#i think she’s the only person in the entire show who did?

[sterredem]

Unexpected

Ferrari!driver!Reader x Jason Todd/wayne

Summary The world hates Y/n, but she loves Jason.

Warning slut shaming, hate, not proofread, spelling mistakes

A/N Sorry for the hiatus! Also I guess this kinda turned into a DC crossover? Been kinda into it and then I got this request sooo…… there is no mention of the superhero’s but you can imagine what you want! (Jason’s last name os Wayne)

This was a request!

Instagram

Liked by ScuderiaFerrari, Charles_Leclerc and 583.726 others

Yourusername Almost the start of the season! I’m so exited to finally get in the car and do what I love.

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User1 why are all het posts so dry??

User2 Ugh why is she even in f1?

User3 huh why? This is so random??

User2 well she’s not even good and the only way she got here is cause she slept with one of the higher ups

User3 huh???!!!

User4 this feels so pr scripted…

User5 she’s so cute tho…

User6 Points!!!

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Instagram

Liked by Bsfuser, WayneJand 62 others

Y/nPriv wknd dump: 1. Should I post this on main?? 2. Baking for the engineers cause they lovely 3. Readingg 4. My new hat😄 5. Watching Harry Potter 6. A bts from my car!

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Bsfuser 1. YES 2. You are too nice 3. Always 4. It’s cute! 5. Why wasn’t I invited :( 6. If you invite me than I can see it fr….

Y/nPriv 1. Okayyy 2. No.. 3. Yes 4. Thx love 5. Sorryyyy… 6. …….

Sisteruser y’all are so weird

Sisteruser can you come over and bake for me……?????

Y/nPriv do you only want me to come over so you can have free food?

Sisteruser ………..no…….

Friend1 cutie

Friend2 wait when are you gonna tell me how the gala went??

Y/nPriv soon my love. We should get lunch when I’m back and I’ll tell you about it!

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Podcast

Vironica: Hello everyone, and welcome to a nee episode of Formula One talk!

Sara: Hi guys!

Vironica: So today, we will talk about something that you guys have waited for for quite a while.

Sara: Yes! We will talk about Y/n Y/l/n! She is, currently, the only female driver on the grid, and we don’t know a lot about her, but today we will begin this episode with discussing her and her performance on the track!

Vironica: I couldn’t have explained it better! So if you slept under a rock, or if you are new to f1, this year is the first year in a very long time that a female driver on the grid. That female being Y/n Y/l/n. She made it where she is now quite fast, she is currently 21 and this is her first year on the grid.

Sara: Yes, and that is also basically everything that we know about her. She is a very private person, so the only thing we know is her age, how she got up to f1, a few of her close family, and the things she shows us on instagram. Which is not a lot, and a lot less than that we know about the other drivers.

Vironica: Yes, and I think that that is what started the negative opinion on her. With not a lot known about her, people are, obviously, going to think things. And that is what happened. Because Twitter immediately began spectating a lot of thing, and Sara, you have a few examples.

Sara: Yes, alright, I won’t say who tweeted it for privacy reasons. So here we go! ‘The reason that Y/n is so private is 100 percent because she did some shady things or whatever’ and ‘the only reason we know nothing about Y/n’ real stop shops is cause she never had a real one and only has one night stand like a sl*t’ the next one is ‘Y/n is so weird to me, like she loves all these nerdy things and loves all these geeky things, so how could she possibly be good at driving?’ And the last one ‘there finnaly being a woman on the grid and it being Y/n is such a disappointment, like we finally get some one that can maybe make a difference and it is the girl that is too scarred to say anything, yet alone stand against an entire group of people and speak up’

Victoria: Okay so there are some very mean things said, but there is also a layer of truth to some of it. And also, the only other thing that is known about her is that she loves movies, reading and baking. Which is totally different than formula 1 racing, so that raises the question of if she is really fit for her spot and this life. And a lot of people see her as wierd, we included, because how in the world can a girl that for not care at all about her public appearance, is now a very public figure, more than the other drivers because she is the first women in many years to be on the grid.

Sara: exactly! And then to top it all off, we haven’t really seen her interacting with the other drivers, so it could go both ways, either they all hate her, or there is something going on behind the scenes that we don’t know. And fans have been speculating about how the WAG’s thing about her, with them not saying anything, so would they be jealous, and is there a reason to be? We will be going further into it in this episode along with other things F1!

