#but I am just trying to be proud of my good time and for getting an undeniable PR

[keferon]

Ok i said i would do itater, but this was done for my sister who got really hurt and wanted comfort out of my drabble, shout out to you @saltynsassy31 XD

This will probably be very OOC bc again, i am NOT too acquainted with these characters

So apologies in advance, but i think this will still be very entertaining for you :]

So yeah, here's part 2!

---

Jazz was tired, they haven't given him much time to rest since he came back. And even if they did, it's not like he could rest anyways, thinking about....about Prowl.

No way he could have just left him, right? After everything....it just didn't feel right, and the way they spoke to him about it too. Call him crazy but something in his gut told him they were hiding something from him. But it just never seemed enough to push him to look into it (oh how he would regret that for the rest of his life)

Today was supposed to be a normal routine check to the new mechas, with new recruits coming in for him to teach.

Jazz was given a new mecha suit, despite his protests to it (which surprised even him honestly, but it just didn't feel right). He hadn't gotten the chance to see it yet, today was the day they would present the new model, though it was said to be in its early stages still.

...

He doesn't know how it happened, how he'd gotten here, but all he knew was that he had seen red. When he gotten to see his new mech suit, it seemed oddly familiar in touch, in fact something about it made him feel sick to his stomach.

Small dents and scarring coated the plating around the panels that opened to the cockpit. He recognised that plating, from crawling on it with his magnets, sleeping on them comfortably despite being made of metal (there was something so warm about it, but that warmth was....lost. He wanted to puke). But what broke the string holding him together, a scar, a scar so familiar it sent him back to the exact moment he witnessed his partner getting it in the first place.

Jazz had weilded that shut himself, they had gotten in a bad scuffle a while back, and with worry he wanted to try and make sure Prowl wouldn't be in too much pain before they could get some proper help.

"Jazz?" Someone called out to him. That was the last thing he remembered.

Now? Now he stood by the halls in which they didn't allow the likes of him inside, the halls in which the scientists worked on. He made a fast dash to the last room, the room one of the scientists told him had the one he was looking for (though he wasn't proud to admit he had perhaps aggressively gotten that answer out of the poor guy). He had a weird unknown blaster weapon with him that he had ripped from the mech suit he was supposed to try out (deep down, he hoped that weapon didn't belong to Prowl. He hoped that he wasn't too late), using that, he blasted the door open hoping that would keep anyone from stopping him from getting inside.

As soon as Jazz layed his eyes on the scene before him; his partner hanging from wires holding him into place, chain keeping him from leaving, mutilated almost beyong recognition save his face, and with a small weak staticked cry from his partner, "Jazz?" the small bit of awarness he had gained back was gone again. All he could do in that moment was to yell, a desperate cry that came from the pits of his lungs.

"GET AWAY FROM MY PARTNER!"

And in another flurry of motions he didn’t have complete control over, he was beating the ever living hell out of the prick who decided it was a good idea to mess with HIS partner! He didn’t even know how long he had been at it until the twisted man he called a boss scratched his face, small bits of blood flowing out. In shock and pain, he grabbed the man by the neck of his shirt and threw him to the otherside of the room. Once he was certain that he wouldn't be getting up again, he turned to face Prowl once more, running and calling out to him as he ran to scoop up his beloved's face, blurting out a mess of an apology.

"I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have brought you here- we, we need to get you out-"

Oh did the guilt eat him up from the inside, he- he shouldn't have brought him here. Prowl probably hated him right now, but the sudden distant bell of an alarm down the halls had him scrambling to his feet to try and make things right.

Suddenly, as adrenaline slowly faded off, he realised how much damage he had actually taken throughout his rampage, a limp on his left leg catching up to him. Stinging pain on his face and limbs, but he needed to keep moving, they weren't safe yet.

"I have to get you to a safe place," he mumbled, mostly to himself, "and- and then maybe call for help. Oh but who could i even go to?" As he spoke, he started to set Prowl's limbs free from it's chains, gods they were so damaged, he could barely look at the missing parts. But as he worked his way through, he let out small sighs of relief to see that at least, he seemed to not be missing some vital parts. He could still maybe make a run for it, if only he could stall the facility long enough-

"You really shouldn't have...."

Jazz turned in shock, Prowl's voice snapping him out of his panicked haze.

"Prowl..." if he wasn’t crying already, now he certainly was. Gods he fucked up badly.

Not having the courage to face the other just yet, he turned back to the chained leg he had been working on. Prowl didn't seem to have wanted an answer either way, sitting up as he watched the organic do his work (Jazz tried to ignore the missing arm).

As he finished getting rid of the chain, he got up again, letting out a hiss of pain from his injuries (which did not go unnoticed by the mech). Clutching his left side as a bleeding cut let out a terrible stinging sensation which he doesn't think he'll ever get used to, he walked over to the final limb stuck under chains. As he walked over, he briefed over the quick plan he thought of

"Look, i- i know you might not trust me right now-" a huff, almost soundling like a disbeliefing chuckle, was heard from the mech, Jazz ignored it. "But there is a place you can go to and hide, hide- hide until maybe i can get help or- or find a way to send you back-"

"You wouldn't make it that far." Prowl spoke, matter of factly, which got a hit under Jazz's skin

"I know that! Which is why you will make a run for it. There's an exit by the other side of this room where you can leave-"

A sudden realisation hit Prowl. Jazz wasn't planning on coming with him.

And the human nodded, seeming to understand that Prowl finally got what he was saying. As he reached the last final screw to Prowl's chains, he finished off what he was trying to say "I'll keep them busy long enough for you to leave," before he could finish, as the final screw was let lose and Prowl was free to move, he felt himself be lift up from the ground and let out a startled yelp. "Wha- HEY!"

It took Jazz being shoved inside Prowl's cockpit for him to realise that he had been picked up by the mech (maybe a possible concussion he thought to himself). Jazz couldn't even try to jump out as, despite it missing the plating to shut him inside, Prowl placed his servo up to close to exit.

Desperately and confused, Jazz called out, "What are you doing?!"

To be entirely honest, Prowl wasn't sure himself, he was just as confused as the human to his actions, usually so full of logic. This one was acted apon pure emotion. Emotion of fear, anxiety, anger but most importantly

Desperation

Because somehow, this stupid human had his spark between his fingers, and he'd be dammed if he let him get himself killed just for him.

This isn't how he would want to say goodbye

---

Thanks again, to my sister who pushed me to write this, and also helped out in some parts!

Might have done more if i could, but it's super late rn lol (it's 4am and our mon will kills us for staying up this late).

Again sorry for any OOC moments, but i hope this was to your enjoyment! Maybe i can do a part 3 to this, but idk enough about how things work to do that, so i let anyone be free to mess around with this :]

Oh my... oh fuck I can't. I just keep thinking about Prowl pressing his palm on his chest even when other humans eventually get to him and start shooting. He's a mess, half of his armor is missing he's probably leaving an energon trail behind him. But he knows that while it would take a lot of bullets to take him down, it would take only one lucky bullet to kill Jazz. I'm. AUGh

[illbegottenfaith]

lucky pt 2 - theo nott x reader

after the Felix Felicis incident, your relationship with theo has dramatically changed, for better and for worse

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

a/n - by popular demand! rip my title tho the best alternative I could come up with was ‘feminine ass-kicking’ but idk if that’s too out there. also I’ve started part 3 too! (which should be the final part) this was kind of inspired by gilmore girls season 6 :)

tropes/warnings - academic rivals to lovers, angst, slow burn, miscommunication

word count - 2.1k

The Felix Felicis incident had given the both of you much to think about. Outwardly, you maintained the appearance that nothing had changed between the two of you, taking snipes at each other every now and then. But every night, before you’d fall asleep, your mind would wander back to that evening at the Astronomy Tower, the sight of Theo and the harsh contours of his face softened by the forgiving setting sun. Every night, he asks if you have anything else to say. Every night, you shake your head.

And as much as you’d like to pretend otherwise, things had changed between you. Theo became more reserved, somehow, less determined to spar with you. Your fights didn’t hold anywhere near the spark they once did. And you hated it. You hated that it bothered you, you hated that it upset you, you hated that it was all you could think about every time you were in the same classroom as him. It just wasn’t fair.

What also wasn’t fair was your entire group falling sick the day before an extremely crucial Potions project was due. They were all more than apologetic, but it didn’t change the fact that months worth of work to complete in one night if you wanted even a semblance of a chance at passing.

Which was how Theodore Nott found you in the library late one night, pouring over five gnarly tomes on Potions from the Medieval era, writing what looked like three essays at once. You flinched when you heard a noise near the bookshelves, and your mood wasn’t much improved when you saw who it was.

“Trying to read every book in one night, L/N?”

You wanted to roll your eyes. After weeks of stunted conversation, now that it was just the two of them, he was suddenly feeling chatty?

“I'm busy. Buzz off.”

Ignoring you, Theo crept closer, tilting his head to read what you were haphazardly scribbling.

“The Potions project? But we started that months ago. And it’s due tomorrow.”

You swept the papers up out of his sight. You were already in a testy mood to begin with and you were in no mood to have him crow over your bad luck.

“What part of ‘buzz off’ don’t you get?”

“Where are your groupmates?”

“Sick.”

“Sick?”

“They all went on some Hogsmeade trip together, the whole lot of them. They all caught it from each other and they’re supposed to be stupidly contagious.”

“But their reports should be fine.”

“They were, until Madam Pomfrey declared them a biohazard.” Your head was beginning to hurt from the bottled-up frustration. You knew it wasn’t their fault for falling sick, but now you had to pull an all-nighter just so you wouldn’t fail. You stood and walked past him to the shelves, pulling out any and every book that remotely looked like it might help. 

You glanced at the clock, mentally calculating how much time you’d need. There was no way you could get it all done by 9 am. Feeling quite proud of yourself for successfully giving Theo the same cold shoulder he had been giving you the past couple of weeks, you walked to the library telephone and started dialing the number to Slughorn’s office. One of the only people who could help you now was Jeeves, Slughorn’s teaching assistant, provided he was in a good enough mood.

