as breathing. 

Logan couldn’t help but watch the two of you together for a moment, though after a knife to the ribs as reward for his lack of awareness, he shakes his head free from the indulgence of his ready-made-family and returns to the task at hand, carving his way through the enemy to get to Cassandra. 

 It had been a hard-won battle, though Laura had been extraordinary. You, yourself had been outmatched with the Juggernaut, only in a position to bend the light keeping yourself from sight as you inflicted shallow cuts with your blades along his arms and torso creating confusion and pain that allowed Laura to find her openings.

Your girl sliced through his Achilles bringing him to his knees before she ended his life with four claws through his chest. 

In your eyes, as she stared down Goliath her soft features melted into a renaissance painting. A woman in her own right, overflowing with untold power, those shades making her look every inch the badass motherfucker you knew she was.

You can’t help your untimely realisation that your daughter has grown into a formidable woman as you propel her through the air with bubbles of psionic energy to deliver the helmet to her not-quite-father and Wade.   

The brief moment of triumph as you overcome Cassandra’s men is followed in quick succession by the sobering loss of Logan for a second time, as he leaps through the golden shimmering portal.

It had been the plan all along, and yet you couldn’t quite account for the stone in your stomach weighing you down at the realisation he is gone yet again.

Laura’s deep brown eyes, all too often full of difficult emotions, are hidden behind the colourful sunglasses, though you can tell from the fall in her shoulders that your girl feels the same grief. She had held out childlike hope that the two of you would stay with him despite his earlier brush off and you are far too ashamed to admit you had been harbouring similar hopes.

To have gotten him back for a single day only to lose him again, for you it is painful. For her, it must be torment.

So, you put a pin in your pain for now. Loss is an old friend, one that will no doubt visit in the dead of night when sleep inevitably evades you, but Laura needs you.

Swallowing your grief deep down, you begin by tucking her wild dark hair back behind her ears and with the bone of your knuckle you wipe an errant splatter of blood from her brow.

Around you, your team bask in the defeat of Cassandra and her people, yet the two of you mourn losing yet another Logan.

“The time we had with him was a gift.” You whisper to her. The second you touch her palm with your finger tips; her claws instantaneously retract. You interlock your fingers with her own bloodied ones. 

For a moment the two of you stand together like this, coming to terms with the loss. It doesn’t destroy you the same way North Dakota had, but it has certainly taken the air from your lungs. 

“What now?” Laura asks, burying her emotions, more like Logan than you care to admit.  

“Now we find a way to get back home, Cassandra’s not hunting us anymore, maybe we can-“

“Miss Y/LN, Miss- “At the sound of an unfamiliar voice your head whips round and you are armed with a knife before you even make the decision and from the telltale ‘snikt’ behind you so is Laura.

 “Holster your weapons.” The agent shouts as the group of forgotten heroes turn their gaze on the TVA squad who have appeared from the orange glowing doorway. “You have been offered a pardon on order of the time variance authority - please come with us.”

 Laura steps forward, though you place a steady hand on her shoulder stopping her in her tracks. “The last time we trusted you people, we ended up in this dump.” You shout across the gulf that the agents have left between you. 

When has anything in life been this easy?

 “Mr Howlett and Mr Wilson saved the multiverse. All they have asked in return is for a second chance for the people who helped them do it.”

Whilst remaining utterly compelling it still feels far too good to be true. You look at your daughter; she pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head and nods once. She’s not a little girl anymore and she wants to go through the damn doorway.  With little in the way of options you decide with a deep sigh to be an optimist, which is how you end up in Wade Wilson’s apartment.

Five people (six if you include Dogpool) living in a two-bedroom apartment was …  to put it lightly, snug. Wade being the secret gentleman he was, offered up his room to you and Laura.

Nights he didn’t spend at Vanessa’s were spent sharing a bed with Al, much to her delight, which left Logan sleeping on the couch.

Logan: This Logan was nothing short of an enigma to you. 

The two of you had been friendly, smiling and laughing, sitting together at the party Wade had thrown to celebrate saving the universe.

It felt good, easy even to joke with him and Laura. You had felt like a real family as you sandwiched the young girl between the two of you, taking it in turns to make her laugh.

When she had abandoned the two of you to talk with Yukio and Ellie,  you had fallen into comfortable companionable silence. The simple fact of the matter was that you didn’t have much in the way of small talk, all of your talk was massive talk. A mountain you’d soon have to overcome, but neither of you wanted to break the spell.

So, you simply enjoyed each other’s company and when your knee knocked against his under the table, you didn’t bother pulling back. Instead, when he didn’t immediately recoil, you left it there pressed against the warm muscle. 

This casual touching was new to both of you and you were drunk on it, occasionally you’d brush his plaid covered bicep as you leaned across to stroke the monstrosity that was Mary Poppins or you’d brush your fingers against his with a smile when you handed him a fresh beer.  

It’s fair to say, you are both black belts at emotional avoidance. 

Her abandoned airbed, more electrical tape than plastic at this point, lies deflated in the corner of the bedroom, dual holes from slender claws having led to its untimely end.

With a sigh you rise, stretching your aching back. 

Wincing as it cracks from contorting on the edge of the double mattress- even in the goddamned void, you’d had more personal space than this.

Sparing a glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table, you see it’s 6:23am. In a vain hope you just listen to the sounds of the quiet apartment, no one else has awoken yet. You sigh with relief, desperate for some alone time, after living for a week with everyone underfoot. 

Closing the bedroom door behind you as silently as possible, you tiptoe with bare feet with the honest intention of going to the kitchen for some coffee.

Only you’re sidetracked by the man sprawled across the sofa looking like he was carved from goddamn marble.

The blanket is wrapped around his plentiful jean covered thighs as his bare size twelves extend comically over the arm of the sofa. Logan’s thick, veined and extremely bare arm hangs off of the leather cushion, whilst the other clutches a pillow under his head. Logan is wearing a white vest that leaves very little to the imagination, so much so you’re unable to help the flashback of stroking the abs you know linger below the almost transparent white cotton. You’re unsure how long you stand there, but it can’t be more than 30-seconds before his eyes wearily blink open, startling you.

“Paint a picture, it’ll last longer, Bub.” When he speaks, his voice is even thicker than usual with sleep, it’s like honey on gravel and it makes your skin tingle.

“Uh-” You’re lost for words after being caught ogling the sleeping man. All you can do is a quick apology as you carry on through to the kitchen.

When you’re safe from view, you slap palm to your forehead - Why? Why couldn’t you for once in your life just be smooth? 

The second you're out from under his searing gaze a million infinitely suaver responses flood your mind. ‘Don’t mind if I do.’ ‘Don’t tempt me.’ 

You’re nearly (Y/A+7 years) old, not the idiot girl that pined after the unattainable bad boy of the mansion. For the love of all that’s holy; two different versions of that man have been inside of you, and you ran away!

You’re pacing in front of the fridge when you hear his body slide against the leather of the couch. Honestly, you’re praying for the void to swallow you back up as you try to act casual, filling the coffee machine with water.

 “Mornin’.”

“Good Morning, Logan.” You reply though you can’t quite meet his eyes as you flick the switch for the drip to begin. 

“Back on the couch - Eh, I was just kiddin’ around, Bub.” He scratches his neck awkwardly.

“Oh. I, uh, I know.” You reply, finally meeting his eyes. Those hazel eyes stop you in your tracks as they scan your face for any trace of emotion. He’s as out of his depth as you are, and that thought alone calms you. “I’m sorry, If i’ve been strange the past few days… I thought…I just assumed I would never make it out of the void and I was there for months and uh-”

“Bub… y/n... I don’t hold you to what happened that night.”

“What?” You narrow your brows in confusion, you were only going to talk about the uncomfortable adjustment period to regular life.  

“You were vulnerable, I look like your guy. I get it.” His voice is still deep and he’s trying to be so understanding and noble, you can’t help as you reach out and grab his bare wrist, your forefinger can't even meet your thumb as you hold onto his thick warm flesh.

“Logan, no that’s not what I meant at all. I-” 

“-Mornin’ love birds! Don’t let me stop ya’ from takin’ care of that mornin’ wood, just getting some delicious nectar of the gods.” Wade comes from the bedroom wearing Al’s lilac dressing gown and what looks suspiciously like the older woman’s pyjamas, riding far too high up his shins to be his own for the much taller man. Wade leans against the counter next to you and the coffee machine, burying himself in the neck of the dressing gown and looking pointedly at your hand around Logan’s wrist and whispers. “Pretend I’m not even here.”

“God give me strength, Wade.”  Somewhere along the way, Logan’s rage with the mouth has dampened to the point there’s no real threat behind the warning.

As there’s probably about a few teaspoons of coffee in the machine, every fresh drop plinks against the glass jug only enhancing the newfound silence in the kitchen.

“Good Morning, Wade.” You sigh finally, rubbing your thumb against the hair covered flesh of Logan’s wrist in a promise as you try to use your eyes to communicate; we will discuss this. 

“Honestly, I’m not even here. Just go back to staring longingly at each other, talk amongst yourselves.”

“Fu-” Logan starts, his nose flaring at the man beside you, his finite patience already slipping.  

“Incoming.” Wade sings-song lowly, as he drops his head onto your shoulder.

“What are we all doing in the kitchen?” Laura asks through a yawn, her bed head innately ridiculous standing up on all sides - probably from a night spent tossing and turning, kneeing you in the spine. When Logan tears his wrist away from your hand it stings a little, but you understand, the last thing Laura needs in her life is more confusion.

“There’s a line for the coffee, kiddo.” Logan gives her a look that's somewhere between a smile and a grimace. The man’s sharp edges were slowly being worn away again and he was really trying with his daughter, though a tiny growl leaves the young woman at his words.

“She’s not a morning person.” Is the only answer you have for him when he looks your way both confused and quite frankly a little frightened as your daughter takes the first cup of coffee and returns to her room slamming the door behind her with her foot.  

“Teenagers, huh? Whatcha’ gonna’ do with them?” Wade sighs, still leaning his head on your shoulder having made no effort to stop the queue jumper.

Logan gives Wade a meaningful look and tilts his head towards the door, which the man currently invading your personal space bubble continues to ignore. 

There’s something about Wade you can’t find it in yourself to be annoyed by. 

Those years on the run with Charles, Logan and Caliban had been so hopeless, so void of laughter, that the man with the constant jokes puts you at ease, makes your heart feel lighter. Wade makes you smile which has been a rare commodity in recent years.

Perhaps it's the fact he makes the world feel a little lighter that makes you so willing to tolerate the overly familiar head on your shoulder. 

The two men are having a silent conversation, as you stare at the fridge awkwardly.

“I…uh… I think I’ll jump in the shower.” You detangle yourself from Wade and place a meaningful hand on Logan's arm. “Talk later?”

He looks to your hand, and then to your face and simply nods. 

Only, you don’t end up talking later, because after your shower, you return to your bedroom hell bent on getting dressed and heading out into the city for the day to get some distance before you start your new job tomorrow.

That’s when you find Laura twisting her hands and waiting for you. The second you close the door behind you, she stands.

“You alright, bug?” You ask, giving her the opening she so desperately needs. 

“I, um, have some news.” She can barely meet your eyes, a trait you’re sorry to say she’s picked up from you. 

“Yeah?” You prompt, taking her hand in yours.

“I want to join the X-Men.” Your mouth opens involuntarily to reply, but no words can find their way up your throat; you’re irrevocably thrown. 

In the years since the devastation Charles had wrought on the manor, you hadn’t been able to muster the strength to return to West Chester.

“I know, you might not be sold on the idea but I want to use my powers for good, I don’t want to get a normal job - not that the coffee shop isn’t great for you - but I’m-”

“It’s great, Laura.” Your voice sounds wrong even to your ears. “I’ll do my best to get used to being back in the Mansion-”

“No.” You can tell it slips out, she honestly doesn’t mean it to. “I … I, uh, want to join the X-Men, me. I want to go alone.”

“Oh.” You can’t help the deflated sound of your voice, you hadn’t foreseen your daughter breaking up with you when you woke up this morning.

“No, mamá,” She takes your hand in hers, desperate to fix it. “I love you and I can’t ever repay-”

“No, Laura.” You tell her. She looks terrified before you rush to finish. “You don’t ever have to repay me. You are fucking magnificent, so you go be an X-Man. I love you so much.” 

She wraps her arms around your middle, buries her face in your  shoulder and squeezes, she's just as tall as you are now at nineteen years old and fuck if it doesn’t break your goddamn heart.. “If you get yourself hurt with those do gooders, I’ll fucking kill you.”

After dressing and many more tearful hugs as the two of you talk logistics, it's decided she’d be heading over to the mansion in the morning. 

You start work and so does she.

Your heart drops when you hear she’s put off telling you for the past five days, ever since she’d had the offer from Ellie and Yukio at the party. 