Comments

F1Fanatic valid tbh

User I think it is kinda mean but some points are valid, because why enter F1 if you don’t want anything from your life public?

User7 I hate girls being mean to girls

Y/nfan why are people so mean tho??

L4fan cause she deserves it…

Hshsh I think this may go a bit far…..

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Instagram

Liked by WayneJ, Bruce_Wayne and 627.725 others

Yourusername Thank you so much to the Wayne family for inviting me to the gala! It was such an honour to be there

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WayneEnterprises We are happy that you were there!

User7 WAIT WHAT???

User8 Insane that she was there!!

WayneJ Great to have you here!

User9 crossover from the century

User10 Does this mean they are now a sponsor ooorrr…..

User11 Probably now because otherwise Charles and other Ferrari people would be there…

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Instagram

Liked by Lewishamilton, WayneJ and 736.826 others

Yourusername first race of the season! I am so grateful for this amazing opportunity, and we already have points! This was such an amazing week and I am looking forward to more weeks like this!

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User12

User13

User1

User2

User3

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Article

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Instagram

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux, Lillymhe and 988.625 others

Yourusername I heard a little rumour….

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Alexandrasaintmleux I want what you have tho

Yourusername honey you have everything I want

Lilymhe I think I may want to hear it too…..

Yourusername I think I may want to tell you suddenly

OllieBearman wait what. Am I late??

LilyZneimer cant wait to see you!!

Francisca.cgomes DM me please right now

Kimi.antonelli uuuummmmm what is going on??

Kellypiquet I also heard something…. Not sure what it is…

User0 I love how this is not only her confirming the rumours between her and Jason but also silencing the haters and those podcast people and also the other WAG’s backing her up!

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Instagram

Liked by WayneJ, Ferrari and 1.012.523 others

Yourusername @WayneJ sooooo secrets out I guess….. happy anniversary Jason

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User4 OMG IM DYING WTF

User5 She a gold digger 100%

User6 bro she’s literally a f1 driver that basically means she’s a millionaire

User7 already a power couple

User8 IM FERAL THEY ARE SO HOT HEBHDGWHSBB

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Instagram

Liked by Yourusername, Bruce_Wayne and 2.624.143 others

WayneJ @yourusername already our first anniversary….

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User9 THEY ARE SO CUTE

WayneDamian bro’s a simp

Bruce_Wayne Be nice to your brother

Timdrake This is how I find out???

Dickgrayson congrats? How could you keep this a secret for one year tho???

User10 ALL THE WAYNE FAMILY IS HERE!!!

User11 OMG FINALLY SOME MORE CONTENT FROM MY FAVOURITE DRIVER!!

User12 I ALREADY LOVE THEM!!

User13 this is actually soooooo cute I CABT ANYMORE

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It might be a bit mixed up but I started writing when the last season was still going on, and I changed it to the current season…

[mulderscully]

Momentarily breaking my hiatus to further discuss the issue with the new collector edition of RWRB and why Casey's response (or lack therof) is disappointing.

Here is a link to the post I made detailing what is going on. Please read if if you are unaware.

Now, a direct quote from RWRB,

"And I'm not white like she is, can't even pass for it. People are always gonna come down harder on me."

Casey wrote these lines in the book so if they ever made a film/tv show they did not cast a white passing person to play Alex. This statement is in the annotated version of RWRB that you can look up online.

I want to discuss what being white passing means. I am a white passing latina. I have direct family members who are not white passing. My DNA just worked in a way where you see my Spanish ancestry more than my African or Native, but I have all three. Because of this, I benefit from white privilege.

However, it is important to keep in mind that passing as white now sometimes does not mean what it did historically. White passing means you can pass as white so that racist white people will not deny you certain opportunities based on your ethnicity or race. It was and sometimes still is something POC choose to do. For example, Oscar Isaac uses a passing stage name. Choose to pass. It is a denial of part of who you are to further your endeavors in a world built of oppression. Now it also means someone may look at you simply assume you are white, but that is NOT all that it means.