“Jeeves, hi. Yes, I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you could delay the Potions project submission by just an hour? I’m sure Slughorn wouldn’t mind. It’s just my entire team fell sick all at once, and Madam Pomfrey threw out everything they’ve touched in the past three days, including their reports. I know it's due 9 am but couldn’t you bend the rule a little, just this once? For me?”

You rubbed your forehead anxiously, an unpleasant expression on your face as you tried to follow whatever Jeeves was yammering about punctuality. When he moved on to the importance of personal accountability, you felt like you were going to combust if you didn’t shut him up soon.

“Y’know, Jeeves,” you interrupted with a dramatic sigh, dropping your voice, “just the other day I was thinking about that one Quidditch match you had played a couple of years back. Yes, that one game you subbed in for the Chaser? I have to say, you’re no slouch yourself out on the pitch. You sure look like you know your way around a broom. Yes, exactly, way better than those oafs on the team. I always thought it was a shame you didn’t make the cut - one hour. Yes, yes, that’s all I need. Thank you, thank you!”

You hung up, already feeling much more hopeful with the one-hour extension. All that was left to do was slave away for the rest of the night, and by morning you’d have a more than acceptable report ready.

“…what was that?”

You started, having nearly forgotten who was with you. “What was what?” You asked, half-distracted, once again absorbed in rearranging the layout of your Potions project.

“That, with the - ‘you look like you know your way around a broom?’ Really?”

You glanced at Theo, frowning. “Well, how do you get what you want?”

You turned your gaze back to the book splayed out in front of you, missing the brief look of longing that passed over Theo’s face. “Hmm. Bribery, mainly.”

“Right,” you said slowly, a hint of sarcasm in your tone underneath the flurry of activity. “That trust fund isn’t going to spend itself, now is it?”

“My trust fund doesn’t kick in ‘til I’m 25, tesoro.”

You wanted to kick yourself when your heart fluttered over the stupidly endearing pet name. You didn’t realise how much you missed it. “Oh, oh, of course. Mr. Moneybags here is just absolutely rolling in it even without his trust fund. How could I forget?”

“Mr. Moneybags? That’s the best you can come up with?”

You huffed without any real annoyance. You walked over to where Theo was lounging as he lazily watched you spin like a top between the bookshelves. He had the decency to sit up slightly as you approached and dumped the stack of papers into his lap.

“Look, Nott, I’m on a time crunch here. So either help me or get out.”

Theo looked up at you without a trace of mockery in his otherwise teasing blue eyes. You willed yourself to not look away. 

“Yes, ma'am.”

You made the mistake of holding his gaze. A beat passed, then two. It seemed that it was surprisingly impossible for either of you to look away. Finally, you snapped out of it, mentally giving yourself a good shake as you hurried out of his magnetic field back to the table. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have thought you were flirting with him.

“Wha -?”

“Toast. From breakfast.”

You glanced around the room bleary-eyed, seizing Theo’s wrist a little harder than necessary as you blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As much as you hated to admit it, last night had gone better than you could have ever hoped. It helped to have another pair of hands and a brain that was almost as good as yours. Unfortunately, you must have nodded off at some point, 

Cursing as you finally made out the time on his watch, you peeled off the piece of parchment stuck to your face and continued writing, even as every muscle in your palm protested. Theo rolled his eyes and stuck the toast in your mouth, which you mindlessly nibbled on for the next hour or so. 

When you were finally done, you stuck your group’s names on the cover page and the two of you hurried down to Slughorn’s office a little before 10 o clock. Jeeves, good man that he was, was still in. But your relief was short-lived.

Jeeves did an insufferably exaggerated impression of reading the time as you walked in. “It’s 2 past 10. I’m afraid I can’t accept your submission.”

This was it. You reached your limit. You weren’t running on what was at most 2 hours of sleep just for some self-important dimwit of a teaching assistant to refuse your submission.

You grabbed the collar of Jeeves’ shirt, manhandling him with hours' worth of frustration. “Listen here, Jeeves. You will accept my group’s submission if you want to walk out of here with every part of your anatomy intact. You will take these essays I have here and you will accept them graciously, Merlin help you if you don’t.”

“What happened to using your feminine wiles?” asked Theo, thoroughly enjoying himself.

“Yeah, well, now I’m more in the mood for a feminine ass-kicking. Jeeves, come on. ”

You only released him when Theo placed a calming hand on your wrist. He reached into his pocket, offering something to a very red-faced and highly affronted Jeeves.

“C’mon, Jeeves. Maybe we could make this more worth your while.”

You hesitated, torn. On the one hand, you were raised better than to bribe people or accept financial aid, especially when you didn’t really need it. On the other hand, this project was worth 40% of your grade and Jeeves was being a little bitch. 

Jeeves mulled over the coins in his palm, taking his sweet time appraising them. Just as it looked like he was about to ask for something a little more, you slammed a hand on his desk.

“Alright, fine, hand it over.”

Once you’d finally successfully submitted your project, the two of you walked out of Slughorn’s office in a daze. Without the stress of the impending deadline to act as a buffer between you, a certain awkwardness started to set in. Theo had his hands in his pockets, rubbing at a scuffed patch on the floor with his shoe.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you started, but he waved off your protests. Still, no one pulls an all-nighter for just about anyone.

“So how much did you give him?”

Theo sighed. “L/N.”

But you were already pulling out your coin purse. “It can’t have been more than what I have on me now.”

“Y/N.” You stopped counting out your coins. He was looking at you strangely, like he didn’t understand what he was doing either. “Forget it. Really.”

Reluctantly, you pocketed your coin purse. A hysterical sort of giddiness was starting to set in. “We did it.”

“You did it.”

Maybe it was the long night of endless writing or your grumbling stomach. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation. Or maybe it was the way he was looking at you now, with a smile so sincere like he was genuinely so proud of you. Whatever it was, you took a step towards him, and then another before throwing your arms around his neck.

It was a little less dignified than you would have hoped, what with you trembling with barely any sleep and the vestiges of caffeine-induced adrenaline and him having the audacity of being a whole head taller than you since sixth year. But he steadied you before you could tip back, his arms resting around your waist. You had never shaken hands, much less hugged each other, but something about it felt so warm, comforting, familiar. The feel of his solid body pressed against yours didn’t feel so terrible.

But as you pulled apart, you caught sight of his expression, and your face fell. He wasn’t smiling like you, not anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” you blurted out, immediately feeling like the biggest idiot in the world. He still wasn’t smiling, but he didn’t look angry either. He looked - you couldn’t tell how he looked. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear almost regretfully, before turning to leave.

“Don’t.”

Theo paused. He didn’t turn to face you.

“Don’t do this, Nott. Don’t be cold. Don’t be distant.”

He adjusted the shoulder strap of his satchel. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was nervous. “I have Charms to get to.” He turned his head slightly but not enough to meet your gaze. “You should get a proper breakfast.”

And then he left, as if he had no idea what you were talking about. As if the last twelve hours hadn’t occurred. As if he hadn’t felt the void festering between you the past couple of weeks.

As if he didn’t care about you.

[soaked4mk]

Wade Wilson Boyfriend HeadCanons

👽:slowly but surely getting back into my writing 💅🏼 (not proof read just super horny like a clown 🤡 HONKAH HONKAH)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

SFW ♥️

★ Wade is a silly guy. So silly in fact, he’ll crack jokes or shoot a sarcastic comment your way—mid argument. “How am I supposed to listen when you look this good right now?” Fear not! Because he knows when to shut up. (When you tell him to)

★ Bro defo has a Roblox account. Not elaborating.

★ Despite his chaotic and reckless behavior, Wade is actually super protective and would go to extreme lengths to keep you safe. And then some. “Hey! Back off! Don’t you fuck with her! Unless you wanna fuck with me too. In that case we’ll need a sit down discussion for—“ “WADE!” “Right—sorry.”

★ Expect big, wild romantic gestures. Like standing outside your window while holding up a boom box. (playing ‘what you won’t do for love’ by Bobby Caldwell) or (attempting at) writing your name with fireworks. (There were definitely ‘unexpected’ explosions)

★ “I know it’s only Tuesday, but I totally, legally rented a helicopter so we can pretend we’re in the aveng—no? Okay…plan B then: Breakfast in bed with (penis) questionable pancakes.”

★ Cuddle bug Wade. Are we surprised? This man lives off of physical touch and affection. Wrapping you up in his arms, not letting you go with a shit eating grin. “Nope, you’re not leaving this couch. We’re practicing the ancient art of Wade Wrapping, which requires at least three hours of cuddles, just sayin.”

★ He is nonstop teasing you. It’s a hobby for him, really. (And his love language) Coming up with silly nicknames for you, challenging you to random games or chores, he’s not below making fun of himself to see you smile either.

★ “Oh-ho? You think you can wipe the track with me in Mario kart? That’s cute.” “Honey—you look fine. Approachable even. Unlike me…” (he says while laying limbless on the bed. Literally….)

★ Uses his dark humor to comfort you in times of ‘what the actual fuck?’ Knowing how to turn even the bleakest of moments into something a little lighter. “Hey, I know life might suck granny tits right now…but at least we’re not in a rom-com where one of us has to die or something worse for the other to grow emotionally, right?”

★ Unwaveringly supportive of you in any conflict. He is going to take your side. Every. Single. Time. Backing you up even if he has literally no idea what’s going on or why. “You said Rick was out of line at work today? Well guess who’s getting a strongly worded letter in the form of interpretive dance in the parking lot?” “Is it Ri—“ “it’s Rick.”

★ Wade loves experimenting in the kitchen with you! Attempting to make meals that sometimes end up in hilarious disasters, followed up by a take out order.

★ He breaks this…’fourth wall’ sometimes. Like looking off into the distance and talking to an invisible audience or camera while addressing you. This dead ass bewilders you at times. But mostly you roll your eyes at his antics.

★ “Can you believe this shit?” He’ll ask, turning to an imaginary audience. “I’m over here being the perfect boyfriend—funny, handsome, protective, all that—and you guys still think Peter Parker is the ‘Ideal Boyfriend’ pffft. Get real.” *turns back to you* “anyway, where were we?”