Later that evening telling Logan goes, well, about as well as you might expect.

“No.” He growls furiously. “Absolutely, no fuckin’ way.”

“Logan-” You try.

“You agreed to this?” He’s blind to reason as he turns on you. Al and Wade both sit in the living room, having called an ‘urgent family meeting’. 

“I for one think it's a great idea! - not that we haven’t loved having-” One look from Logan does what you had up until this very moment thought impossible and shuts Wade up. 

“Logan, she’s an adult - she wants to join them. We should be supportive.”

“Supportive?!” He’s incredulous as he laughs harshly, voice utterly brimming with condescension when he continues. “You forgettin’ what happened there, huh, bub? You and I are the fuckin’ sole survivors - Last of the class! How's your Storm doing? Your Hank? Your Scott? Oh wait, their all fuckin’ dead!”

Your Logan never spoke to you this way. Never directed that fire within him at you, it's unfair, the comparison, you know this but your brain is misfiring with shock. 

Had your Logan ever truly cared about anything this much when you’d been together in those dark days? Had all the fight truly left him back then? Had the two of you just ended up together out of mere convenience?

When you don’t reply, he just stares your way, his nose flared still utterly furious, at you, your betrayal, at Laura, at this situation he’s not emotionally equipped to deal with. This Logan’s shoulders are squared like he’s preparing to go a few rounds with you and not in a sexy way. 

It's not a situation you’re entirely sure you’ve been in before; you’ve never been his enemy.  So you’re not sure how to approach this cornered animal, ready to swipe out at you in his fear. 

“If I didn’t go to that school, I never would’ve met any of you. I would be back in Y/H/T (your hometown) and I’d be lesser for it.” 

It utterly disarms him, he’d clearly been prepared for harsh words to combat his own.

Pacing like a tiger locked in a cage, he finally sighs rubbing his forehead irritability. Logan turns, grabbing his leather jacket making the doorframe shake as he slams it after himself. 

“I think he’s secretly happy for you, Laura.” Wade’s voice is light and full of sarcasm.

“That went just about as well as to be expected.” Al huffs from her position at her side as she takes Laura’s hand in her own. “I’m sorry, Sweetie. He’ll come round to the idea.”

“Yes, he fucking will.” Seeing your daughter's face crumble as he storms off like a child is apparently your breaking point.

You follow after him, though as you’re a grown adult in charge of her emotions you simply allow the door to close behind you.

“Haha! - She’s gonna beat the shit outta’ him! Its gonna’ be like 454 when she-” You hear Wade cackle as you take off.

It doesn’t take long to find him, you know the man better than you know yourself, though it does certainly help that he’s predictable as shit.

The closest bar to the apartment is where he’s pulled up a stool, his nose flares the second he smells you.

“I mean it this time, I’m not looking for damn company.”

You ignore him, just as you did the time before. 

“Two Corona’s please.”

“I don’t drink that shit.” he huffs. “Corona and a Blue Ribbon.”

It shouldn’t hit you the way it does. 

Just like before, this miniscule insignificant difference, it utterly devastates you.  

A simple fact; his favourite beer. The drink he ordered at every bar he entered without fail - is suddenly, without warning, repulsive to him. 

It just serves to remind you that the man slouched on the bar stool beside you is a complete stranger wearing the face of your dead lover.

Perhaps your Logan drank it simply because he didn’t want to hurt your feelings? 

Had he hated it all along? 

Did he only drink it because you did? 

Maybe the beer is a pertinent metaphor for your entire life.

He only drank the beer because it was there, just like he only fell for you because there was no one better around. 

Your mind is moving a mile a minute, you’re only bought out of your spiral by a bottle being placed down in front of you.

Shaking your head, you will yourself to calm down. After a few centering breaths, Logan is looking your way. 

“Thought you were comin’ to give me a talkin’ to.”

It's funny, in a way, your spiral actually has calmed you, reminded you that this isn’t your Logan. 

He’s a different man with his own set of wounds, trying to navigate this awful situation just like you are. 

“I was going to. You were a dick to her back there.” You sigh, taking a sip of your beer. “Then I remembered everything… everything you’ve lost and I thought maybe I could just cut you some slack this time.”

“That's generous.” He shakes his head, sipping his own beer. “This whole things a fuckin’ mess.”

You can’t help but agree with a nod. 

The two of you sit in silence, which would appear to be the norm these days, you have so much to say to one another, yet you can’t seem to find the words. 

Speaking to him, finding out more of the things that are different about him, terrifies you.

Little do you know, Logan is fighting a similar battle.

He hates the weight of your gaze, how it seems to hold the expectation of the great man you’d lost with every glance, it's a constant reminder how short he falls of the anchor being this world lost. 

“Where am I in your world?” You ask the question you’ve had on your mind since meeting him. He knows almost everything about you, and yet you know so little.

“Dead.” He sighs rubbing at his eyes. “With the rest of them.”

“Did we ever?” He looks your way sharply at this question, then gives a harsh shake of his head. 

It hurts a little to know you were always in the background for him - it's difficult to think of a world where you always loved him from afar, never getting to feel his skin on yours. 

“I mean - you’d have had to pay attention to someone other than her for that to happen, I guess.”

“How the fuck’-” He growls voice filled with a new emotion, one you’re not quite familiar with. Bemusement? Disbelief?  “-has this turned into me being the bad guy for not noticing you?” 

“Eh - you were a real asshole upstairs.” Smirking, you take another sip of your drink. “Question for a question? - Take it in turns?”

“I don’t wanna’ know anythin’ about your world.” He snaps, turning his head back, though you can see him watching you in the mirror beside the booze. 

It's like a countdown, you watch him battle his volatile emotions. 

5, 4, 3 , 2, 1.

“Fine.” He grunts into his beer bottle. “How’d they die?”

That throws you, you’d expected how’d we meet? What happened to Charles? Instead he hits you with that straight out the gate.

“Uh - Charles had started showing signs of a degenerative brain disease. I mean,  he was old, prone to seizures. We were desperate to find a way to control them. We were blind… to the reality of the situation.” You take a sip, resting your forehead on your hand as your eyes ache and threaten to water, this was the first time you’d ever discussed this out loud.. “Then, he had a fucking grand mal … it … it wiped out everyone within a 100,000 foot radius.” 

Unable to help it, you pick at the skin around your thumb. “It was… devastating. He killed them all. All the kids in their classrooms, our friends and family. Not even Jean could stop him.”

“He… he killed Jean?”

You're a little ashamed of the flare of jealousy at his devastation about the woman you’d always come second to. But you push that deep down, it's not the time nor place.

“How’d you survive?” He questions. 

“I was away. I’d heard of a neurosurgeon in Germany, he was developing… Well, it doesn’t matter now. But I was away, whilst everyone I cared about died.” 

You’d never had a need to speak of it, Logan had lived it alongside you - there was something cathartic about saying it all out loud. You wipe at your cheek as you gulp down the last of your drink, a heavy stone weighing your stomach now. 

“Your turn.” Logan’s voice is deep in thought as gestures to the bartender for another. He’s extending an olive branch, a kindness in the face of your vulnerability. 

You think about it for a moment, what you’d like to know. 

“We were friends at least?”

“Oh yeah, we were the best of friends, Bub. You were… uh … a lil’ younger back there, never really looked at you that way.” He scratches at his bearded chin, he’s avoiding looking your way again, uncomfortable sharing these parts of himself. “You… uh… you were gonna have pups with Pete.”

“With Maximoff?!” You squeak disbelieving, whilst taking a sip of your beer prompting a coughing fit to end them all, as you gasp for air. 

Logan sighs, slamming his open palm between your shoulder blades. He rubs the spot he just hit in a circle pattern, reminding you somewhat of the last time he drew circles.

“I had a baby with Peter?” You push your hair back from your face. “...That's why he used to stare at me … y’know there was one time…” 

You smile fondly recounting a time you caught him staring creepily across your classroom before you remember that sweet silver haired kid in your memories is dead. The smile drops from your face in an instant; you didn’t have children with him because he’s six feet under. 

“No. You were pregnant when….” He grunts, his voice has a raw edge to it. For two people constantly at odds, your souls were in the same state of flux, continually aching for vastly different reasons, yet at the root, the same cause. 

The two of you sit in silence for a moment or two, you’re processing the fact that you almost had kids with Quicksilver and he’s no doubt regretting ever playing this game.

The game. 

“It's your turn.”

“This is why she shouldn’t join them, everyone we know is dead.” Logan has had enough of the game as he sighs, rubbing at his eyes. “Being a goddamn hero gets you killed.”

“Logan.” You touch the back of the hand currently gripping the beer bottle neck like it owes him money. “She’s strong, stronger than me. Laura is you in every way that counts. She’s ridiculously stubborn, headstrong - even when she’s wrong - and she has a kind heart. She wants to use those gifts you’ve given her for good. How can you stand in the way of that?” 

Logan’s hand flips over, his warm callused fingers coming to link around your own. 

“The kind heart is all you, bub.” 

The beers have loosened your tongue, made your anxieties seem a little further away.

“I don’t know. You have your moments.” His fingers dance along your palm, stroking the broken planes.

The two of you enjoy this easy intimacy you’d been forming over the past few days. 

“How’d we get together?” Those instruments of death you’ve seen take countless lives, glide over the soft skin of your wrist. Your eyes, usually so afraid to meet his, can’t leave their hazel captivity as you process his blunt question

“Oh, uh…” Tucking your hair behind your ear with your free hand, your eyes dart to his fingers still drifting across your flesh.

“Don’t get shy on me now, bub.” He smirks, though his heart’s not in it. 

That asshole. 

Taking a deep gulp of your third beer, you rely on the liquid courage, before raising your eyes back to his.

“One night. It was a few days after everything, we had finally got a sedative for Charles. We had a moment to take stock of everything we’d lost. You … uh … he came to me and … he cried. The first time I’d seen it.” His hand pulls back, but you can’t help it, you refuse to release your hold. You don’t want to lose this connection. Your thumb dips, rubbing at his knuckle, at the joint where his claws always caused the bone to ache. “I held him and he kissed me, it was messy. It was desperate but I think we both needed to feel something that wasn’t grief.” 

“And I thought I was special… ” His voice holds sarcasm though you can tell the sentiment behind it is anything but humorous.

“You are special to me.”

“Yeah.” His voice is dismissive, like he doesn’t believe what you’re saying.

“You are.”

“I look like the guy who’s special to you, darlin’. I’m not him, as much as you may wish I am. Hell I wish I was.” He has snatched his hand away as he slams cash down on the bar.

Logan has started the short walk back to the apartment, cutting through the alley.

He’s hurt, burying it deep beneath the rage. His anger is an old friend. One he’s comfortable confronting.

“I’m done with your stupid games. I’m done with it all. Haven’t you got the memo? I’m the worst Logan.”

“I’m so fucking sick of that! You’re so goddamn cruel to yourself.” You cry out at his leather covered shoulders, that in itself seems to stop him in his tracks. The Y/N from his world was a mousy wallflower through and through, nothing he’d seen from this world led him to believe you were any different and yet his ears weren’t deceiving him. “I loved my Logan - I fucking adored him. Yes, sometimes it's hard to separate the two of you, but I care for you.”

He stands motionless in the alley as you bare your soul. 

“I’ve known you for a week. I can’t love you the same because you’re not the same person, not entirely, but my soul knows yours. You’re Logan.” You’ve closed the distance but he still wont turn around and perhaps that's what makes it easier to say the things you’ve been desperate to say for days. “I look in your eyes and I feel safe, when you touch me everything feels like it's going to be okay. You’re not the worst, you’re not the best. You’re Logan; you’re just Logan.”

Logan is on you instantly, silencing your words with a scorching kiss. It's the kind you see in movies, desperate, filled to the brim with passion, usually taking place in the rain.

His hands find your lower back, pulling you to him as your wrap your arms around his neck, making sure he can’t escape from your grasp, as he growls and pushes you against the brick wall. 

Your nose aches from the pressure of his cheek pressed against it as he devours your mouth with his own. He is claiming your mouth with a week of pent up emotions. He grips your thigh, hiking your leg up around his waist, pressing the hardened bulge of his jeans against your core. 

“Mom? … Logan?” 

There in the street light Laura is illuminated. Her face gives nothing away, she may as well be wearing those sunglasses for all you can garner from her expression. 

“Hey Love! - I.. We…uh-” Logan slowly releases your thigh, slyly adjusting his jeans in an attempt to hide his erection. You do your best to stand in front of the -ahem- sizeable bulge. 

“How's it going?” You ask with a faux air of casualness as you place your hands on your hips, though your voice has a weird edge.

“Pretty good. How’s it going for you?” Her own voice has a coy little smile to it, which puts you at ease just a little. 

“Great, I’m great. Logan? You great?”

“Great.” He grunts behind you. 

“Great! - Everyone’s … great.” 

The three of you stand in silence for a second or two, processing what's just happened or perhaps trying to decide if great is still a real word.

“You’re so weird.” Laura snorts. “For the record I’m happy that you both pulled your heads out of your asses.”

“Baby-”

“Kid-” You and Logan speak in sync. Your eyes lock as you both try and decide how the other was going to finish that sentence.

“Laura - me and your Mom… uh… things are complicated… and we don’t want to drag you into this.” Logan, the man of very few words, has managed to find them. You’re stunned into silence as he takes control of a conversation… about feelings… with his daughter.

This is not any Logan that you know.

Laura looks to you, waiting for your seal of approval on the message.  

“I know how confusing things are already, Bug.” You close the distance between the two of you, linking your fingers with hers.  “Me and your dad, we’re working through some things.”

You notice Logan’s shoulders setting straighter at his new title, like a welcome weight has been placed upon them. She nods at your words, smiling devilishly.

“It was just a matter of time, Mama. He has a staring problem.”

“No, I fuckin’ don’t.” He growls from behind you both. Your heart feels lighter than it has in a decade as the two of you cackle at his defensive response.

He digs his hands into his pockets glaring your way, though it has no heat whatsoever behind it, in fact he looks like he’s fighting a smile.

With your hand still firmly in Laura’s you pull her back towards the apartment, linking your arm through Logan’s warm, thick leather clad one. He doesn’t take your hand, but he also doesn’t pull away as the three of you walk back to the house. 

“Can we get pizza? - For emotional trauma?” She questions.

“Baby, I’ll buy you all the pizza in New York.” You reply rolling your eyes.

“Not with fuckin’ pineapple on.” Logan groans.

“Pineapple on pizza is objectively delicious!” Laura defends from her place on your otherside, she pulls on your hand still hanging between the two of you. “Back me up.”

“I will always have your back … but…. pineapple on pizza is in fact a crime against humanity.” 

Logan lets out a guffaw of victory, as Laura snarls his way. You take a mental picture, the warmth in your chest, bracketed in by your two favourite people in the world. Life is good.

Laura leaves the next morning. 

It is a difficult pill to swallow, after seven years by her side. You can’t quite make the leap to take her to the mansion, it's something she understands. So when you embrace her at the doorway after Ellie reassures you for the 30th time she’ll look out for her, you find it hard to let go.

There hasn’t been a day you’ve been without her since you first met the scrawny 12-year old in Mexico. Laura is an extension of you, like your heart is on the outside of your body and you’re not ready for your heart to go to West Chester without you being there to protect it. 

At that moment you understand why she needs this independence, she’s 19 years old. She needs her own life, to experience everything it has to offer but that doesn’t make letting go any easier.

“You call if you need anything, anything at all.” You tell her as you push her hair behind her ears. “Don’t stay up too late but also don’t go to bed too early to make friends but make sure you get plenty of sleep.”

“I will get the perfect amount of sleep, don’t worry.” She grabs your wrists, removing your hands from her hair.

“Okay, okay. Sorry.” You sigh, your anxiety is eating away at your stomach. She’s not the vulnerable child being hunted anymore, you try to remind yourself. “If you need me-”

“-If you need us. We’ll be there.” Logan cuts you off, interjecting his own amendment. 

In a show of affection you’re not quite expecting, he hugs the girl. It's somewhat awkward and clumsy, the two have known each other for a week, but when they pull back, you can see the gesture was all that really mattered.

He hands her her backpack, which she throws one strap over her shoulder. The two smile at each other in their silent language, both such quiet souls. 

When she turns back to you, you ask. “We can walk you down?”

“Stay here? It’s easier this way.” She looks so small as she pleads with you.

Taking mercy on her, you nod. 

“Okay.” Waving you watch her turn for the door. You don’t expect however when she turns back and barrels into your chest for a final time, burying her face in your neck.

“I love you, Mama.” She whispers, you can’t help it as your eyes water. You wrap your arms around her, squeezing her tightly to your chest. 

“I love you. You are my world.” You know she needs you to let her go for her to be able to walk through that door. So with a deep inhale of her hair for the road, you pull back gathering your strength. You pull her other strap onto her shoulder and push her hair back from her face. You wipe her tears from her cheeks and give her the biggest smile you can muster, despite your teary eyes and broken voice. “Give them hell, baby.”

Laura nods, giving her own matching teary smile. Her back straightens and her shoulders square as she follows Yukio and Ellie down the hall. The duo waving at you as they descend down the stairs.

You’re so busy watching your world disappear down the hall you barely feel the heavy warm hand wrap around your shoulder in comfort. You melt into Logan’s side as your heart shatters.

You wait for him to leave in a hurry, only he does the last thing you expect of the Wolverine. He wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest. You close your eyes as the tears begin to fall against your will. 

Logan strokes your back. He doesn’t offer any words of comfort, but he doesn’t need to, his presence alone is enough.

His trimmed beard, bristles against your hair as he places a kiss on the top of your head, burying his nose in your hair as he holds you. 

It's hard to say how long the two of you stand there like that. Only when your body stops shaking do you finally look up through tear streamed eyes.  Logan looks down at you, his face is lined with concern. 

“You good?”

“I will be.” Your voice is broken from crying. “I-”

“I know, Bub.” He smiles your way, one you’ve not seen, perhaps ever.

It's soft, sympathetic but filled with adoration. He pushes the strand of hair, now sodden with tears, back behind your ear. His finger lingers on the curve of the bone for a moment or two before he pulls back. 

“Bar?”

“Bar.”

Things change when Laura leaves. Not massively, and not entirely for the worst.

You and Logan had started sharing the bed, not like that (unfortunately), but sleeping next to one another. It was comfier than the sofa and his body curled around yours made you sleep a hell of a lot more soundly. Suddenly years of insomnia were cured by his muscled warmth curled around you like a safety blanket.

He never made a move to further it, even if you had once or twice tried to entice him by grinding your backside against his morning wood. The man was nothing if not resilient as he rolled away, grunting.

The two of you had been getting to know one another, you had resolved to treat him like a whole new man. This revelation meant that their differences weren’t such a blow anymore, you didn’t actively compare the two of them as much.

You had created a clear picket line in your head and it seemed to be working. They were two different versions of the same man, each with their own merits and disadvantages. 

They weren’t to be compared.

The two of you had started a ritual of movie nights, evenings where you’d sit a little too close on the couch and pretend it wasn’t happening. He’d share a blanket he knew he didn’t need just to get close to you. It was a little uncomfortable when Wade asked to come under the blanket but you enjoyed the time spent with the clown,  

In fact, your favourite night had been when you, Wade and Al had all sat down to watch the Notebook - the movie Logan point blank refused watch.

Yes, the movie he objected to so strongly, then proceeded to watch from behind the couch, standing awkwardly on the threshold of the lounge. Where he lingered for the first half an hour pretending to have no interest in it. 

When the end credits came around he was back under the blanket with you and Wade, utterly refusing to admit that he’d cried. 

That argument with Wade had gotten heated and he’d put three little tears in your blanket, but it was one of your fondest memories in this apartment. 

It had been three weeks now. Only two of them had been spent hunting for a room that you could afford on a barista’s salary, which was the only job you were qualified for after dropping off the planet for the past ten years.

Colossus had offered you your old teaching position though you didn’t want to cramp Laura’s style and you didn’t think you could face stepping foot back in that mansion, too many of your ghosts lingered there. The same could be said for Logan, though he had found much better paying work at St Margarets.

He and Wade did odd jobs, merc work to pay the rent. They killed bad guys and got paid for it, and boy they got paid a hell of a lot more than you.

The coffee shop below Wade’s apartment, or waking hell, as you’d come to know it was your slice of a regular life; trying to push your circle peg into a triangle hole.

Its a 24-hour coffee shop, cause who doesn’t need caffeine at 3am? Tch. New York. You’re leaning on the counter a million miles away, contemplating if the graveyard shifts are worth the illusion of paying your way when Logan makes up most of your share of the rent anyway.

Your singular customer is a young guy typing away on his laptop, desperately trying to finish what looks like a college essay. He’s eleven espressos in and has been here since before your shift started at 5pm. You haven’t been told if you can cut someone off, but surely that much caffeine must count as overserving. 

The bell above the door tingles loudly, the warm lights illuminate his red mask. 

Wade.

“Hey angel baby!” He comes to the counter, pretending to read the board as if he hasn’t been here a million times before.

“Hi Wade.” You smile tiredly at the man. “What’cha want? It's on the house!”

“Ooooh, gimme’ a Caramel Macchiato but hit me with like 6 shots espresso, extra caramel and don’t skimp on the whipped cream - I like to call this the don't stop til dawn.”

“Your insides must be a mess.” You shake your head and get to making his drink. 

“How’s the soul crushing service industry treating ya?” He asks, leaning one hand on the counter.

“It’s okay. A little boring, but not so bad, nobody's shooting at me.” You motion downwards with your eyes to the fresh bullet holes in his red suit.

“Ha! Yeahhh. But it's good old fashioned fun, beating guys to a pulp, saving kids from trees, taking candy from cats.” You roll your eyes at the man. “But they say, if you love your job you never work a day in your life! And boy, I love my job.”

You're steaming the milk when he speaks up again, shouting loudly over the machine. “You should come and work with me and Logi Bear. He’s 10% less of an old grumpy fuck when you’re around.”

He’s still shouting when the machine quietens, making your cringe a little as the kid looks your way. This isn’t the first time Wade’s broached the subject with you.

“I get you wanna move out, we love having you, but I get that Al’s old lady smell can get sorta’ overwhelming after a while.”

“Wade.” You sigh, admonishing his jokes about the lady who you’ve grown to care for in the past month. “If you didn’t live in a two bed, I’d love to stay, but it's just too small and I want you to have your bedroom back. I hate feeling like a burden.”

You secure the lid to his drink when its finally complete. “One heart attack in a cup.” 

“My favourite.” His mask contorts around the eyes showing his smile. “Oh Wolvie’s upstairs in bad shape. Something took a fuckin’ chunk outta him.”

“What the fuck Wade?! Why didn’t you lead with that?” You’re pulling off your apron and halfway around the counter before you remember your shift isn’t over for another hour.  

“Cause’ then you wouldn’t have made my fast juice.”

Ah fuck it.

“Don’t steal the cash register.” You warn the kid looking your way. “He’ll hunt you down and beat the crap out of you.”

Wade waves at the kid behind you, he has his macchiato in one hand and baby knife in his other for special effect. The kid gives a look of ‘Jeez’ before returning to his work.

“You coming?” You ask when your almost half way through the door.

“Nah - saving innocents makes me hungy. Fork hands has his healing factor. He'll be fine.” Wade replies dismissively.

Huffing you turn on your heel and practically run to the apartment. 

A chunk out of him? 

Logan's healing factor was significantly better without the adamantium poisoning but surely he could die. In an instant you’re back in North Dakota, holding his hand as he fades away. 

Your breath is heavy as you take the steps two at a time. 

Not again. 

The door is thrown open and instead of chaos you find the lights dimmed, candles all over the apartment and there Logan stands in a new plaid buttondown and his finest wranglers. He’s holding a bouquet of sunflowers in those veined hands you love so much. It's like something out of a Danielle Steel novel and you utterly melt.

The panic that had clutched your heart recedes. Your anxiety releases its grip on you. 

“You’re not hurt?” 

“No, bub. I’m fine. Sorry for the clown. He offered to help and I…”

You shake your head and smile at him, hesitantly you take a step forward. When you’re close enough he hands them your way. “I have it on good authority, they’re your favourites.”

“They are.”

“I wanna give you what you deserve, sweetheart.” He starts, it's like he’s rehearsed it in his head. Little do you know it's all his thought about for the past three weeks. “You deserve more than a romp in the woods, or an alley.” 

He seems to cringe at this before continuing.

“I’m not like the other guy. He was a goddamn anchor being, hero through and through from what I hear about him. I’m angry, I kill people and I drink too goddamn much, but when you look at me, I feel like I could be him.” For the first time, it is him that takes your hand in his much larger one. “Do you know how jealous of that asshole I am, Bub? That he got you first? That he got to have your uncomplicated love. If you’d been older in my timeline, I would've’ met you first, I wouldn’t have looked twice at another and I’d have fallen for you the second you looked up at me from beneath those eyelashes, how could I not when everything about you is so easy to love?” 

You’ve always been a crier, and this is no different. The man is stamping down every single one of your insecurities, reassuring you as you go. Making you feel more loved then you’ve ever felt before.

“I adore you. From your crappy cooking-”

“-Hey.”

“Your porny books you think I don’t see, to the way you cry at movies, how much you love our daughter. I fuckin’ love you Y/N. Its messy and complicated, I’m not sure if you could-”

In a total role reversal it is you who cuts him off, grabbing his face in your palms and dragging his face down to yours. Your mouths join for the first time in weeks, it is hot and full of desire and love. It's like the two of you are releasing all of your tension into this kiss, finally the air has been cleared and it's rejuvenating. 