★ This overgrown man child is a PDA enthusiast. Unashamed of hugging, kissing, or trying to dip you during a playful dance in public. He doesn’t care, he’s proud to be with you and wants everyone to know it. “You know what this sidewalk needs? A spontaneous make out session”

★ One hundred percent would insist on wearing matching or theme outfits. Whether it’s full on costumes or something little like matching socks. “Ta-Da! Matching Taco Cat shirts—no, no. Don’t fight it. This is how we show the world we’re a team. Through peak fashion choices.”

★ Loves movie nights. They’re full of commentary, with your boyfriend narrating or making fun of the movie plots. He’d insist on watching rom-coms or action movies for sure.

★ You’ll receive unconventional love letters in the form of doodles, short jokes, or notes saying “I love you more than The Golden Girls. And that’s saying something. ;)”

★ Wade is a pretty chill dude. He’s not overboard with jealousy. But that won’t stop the man from making his classic (not so jokey) jokes when he feels like someone might be getting too close to you. “Oh, flirting? With you? Cute. Should I go over there and casually mention that I’m the love of your life and also really good with sharp objects?”

★ Beneath all the jokes and chaos, he has moments of genuine, heartfelt affection. Whispering his love and gratitude for you at unexpected times. “I know I never take shit for real. But I’m serious about you, about us. You’re my safe space, the one part of my life that makes sense on this stupid chunk of rock floating in space.”

★ Remembers odd little details about you. Showing it with unexpected gifts that align perfectly with your interests. (Even if they’re a bit off beat.) “I saw this super limited edition action figure of (favorite character). I had to get it for you—don’t ask me how, just say thank you and let’s run—“

★ Randomly belting out terrible renditions of love songs at the top of his lungs, just to get a laugh from you.

★ Acts tough for your amusement, like he’ll pretend to be all macho around your friends to make you laugh. “Yeah babe, I’m like, indestructible. Just gotta…” *struggles to open a jar of pickles* “wait—hold on. This jar is definitely cheating…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

NSFW 🍆💦

★ Wade love love LOVESSS making you watch while playing with your pussy. Using his mouth, fingers and all kinds of cute little toys.

★ Tying your hands together, behind your back and sitting you in front of the mirror with your legs spread wide as he slowly circles your clit with a bullet vibrator, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. “You see how fucking wet you are for me, baby?” “Look. At. This~” “did I say to look away? Didn’t think so…”

★ He’s into all kinds of crazy shit—high key an exhibitionist.

★ Fucking you in a theatre bathroom, pressing you up against the stall while he covers your mouth, dipping the head of his cock teasingly into your aching cunt.

★ “I don’t give one shit if someone hears us, I need you. Now.” “Shhh baby, gotta stay quiet if you wanna cum.” “Stay still now…”

★ Eating you out in the back of the car, hands kneading your plush thighs while looking up at you with that knowing, shit-eating grin. Not even bothering to wipe you from his chin.

★ Struggling to keep your eyes on the man, a red flush taking over your face as the vibrations of his groans send shocks of pleasure through your entire body.

★ Fingering you under the table/using a remote control vibrator on you when you’re out having dinner. “Yeah that’s it for me and uh, what about you babe?” He asks nonchalantly, as if he weren’t bumping the bullet to its highest intensity or running his fingers over your panty clad pussy. All the tasty stuff. It’s the thrill of almost being caught for him.

★ Baby girl also LOVES when you take control. Straddling him, tying him up to the bed, slapping his face. He’s fucking into it.

★ F-fuckk~ wan—wanna touch you so bad~” he whimpers, hips bucking involuntarily while you ride him, bouncing in his lap with your hands on his shoulders and his cuffed. “Mmff—need to cum…please, please—I’ll do whatever you wa—aaah, fffuck!”

★ Wade loves to buy you new toys/lingerie sets all the time! He’ll come through the door with a bag full of new things to try out or on. “Oh, come on—put the bunny ears on…I’ll let you do that one thing you like.”

★ Costumes, dressing up, role play. Cops and robbers, Professor and student, Master and pet. He loves that shit and has a lot of fun with it.

★ “You have the right to remain silent, on your knees, now.” He’ll smirk, cuffing your hands behind your back, trailing a finger down your cheek before fucking your face. “Cock hungry bitch, aren’t ya? Such a good girl…” he croons, pulling at your leash.

★ “You call that begging, honey? Hate to break it to you sweetheart, but you’re gonna have to be louder than that if you want me to fuck you silly.” He teases, sending a sharp smack to your ass while prodding at your slick pussy with his shaft, making you arch and whine out for him.

★ If you’re into it, he has no issue with knife/gun play. “How does it feel…?” he purrs into your ear, slowly sliding the cold metal up your stomach, circling your belly button before trailing up your chest, then collarbone, pressing the blade/barrel to your throat/temple. “Scary? Hot? Scary-Hot?”

★ Loves making you squirt, finger fucking you into oblivion, thumb pressed against your clit until you can’t take anymore. “Fuck yeah, baby.” He pants, bringing his fingers up to his mouth and cleaning them with a simple ‘pop’.

★ “Mhhh…” Wade hums in delight before shoving the same fingers into your mouth—pushing past your teeth, forcing you to taste yourself with a groan “You’re so yummy, don’t you think?”

★ If you’re being a brat, expect proper punishment. “Oooh, talking back to me, huh?” He’ll ask, gripping your face with one hand, forcing you to keep eye contact. “Watch that damn mouth of yours, pretty bitch. And keep riding me—I didn’t say stop.”

★ He’ll make you grind your hips until you’re sore. It’s so fucking good it hurts. “Awww, my poor baby…look at you crying and riding. You must be exhausted, hmm?” Wade grunts, bouncing you on top his lap as if you were a rag doll. His cock slamming into you, hitting that sweet spot—never missing a beat. “Keep going—be a good girl and keep going…”

★ Once you’re both a spent, panting, boneless mess beside each other, he’ll shower you with praise and pepper your face with kisses, combing your unkempt hair with his fingers as he caresses your arm.

★ Wade would set up a diy spa in the bathroom for you. Complete with cucumber slices, a glass of wine (or whatever you want) and a bath that’s wayyy too bubbly. He’d try and give you a foot massage while joking “Only the royal treatment for my queen. Minus the actual royalty…those guys were more fucked up than half of Alabama…”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

👽:I wanna be SAVED Deadpool PLEASEEEE SLUT ME OUTTTT

[metallicames]

New fic with 2000's James! Hope you like it 🥰

@nausicaamusiclover20 you for the perfect translation❣️

I missed you

Description: You and James had a baby two months ago, you're slowly getting back into your routine and you feel the need to start making love with James again and it seems almost like the first time.

WARNINGS: smut, explicit content, sex, oral sex, dirty talking.

Two months have passed since Elijah was born—two difficult, but at the same time, beautiful and intense months. James has proven to be an amazing father. Since he got sober, he feels like a different person—caring, attentive, present, and reliable. I find myself falling even more in love with him. Slowly, I'm getting back into my routine. It feels good to focus on myself again, but part of me still aches every time I leave Elijah. I never thought I'd be the kind of mom who struggles with being apart from her baby, but every time I head to the gym or prepare for my upcoming runway show, there's a knot in my stomach. I’m so proud of what I do, but I can't help but feel torn.

In three months, I have a big runway show, and I've started going to the gym again. Today is one of those days, and I’m heading home after my workout, eager to see Elijah and James again.

I push the door open, the familiar scent of home welcoming me. I can already hear the soft hum of James's guitar drifting down the hallway. My heart skips a beat, and I find myself walking toward Elijah’s room almost instinctively.

When I step inside, I pause, watching them. James is sitting in the armchair by the crib, guitar in hand, his strong fingers gently strumming a slow, peaceful melody. Elijah is peacefully asleep in his crib, his tiny chest rising and falling in rhythm with the song. I can’t help but smile, my chest swelling with love.

James’s presence is such a contrast to the serene room around Elijah. His broad shoulders and tattooed arms look so out of place here, surrounded by the soft colors and delicate decor, but somehow, it makes everything feel even more right. He looks so relaxed, so at peace. It’s as if the world outside doesn’t exist in these moments, and all that matters is the tiny soul asleep in the crib and the man playing music to him.

I stay still, watching them, my heart full. It’s been months since we’ve had time alone, and I can feel the distance between us melting away, the desire for him creeping back in. But there's also something else—a sense of longing for the connection we've both been craving. It’s been so long since we've had time to ourselves, just the two of us.

I bite my lip, torn between my love for Elijah and the pull of James. I’m not sure I’m ready for everything to change, but seeing him like this, so attentive, so gentle—it stirs something deep inside me.

Finally, I take a step closer, my footsteps soft on the carpet, and I lean in to kiss the top of Elijah's head before turning my attention to James.

“You’re always full of surprises,” I whisper, my voice soft, teasing.

“I thought I’d try something different today,” he says with a grin, putting the guitar down gently. “Elijah seemed to like it.”

I smile, my heart melting. I lean in, letting my fingers brush against his, a small touch that sends warmth through me. “He did. I think he’s just as in love with you as I am.”

James’s hand tightens around mine, pulling me in closer. For a moment, it’s just us, standing there in the quiet of the nursery, the world outside forgotten.

A shiver runs down my spine. It’s been months since we’ve touched, and I can feel the longing desire  inside me. The distance between us has become unbearable, and I know it’s finally time to reconnect, to feel his touch again, to make love.

I watch Elijah sleeping peacefully in his crib, careful not to disturb him. I don’t dare touch him, not wanting to wake him up. My heart is racing as I turn toward James, and I can’t help but move toward him. I reach up and run my fingers through his short, tousled hair, the touch soft and gentle, before pressing my lips to his in a slow kiss. I pull away slowly, my gaze locking with his, and then kiss him again, this time deepening it, my tongue slipping past his lips with a careful, lingering motion.

His hand moves to my face, cupping my jaw and the side of my neck. His grip is firm, but there’s tenderness in the way he holds me, his fingers pressing slightly against my skin. He tightens his hold just a little, sending a shiver through my body.

"I want you..." I whisper, my voice breathless as my lips hover close to his ear.

I feel him stiffen slightly, his gaze lighting up with a fire that matches my own. He had promised to wait for me, to wait until I was ready. I know he’s been patient, but I can see in his eyes the same longing that’s been growing inside me. The months of silence, of distance—it’s been agony for both of us.