You press your forehead to his, gasping for breath as his kisses steal the air from your lungs.

“Lo, I guarantee every version of me loves you, even if you were too blind to see it in your world.” 

“You were a married woman in my world, bub.”

You gasp theatrically. “Adulturerer.”

“You’ve spent too much time with that fuckin’ idiot.” He kisses your lips, though you don’t let it turn into anything deeper, as you pull back rubbing your nose against his. 

“Fornicator.” 

“tch… stop.” He groans, grabbing your ass pulling you into his bulge, you bite his lip with a giggle. “Why do you have these lined up?”

He never gets his answer as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his back and carries you through to the bedroom. You pull away from his mouth, looking over to the set dinner table.

“The food… you went to all that effort!” He is kissing your neck, nipping and lathering the bites with his tongue. 

“Can’t cook for shit, darlin’. It’s take out, we can heat it up. I’m hungry for your fuckin’ sweet cunt right now. “

Your lower stomach clenches at his positively filthy words, you join your lips back to his. His teeth nip at your lip as he plunges his tongue into your mouth, running the tip along your teeth. 

Before there had been need, but now, you’re both desperate. You’ve had a mere taste of what the other has to offer and now you’ve starved yourself for months. 

“Not gonna’ last long on the first, darlin’.” He groans into your mouth as your hand works its way into his pants. He is eager as he throws you back onto the bed and is already working at peeling your black jeans down your legs. “Those fuckin’ shorts you sleep in, fuck. I’ve been dreamin’ about buryin’ myself in ya’ for weeks.”

“Please, Lo.” You’re not sure what you’re already begging for but you are desperate. You’re left in your uniform tee and panties, as he slowly unbuttons his button down, slowly revealing the white undershirt beneath. You’ve never found collarbones particularly attractive, but the tanned skin stretched across his is quite frankly delectable. 

You pull your shirt over your head, all too eager to be rid of the reminder of the job you should by all rights be at right now. Your bra is quick to follow.

“Those gorgeous tits, been thinking of these every fucking night.” You groan at his admission. He himself is shirtless, you have half a mind to return the same complement as your hands brush against his perfectly sculpted pecs. 

This man was the perfect specimen, it was unfair, t shirts should be outlawed for him. He grabs the waistband of your panties. 

‘Snikt’ and a rip sound and you are utterly bare before him, laying across Wade’s bed. 

Those gorgeous strong hands trace the planes of your body, circling your nipples before his mouth takes their place. 

He groans as his hands descend to your core. “All this for me? I’m gonna’ fuckin’ slide in, Baby.” 

And he does, two fingers push through your tight slick opening, three weeks of foreplay have left you soaking wet and wanting. How can you live with a man who looks the way he does, who consistently works out in the living room shirtless and not have the ocean in your panties. 

It seems Logan has had all he can take as he slides a third finger in, pumping it in and out of you, rubbing at your clit with his thumb. Gasping you grab at your sheets desperate to anchor yourself. 

He kisses up your breast, lavishing your chest in kisses and bites. Never enough to leave a mark but just enough to excite you. 

When he’s at your neck he leans in, whispering into your ear. “I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin that pussy.”

You can’t help it, maybe you’re a whore for this man, but you don’t fucking care. Your legs part even further on the bed.

“Please, Logan. I need you to fuck me.”

He grins savagely, pushing his already undone belt and jeans down his hips. He’s back up and claiming your mouth, your legs wrapped around his ass, pulling you down to him before he knows it. 

One hand is bearing his weight as the other disappears, he lines himself up at your entrance, the head of his cock breaching your folds. He’s thick, thicker than you remember, but there isn’t any discomfort this time. He settles for a moment, his forehead against yours. His mouth dips to join your lips, his tongue lashing out and fucking your mouth as his hips leap forward spearing you on his cock. The bed creaks with the power of his hips as he fucks you hard into the matress. 

Skin slapping on skin is all that can be heard as he readjusts onto his knees, he’s desperate to be as deep as possible and you need the same thing. 

“Lo-”

“I know, darlin’.” He grabs your waist, lifting you as if you weigh nothing at all and flips you over. Suddenly you’re astride him, your knees either side of his hips as his head rests in the pillows. 

His eyes are distracted by your tits as he smirks, happy with the view. 

You ache for him, so you reach down, lining his thick purple headed member with your core before you sink down in one stroke, his extended groan absolutely wrecks you as his big hands come to rest on the meat of your hips. 

You rest your hands on his amply hair covered chest, using his pecs as leverage before you raise your hips before slamming back down and bottoming him out. 

He’s so deep inside you, the tip of him must be brushing your goddamn cervix as you raise yourself once more, until he almost slips out before meeting his hips once more. 

Logan’s strength never fails to surprise you as his hands follow your lead yet help lift you through the manoeuvre. 

You’re bouncing on his cock, quick rise and fall sporadically grinding your clit deliciously into his pelvis. 

Logan feels fucking amazing inside of you, maybe its been the buildup of weeks but you find yourself heading towards the dive faster than ever before. 

“Ride my cock,sweetheart. That’s it, make yourself feel good.”

Gasping at his words and the change of position as he sits up, wrapping his arms around you and claiming your mouth. The second you find the angle that feels amazing against your clit, you hit it again and again, grinding hard against him.

“Lo - I’m gonna … I’m gonna -” You crash before you can get the words out, your toes curl by his knees and your whole body seizes in ecstasy. The world feels right as the stars appear behind your eyes.

The world stopped for you for a moment but not for Logan. He has bought his knees up and is pistoning his hips into your contorting body. He’s holding you against him, groaning into your neck as he continues to fuck your clenching pussy relentlessly.

“Oh fuck … your so fucking tight. Fucking perfect cunt- made - for - me.” He growls into your neck, but you’re too cock drunk to hear it properly, as he frantically thrusts his powerful hips up and into you. 

“Where? ” He pulls back, never slowing his hips as he grabs your cheeks with one hand. Your sweat laden face, vacant and looking back at him, your cunt hasn’t stopped clenching around him as he plunders your depths, his voice is strained as he asks again  “Darlin’...you gotta … tell me … where?”

“...inside, Lo. Please come inside me…” Your so overstimulated, you could cry.  The sound of his balls slapping against skin as he thrusts upwards deep inside of you, whilst he pulls your body down. He’s so fucking deep inside of you, your pussy squelching from a mixture of precum and your arousal.

With another string of lewd words he’s coming hard, Logan’s head has fallen back against the headboard exposing the thick chords of muscle, you can't help sinking your teeth into it, you dip your hand and rub at your clit clumsily, you’re so fucking overstimulated from watching him you follow him over the precipice once more, giving him an insanely tight sheath to come in. 

“That’s it, take it all, sweetheart” He groans as he continues to slowly pump his seed deep within you

Gasping you fall slack in his arms, your bones are jelly and your muscles ache, you really are a pillow princess. 

“Still with me?” You manage to nod your clammy forehead against his pec, you currently have your cheek squished against. He chuckles, as he lies back against the pillows, leaving his cock still inside of you, you can feel him leaking out of you as he softens a little, recovering for what you imagine will be another enthusiastic round if history is a teacher. 

You are utterly fucked out as you lie on his chest, listening to his breath with his cum slowly leaking from your abused hole. 

The two of you have never needed words, you lie against his chest, the hands you adore so much, come out to stroke your hair.

Rubbing soothingly at your scalp before running his calloused fingers through the locks and repeating. 

When you’ve finally gathered enough strength you lean on your hands, looking up at him.

“Welcome back, bub.”

“Hello.” You smile shyly, like you hadn’t just sunk your canines into his neck whilst wantonly riding his cock to oblivion. 

“You okay?” He asks, his hand rising to stroke your swollen bottom lip.

“Someone fucked me brain dead - but yeah, I’m good.” You smirk, nipping at his thumb.

He grins wolfishly and chuckles with his whole body, the movement causes his cock to move inside of you. Slowly you feel him hardening once more.

“You can still talk, Darlin’. Means I haven’t done my job properly.” The predatory gaze in his eyes excites and scares you in equal parts. Though you’re probably asking for trouble when you take his thumb back in your mouth. 

It's light outside when you finally have to tap out. 

Your pussy is aching, your ass is stinging from the new sensation, your jaw throbs and your entire body is boneless. 

You can’t quite catch your breath and your cunt is leaking so much cum, that you’re probably 10% Logan at this point. 

The Wolverine has utterly devoured you, making up for three weeks of torment in one night. Though he’s not all bad as he feeds you noodles from chopsticks as you lay on his muscled hair laden thighs. 

When Logan had suggested food, you’d had to stop him from eating Wontons from your belly button as none of your holes were currently operational. 

The two of you have dressed, though that is a strong use of the word as you’re wearing only his button down and him only his underwear. 

You’re lazing on the couch watching reruns of Friends as your bed sorely needs fresh sheets and a new base. Poor Wade, you’d have to replace it before you move out. Like he could read your mind, Logan begins. 

“I found a new place, its nothing fancy but its got four walls and no roommates.” You smile at him around your mouthful of noodles as he takes his own bite.

Sitting up you smile. “That’s great news, Lo.”

“I uh- wanted to see, if you’d wanna come with me.”

You can’t help your grin. 

fin.

I am currently posting this at the airport before my flight. I love you all! 💖

[gatoraid]

It's been about a year since He Who Drowned the World came out. To celebrate that, and the Radiant Emperor Week, I figured I could finally post this thing that has been sitting in my notes app for ages, abt why I found this book so touching.

In many ways, reading Shelley Parker-Chan’s He Who Drowned the World at age 34 felt very similar as reading Lost Souls by Poppy Z Brite (who is now known as Billy Martin) felt to me at age 17. Formative, life-changing, soul-shattering.

Both books are deeply rooted in genre fiction that can be seen as formulaic or even trashy. Lost Souls is gratuitous vampire erotica and The Radiant Emperor series was inspired by East Asian period dramas and clumsily translated web novels.

Both deal with the ugliest, darkest sides of human emotions. They deal with loneliness and how far we might be willing to go in order to be rid of it, and what happens when we only see other people as commodities for us to use and drain. But they also deal with finding a connection with someone, after spending a lifetime of thinking you were the only one who feels this way, who is this way. They both have characters who go through and commit the most atrocious things, and you can’t help but feel for them.

Most importantly, both books were also written by trans/nonbinary authors, and they’re intrinsically tied to queerness and sex, to the point where I’ve seen comments about the amount/quality of sex scenes being excessive. But the excess, the indulgence in sex and violence and the most base human impulses is exactly what makes these stories so alluring and makes it possible to dive so deep. I don’t want to read something respectable, I want to read something that feels true. Something that feels comforting in all its rawness.

Also, both of these books have this exact same scene:

”Night is the hardest time to be alive. For me, anyway. It lasts so long, and four a.m. knows all my secrets.” –Lost Souls, p. 113

”It seemed fitting that it should happen now, in the cold ebb between third and fourth watches. It was the time of night that babies were born and people died, when the dark seemed endless and the idea of morning a cruel fantasy that not even a child could believe.” –He Who Drowned the World, p. 320

[miss-celestia13]

Good Girl

Jake x MC Smut One Shot

Words: 3.4k

A week apart. A clever little toy. Taunting Jake and refusing to back down means Manon is about to learn that playing with fire gets you burnt… in a very good way. Praise, denial of sex to make her beg, and a filthy dream that shatters her control. Shameless gratuitous smut!

It's been a while since I posted some explicit shit, and this was gathering dust in my drafts. Can be read on its own. You don't even have to know the fandom to read it. It's smut at its most indulgent and plotless self. I hope you enjoy it! It's a dual POV, switches from Jake to my MC and back again every so often, but I've tried to make it as clear as possible. Their names are bolded to show whose head you're in.

Manon: It’s a shame you have to work...

Jake: Why?

Manon: I was shopping earlier and bought something for us to play with.

Jake: …

Manon lay on her front on her massive hotel bed, legs crossed at the ankle and kicking up as his chat bubble told her he was typing and deleting repeatedly. It took another few minutes before he sent something else.

Jake: For us or for you?

Manon: Well, I was bored earlier, and it was definitely for me then, but I know you’ll figure it out when I come home.

Jake: Manon.

You should have waited for me.

Manon: You should know by now that waiting isn’t my strong suit.

Jake: How many times?

She considered lying, but part of her still thought he could read her filthy mind, and her thumbs moved before her mind could catch up.

Manon: Twice.

Jake: That’s it?

Pathetic.

A strangled laugh left her, she could hear his cocky tone, and already she wanted to go for round three. She decided to play a perilous game and prod at his need to claim, conquer, and own her in bed. Familiar heat made her muscles loose, and a hot flush crept up her neck to stain her cheeks pink.

Manon: There is plenty of time to make that number rise...

Jake: Do you want me to deny you, Manon? You didn’t like it last time.

Manon: I vividly remember enjoying the end results, though.

Jake: I see.

We’ll see how long you last this time.

Sleep well, Manon. ;-)

(Jake is offline)

Fuck. Her pulse flickered wildly in her neck as she stared at the screen and wished she could slap herself, turn back time, and not provoke him into another game of, “Let’s see how long Manon’s sanity can stretch before she snaps and begs.” Two days were her limit a few months back, and she hadn’t pushed him that far since. The safety of a luxury hotel and the temporary distance between them gave her a false sense of confidence, and she would be the loser if she couldn’t hold out. No. She refused to lose and wouldn’t see him for a week. It would be easy. A walk in the Godsdamned park. It would’ve been if Jake hadn’t shown up at her door the following morning and joined her for the rest of her stay. Her new plaything was soon confiscated, and her suffering began.

Five days. Five fucking days he slept naked beside her, joined her in the shower, touched, kissed, and grabbed her until she trembled and moaned, only to be released with a peck on the cheek and a sly smirk as he turned away. Her nerves were shot, a permanent tremor took up residence in her hands whenever he brushed past her or smiled her way, and she ran out of clean underwear two days ago, slick so often she had to change them multiple times just to get through the fucking day. He never let her out of his sight to ensure she couldn’t relieve the pressure building to an implosion inside her with her fingers. She was on a blade edge as she readied for another sleepless night.

Exhaustion dragged her down as she slid off her robe and clambered into bed, ignoring the smug look on Jake’s face as she put her back to him and slammed her eyes shut. She thought sleep was beyond the realm of possibility, but her body had been on high alert for days and demanded a break. She was asleep within minutes, barely cognizant of his gentle kiss on her temple as oblivion pulled her under. There was no respite from her constant simmering arousal inside her dreams. He was there, under her, on top of or lifting her up, and it changed each time she blinked and was so vibrant and real that she could feel the slip and slide of her essence on her inner thighs as he fucked her.

Unleashed and intent on making her crumble, she was helpless as dream Jake flipped her on her front and ordered her to get on her knees and hold on. Her shaking hands gripped the bedpost just as he slid inside her, every hard inch so familiar and real to her as she keened. Out of focus and constantly changing, she could only burn as the dream spun out of control. Seeing them from above, two souls twisted together on the bed, positions switching as she flung her head back and screamed. She flinched away from it and blinked, finding herself under him once more. Release was so close it was a coppery tang on her tongue as he urged her on. Ready to crest that peak, primed to detonate, relief and gratitude sinking through her…

She was unceremoniously dragged out of it and blinked stupidly at the dark ceiling as Jake jostled the bed and turned to face her.

 

She was soaked in sweat, her saturated cunt clenching in time with her furious heartbeat, and a moan trapped halfway up her throat as her thwarted orgasm winked out of existence. That was it. Her hormones had reached critical levels. She couldn’t take it anymore. Lust was a lead weight low in her belly. A swirling ache with its own pulse resided in her core, and she realized dimly that she was whimpering softly. She could take the edge off herself and hold off a little longer. The thought made her bottom lip tremble as sweat trickled down her face. She was soaked and unable to think or breathe through the violent arousal stealing her tongue. Sensing Jake watching her, she didn’t jump when his sleep-roughened voice rumbled too close for her jumpy nerves.

“Two words, Manon. Say them, and I’ll fuck the ache away.”

Oh, fuck, he never played fair. Her legs clamped together, and she was rubbing them slightly, seeking friction as his large hand wrapped around the back of her thigh. He’d feel how wet she was; it slid down her thighs to soak the sheets, and she knew he’d already noticed. She was proven right when his fingers crawled between her legs to delve into her slippery folds. Her whimper fast turned into a whine as he circled her entrance with the tip of his finger but didn’t penetrate her. It was cruel of him to tease her when she felt like an animal in heat. A creature of base instincts so devastating she feared she might die if he didn’t fuck her. The words were on the tip of her tongue, her mouth parted along with her thighs, and she was close to begging when he called her good girl.

She hated to lose. She would rather die than give in, but her body would not rest without his care and even if he allowed her to touch herself, it wouldn’t be enough. He was smirking, she could barely see him, but she knew he was as she loosed a quivering breath and his finger grazed her clit. No, she had no other option, and her mouth opened before she understood she was talking.

“You win. Please, I think I’ll go mad if you don’t fuck me.” She fully expected him to gloat, or laugh but he didn’t make a noise.

Suddenly, his mouth was on her neck, teeth scraping down the column as she jolted and let out a yelp that soon turned to a warbling moan as he slid two fingers inside her weeping cunt. The heel of his hand caught her clit as he moved it in and out, her fluttering inner walls holding his fingers tight. She could feel her sanity splintering and weakening as pleasure ignited like fire on gasoline. Jake murmured pure filth to urge her on.

“I need you relaxed, Manon. I can’t give you what you want until you come for me. I need to hear you. Then I’ll fuck the sense back into you.”

An unhinged laugh spilled out of her as her stomach tensed, the heat between her legs now an inferno as she ground herself into his hand. It was like sparking flint over dry brush. He coaxed her along, crooking and pulling his fingers, kissing her until she drank the air from his lungs. Besotted after all this time. She wondered how they’d be twenty years from then. Still obsessed with each other and deeply in love? She believed so, and as the first ripples of her release spread from her core, she knew she would always feel so utterly unglued around him. Everything in him was designed to pull her apart and put her back together. Her mouth opened, a dark wail and curse of his name as her body tensed and jerked with every pull of his hand between her thighs.

“There, let it take the edge off. You’re beautiful.”

Over time, Jake got even braver in the bedroom, and out of it, he was confident, a little cocky when needed, and completely aware of his effect on Manon. A few words, a couple twists of his wrist, and denying her for a short time, it was a recipe for heaven when she finally erupted. He’d hated every moment of denying her; he needed her touch as often as she needed his. All he had to do was think about her or catch a hint of her seductive scent, and he was rock hard, ready to taunt her body into unconsciousness. Oh, yes, he knew how strongly he could make her react. She was always extra touchy the following days after one of those animalistic nights. He tried not to use it too often, but she deserved that from him tonight. He knew if he fucked her right away, she would come too fast to savor it. She was a livewire under his influence; he only had to look at her over the last few days, and he could observe her struggle to keep the words that would end her torment trapped inside. Her quaking body flooded his hand with her essence, and he wanted to taste it more than he wanted to breathe.

“Jake,” she whispered as she took her first full breath since waking; he affirmed as he sucked his fingers clean and wordlessly told her to go on, “I need you. Now. “

“Do you want me to take care of you?” He needed her consent before physically committing to taking her control away.

Her soft, urgent whine made his smirk broaden as she said, “Yes. Don’t make me beg.”

He let go of a black chuckle, “You already are, Sweetheart.”

That was the trigger word, saved for these moments as its power over her was so explosive that she turned feral. His smirk transformed into a grin, and he caught her as she pounced and pushed him onto his back. Her tongue was in his mouth as his cock jumped against her ass, and she clawed his chest, sharp nails making him hiss into her mouth. He groaned and bucked his hips when he felt her drip onto his torso. His cock ached with the need to sink into her tight heat and feel her disintegrate around his length. She made a beast out of him, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. He never got bored of exploring her body and claiming new territory. He wrapped his hand around his cock and sighed as he applied pressure and stroked up and down a few times. Manon keened and found her voice.

“I’ve said the damn words, Jake. Stop playing.”

He didn’t respond; he let himself go and gripped her waist, flipping them so her hips cradled his and she was pinned. The heat pouring off her was scalding, and her skin was damp, salty, and musky as he inhaled slowly. His mouth watered as he stared into her lust-hazed eyes. She would let him do anything and trusted him so profoundly she readily handed him the reins. He didn’t take that for granted as he snapped his teeth at her plump bottom lip and stretched to reach under his pillow where he’d stashed the item that started all of this. He fumbled blindly until he felt the cool, smooth handle. It was a small clit sucking toy she mentioned once in passing, and he wanted to surprise her with it, but her impatient ass couldn’t wait. She already knew what he planned as she writhed under him and shook her head.

“Yes or no, Manon. You can stop me at any time. I’m doing this for you.” He rasped as she babbled.

Her voice never sounded, but she did nod.

“Will I keep going?” He double-checked, knowing he was being a little cruel.

“Yes! Fucking hell you are -” She sobbed as he impaled her on his thick cock and held her still, the insult she planned to spit at him forgotten as her eyes rolled back.

Her cunt held his cock in a taught clasp. A sensation of static flared under his skin as he made tiny shifts of his hips to open her up and stretch her to take him with force. Oh, her body would sing for him, primed to explode as it was. His small movements inside her turned into sharp darts of his cock that had her clinging to his shoulders. A sloppy kiss kept his own need to cum at bay as he experienced again how she melted like ice in July. He slid his hand up her thigh and paused at her knee, hiking her leg to change the angle enough to rub against that spot, making her wetness turn to a torrent of need. Still, he couldn’t make it too easy, when he felt the first pulse of her orgasm, he held her down with strength until the early flutters died out.

She was wound tighter than a reel of thread. One sudden move, and she would begin to unravel. Sobbing and distressed at being denied, she babbled “please” like a lifeline as he ignored his own lust and focused intently on her. He wished he could strap her down and drive her to the brink of insanity before giving into the want to hear her cry his name, but their restraints were back at home. She was too riled to wait for him to find something to tie her up. His sexual taunting earlier had affected her more than she wanted to admit, but he could feel it in the flood of essence drenching his cock and the raking of her nails down his skin. When she began trying to steal her pleasure, Jake pulled almost all the way out and slammed back into the hilt. Both moaned, and she was constantly making wordless noise like he’d made her forget English. He loved it and how powerful it made him feel. She liked to put on a show; her body kept him up all night more often than not, and he realized they never had been able to take things slow. Always fast, eternally burning, and all-consuming, it thrilled him.

“Use it now.” He ordered firmly, putting a good dose of authority into his tone, and she whimpered as she felt around the mattress for the toy. The quiet thrum when she turned it on seemed very loud as she worked it between their joined bodies to align it with her swollen clit. He knew she found the right setting when her inner walls clamped down on his length and tried to pull him impossibly deeper, her trembling making him shake as well.

He loved to overwhelm her. She was a force of nature in all she did and needed no one. Still, he knew she wanted him to take charge, to simply feel and not have to think for once. She always delighted in it once she let go of her pride and relinquished control, only doing so after she plucked away at his restraint to make him manhandle her. A distressed throaty whine made him smile as he taunted her with slow sensual plunges of his cock inside her flickering cunt. She was so wet, the toy was unrelenting in its efforts and her teeth were bared against the onslaught of sensations he could practically see moving through her. All he could smell was her sex and desire, a heady perfume he wanted her to wear every day. It took everything in him to ignore the tingling building low in his spine as she went rigid and arched into him, the sobs coming from her turning his lust into something sharp and dark.

“Now. Let go, or I’ll stop.” He clipped as he felt her tense and try to hold her orgasm off.

Her breath hitched as she turned the toy to a higher setting, and his thrusts became harsher to help her over the edge. He slammed into her again and again as her wail turned to a scream so ragged and raw he was proud of them both as she shattered. She attempted to move the toy away as her orgasm rolled through her, stealing his breath as her inner walls clenched around his cock, and he barked at her to stop.

“No, keep it there. One more time, you can do it.”

A helpless little sound trickled from Manon’s throat as her body jerked, and he mercilessly fucked her through it. All she knew was fire and desire so intense her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening to her. More brutal and rougher, he pounded into her and grinned down at her as she howled savagely and tried to breathe through the incredible pleasure surging through her aching body. It was too much. Her second orgasm still pulsed in her core as she felt another rising to swallow her whole. Jake sobbed above her, bending her further back, and a bite of delicious pain heightened the frenzied energy running through her veins. She couldn’t take it. Her mind fractured into jagged lines and red light, thoughts scattered like ash in the wind as his clever tongue filled her ears with praise.

“Good girl. You’re almost there. Turn it up for me.”

No, no, she couldn’t, the sucking sensation sealed around her over-sensitive clit was sending her farther into madness, but her traitorous fingers did as told, slipping over the soaked handle to find the right button to turn it up. The pattern of it changed. Every snap of his hips and the insistent suction made her thrash her head as her body convulsed. It blended into her second release, dragging it out and heightening it to a point where she could only wail and wait for the darkness at the edges of her vision to take her. Her breath came in harsh pants; his breathing was as rough as hers as he urged her on, and she gave herself over to the wildfire consuming her body and soul. She disintegrated into a million pieces like a house of cards in a hurricane. It terrified her how hard it seized her. Like she was having a fit as her mind slowly winked out, and she heard his cry of victory. Her name yelled into the sex-heavy air as he collapsed on top of her still-flailing body and smothered the noise she was making with his mouth.