"Are you ready?" he asks, his voice low and full of concern, but there's a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His eyes search mine, making sure I’m comfortable, that this is what I really want. "Do you feel okay?"

I meet his gaze, nodding softly. "I’m ready," I whisper. "I feel… right with you."

His smirk deepens, and he nods, his eyes darkening with approval. Then, as if to answer my unspoken invitation, he leans in and kisses me again, this time with more urgency. The kiss starts slow, sweet, but quickly becomes more passionate, his lips moving against mine with a deep hunger. His hands roam to my back, pulling me closer, the heat between us building as we kiss.

After a few moments, I pull back just enough to breathe, my chest rising and falling rapidly. My fingers trail down his chest, and I look up at him with a small smile. "Let’s go to the bedroom, "I suggest, my voice thick with desire.

He gives me a slight nod, but I hesitate, glancing back toward Elijah. "Wait" I say, stepping back for a moment. I grab the walkie-talkie from the shelf by the door and hand it to him. "Just in case he wakes up…"

James takes the walkie-talkie with a smirk still playing on his lips, his eyes locked on mine. "We’ll be quick" he says, the teasing tone in his voice making it clear he's eager, but patient.

I feel strangely nervous, almost as if it’s the first time. Maybe it’s the fear that something has changed, that it won’t be the same as before. If that’s the case, it would hit me hard because making love with James has always been one of the things I love most in the world. I try to hide the anxiety by kissing him hungrily, my hands finding their way to his chest, slipping under his shirt. The warmth of his toned chest makes me crave him even more.

As we move toward the bedroom, my heart is pounding in my chest. I try to push away the doubts creeping in—wondering if everything will be as it once was. What if things have changed? What if the passion we shared is gone, lost in the months of silence and distance? The thought makes me uneasy, but I try to shove it aside, focusing instead on the feel of his lips on mine, the warmth of his body against mine. I don’t want to think about anything else right now—just him.

James pushes me gently toward the bed, and I sit down, looking up at him. I can see the hunger in his eyes, the same fire that’s burning in me. Without breaking eye contact, I reach down to undo his belt, biting my lower lip as I pull at the buckle, feeling the tension build with every second.

"How badly do you want it?" he asks, his voice teasing, but laced with desire.

"Too much..." I answer, my hands pulling down the zipper of his jeans, my breath quickening with anticipation.

I pull down his pants and boxers, my gaze lingering on him for a moment. I can feel the weight of his eyes on me, and the air between us feels thick with desire. I can’t resist reaching out, my hands trembling slightly as I take his dick, slowly stroking it while I licked it, waching him intensely. His hand comes to the back of my head, gently guiding me closer. His breath quickens, and I can hear the low sounds of his pleasure. I take my time, moving deliberately, savoring the moment, savoring him.

"Stop…" he whispers, his voice rough. "I’m already close..."

I slow down, feeling the change in the air between us. I pull back just a little, giving him space to breathe, to collect himself. My fingers brush my lips, and I look at him, my chest rising and falling with each breath.  His eyes are dark, deep, full of desire. He pulls off my shirt, and for a moment, I feel exposed and vulnerable. My body has changed—my breasts are fuller from breastfeeding—and although I’ve almost regained my shape, I still don’t feel completely at ease. But when I see the way he looks at me, I feel a shiver run through me. His gaze moves slowly over every inch of my body, as if he’s memorizing me, in awe of the way I’ve changed.

He unhooked my bra while kissing me with slow, passionate intensity. The bra falls to the floor, and with one hand, he gently touches my breast. He knows I’m sensitive, so he’s careful, making sure his touch is soft, almost reverent. His fingers leave a trail of warmth that makes my head spin. I want him so much, more than I can put into words. I could throw myself at him in an instant, but he holds back, wanting to take his time, wanting to be gentle with me. His care only makes me want him more.

I lie back, pulling him down toward me, kissing him with a hunger I can’t suppress. I bite his lips softly, savoring every moment, intoxicated by his scent, his warmth. It’s like everything around us fades away, and I’m lost in him.

James pulls back just slightly, his eyes searching mine before he carefully pulls off my jeans and panties, his touch never rushing, always slow and deliberate. 

"You're beautiful... like a goddess," he says, his voice almost breathless. His compliment makes me blush, and I look at him, pleased, as I whisper, "Come here."

He quickly pulls off his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. The intensity between us grows, and I feel a spark of anticipation.

His hand moves slowly toward my body,  touching my clit, sending a wave of pleasure through me. I arch my back instinctively, the pleasure building with every soft, deliberate touch. He kisses my chest, taking his time, pressing his face into me as if savoring every moment. His movements are slow, thoughtful, as though he’s memorizing each of my reactions.

I can feel myself becoming restless, my body craving more. It’s like a fire burning in me, one I can’t control.

"James, please... I need you," I say, my voice tinged with desperation, my body responding to his touch, moving beneath him.

He looks at me with a smile, positioning himself between us, his gaze full of longing. As he kisses me, he slowly pushes himself into me and I feel a rush of warmth and closeness. My breath catches in my throat, and I can’t make a sound, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. I open my mouth slightly, a deep sigh escaping as I hold him closer, feeling his arms enveloping me.

“God... I’ve missed you so much,” he murmurs against my lips, his voice thick with emotion. I feel the weight of his body above me, the pressure grounding me, but there’s something comforting in it—like we’re both exactly where we’re meant to be. But it becomes more passionate as I feel his lower abdomen rubbing in my clit at every thrust.  and I can’t help but respond to him, my hands gripping his back, my body aching to feel every part of him.

I know he’s holding back, trying not to rush, making sure I’m okay, and it makes me crave him more. I whisper his name, urging him on, knowing that right now, we both need this—need each other.

“Harder… James… give it to me harder,” I urge, my voice trembling with desire.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you,” he asks, concerned in his voice.

Without saying a word, I place my hand on his butt, guiding him closer to me, urging him deeper. He understands the message  and his arms move around me, pulling me in, his hands gently supporting the back of my head. He begins to thrust harder, with a new intensity, each motion slow but deep, bringing a wave of pleasure with every thrust. I let myself fully surrender to the sensation, each movement leaving me breathless. 

James is completely immersed in the moment now. His lips leave mine, his forehead resting softly against my shoulder as he continues thrusting, as though nothing else matters but the connection between us. I can feel him shaking, his breath quickening, and the way his body reacts tells me everything I need to know.

“Keep going,” I whisper, lost in the feeling of him, feeling the intensity building between us.

He reaches the peak, pulling away and leaning over me, his breath shallow as he cums all over my body, his expression of pleasure sending a rush of excitement through me. The warmth of him leaves me breathless, and his uneven breaths only heighten the intensity of the moment, sending me into a daze of sensation.

"I love you..." I whisper softly.

"I love you too, Y/N..." he responds, his breath heavy.

I look down at my abdomen and burst into laughter.

"Oops..." he says, laughing as he runs a hand through his hair.

He gets up and heads to the bathroom. When he returns, he has a damp towel, and he gently wipes it over my body, the sensation soothing. As he reaches my lower abdomen, I realize I still crave him. I want to feel more. As he moves the towel down, he pauses at my lower abdomen, almost as if he can read my thoughts. He starts kissing me, moving lower, and suddenly a wave of anxiety hits me. I’m afraid my body isn’t the same, that he won’t find me attractive anymore. Instinctively, I close my legs.

He looks at me, confusion in his eyes. "Hey... it’s me."

"I know, but..." I trail off, unsure of how to explain.

"You're perfect... relax," he says, his tone soft and reassuring as he continues to kiss me gently.

I take a deep breath, closing my eyes, feeling him gently part my legs, kissing my clit. Slowly, I start to relax, and I realize my fears were unfounded. He loves my body just as much, if not more, than before. From this moment, his mouth and tongue move with perfect rhythm, knowing exactly how to stimulate every right spot. I know he loves giving me pleasure, and I can tell he would never stop. As he picks up the pace, a wave of shivers runs through my body, almost like an electric shock with every touch.

"Oh my God, James... you’re going to make me c..." I gasp, my hand tangled in his hair as I start trembling beneath him.

From time to time, he lets out a low, almost primal groan, sending another jolt of pleasure through me, making the sensation even more intense. At one point, he takes my ankle and places my foot on his shoulder, and I raise the other one to mirror the position, giving him more room to move. He kisses deeper, the sensation of his touch making me dizzy. His intensity drives me wild, and I can feel how deeply he desires me, how every action, every movement reminds me that I belong to him.

I can no longer control my moans, my body trembling with each wave of sensation. I arch my back, turning my head back as the pleasure builds. Just before reaching the edge, I glance down, seeing James, his skin glistening with sweat, completely naked between my legs. The sight of him, the way he moves against the mattress, only intensifies the feeling.

"J-Jamie... oh my God... I’m... I’m coming," I gasp, my body contorting as I grip the pillow with one hand. He wraps his arm around my leg, and with the final movements, he brings me to a powerful, overwhelming release. It’s intense, freeing, and everything I’ve been craving.

The sensation is so overwhelming and prolonged that I can barely catch my breath. I loosen my grip on his hair, and I notice that he’s still grinding against the mattress, his face so close to me. His soft groans soon give way to his own exhaustion, and he finally stills, breathing heavily. 

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaims, almost breathless.

"What happened?" you ask, amused, as you run your fingers through his hair and pull your feet off his shoulders.

"It’s that I... I came while I was eating you out . This is the effect you have on me," he says, his head resting on your lower abdomen, his breathing heavy and irregular. You smile, gently stroking his temple. He slowly sits up and lies next to you. You turn onto your side to watch him, admiring him quietly.

"Never doubt your body again, understood?" His voice is firm, his gaze intense, almost as if he's trying to make me believe in myself just as much as he believes in me.

I nod, my heart racing, and lean in to kiss him. The moment our lips touch, I feel a tear escape, rolling down my cheek.

He pulls away just enough to look at me, his expression filled with concern. "Why are you crying now?"

I try to steady my breath, the emotions swirling within me. "I don’t know... it's just... I’ve missed you so much, and with everything... my hormones are all over the place. There’s just so much I feel... I can’t even explain it all," I confess, my voice trembling with vulnerability.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he gently pulls me closer, wrapping his arms tightly around me, as if trying to protect me from all the worries I’ve been carrying. His warmth grounds me, and I can’t help but close my eyes and bury my face in the crook of his neck.

He presses a soft kiss to my forehead, and I feel his chest rise and fall as he inhales deeply. “I love you,” he whispers, the words coming so naturally, like they’re the most important thing he’s ever said.

I melt into his embrace, feeling his arms around me, holding me in a way that tells me I’m safe. The steady beat of his heart beneath my ear calms the storm inside me, and for a moment, everything feels right.

[codfanficedits]

Before the mask - part seventeen.

Pairing: Simon Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: Because Simon wasn’t born as Ghost.

Wordcount: 1525| Rating: E! (18+ only!)

Warnings: Just fluff :)

A/N: I am so sorry for dissapearing like that. I graduated in the meantime, landed my dreamjob, I'll hear in about a week if I'm keeping that dreamjob, since I live with a racist goverment. I went to Sleep Token, had surgery again and I started to plan my wedding. Anyway, enjoy this short chapter while I try to sort my life out.

Simon knew that he was a lucky bastard, having someone as beautiful as you next to him. And it made him want to try. He wanted to try to be a better man, to improve himself, he wanted you to be so proud of him. 

So when he saw you, all by yourself in the common area, with not a single soul who could see you two, he knew what he had to do. 

He stalked closer, almost as a predator stalking its prey. His footsteps oh so quiet, holding in his breath, his strong hands wrapping around your elbows, his chest against your back. “Care to dance with me, my love?”

Always." You answered, a soft smile on your face. Your eyes locked with his eyes, and you turned around, placing your hand in his, your other hand on his shoulder.

"Lead the way."

He spun you around in slow, gentle movements, moving your body effortlessly, almost as if his hands weren’t made for killing, but just for this. He held you close to him, resting one hand on the small of your back and moving the other from your hand to your hip. He stepped in time with the rhythm of his beating heart, his hands grazing your body intimately.

When he pulled you into him, you felt his heart beating strong. He leaned in and brushed your nose with his. "Don't ever let go of me," he whispered. "As if I would ever let someone as wonderful as you go." You whispered as you let him lead the way in this gentle dance. 

"I don't think you'll ever get rid of me." He chuckled softly. "That's good, because I can't imagine life without you." He held you tightly. Your hips moved against him in such a tantalising way, your body brushing up against his body. He leaned you back a little, leaning down to kiss you deeply. There was just something about you that had him smitten. "That sounds like a plan." You answered, after pulling back from the kiss, so you could rest your head on his chest. His heart was beating so fast, so hard, that it almost made you worry that it would beat out of his chest. 

"I really love you." You murmured softly as you closed your eyes, enjoying this sweet little moment together. 

"I really love you, too," Simon whispered. He stroked your hair gently, letting his hand trail down to your jaw, needing to see your face once more, his lips lingering near yours. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you." Another quick kiss gets shared, and you smile at him. 

"I really can't wait to grow old with you." You begin. "To be old and wrinkly and still be yours."

"Old, wrinkled, and in love." He chuckled lightly. "Nothing and no one can keep me from you."

Simon lifted you into his arms and twirled you around, pulling you back into his embrace. His hands gripped your waist firmly, caressing the shape of your body. "I love being with you, all the adventures and surprises. I want that forever."

Oh, how you loved this, just softly swaying with the man you loved most. When you first met Simon, this would’ve never been the way you would've seen yourself with him. 

"Is that a promise?" You murmur, as you look up at him, trying to look for any form of doubt in his eyes. "A promise." Simon planted a kiss on your forehead. "When we're eighty-five and we've had a lifetime of adventures together, you'll be holding my crusty old hand and I'll be thinking you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

The gentle swaying stopped and you looked up at him again. His words made your heartbeat a little faster. 

"You have no idea how much I look forward to being eighty-five and being able to look back on the beautiful life we had together." You whispered.

"Growing old is a privilege and I'll be so happy to do it with you."

"You may have to wheel me around on a wheelchair because of how old I'll be." He chuckled. "You'll be as beautiful as you are now."

And I could never get bored of you. I wonder what you'd look like with grey hair and wrinkles, never losing that beauty you radiate.

"I would gladly wheel you around." You laughed softly, picturing it all in your head. "I'll use your lap as a personal seat every time I get tired."

A brief moment of quiet before you started to speak again. "You'll always be the most handsome man to me."

His lips curled upwards. "I'd love anything if I could be with you."

His hands shifted from the small of your back, sliding up to your hips as he pulled you in for a kiss. His lips caressed yours, lingering longer than you would think needed.

"I want to wake up every morning and see your face in the bed beside me for the rest of our lives."

You took a deep breath, letting his sweet words linger in the air. "What did I ever do to deserve you." You whispered softly as you kissed him again. "Hmm, I think it was just sheer luck and destiny that I got to meet someone quite as amazing as you." Simon squeezed you against his body, letting his hands drift upward, back to the small of your back again. 

"I want to make happy memories with you, live out my dreams by your side. Whatever life throws at us, I don't think we'd mind if we had each other."

There is something so adorable about him, and you know that he is trying so hard to find his own spot in the military, and you also know that he is risking it all by dancing with you like this, with holding you like this, and that makes the whole thing all the better.

His large hands go to cup your face, and he looks you into your eyes, almost immediately making your breath hitch. “Tomorrow, when we are on that mission together, I want you to stay in my direct line of sight.” Simon murmured, just soft enough to hear. “I’m serious, I don’t want to worry how you’re doing, okay?’

It is tempting to argue about it, even though you’ve had this conversation with him before, you’re not a child, you do not need to be babied, but at the same time.. It is hard to put your foot down when he is looking at you like that. 

Like you’re the sun, the moon and the stars all at the same time. 

“Fine.”

And Simon couldn’t be happier. He got to protect his whole world. 

His hands give your ass a teasing squeeze, there is so much that he would like to say to you, there is so much more that he would like to do, but he needs you well rested for the mission tomorrow. It doesn’t matter that it is just routine, he has come close to losing you once, he is not going to risk it again. 

“Get some sleep.” He ordered, trying to be stern. “I need my soldiers to be in the best shape.”

Of course you knew that it would be best to get some sleep, to call it an early night. But who could blame you for trying to stay a little longer with him? 

“Oh come on!” You protest, not really wanting to pout, but that might just do the trick, your chest pressed against his, trying to get him to stay a little longer. 

And Simon had to bite his cheek, as there was nothing he would've loved to do more than to pull you closer, to let you feel how hard you’re making him. 

But your safety comes first, no matter how turned on you’re making him. 

“Maybe you can stay for the night?” You add in a soft whisper, your lips close to his ear, trying to ignite the fire inside of him. 

And dear God, Simon is just a simple man. 

He gives your ass another squeeze. Taking a deep breath to compose himself. 

“You’re being too cheeky for your own good.” Simon grumbled. “But we’re sleeping apart, and that’s final.”

He would've loved to sleep next to you, in fact, he wouldn’t want to do anything else. But he knew that the moment he got under the covers, feeling your body against his, he would be a goner, and he would do nothing more than keep you up at night. And God forbid that something would happen to you because you’re too tired to focus. Simon had seen too many losses to take risks like that. 

So his nose brushes against your jawline as he is breathing you in. It wouldn’t be fair to be selfish, he knows that he has so many more moments like these with you, yet he can’t stop himself from savouring the moment. 

Simon finally pulls back, pressing a kiss on your cheek. “Go on then, before I change my mind.”

[therealsaintscully]

Thank you for the tag, lovely @crepesuzette2023! It's been nice to take some time to think about my fics!

How many works do you have on ao3?

20; 18 are Johnlock (BBC) and two, the most recent ones, are mclennon.

What’s your total word count?

306,378 (I was stunned to see this, I had no idea).

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

All are Johnlock: Mark Your Calendars, my beloved Erosion, Detours, Plus One and Turned - Part I : Queen and Country.

Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?

I try to be very good about it and respond as often as I can, but the truth is I'm a bit of an emotional wreck so when there's a rush of comments I get overwhelmed and over emotional about them, and tend to put it off for a while. I read them ALL, and I often go back and re-read them.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I had to refresh my memory but it's def Every Other Universe ("What if in every other universe John Watson leaves?"). It's one of my very earliest ones and I cringe a little reading it, but it's a very neat idea. Gretna Green Waltz, a mclennon fic, is very devastating if I may say so myself, and was written as such knowingly. It only reflects reality, though, and that's just as devastating.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I think Mark Your Calendars has the happiest ending, judging by the numbers of kudos, but for me as the writer, the cosiest, most joy-bringing ending was that of Simon (or: Love Calls You by Your Name).

Do you write crossovers?

The sadly abandoned Turned series is a crossover with Homeland.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Not hate, but some less-than-considerate "when's the next chapter???" comments. I don't bother with them.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes I do :)

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Don't think so!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I remember being asked, but I'm not sure what happened with it! Some of my fics got podficced, though: Mark Your Calendars is available as podfic, and so is I Have not Lingered (thanks to the lovely @helloliriels)

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, I'm so neurotic and particular I don't think I'm cut out for that.

What's your all-time favourite ship?

Mulder and Scully are DEFINITELY the mothership and always will be. I still sigh about them in a special, exasperated way about three times a week. I'm still here with Johnlock of course, but I'm pretty sure mclennon has been in the back of my mind for decades, but I was too haunted by other ships to fall down that rabbit hole. Look at me, though, here I am.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Turned, very sadly. So much so that I've considered taking it off AO3 but I'm so proud of what I did achieve with it.

What are your writing strengths?

I think my best writing moments are the ones that hook unto my real, personal experiences, not just a general idea of life situations. Erosion is based on my own personal grief and family losses, and Gretna Green Waltz is a retelling of my biggest heartache. I have noticed readers can tell when you're really putting your heart into a story.

What are your writing weaknesses?