Jake kissed her until she stopped kissing back. Knew she was on her way to sleep before his mouth was on hers, and he needed to soothe her before she fully slipped into a doze. Male pride at her twitchy, barely conscious body made him smile as he pulled free of her of her cunt. Tender touches to sweep her hair away from her face and wipe the sweat from her brow made her mumble his name and smile. She would sleep like the dead before long, and he knew she’d wake him for another round before they faced the outside world, so he carefully disentangled himself to go clean up. He picked up the still buzzing toy off the bed, turned it off, and took it into the bathroom to wash it off. He was done within minutes and soon crawled back into bed.

The sheets were damp with sweat and her essence. Never had he witnessed her so needy and vulnerable. Usually, he didn’t stop her from getting herself off to tide her over until she was desperate enough to let him win. She had nowhere to hide from him this time, and he’d taken full advantage. No matter where they were or what they did, they always ended up here. He thought they’d slow down after all the time they’d lived together. But somehow, it only became more apparent that they were addicted to each other and the pleasure they gifted one another. He loved it. He couldn’t wipe his satisfied smile away as he dragged the sheet over them and settled down to sleep. His last thought was that he couldn’t wait for her to get her own back and take it out on him.

**************************

Thank you so much for reading! I hope it was good. And thank you for any comments or reblogs if you feel like doing that too! I appreciate it 🥰❤️

[jackwolfes]

what projects are you working on?

ok so ive been working on a lot of little things lately, and they're like? kind of all not going anywhere? which is just how it is sometimes and i think it says more about like, my busy fucking summer & possible burn out than the state of my writing

anyway the obvious big one is sugar baby au which i've now started posting!!! so now i'm like, locked in and actually have to finish it instead of agonising about it being perfect

i've also been working more on sex shop au (currently on its third iteration because life's a nightmare) to try and like, iron out the creases and fix the bits that were making me stumble

ALSO, because it's coming up to nano im starting to think about my original projects, meaning i'm envisioning taking a lil pause on all my fic shit to go back to my 19th century lesbians for a month <3

if you'd like a fuller analysis of all my lil projects (& wanna ask about any of em), have at it:

things that i am actively working on with a view to post soon:

sugar baby au

amnesia au (ok im lying when i say 'actively working on' but i haven't forgotten about it!)

becko birthday present (birthday gift for beloved fiance!!! this shit's time bound so you Will be seeing it in september unless smth goes very wrong)

things i am actively working on but realistically won't be posting for a few months at least, assuming i finish them & don't get distracted:

sex shop au

5 times Wylan snuck out of someone’s bed (+ 1 time he stayed the night)

vampire sex but make it voyeurism (halloween here we come babeyy)

things that in theory i would like to be working on & posting soon but my brain's a nightmare:

ghezen's most special lil guy (ghezenite wylan)

jesper go nyoom (street racer au)

knights & princes (super gratuitous rich boy/bodyguard au because i am fuuuuucking self indulgent)

oh shit! this diner is haunted! (refuse to add further context bc i think it's funnier without)

heartrender hypnotherapist (grisha wylan AU & also sort of hypnokink bc an anon asked for it once)

pregnancy scare au, i guess (mostly finished actually, may or may not be anonymously posted bc it may or may not be a/b/o)

gomens au, sort of (this genuinely has some of my best writing and it's difficult to pick it back up until i am actually confident i will write well again, yknow?)

things that i really would like to finish at some point in my life but realistically won't be posting any time soon:

by the sea (really fun summery au that i am committed to keeping on my to do list but havent touched in like, a year)

enby wylan

wesper anniversary party (sequel to this)

ghost (wylan abuse study)

honeypot / club (uhhh tacky bullshit, but there's mirror sex?)

kylan fwb (is what it is)

lookout (super flowery porn)

intergalactic orgy times (space porn!)

whoops i'm predictable (they fuck in a carriage)

sexy lil TA (the one and only college AU i will ever write)

relapse fight (wesper fight and are angsty about it)

voice kink (audiobook narrator jesper anyone?)

wylan gets walked in on (is what it is)

zookeeper au (one day!! i will finish this!!!)

bonus, red white and royal blue fics that i sort of forget about until i'm compelled by the Urges and rapidly work on them in a burst of adrenaline and then forget about again:

hunger games au

cowboy au

[gggoldfinch]

brrrrrrr art dump for the tfp self insert oc my childhood self could only dream of 🤯 I drew these back in July but have been thinking about them again recently. This is so embarrassing but I'm so proud of how these character sheets came out, but I can't post them without context so here we goooooo (oc info at the bottom!!!!!!😭)

Embarrassing au & oc info time!!!!!! (tw for vague discussion of non-human self-harm in 10th bullet point):

Okay so basically to preface: in my wip fic (wip is a gross exaggeration), everything remains canonically accurate to TFP except for the fact I use my Magic Fanfic Writer Powers to incorporate ridiculous Cybertronian mysticism canon into it for the sole purpose of furthering my self indulgent plot armor via cyberforming (cyberforming being when organic material becomes that of Cybertronian-make through means of mysticism and/or science)

Marian (unabashed tradgoth self insert) starts off as human. She gets picked up by the Cons while smashed drunk one night bc they think she has info on the Bots (found her bc she was lurking on online forums asking too many questions about big robot aliens bc she once saw them brawling and wanted answers), then she just ends up being kept alive and kept around as a pet/team mascot/ emotional support human, because hey if the Bots have one then maybe humans can be of some use

After a while Marian ends up forming a bond with Starscream (and KO to a lesser extent) after they both end up treating each other with compassion and respect (wow! trauma-bonding!). She kinda definitely falls desperately in love with him (and thinks it's unrequited but jk!). Angst & hurt/comfort abound! Gratuitous usage of mass-displacement device for nsfw purposes! You didn't hear that from me...

She is accidentally killed during the Battle on Cybertron (ca. season 3) by being hit with a stray plasma blast.

Here is where AU material comes in lol!!!!!!!

With the Well of AllSparks alive once again, in an act of desperation SS leaves her body at the edge of the well and actually prays for once in his miserable life. Through a mystical act of pity or mercy or whatever, a fresh spark combines with her own approximation of a soul and cyberforms her corpse and resurrects/ reincarnates her. She's herself, with all her old memories— but also something new, with all-new potential. No one knows wtf is going on lol

She becomes the first mech created on "New" Cybertron. "Cyberform-forged" is the term used for her, making her something of a new race (in the same way the Terrans are a new race), and is more of a mystic anomaly than anything (largely because there is no opportunity to recreate the event).

She's formed with a Vosnian Seeker frame and Cybertronian alt mode. Her frame is weather resistant: built to tolerate and fly through high winds and dangerous weather (Cybertronian and Terran) and relies more on brute force than grace in aviation. This means she is bulky rather than slim and aerodynamic like SS. She's a revival of the (near?) extinct class (if we're going by Prime!canon then Starscream is the only confirmed Vosnian Seeker left). Why Primus decided that cranking out new Vosnians would be a good idea is beyond everyone; everyone is too busy wondering how tf cyberforming works and what the consequences of it are to really question it.

Physically, she's not overtly femme— more androgynous, which is on brand for her Vosnian build. She's top-heavy with large pauldrons, shoulders double the width of her hips. Her new frame reflects her old human body in a very rough, vague way— only enough to be noticeable to those who really knew her before. She applies face paint by hand like her old makeup, and paints one servo red to match how she used to wear her nail polish. She's shorter than SS, around 30-ish feet tall (whereas he pushes 35'). She doesn't have a very good grasp on how her wings emote, therefore anyone who can read Seeker body language can always tell exactly how she's feeling.

She suffers with severe ptsd, depression, and body dysmorphia/ dysphoria as a result of the cyberforming and her human death, and semi-often has moments of panic and distress wherein she self-harms in an attempt to undo what's been done. In a potent mix of lingering human neurodivergency & the jarring biological shift, she often gets overwhelmed by her new body, notably her biomechanical functions: her optics cause a significant amount of stress on a regular basis, to the point where visual "notifications" and all other miscellaneous visual obstructions have to be disabled in order for her to function. This means no scanning data, etc, without purposefully reactivating the internal procedures required for the task. She also has a lot of trouble coping with the lack of sexual dimorphism. Shortly after her "awakening," she brutalized herself due to severe confusion and psychological distress (see the second to last image :( ) and KO had to sedate and mend her.

Every who encounters her and knows her story kinda assumes she just "came back" with a processor malfunction (or if they don't know her story, think she was just traumatized by the war), which isn't totally wrong. Knockout is one of her major supporters thru this and professionally thinks she probably needs a mnemosurgeon to fix her, but can't find any to contact so soon post-war.

She's rather clumsy, and takes a while to acclimate to such a different body (it also doesn't help that Seekers tend to have disproportionally long limbs, as well as cumbersome wings). She smacks things and other mechs with her wings, crushes things in her servos, basically she severely underestimates her own strength and size

One perk to her new body is that she can stream music directly into her processor, which is a function she abuses often to drown everything else out. There are functions she couldn't even dream of before: she can disable pain processors, turn off sight and hearing like throwing a switch, disable various biomechanical functions. She doesn't need to breathe like a human, or expel waste. Energon tastes like battery acid and firecrackers, but hey, she can turn off "taste" processors too.

She's afraid of herself at times, and by extension is afraid of intimacy too. She's afraid she's too different now, in a foreign body she can't seem begin understanding. She feels burdened by expectations; she's not a real Vosnian Seeker, she's not even a real Cybertronian in the way that counts— she is a freakish amalgamation of human memories and a soul stuffed into a shell made new especially for her, despite her having had no say in the matter... Or, at least, that's what she thinks. Those closest to her think she's a miracle and are thrilled to still have her, indefinitely now. Before when she was human, SS had been frustrated and genuinely afraid of feeling anything remotely positive towards her, because of how tragically short human life spans are (and his fears had been proven valid when she was killed). Now he has Marian forever, and while coping with his own problems post-war, he cares for her and teaches her how to be a noble Seeker.

YIPPEEEEEEE

[lucky-clover-gazette]

Your writing of Volo is definitely fun to read, and your post about Volo having good intentions and deranged messages is so right. In my own fic verse (not the gratuitous Self Insert one) I feel like he's the type that seems So Normal next to his boyfriend because His boyfriend is a little Odd. But it's when his boy ISNT AROUND that he takes the kid gloves off.

Like I have plans and while he never technically relapses into being "the villain" he is not afraid to manipulate others and make questionable and non heroic choices if he thinks it'll make Haru's life easier. There's a fic far in the future that will be written where Haru trying to do what's right finally catches up to him and he pays the price so severely and Volo ends up back in the present alone and goes through his villain arc because he will do whatever he has to, to get his (by then) husband back including manipulating and "helping" the actual villain.

And in the end it'll be "Volo no don't break the seal on the insane overpowered legendary it'll kill us all." And Volo is just like "That sounds like a you problem I'm getting my husband back."

HA yeah that’s great! i think writing volo is funny for me bc i simultaneously see a lot of myself in him, but i’m also putting him in scenes with my player character. so like, we know volo is fucked up, we’re in his POV the entire time minus one chapter. but the outsider is uhhhhh not normal either, especially having been isekai’d without her consent, and that becomes more and more clear to volo/the reader as the main arc evolves. it’s like having a tiger in an enclosure and throwing in another tiger dressed like a golden retriever. the semi-defective emotional support animal vibes are matched, in that they both are very well-intending and compassionate people, but not good at being in a normal relationship or fitting in with the rest of the world. she’s called the outsider for a reason, after all ;)

i think that’s kind of the indulgent power fantasy of it, for me—the idea that an analog for myself (the outsider primarily, but also volo) could function in a healthy relationship and place where she fundamentally does not belong despite absurdly bad odds. even moreso that an analog for several people i’ve been in relationships/friendships with, someone who manipulates people they care about and has pretty severe mental issues they’re not dealing with and a strong attachment to their self-defeating religious views, could ultimately overcome those things and choose what i/the world have to offer. that’s basically the peak of self-indulgence for me, and i never half-ass anything in my writing (or anything i’m passionate about). i relate to volo in that way too :P

[benevolentgodloki]

Who are your top 10 favorite muns to write with and why? If a mun is a multimuse also tell which are your favorite characters to write with and why?

(The order in which you list the people doesn't matter unless you want to assign them specific places.)

Question Master

// Hngh, I hate playing favourites BUT since I actually only write with 12 people now I'm gonna cheat and list them all. Fair warning, my neurodivergent ass is appalling at expressing love but at least you know when I say stuff I mean it. I hope people find me friendly, but I know I'm reclusive and a bit robotic, and it's really hard to break my bubble so I don't get close to more than like 3-4 people. I digress. In no strictly particular order, but a little bit with some closer peeps!