English isn't my first language, which means I have to rely on betas which for me sadly slows me down - I want to be able to just write them and post them otherwise I overthink. I'm also a screenwriter irl, and I noticed a pattern that is another weakness - I always have banger openings, or first acts to my stories/screenplays, but sometimes I don't know the ending and I get lost and hesitant. That's why Gretna Green Waltz was SUCH a surprise - much like Junk, the song that haunts Paul throughout the fic, came to him in one piece, GGW landed in my head as a full story. I wrote it in TWO WEEKS! That NEVER happened before!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It really depends on how it's done. If it's 2-3 sentences and they're simple I assume the readers will Google Translate it. Jinglebell stands out as someone who did it really well in multi-chapter fic that's all about Sherlock discovering that John is a polyglot, so it can be done well.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Johnlock (for which I started writing during covid in 2020), although as a reader it was TXF, back in in 90s and early 2000s.

What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?

The X-Files. I've had a Scully character study in my head for years that I just can't get right.

What's your favourite fic you've written?

With Johnlock it would have to be the now-abandoned Turned, and mclennon it would be Gretna Green Waltz. I am very proud of both.

Tagging @menlove, @discordantwords, @saint-mona, @totallysilvergirl @m1ssunderstanding @slippinmickeys @kettykika78 @agrlsname @arwamachine @calaisreno @aggressivewhenstartled and anyone who sees this who wants to participate :)

[maruyaaya]

hi everyone just wanted to drop by and show off the lego ninjago crochet dolls i made bc i think theyre very cutesie <3

the designs are based on the old designs bc i made these solely for my nostalgia's sake and i grew up with the og designs. more pics and my ramblings under the cut

lloyd garmadon!!

lloyd is my favourite so obvs he was the first one i made (you can tell by his unstuffed arms 💀). i was figuring things out with him but i am very attached to him. s4 is my favourite season and since lloyd is my fav ninja, i decided to give him the tournament of elements suit. what you'll notice is for a lot of these guys i just did random embroidery on their backs bc i couldnt be bothered to look for references of their backs.

jay walker!!

doing his eyebrow slit was so fun!! he's one of my favs for sure i think he turned out really good. sorry i'm a firm believer in light brown hair jay. he is not a ginger. he has light brown hair with ginger undertones.

nya!!

i struggled a lot with choosing which suit to do for nya bc i feel like her signature colour has changed sm but i wanted every doll to have their own distinct colour so i chose her grey one. it was probably a bad idea bc the embroidery was hell but i think she turned out cool!!

cole!!

he's def one of my favs of the dolls i think he turned out so cute. i love his thick eyebrows and his little smile i love him sm. honestly not much to say about him bc he was really easy to make (aside from the struggles of crocheting with black yarn)

zane!!

ZANES HAIR WAS AWFUL!! i had to try so many different techniques before i settled on this one and i do think it ended up looking okay. i mean, it at least looks how it looks in the show so i guess thats a win.

and finally kai!!

he is definitely my least favourite of the dolls. I JUST COULDN'T FIGURE OUT HOW TO GET HIS HAIR RIGHT. i don't think i ever did get his hair right. i think it's about as close as i could possibly get without doing a much more complex hair style with pieces i'd have to crochet and then stitch together. i think he looks fine! i like his lil smirk.

i'm very proud of them all and they took me a very long time to make. i really wanna make an achilles doll so that's probs my next project. there's a few greek mythology figures i wanna make, but achilles is my #1 so always him first <3

[rememberingliampayne]

Dear Liam,

I first found out about 1D in late 2011 when a friend told me about 1D and wanted me to listen to the music and watch the music videos. I liked Gotta Be you the best back then and even then when I had no idea who any of you were i was drawn to your voice the most.

Then she made me watch the Up All Night DVD and what I can say: it was you from the very first minute. I cant say for sure what it was today, but I think it was your beautiful brown warm eyes and your big genuine smile that got me. And it never changed, you were my favorite from the beginning and you will always be my favorite.

I just realized in retroperspect that I was so drwan to you because i could relate to you: your perfectionism, the way you made sure everyone was fine (the fans, the band…) and also some of your mannerism. It helped me so much to see someone perceived as mature as you also show your joy and your playfulness because I did not have to be only mature – I could also be a kid at the same time. You got a lot of backlash when you slowly started to break out of the 'Daddy direction' role and it always felt unfair to me to burden you with that role. I think a lot of the last 10 years would have been different for you if that role had not fallen onto you.

I just want you to know that I appreciated you publically breaking out of the role more than you could ever known. You helped a girl that surpressed her own feelings for years to try to ease her familys burden, that tried to play grown up when she wasnt and had to deal with the consequences from all that for a long time to break out of this cycle. I dont think I would have been able to do that if not for you showing me that you dont have to play a role to ease others burden.

I still have to deal with some of the consequences of that and I dont think I will ever fully overcome it but I got a lot better and am in a mental place I never could have imagined. I will forever be sad that you did not get the help to overcome your struggles. You deserved it so much.

It makes me so angry that you never got to show us the music you were so proud of, that you never got to go on a proper tour. You were made to sing and to perform, your stage presence was one of the best I ever experienced. Your voice was so angelic, I would have listened to anything you would have sung. You helped so many people get better but never got the chance to get better yourself.

Liam, it was you from the very first time I heard a 1D song and watched any videos of you and it was you during your solo adventure till the end. It will always be you. I always rooted so hard for you and wished you everything you wanted, especially happiness. I will carry the sadness that you never got your happy end til the day I die. I am not religious but I believe in an afterlife and I am so absolutely sure that you got all the happiness and everything good you ever deserved up there. I hope you can see that despite you receiving so much hate there is also so much love for you.

At the moment the grief is too strong form me to listen to your music. But I know that once the grief is not as raw anymore I will happy bop to your voice again until I will hear it again in the afterlife.

Sleep well Liam, you deserve the peace.

[eliemo]

"Fuck off."

Wade, the persistent little motherfucker that he is, predictably doesn't fuck off.

He doesn't even look particularly put off by the outburst, pursing his lips like Logan is nothing more than a petulant child throwing a tantrum he doesn't mean, and all that serves to do is piss him off even more.

"I thought we were past this, peanut," he says. Logan is torn between hitting him and begging him to keep talking so he drowns out the sounds of the storm outside. "I get it, tough guy. You're so big and bad, yes you are. You're so cool and my dick is oh so hard. Happy? Now come here."

He decides he does actually want to hit Wade, but before he can make his hands move another clap of thunder shakes the walls, lighting flashing across the blinds. He jumps, hands flying defenselessly to his chest.

It's like someone set off a gun right next to his face, his ears ringing ringing ringing- and he's back in the dirt, eyes watering against the stench of blood and death and sick and the gunfire won't stop and he can't move-

"Logan, come on."

Wade's voice, exasperated as it is, is an anchor right back to the surface, back to their shabby little new york apartment away from the war and the suffering and the pain, and it's bullshit.

He's standing in front of him with a blanket and headphones in his arms, like he's decided to do every single time there's a thunderstorm or a firework celebration since he found out about Logan's embarrassing little trigger.

It's bullshit, it's such bullshit, and to make matters worse he's usually too blinded by panic and exhaustion to put up much of a fight.

He let it happen. He let Wade be soft and worried and caring, and Logan let himself want it. And now, without Wade's hands against his back and the weight of the blanket over his shoulders, the storm feels a thousand times louder. The flashbacks feel a million times more real.

He wants Wade- fuck that he needs Wade. He can't make it through this without him, he can't even sleep without the idiot snoring against his side, and that can't continue. He can't let this happen again.

"Why do you always fight me?" Wade asks, exasperated. The annoyance poking through his voice is good. It's good. If Logan keeps pushing those limits, he'll give up. He'll leave before it becomes too much.

The thought already makes him sick. He knows it's too late.

"Is it because the headphones are pink?" Wade asks, trying to worm his way under Logan's skin. "Too proud for a little feminity? That's not very progressive of you, peanut. That's not gonna fly with Tumblr in this climate."

"Shut the fuck up," Logan growls, because it's getting harder not to give in and slump forward and close his eyes against Wade's chest until the storm dies down. "Just shut the fuck up! Leave me the fuck alone!"

"No can do, honey badger," Wade says, and he sounds angry, frustrated, but he doesn't back down. He never fucking does. "It goes against the roommate code to let you sit there torturing yourself for no good reason. Because I know it's not me. I know you like me, you grumpy bear, and I know it's been helping to get wrapped up nice and snug when New York starts New Yorking with its weather. It's okay that you need-"

Logan snaps.

"Jesus fucking Christ!"

He's louder than the next clap of thunder, but it doesn't feel that way. He feels so small against it.

"Do you ever stop fucking talking? Are you that far up your own ass? I don't like you. I never fucking liked you, you stupid little prick. I'm stuck with you. Do you fucking get that? I can't get you to leave me the fuck alone! I don't want anything to do with a pathetic, attention starved shit for brains asshole who can't take a fucking hint but here I am! Because you stranded me here! You stranded me in your dimension because you were too stupid to save the world by yourself. Because you're not a hero, you're a goddamn car salesman who can't make rent and can't get anyone to put up with you long enough to do anything but show up for a birthday party once a year. I don't want you and I sure as shit don't need you. I never fucking needed you, don't flatter yourself. I don't need fucking anyone. Can you get that through your thick fucking skull? Does your brain function enough to get that, Wade? I said leave me alone."

It takes a few seconds of suffocating silence for Logan to register all the things he just said. For the red to fade from his vision, for the words he didn't mean to sit like something stale on his tongue.

And the hatred for himself is heavy, because he always does this, but... fuck, maybe it's for the best. He's not sure if he's trying to push Wade to hit him or kick him out or walk away, but no matter what he'll hate him.

And he won't be able to stomach that, not after letting himself love again, but it's easier to handle the loss when he can control it. He can make Wade leave before Wade decides to leave him.

The silence is the worst part. It reminds him of the Honda Odyssey, the way Deadpool had been silent, still, for the first time since Logan had known him. It was eerie, blank white eyes picking him apart before throwing that first punch.

It's different now. It's worse. There's no mask to cover up Wade's reaction, no weapons on his back, but he's somehow just as blank. He's quiet for too long.