@araedi / @compassofsouls / @minimizexaggrandize Mojitooooo. My love, my male bestie. We've written perfect pairings together across fandoms since all the way back in 2005/2006 when we first started chatting. Mojito is one of the wittiest, kindest, most creative people I know and he can blow your mind with the stories you can share. One of my two fave people to hang out with online and off. He's busy af at the moment in life but he's worth the wait. I love all the muses of his that I write with, but my special faves are his Thor, his Clint, his Scott, and his Geralt. For Loki, ofc. I have faves in Jade and Nate for my pirate boy and X/Theta for my time travelling XI. Why? I'm terrible at explaining. He gets the characterisations spot on and he's willing to explore so much range with his muses.

@forevermuses Linaaaa. My love, my female bestie. You can blame her Stephen for me kicking life back into Loki's blog after I ran rampant on Jack's for a while. Lina's superb. She writes snarky, brilliant characters, delicious plots, and juicy ships. The other of my two best on and offline peeps. Now she's a multimuse I guess I have to pick favourites so it's gonna be Stephen and Peter for Loki and Norrington for Jack but extra bonus love for Sylvie and I'm excited to write more with Sherlock and Theo. Shallow reason really for why they're my favourites but Stephen and Norrington are amazing for ships and Peter is all round hilarious. She writes him with no shame.

@kissedbymischief Trish is a sweetheart with great taste in muses :U Thoroughly recommend for indulging in magical muse exploration, gratuitous abuse of Google Translate, fandom squeeing, and splurging (ahem) out some quality smut. Super friendly mun, quality content.

@stxrksarc / @mxtalwings Archer/Iron Mun does one of the best characterisations of Tony I've ever seen and I'm loving terrorising Sam as Lokitty. Archer is a wicked funny and giving dude, open to a variety of ideas and brings so much to the table; also admirably takes no shit (a semi-colon just for him <3). Epic gif content as well as dash entertainment. Hoping life gives him a break soon!

@paragonrising / @shorndivinity Smaugieeeee. Love, love Smaugie. Friendly mun who writes a badass Carol and Sif that have Loki absolutely smitten, even if he's not revealed it yet. Quality person and writer who I can chat all sorts with especially D&D and video games. If epic plots and novella posts are your bag, very much recommend! I love her for also being forgiving that my replies are usually so smol XD

@antvnger @blindbastard @brooklynbred @cordeliabarton @mischieftomake @sonofirishseas @the-mjolnir-owner

Honourable mentions to all these lovely muns who I have fewer threads with but am enjoying the stories we're telling when we get chance and love seeing them on the dash. Friendly peeps I recommend! I have a secret no. 13 mun too but I haven't started up things with them yet so keep your eyes peeled :P

[old-stoneface]

i have posted a very self indulgent and sappy vetvimes fic about sleep deprivation in case you are interested. its pretty short. looking at it now i think its also kind of sad, but not exactly, mostly just introspective and gratuitously homosexual. title is from this song that i really like :)

[demystifiedstardust]

Fictionhood and spicy art 🌶

There's another side of the art coin that didn't get addressed in my previous post, and it's worth talking about.

Cw 18+ discussion topic, real person shipping, tmi

I think I might be one of the only fictionfolk who doesn't mind seeing myself in NSFW artwork?

Gratuitous gore and gratuitous "whump" artwork (as the kids are calling it nowadays, shakes fist at cloud) do make me uncomfortable. But overall, NSFW does not ruffle my feathers at all. Important caveat, I'm great at maintaining a blacklist nowadays, so what would be truly objectionable stuff to me rarely makes it in front of my eyes in the first place.

If anything, it feels like something I shouldn't be peeking at, but totally will anyway, not unlike a cookie jar if the cookies were instead fap material... It feels taboo, but in a decadent, gleeful way. Doesn't really matter who the pairing, dynamic, or situation is; if it's consensual between adults and not personally a squick, I don't mind being Te//yvat's whore.

I mean, fuck, I've actually commissioned NSFW of my previous fictional identity... it goes beyond Te//yvat; I'm the universe's whore. The multiverse's whore? Regardless, for me it's a no-fault way to indulge in sexual fantasy.

I've never seen anyone express a sentiment like this before. Is it because fictionfolk trend younger? Or am I really the odd one out?

Maybe it's because I've been the target of real-person-shipping in my private life, which is... a really, really weird and intrusive experience, not gonna lie! Especially being rpf'd with my ex by a third party... people are fucking weird the way they get invested in other people's relationships like that, but eventually I stopped caring outside of risks to my personal safety. I truly do not give a damn anymore about people creating a love life for me in their heads. It's weird and gross, but inevitable.

Porn tropes I dislike aside, seeing softcore or hardcore art of my fictional self feels like the opposite side of the creep coin, even though logically maybe it shouldn't. It feels weirdly empowering? It feels good to be acknowledged as a sexual being. Gender doesn't play as much of a role here as it may seem, because I felt the same way about my very female previous identity. Like, fuck yeah, people want to acknowledge me as a sexual being!? People want to see me get fucked silly and maybe even cared for after, what!? They feel so strongly about it that they're drawing it?!?

It's done from a vantage point just offset enough from my unified, whole self that it loses the creepy intrusiveness of rpf while still letting me reap the benefit of "hey that's me!". Maybe it's because the intent is different. The artists who draw Aether_(Gen//shin_Im//pact) intend to draw their interpretation of Aether rather than a particular living person, and that intent is easily read for me. It's the best of both worlds--an ego boost and enjoyable fantasy without feeling intrusive of my privacy.

Wish there were more adult fictionfolk around to discuss this kind of thing with.

[prince-liest]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤

Aw, thank you so much for sending me this! <3 I've written a lot of fics, but my favorites have definitely changed over time... some I still adore, some I have a hard time looking at for a variety of reasons. These are in no particular order, but I'm especially fond of:

Calcium Carbonate, and Other Things That Run Bone Deep - Genshin Impact, Kaeya/Albedo, Rated M for Gore

Fondly nicknamed "vivisection makeouts fic" while I was writing it, this one was a very gratuitous "Albedo's (in)humanity clashes with Kaeya's desire to save Mondstadt" meet-ugly fic that I still really enjoy as a way that I got to wring both of their brains out like sponges. I was a little nervous when posting it due to the, y'know, vivisection makeouts, but it was received with overwhelming positivity that still makes me happy to think about.

How To Lose 800 Years of Cultivation - Heaven Official's Blessing, Feng Xin/Mu Qing, Rated E for Sexual Content

At one point I discovered how good of a method intimacy is for digging around in characters' brains, and this is the fic where I truly went ham with that. Like, there's a lot of sex in this fic, but there's also a lot of picking apart Mu Qing's issues with intimacy and sexuality, class inequality, and his perception of Feng Xin, who has his own shit to deal with but still fields it all like a champ. I've reread this like five times after publishing it and will definitely reread it again.

Dish Duty - Avatar: the Last Airbender, Zuko & Katara, Rated G

This is constantly threatening The Sword of Damocles is Swinging for being my most popular SFW fic (it has fewer hits but more kudos), and I like it because I think I did a really good job with capturing the canon tone of ATLA, as well as digging into the parts of Zuko's character that I was interested in excavating in it. Plus it had a fun little plot and adventure! It just turned into a really nice, self-contained fic that did everything I wanted it to.

Meng Yao's Guide to Sex and Love - MDZS, Lan Xichen/Meng Yao, Rated E for Sexual Content

I literally just finished writing this so obviously it's fresh in my mind, and I do actually have some things I find unsatisfying about it (the chapter arrangement, mostly), but I REALLY loved writing Meng Yao's modern AU version bag of cats brain and using this fic to learn more about both his and LXC's characterizations. Also, I just really like packing in canon-parallel worldbuilding into modern AUs for xianxia danmei series, and writing JGY & WWX friendship in general. Plainly, this was fun to write. My only #ragret is that now I'm really sick of writing cis smut and want to write trans!Meng Yao.

Smolder - Genshin Impact, Zhongli/Xiao, rated E for Sexual Content

I loved this when I wrote it, but now it's been forever since I've reread it and it's one of my favorites not so much for the fic itself but for how ridiculously popular it got. Very legitimately, I was wary of writing this ship at all in a way that was explicitly Not The Healthiest, and furthermore did not expect fandom to be so positive about trans characters (especially in smut). So it's just pleasing and also hilarious to me that my self-indulgent power imbalance smut ended up

And, as an aside: I think that a lot of my favorite fics have ended up comfortably in that 20-30k word range, which is interesting. I don't really write novel-length fics anymore (and only really did so one time, though it got very popular), and I think it's partly because I really just like to concentrate on the bits I'm interested in and write around everything else, letting people fill in the blanks based on what characters think and say.

Honorable mentions:

Both of the Xue Yang fics for having pretty few hits but extremely enthusiastic comments because the SXX community is baller like that.

The Beast of Pont Vanis, the only Witcher fic I've ever written, based on a song I've enjoyed and wanted to make a story out of since literally high school.

The Shinsou's Bad Days series, may I one day have the motivation to finish you.

The fic where I buried Albedo in an avalanche and let people do the math for how many days he was stuck there based on how many heartbeats he counted and how panic-tachycardic he was.

[nimbus-bugs]

Nim Sketch Dump

as promised, here's a big sketch dump of my sona/oc nim! this isn't gonna be a popular post and I don't care 👍

I didn't originally intend to post these so I've referenced some art works heavily but I've written the name of the artist and I'll type it out too! if any of the artists see my references and is uncomfortable with it please let me know and I'll remove it from this post :D

dump under the cut!

the first ideas for his "modern design" (he's been around and recycled for a loooong time). the pose in the top right hand corner is taken from @/hiraethminds! they are a very cool artist and inspire me a lot. though the grey-ish tones as the major colour goes away I still really like the centipede tattoo, centipedes are rad as fuck and you can't tell me otherwise

I started to play with the idea of a goat design for him here! which is strange because like. that's not even his main design or motif or anything, I just really liked the idea I guess LMAO also Aurelai belongs to my mate of the same name! she's not on tumblr (yet) but you should still like her because she's cool and awesome

a treat for my qsmp enjoyers!! an unfinished short comic I sketched on the day tallulah lost her first life. the other characters in this are my old ocs, don't even worry about them

I straight up just have the image that inspired me in this one. its by @/sss-eriema and it was a gift from GOD. I was trying to sort out the colours and wanted to incorporate both orange (my favourite colour) and green (my close second favourite colour) but wasn't having much luck. eriema's artwork showed me that it can work in a more muted way and it was very very helpful!!

maid dress. sorry. also slimecicle

I started to get the colours down in the bottom right corner!! I really like this sketch page honestly. some bonus self portrait sketches because I wanted to try and put some more of my own features into his design as my sona! also in the notes I was debating between the two eye shapes and I'm still thinking about it. I think the bottom ones fit his personality more and are way more expressive but I just like the Vibe of the top ones

a lot of little drawings with varying styles! also more slimecicle. I am adhding so hard for him right now, it's concerning.

t. this one is the reason for the blood tw in the tags. I just really like drawing blood. as a treat. don't come for me this is my self-indulgent safe space leT ME BE EDGY </3 also the writing is a little hard to read so I've put it in the alt! and more qsmp doodles!

I'm starting to ditch the goat design but this one is my last hurrah. basically settled on the general colour scheme now! and more qsmp stuff. its literally gripped my brain I can't escape it, even in my personal work

then I realised. nimbus-BUGS. bugs! what if bug? this was a really fun study for using more creature features that I wasn't used to! loving the mandibles tbh

my most recent sketch as of posting! I might update this later, but this sketch page is probably the most gratuitously referenced, the expressions in the bottom left and top right were basically ripped from @/microwavablesquid so if you like those please check them out! the basic design structure of the full body was referenced from @/aresonist, retroactively I realised a lot of my design choices. uh. they also made LMAOOO so if my design in General tickles your brain, follow them!

as for his lore and basic information for what he actually Is, uhhh. ??? I don't know HAHAHA he's a little guy! he's creature! is he human? probably not but no one could say for sure! is he bugs? is he 1000 bugs in a trenchcoat? sometimes he's goat I guess??? I can never decide on a design and I think that aids his cryptid-like habits. he shows up sometimes, vibes and can't die in a way that matters! he has a running motif of my fake-God-thing, the centipede ouroboros, so I was like "what if he was a harbinger of the ouroboros, what then." and I like to imagine he has video game logic where when he dies, he basically respawns. also weirdly it's worked out in a way where he has lots of biblical motifs, like my name is literally nimbus, like the halo, and he's a messenger of a god like some fucked up blorbo angel. also lily of the valley is my favourite flower and I like drawing him with it, it also has lots of symbolism in the bible?? wild.