"You know," Wade says after another beat, and Logan braces himself. "That would have been a lot more believable if you didn't start crying halfway through."

"I'm not crying," Logan snaps automatically, but his face is wet and stinging when he reaches up to touch it. "Fuck-"

He's cut off by another round of thunder, the loudest one yet, and Logan jumps so hard he loses his balance on wobbling legs, crashing backwards onto the waiting couch. He slams his hands over his ears and squeezes his eyes shut, hating himself hating this, wishing it would just stop, make it all stop-

Arms wrap tight around him, despite the threat of claws resting just beneath the surface. Logan doesn't stab him, as much as a part of him wants to.

All he can do is curl forward and choke on a pathetic sob, frustration and panic and dread choking the life out of him while Wade just stubbornly holds on.

"Please," Logan begs, because threats and anger and hatred aren't working. "Please. Please don't do this, don't fucking do this to me."

"Do what?" Wade demands, and he still sounds pissed, rightfully so, but he doesn't let go. "Hold you?"

"Yes." It's pathetic, and it's stupid, and Logan contradicts his own damn pleas by letting Wade hold his head to his chest and run his fingers through his hair. "I can't-"

"Drop the tough guy act," Wade says, but that's not what it is. It's never been about that. "Come on, Logan, seriously. Please. It's okay to need this. I wouldn't be offering if I didn't want to."

"It's not like that." Logan's muffled against Wade's shirt, clutching at him with shaking hands like a pathetic child. "S' not fucking like that."

"Then tell me what it's like, Logan."

"I can't do this again." It all comes spilling out like poison, and Logan can't stop it. "I can't, Wade I can't- it's going to hurt so fucking bad when I lose you. I can't keep anyone or anything and you'll... you'll leave and I'll need you but you won't be here and it always hurts but I don't... fuck, Wade. I can't survive it again, I fucking can't."

He doesn't know what he's waiting for. Yelling, maybe. Or pity. He'd rather claw his own throat out than face either of those right now.

But Wade starts shaking, and there's a terrifying moment where Logan thinks he's crying, he made Wade cry- only for the world to screech to a halt when he realizes the asshole is laughing.

Logan scowls and tries to pull away, tips of his claws poking out from his knuckles, but Wade just squeezes him tighter to keep him in place.

"Something fucking funny, bub?"

"Yeah," Wade says, and it's bitter but he's still laughing. "Yeah, mostly the fact that you're a fucking idiot."

Logan grits his teeth. "Get off me-"

"No, you called me a pathetic attention starved asshole. I get to call you out for being a stupid moron."

It pisses him off, but he can't exactly argue with that.

"You're so stupid," Wade reiterates. "You're so so fucking dumb, Logan, holy shit you're such an idiot. And I thought I-"

"Is there a point?"

"You think you're gonna lose me?" Wade asks, and it's genuine but he doesn't give Logan time to answer. "You think I don't need you? You think you're not the best thing to ever happen to me in my miserable fucked over existence?"

"You-"

"I need you," Wade says, and Logan snaps his mouth shut. "I don't care if you can't admit the same thing, but I need you. You're the only one... you get me, okay? You're the only person in the entire universe who does. And you're the only one who tried. You know about the cancer and the chronic pain and the nightmares and fucking Francis and all my raging insecurities and yeah, sometimes you throw them back in my face when you're being a little bitch like today but hey, I've probably said worse to you."

"You haven't."

"Don't challenge me," Wade warns, and smiles. "I was so miserable, peanut. Like one day away from finding a mutant collar and letting the cancer finish the job levels of miserable."

The very image of that makes something ugly swirl in Logan's chest, a sickening storm of emotions waging war in his gut. Wade doesn't give him time to say anything about it.

"I still am, on bad days," he admits. "I'm always gonna be fucked in the head, but you don't care and you're the only one. you like me, I don't care what you said I know you like me. You could have fucked off to the woods like in Wolverine 2 and I would have let you, but you're still here sleeping on a pullout couch with me because you like me."

Logan swallows. His head is still resting against Wade's chest. He curls his hands in and out of fists, and the claws slowly sink back in.

"I do like you."

"There we go," Wade says. "I like you too, you know. Like, a lot. An unhealthy amount, really. I like coming home now. I like waking up to you burning toast and then blaming me for it. I like sitting and watching TV and drinking bad coffee with you and arguing about everything under the sun. I didn't think I could love again after all the shit the universe put me through and after Vanessa and the Avengers but I did and I do, and I'd rip a hole in the goddamn multiverse to bring you back if anyone tried to take you away from me. You're stuck with me, babygirl. So stop trying to get rid of me because it's not happening."

Logan pulls away, and this time Wade lets him. He meets his gaze head on, like he's challenging him to argue, daring him to try and keep pushing him away.

There's... there's a lot. A lot to unpack, a lot to mull over.

One piece of the puzzle is stuck on loop in his head, fragile, and he's not entirely sure he even heard it right.

"You love me?"

it sounds stupid coming out of his mouth, and he wonders if he should have ignored it when Wade's demeanor changes entirely, eyes going wide in barely concealed panic.

"Uh. I mean. In the sense that... that like- you know."

Logan stares, not sure what to say, and Wade grimaces.

"We can ignore that part. The rest of it is... I meant it, but we don't need to- I don't expect anything from you, peanut, I mean look at you and look at me I'm not gonna ask you to do anything that would scar you for life, I just mean that-"

Maybe it's the storm, fueling Logan with nothing but adrenaline and instinct. Or maybe it's the fact that he's never been very good with words anyway. Anything he tries to say here will end up clamming Wade up more.

So he just moves.

He grabs Wade by the shirt and drags him closer, closer, until he can cut off that self destructive rambling by pressing his lips over Wade's.

And Wade melts into him, making a small noise of surprise against the kiss before returning with just as much passion, eagerly grabbing Logan's shirt like he's worried he'll disappear if he lets go again.

The storm still sends Logan spiraling for the rest of the night. He knows better than to assume it'll ever really get better.

But Wade holds him the entire time, and it makes it a little easier. And kissing through the night isn't half bad, either.

Do you ever think about Logan being terrified of thunder and fireworks (too proud to ever ever admit it, of course he's not scared of shit) both because of PTSD from the wars and also because his enhanced hearing makes those sounds 100x louder for him than anyone else.

And how he's always been shut out and alone so it was easy to hide it and hide away until it's gone but now he's living in a tiny apartment with Wade so there's no way to keep avoiding it

WELL NOW I HAVE

And you're so fucking right, he'd never want to admit that he's scared of thunder storms and fireworks of all things, he's the fucking wolverine, he's seen things regular people can't even imagine, and he's scared by the fucking weather??

He tries so god damn hard every time to just be okay and power through it, he knows it can't hurt him, but every time no matter how prepared he is and how hard he tries, with the first crash hes spiralling, it feels like someone shot a gun right next to his face, his ears are ringing and his head starts hurting and he looks around and all he can see are trenches and guns and the dead bodies of his fellow soldiers. Before Wade, he'd always just find somewhere to hunker down and wait it out, pretty much in a constant state of flashbacks and panic attacks until it finally stopped.

This is just me projecting but I feel like Logan would feel safest in small spaces where he can shove himself into a corner, so he knows no one can sneak up on him, so he spent a lot of stormy nights and fourth of Julys shoved into the closest of a shitty motel.

I also think that it reminds him of the night the X-Men died, like most things do. He'd run off to go drink himself into a coma at a nearby bar, and a storm picked up while he was there. He didn't think anything of it at the time, but later realized that it had probably been Orroro's last attempts to save herself and her friends. He blames himself for not thinking of that at the time, just one more reason to hate himself.

But then he moves in with Wade, and it doesn't occur to him at first to even worry about it, so much happened so fast, storms and fireworks were pretty low on his list of concerns with a whole new universe.

Luckily, Wade isn't home when the storm hits, neither is Althea. Unluckily, Wade returns about 30 minutes after. He almost thinks Logan went out, since he isn't in his usual spot on the couch, or anywhere else for that matter, until Wade goes into the bedroom and hears the tiniest shifting sound coming from the closet.

Logan freezes when the door opens. He'd been hoping Wade would stay out until after the storm, but when did Logan ever get a lucky break? For a solid ten seconds, it's silent, Wade staring down at Logan, Logan remaining squished in the back corner of the closet, knees to his chest, looking like he can't decide whether he wants to stab Wade through the skull or bolt out of the apartment into the rain.

Wade opens his mouth to say..something, he hadn't actually figured out what yet but it didn't matter because before he got the chance there was another crack of thunder, and Logan jolted like the lightening had hit him square on his head. His eyes went distant and dark like they did when he just woke up from a nightmare and he slammed his hands over his ears, pressing his face into his knees. Wade felt kind of stupid, once he realized what was going on, of course Mr. Logan every-war-ever Howlett would have a problem with noises like that.

Wade panics, for a second, because scared of not, this is still Logan, and he's well aware of how Logan tends to feel about being caught in a vulnerable position, but then he sees Logan's hand shaking, and hears a sound that if he didn't know any better (he doesn't) he'd call a whimper (it was), and his heart just shatters, he can't stand seeing Logan this afraid, so he quickly steps into the closet and closes the door behind him. The closet is hardly big enough for one grown man to crouch in, much less two, but Logan is clearly in no state to leave, so Wade shoves himself into the corner between Logan and the door, careful not to lress up against him incase the touch is to overwhelming.

At this point, Logan has recovered slightly from the most recent crash of thunder, and he lifts his head, though he still won't look at Wade. He wants to be angry, mad at Wade for catching him like this, he wants to scowl and tell him to fuck off and leave him alone, but he's been panicking for thirty minutes now, flashing back with every clap of thunder, slowly starting to calm down only to be yanked right back into his own mind when it happens again, he's exhausted and just doesn't have the energy, so he just sighs, swallowing thickly to try and stop his voice from shaking and grumbling something about how he's fine, it's just loud, Wade can go about his day and he'll be out in a bit.