I sincerely doubt it but if you guys have any questions about nim or want to draw him or anything I would Die. I would just keel over. you'd take me out.

thank you so much if you got to the end of this btw!! this was a lot. seriously though, it means the world if even one person would like to see my little guy <3 have a great day and take care of yourself!

[punch-love]

do you have any tips for writing action scenes?

hard relate to your post on conflict! I love reading action in spideypool fic but I’ve been struggling to depict it well. my current wip has big gaps where the fast paced scenes are supposed to be lmao

Absolutely!

What do you actually LIKE about action? How can you replicate that in your own writing?

You should, above all, enjoy what you're writing, and to do that you have to figure out what you actually enjoy about action. I personally, enjoy very sensual, very gratuitous, very violent, borderline unrealistic (but still grounded) fight scenes and I replicate that in my writing. Think about the last three action scenes you enjoyed in a movie, show, or book - watch them (or, think about them) and pick out what actually stands out in your head. Is it the dialogue? Is it the engagement with the environment? The tension between the characters? Is there a way that you can replicate that in your own writing? If you're bored, then the audience is bored so you, above all else, have to cater to your own tastes and most importantly, know what those tastes are.

2. Action = intimacy

I personally don't think there's much of a different between writing porn and action, and that's because both involve two people doing something with their bodies that we don't do with the majority of the people we know. It's intimate to fight someone, regardless of whether you have any actual connection to them or not. You're putting your body on their body, and usually, in context, trying to kill or harm them with it. It's important to remember that intimacy when you're writing for a fight scene, not only for character work, but because your reader is going to be a lot more interested in the violence if it actually means something outside "we're punching, we're kicking, we're punching and kicking - " if your character is fighting a villain of the week then it's okay to pivot that intimacy just to the protagonist - how does this fight makes them feel? why are they fighting the way they are? what does this say about them as a character?

3. Will the audience be able to follow what is happening?

One of the best compliments I get about my action scenes is that people tell me that they are easily able to follow what is happening in the scene in their heads. This is very intentional on my part because growing up, 8/10 times I would skip action scenes in books because I either found them boring, irrelevant to my interests, or just borderline impossible to follow. A fight is like a dance: you don't necessarily have to understand how they're doing it, but you want to be able to enjoy the show. It's important to re-read your fight scenes and play them out in your head like a movie, or - even better - get another person to read it and tell you if they were able to follow along.

4. Is it fun? Is there a way to make it MORE fun?

I think action should indulgently fun as often as possible! I think if you're not used to writing action it can feel like kind of a narrative chore that is required to get from point A to the "fun stuff" and if you write it like that, you and your audience will not enjoy reading it. This kind of goes back to point 1, but you should really enjoy writing your action scenes if possible and the best way to do that if, of course, know what you enjoy. If you don't like action at all, then this is a good opportunity to explore what you DON'T like in action, and making a point not to include it in your work.

5. Action as a conversation.

This ties into action = intimacy but non-verbal communication is a great way talk about (and through) your character. There are a lot of things you can say in a fight scene without actually having your characters verbalize it. Body language, reaction, inaction, over action, violence, avoidance of violence, etc. All of these things are communicating something about the character AND communicating something to the character fighting them. When you're writing a fight scene, go in with the idea that this is an opportunity to showcase different aspects of your character that they would never verbally communicate.

6. Fighting Really Hurts

I think that what really grounds a fight is showing a person physically reacting to the effort it takes to continuously take or deliver a beating. I see a lot of people write scenes that hyper focus on the resulting injuries from a fight - but just fighting takes a lot of effort too! Is your character out of breath, are they sore, are they feeling overextended? Did running across five rooftops take a lot of them? Do they even want to fight anymore? This also applies emotionally: are they comfortable with violence? can they live with the aftermath? does this line up with their morals? are they uncomfortable? are they too comfortable? These are all good questions to ask (and answer) during a fight scene.

[walkawaytall]

Apparently at some point a few weeks back, some unhinged part of me was like, “Let’s Midnight Sun my own fanfiction” and I started writing a scene from Purpose of Heritage from Han’s POV. Which is, like, fine I guess, but I cannot decide if it adds enough perspective for me to at least finish the scene up and post it as a very self-indulgent extra, or if it is gratuitous in every sense of the word.

[haldora]

20 questions for fic writers

Got tagged by @inkpot-demigod! Took me a while to get around to it, but it was fun to fill this out, even if I'm not much of a writer anymore.

how many works do you have on Ao3? 13

2. what’s your total Ao3 word count? 122,503

3. what fandoms do you write for?

Most of my fics are Babylon 5, but the latest fandom I wrote more than one fic for was Pathologic.

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

Despite most of my work being for B5, my top 5 fics are mostly for other fandoms, probably because of differences in overall fandom size. 1. Postprandial (Gotham) My sole fic for the fandom and probably the most indulgent thing I've ever written. I'm gonna be real here and say that I have a conflicted relationship with this fandom because I, uh... do not like the show and have little to no interest in DC media otherwise, but it was one of those things where a certain ship grabs me by the balls heart and pulls me into a deeply cringe obsession. But being cringe is the only way to make art, especially the kind of intensely gratuitous, unselfconscious, and joyful art that this turned out to be, and I'm still very fond of this fic and happy with the reception it got. It's my most popular work by far despite being a niche kink, which has contributed to me feeling a lot less self-conscious about my interests in general. 2. Shadowshow (Pathologic) A compilation of fics written for the Pathologic Kink Meme featuring a bunch of different characters and ideas. While I have no way of knowing which fic most of the kudos are in response to, I have a feeling that the fic with the most broad appeal is probably the Burakhovsky sex pollen twyre fic, which was a lot of fun to write. With porn tropes like this, I have a lot of trouble keeping a straight face, so I tried to lean into the silliness while keeping things broadly in character and I still like the result. It ended on a sequel hook, too, which I'm still surprised that nobody on the kink meme grabbed to follow up on. I'm generally very fond of these fics because they're symbolic of a really fun time in my life and the best fandom community I've ever participated in. <3 Patho Blocklist alumni 2020 represent 3. Suffer Your Excess (B5) This was the first B5 fic I'd ever posted and my first serious attempt at fanfiction in a long time. I still have a lot of nostalgia attachment to it and I see why people like it, but ultimately I think I explored similar themes a lot better in subsequent fics. But this was still vital practice in getting my bearings in a new fandom. 4. A Golden Autumn (Pathologic)

Ah, my tragically incomplete Burakhovsky longfic that I still have all outlined and plotted out and just never continued. I always have lots of ideas for long multichapter fics, but almost never allow myself to start them because I almost always burn out or get distracted by other things and then it haunts me for the rest of my life. Maybe one day I'll continue it, but I've come around to feeling like it was a product of the early Patho fandom and a lot of the themes and ideas in it have since been thoroughly explored by much better writers than me, which puts a damper on my enthusiasm, alas.

5. Every Shining Thing (B5)

Always happy to see this one breaking the top 5 because although it's one of my older fics, it still holds up for me. The fandom being as small as it is means that I can keep up with the tag pretty easily and while there's amazing stuff still happening, I can't say I've seen another fic with similar themes crop up in the fandom and while I of course would love to see other people exploring these ideas, it's kinda cool to be the person who wrote the definitive fic on this topic. When I'm feeling down on myself and wondering whether I'll ever manage to write substantively again, this is one of the fics I look to to remind myself of what I'm capable of.

5. do you respond to comments?

Yes! I love getting comments and try to respond to all of them.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I tend not to go for unambiguously happy or sad endings. I prefer something more bittersweet. A speck of light in the darkness or a note of unease in an otherwise harmonious resolution. But I think Open Wound, a Londo centered character study during one of the darkest periods in canon, has a pretty bleak ending.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

False Dawn, probably. A Londo/G'Kar fic that takes place in a happier fix-it AU. The closest I ever get to writing fluff. An objectively low stakes material problem with somewhat higher emotional stakes that ends on a pretty feel-good high note.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Never directly on my fics, thankfully, but I've been sent a few death threats and attempts at suicide-baiting for writing some of the things I do and supporting others who do so. I take it as a point of pride. <3

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes. Most of my work has some erotic undertone even if it's not explicitly sexual. I'm open to a lot of things and while I do have very strong interests in certain kinks, what I'm drawn to when writing tends to be more related to a certain character dynamic and the unique possibilities it offers. So basically, I write the smut I think is the most IC for whatever characters I'm writing and whatever serves as the best vehicle for the ideas I'm trying to get across. Which isn't a very interesting answer, but it's true.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

No. I prefer really diving into the specificities of a certain world and trying to deepen and intensify the ideas that are already there rather than trying to combine it with other things to make new ones. If I ever get to thinking that elements from different canons would be really interesting to see combined, that usually ends up as a launchpad for original worldbuilding rather than contemplating crossover possibilities.

11. has any of your work been stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! I've had a few of my B5 fics translated into Russian by some wonderful folks and posted on FicBook! I always love going there and google translating all the comments. <3

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not really? I used to do a lot of RP, which is a similar activity, but not quite the same thing. I guess the closest I've come is some collaborative kink meme stuff where different writers build on each other's work. One of the fics in my Shadowshow Patho compilation is a kink meme fill that's framed as a sequel to a fill that someone else had written (and I'm still super flattered they liked it <3).

14. What’s your all time favorite ship?

Man, I have a new one like every month. Judging by my fic output, though, I think Londo/G'Kar (B5) is still my ultimate OTP. Love that toxic old man xeno.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

See Question 4 :c Aside from that, I've got a couple half-finished Patho kink meme fills I'd been working on that just never got done and they sit in a folder on my computer taunting me.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Voice. Character voice is often what makes or breaks a fic for me and it's a skill I consider especially vital for fanfic specifically. I care a lot about it and, according to the comments I get, it pays off. Character dialogue is where most of the action happens in my stories and it's something I put a lot of effort into, both in the sense of 'would they say this?' and 'how would they say it?'

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing :)

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

Is there controversy about this? If you're writing a multi-lingual character who speaks multiple languages in canon, then part of writing them IC is going to be replicating that, so yeah, break out your dictionaries and put out calls for fluent beta-readers. AO3 actually has some great tools for implementing this. I used hover-text for translations when doing some conlanging for a B5 fic and it worked really well.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Ooh, tough question. I started writing Sailor Moon fanfiction in paper notebooks in elementary school way back in dinosaur times. Never posted any of it, though.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Ahh, this is hard! I'm gonna be a shameless shill and mention the favourites I think are underappreciated, both B5.

First is The Sayonese Affair, which is the longest fic I've ever completed and am still very pleased with. It's a post-canon fix-it AU political comedy-of-manners. Porn with plot. If you can stomach the tags, I'd highly recommend it.

Next is Accidents of Gesture, a lengthier one-shot that stands as the fic that gets to the heart of what I love about this canon and this ship. It's got some painful conversations, some hurt/comfort, and musings on the nature of forgiveness. I tag... @ibenholt, @emblazonet, @wescravings, @strangestquiet, @gloriousmonsters and whoever else wants to do this!

[desertfangs]

Words: 8981 Relationships: Armand/Daniel Molloy, Armand/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Lestat de Lioncourt/Louis de Pointe du Lac, Daniel Molloy/Marius de Romanus (ALL OF THEM LOL) Characters: Daniel Molloy, Armand (Vampire Chronicles), Lestat de Lioncourt, Marius de Romanus, Louis de Pointe du Lac, Rose (Vampire Chronicles) Additional Tags: sometime at court not too long after prince lestat, Blood Drinking, Mild Smut, Mild Blood Smut, Silly, Fluff and Humor, Humor, Romantic Fluff, this is just silly fluff i offer no apologies, Self-Indulgent, POV Daniel Molloy, Vampire Daniel Molloy, Post-Canon, or at least late canon while ignoring some of the last books, we don't do aliens in this house, unless it's marius getting increasingly angry at the inaccuracies and bullshit of ancient aliens, Light Angst, but very light Summary: Armand is throwing a New Years party at court at Lestat's request, and Daniel is trying to avoid being there for too long, lest he get conscripted into a job. But maybe there's a place at court for him after all.

I'm going to level with you: this is entirely silly self-indulgent fluff. It started with two ideas that I thought were hilarious and I cackled like mad the whole time I was writing this. The angst is only Daniel trying to find his place at court. Armand and Daniel are getting along, which is a thing I do believe actually happens lol. I just needed a distraction and some sweet and soft Armand/Daniel fluff for the end of the year, and this is what happened. I hope if you read it, it makes you laugh and/or smile.

And don't worry, if gratuitous humorous fluff is not your bag, I have some angsty stuff in the pipeline. ;) (Which is why I need stuff like this to remind me they did get their happy ending.)

So anyhow, silly fluff for now to close out 2022 and here's to 2023 being less of a shitshow than the past few years, hm?