Wade honestly only understands about half of what he says, between the mumbling and the shaky voice and the storm outside, but he's sure as hell not gonna leave Logan to deal with this alone, and besides, the closet isn't to bad, kinda cozy once you give it a chance, and hey what're the odds they have a closet big enough for this in such a shitty apartment anyway? pretty plot convenient if you ask him. He ends up telling Logan all of this, partly to reassure him he doesn't mind but mostly to buy time while he figures out what to do. After a moment he lets out a quiet gasp and stands up, assuring Logan he'll be right back. Logan just nods and puts his head back on his knees, resigned to his fate of riding out his PTSD episode stuffed into a closet with fucking Deadpool.

Wade comes back a minute later with a small assortment of items in his arms, shuffling to sit back down. First, he sets down a small electric candle that he had laying around for some reason, because even if Logan can see in the dark closet, he can't, and he explains as much as he turns it on and the soft, warm light fills the space. Wade's heart breaks just a little more now that he can see Logan better, the way his whole body is shaking with every breath, the tear tracks covering his face, some dry, some fresh, but he does his best not to make to big a deal out of it and moves on.

I'm gonna put something on your head now, Peanut. You trust me? Wade asks, trying to keep his voice low and even.

No. Logan grumbles in response, but he leans towards Wade just slightly, and Wade places his gaming headset over Logan's ears. Logan pauses, evaluating, before giving a small nod and relaxing ever so slightly. He can still hear the storm, but it's better. Wade grins, trying desperately to keep his cool as he shows Logan the rest of his items. He brought a bag of Logan's favorite chips, a water bottle, and a bottle of whiskey.

They spend the next hour and a half in that closet together, alternating between Wade talking (much more quiet and restrained than usual) and Logan nodding occasionally in response, to out of it to say much but appreciating the distraction nonetheless and, with every crack of thunder, Logan panicking, and Wade doing his best to keep him tethered to reality.

It still sucks, storms probably always will for Logan, but it's better, and when the storm finally ends Wade leads him out of the closet, and he doesn't make a big deal out if it (like Logan feared), He doesn't make fun of him or think less of him, he gets it. And damn it if that doesn't make Logan feel more cared for and understood than he has in years, maybe ever, even if that fact alone pisses him off to no end.

[diy-fire-water-pups]

Hey pups, I lost my mother a few days ago, can you say something they might make me happy please

First of all, we're sorry it took us some time to get to your ask. We get a lot of them and try our best to answer as much as we can.

Secondly... I know more or less how you feel. Long ago, when I was still a small puppy, I had my mother taken away from me and I had to run away. I never got to know if she's alive or not... Never heard anything, never got any clue to what happened to her after that.

Sometimes I think I'm forgetting what she looked or sounded like... And it scares me. But then I remember that, even if she goes away from my memories, the affection and care I know she had for me and my siblings, that will never go away. It stays with me forever and I get to keep living. I just hope to make her proud of the pup I'm becoming, wherever she may be right now.

I know that's what she wanted for me, to have a good life, to make friends, maybe even have a good owner... And I got the best owner a pup can ever dream of having, am I right? It may hurt a lot right now, but it's good, it means you love and care about her. This way, she will always be with you and you get to keep going.

[jasperyourmutt]

zonked out on the dog bed snoring up a storm. you come over and rub the soft spot on the top of my nose. i let out the most contented sigh

[angelmush]

the other day i walked around the golden lake w my love and the sun was setting hot and orange and we watched a brown duck preening through the weeds, ducking her head under the dark water. the cool lake swallowed up my tired feet to the ankles and we counted the dog walkers with their curly panting doodles and their handsome german shepherds and their whip smart little terriers and we admired the careful construction of a sand castle whose moat held determinedly against the lapping of the waves. we could feel in our chests the persistent thunderous thumping of celebratory music at the finish line of the lakeside 5k, welcoming each gasping runner across its bounds. and i felt like crying. i felt like curling into myself and crying. we walked through the swamp of the bird sanctuary afterwards and listened to the woods sing and croak and groan and then we went and got ube and yuzu gelato and devoured it suntired and sweating on the couch in our living room. and i was so overcome w a deep and true unshakeable happiness and a sort of confused grief that i wanted to sob and sob and sob.

[sufferu]

It’s also fucking ridiculous on a lot of individual levels. Like—

Subaru: I messed up. I messed up so bad. Emilia hates me now, I messed up, I messed up, I messed up—

Emilia, constantly on the verge of tears: I will not mess up again I will not mess up again I will not mess up again I will not—

_

Subaru: Rem’s mad at me, too? But we were — we were so close before! How did I mess up this horribly? Was what I did really this bad?

Rem, so horrified by everything that she’s practically numb at this point: I cannot do what I did last time, for the love of everything in the world I CANNOT tell Subaru to go and be a hero, for FUCK’S SAKE— WHY DOES HE STILL WANT ME AROUND AFTER I TORTURED HIM TO DEATH?!?!

_

Subaru: Why won’t Ram tease me anymore? Please come back, I’m sorry…

Ram, horribly awkward: Subaru I cannot joke about that sort of thing when I apparently ACTUALLY murdered you. I cannot encourage this behavior on your part. Why are you like this.

_

Subaru: I need to impress Wilhelm. I need to work hard and get better so that he’ll be proud of me. I want him to be proud of me, I want him to be proud, please—?

Wilhelm, achingly: My sweet, adorable, pathetic mess of a new grandchild who I fully plan to adopt as soon as I prove my worth by eviscerating the Witch Cult that is threatening your existence, please stop begging me to train you for lethal combat—

_

Subaru: I think Julius is planning to torture me.

Julius, wistfully: I really did miss this brattier version of Subaru :) I know he’ll need to grow up eventually but he’s just so cute right now, all I want to do is tease him all the time—

_

Subaru: Reinhard hates me now. He’s so strict with me all the time, and he never lets me leave his sight when he escorts me into the Capital, and he always forces me to follow these arbitrary rules, and if I ever fail to do what he says to the letter he drags me back to the Estate by the ear like some sort of—

Reinhard: l i t t l e b r o t h e r.

_

Subaru: The Captain of the Iron Fang really doesn’t like me. I don’t know why I’m on his bad side. Why does everyone hate me so much?

Ricardo, on the verge of an aneurysm: Subaru for the love of all that is holy sTOP SNEAKING INTO OUR CARRIAGES TRYING TO JOIN US ON DANGEROUS MERCENARY JOBS—

_

Subaru: Who is this scheming merchant and why am I the only one concerned by this

Otto, doing a horrible job at disguising his true intentions due to being completely wrong about being the only one who went back in time: I am so good at this. Nobody suspects a thing.

_

Subaru: Who is this monster that almost kidnapped me and when is he going home

Cecilus, beaming: I am never going home :D not without Boss!

_

Subaru: How did I make the Emperor of the neighboring country not like me?? I tried so hard to be polite this time…

Vincent, pouting: why won’t subaru pick fights with me anymore, this is bullshit

_

Subaru: Who are all of these escaped criminals and why are they still here?!

The Pleiades Battalion: s c h w a r t z - s a m a a a a a…

_

Subaru: WHY IS SHE HERE?!?!

Elsa: Why am I here????

Writing the BTZ fic(s) right now and it’s fucking hysterical, because the first one is solely from Subaru’s POV, which is really sad and angsty and him trying desperately to make everyone stop hating him because they all suddenly seem to absolutely despise him right down to his bones — and then you get everyone else’s POV of those exact same events and it’s just the Benny Hill Theme on full blast.

[frances-baby-houseman]

I ran my half marathon!! It was surprisingly great. I got a pretty good pr-- I took off a little more than 2 minutes from my previous best time, which is a lot for me!

I did not really have much of a plan for this one, other than feeling pretty good from my 10k in the fall and knowing I had done enough miles, especially since I had done a run the day before every long run, which adds up to a lot of time on your feet. I started around 8:50, and figured I'd just try to hold there, and I did! Some miles were down in the 8:30s, and one or two were in the high 8:50s, but I averaged 8:40 on my watch and 8:45 on the course (the watch clocked another .1 mile, which probably is right with weaving). And it was hard on my legs but not that hard cardio!! I felt really strong the whole time.

There is one section where you run down an enormous hill to the beach and then immediately back up the hill (about 100 feet of elevation and I did it in just under 2 minutes). People were FLYING by me down the hill-- I had to protect my knees and my mom bladder and kept it around 8:15-- and then I passed every one of them going back up the hill. I live at the top of a hill so I do have easy access to hill training. Carly Rae Jepsen's I want you in my room came on and I was just like, "Come on carly!!" over and over. It worked!

I also did a good job on nutrition-- I took a few sips of water (and rinsed my mouth out) at every water stop, and took a gel at mile 5 and had a date at mile 9ish. This is a very well-supported race, so you get water and gatorade every 1-2 miles and they also had Gu at mile 9. I

Anyway I finished really strong and had a lot of fun! It is a really surprisingly hilly race for chicago and all the strategy for the hills made it go very quickly. Idk what my next half marathon will be! I don't know that I want to spend every spring training for this thing!! My dad was like wow you're really set up now for a great half in the fall and I was like, fuck off! I was set up for a great half today! So anyway it was a great run and that was that. New PR at 1:54:40.

[ageless-aislynn]

Nowwwwww, I facetiously mentioned at the bottom of this post about the Halo: Reach achievement:

To do that, you have to go under or close to par time on pretty much each level ON LEGENDARY.

I have beaten Reach on Legendary but it probably took me closer to 30 hours than 3 because I did my slow, methodical strategies to get through. I did the par time achievement by running past everything I could on Easy. Can I combine the two successfully?

I decided to give the first level "Winter Contingency" a try (after watching some Youtube vids on getting this achievement, of course 😉). Par time is 15 minutes.

That was my third try, the first was 16 and some minutes, the second got it to 15 and some and then that one got under the par by 32 seconds! I should note that this is considered one of the easiest levels to do on Legendary and the guide I watched by the ever-awesome Halo Completionist did it under 12 minutes and you're going to need every spare second you can scrap together to give you a buffer for some of the long, difficult levels. But still!

It's silly, I know, but I feel so proud of me! I'm an old lady (well, middle-aged, if I'm being generous 😜) playing Halo with shaky hands but I made under par time on Legendary! 🥳🥳🥳

PS - Tried it again and got 13:55!

[sysig]

Red Eyes and Evil Time, practically the same thing right (Patreon)