And even I, with my pale skin, sometimes say "I know I'm white passing." and immediately have (usually white) people say something like "No, you're not. I immediately knew you were latina when I saw you."

Now, I take people recognizing me as latine as a positive. It makes me happy because I am proud of my identity. But there is the other aspect of me not being as passing as I think I am, even though my skin tone is really light. A racist "real" white person would still descrimate against me because my blood is not "pure."

I'm mentioning this because I have seen multiple people say that the art inside this edition is fine, because Taylor Zakhar Perez is white passing.

Taylor is not white passing.

He has talked multiple times his difficultly in getting roles, the moment in the movie where he discusses prejudice against latinos is from personal experience between him and Matthew. I want you to understand that it is not only about Taylor being brown or not brown enough to play Alex, it's about his name, it's about his facial feature — his warm skin tone, but also the shape of his beautiful nose amongst other things — that make it clear that he is a man of color. Looking at Taylor, it is clear that he is a latino man with middle eastern and mediterranean ancestry as well.

But this isn't even about Taylor because we are talking about the book.

In the political world a character like Alex would never ever be mistaken for white. Alex probably never is unaware that he isn't fully white. That is what "can't even pass for it." means. It means since his mother became president, everyone knows her kid is Mexican, is brown, is not what is considered "white." by US American standards.

Remember, latino is not a race. Colorism is rampant. And since Alex is half white he is probably lighter than other latinos, esp afrolatinos, as we see on the original pink cover of RWRB. He's clearly darker than Henry there, though!

In the two arts Casey approved and endorsed not only is his skin tone various shades lighter than TZP's in the one that used his likeness, but he is given european features in the other as well. They chose to sell a book — for $80 — where Alex is drawn as white/white passing when the entire reason they wrote that line was to avoid something like this happening.

For over a week now fans (mainly latinos) have been imploring Casey to say something about this, because it's very unlike them to do this — but they haven't. This is upsetting because Casey is not latine. Not white latine either. Not latine AT ALL. If you are writing a character that is part of a community you are not a part of you have to show up for that community to the best of your ability.

At a time like this, Casey's behavior is really disappointing and the only person to blame is Casey for that. Not Taylor's casting. Casey for approving this edition and promoting it on their Instagram.

I think it was probably a fuck up, and now they're frozen and unsure how to handle it. I like Casey, I LOVE their books and think they seem like a good person. But this has opened some discussions that I think are being mishandled in various ways.

I'm logging off again for a bit, but I wanted to share my feelings on this a week out. Take care everyone 🩷

[twstfanblog]

Heyyyyy so uhhhhh…

What if the mc back in their world was a slave? Not servant like jamil, just, straight up slave where their opinion didn’t matter :( n they r female, afab, pronounce she/they? Hopefully nothing bad happened but people who get slaves r bad people so :((( overblot boys pls 🙏🥺

I feel like they would all threaten crowley to absolutely NOT look for a way to send mc home n to stop making her do his things cause that reminds her of back home in a very bad way :(

N then they comfort n hold the mc cause they r safe n wont have to be treated like shit anymore :(

They will punch anyone who treats em like shit

Which practically everyone in school did when they arrived at NRC, and they just thought ‘this is normal’. :(

Overblot Boys React to Slave Reader

Overblot Boys x Reader

Riddle

Lowkey saw you as an ideal student. Polite, respectful, and mindful of the rules. So he wouldn't notice anything past a few odd ticks that he himself wouldn't fully question since his own upbringing was shitty.

It takes him and Ace having an argument, Riddle brings up that Ace can learn a thing or two from you on being a respectful student. And Ace fires back on you being a SLAVE. Of course, his overbearing ass would love that. And Riddle has to really think about what kinda person that makes him that he didn't even notice.

He talks to you, wanting personal confirmation on what Ace had blurted out. Once he gets the confirmation, his attitude gets much softer. You don't get as harsh treatment for rule-breaking, but he's still stern about them.

End game, he makes up a secondary set of rules for you only. Rules like 'We say something if we are uncomfortable' or 'We are allowed to say No'. He just gets much softer but remains true on rules being important. He just also stresses that you should have your own personal rules now.

Leona

Clocked immediately you came from a background of servitude, though he wasn't aware how severe it was.

He didn't plan on getting invovled but his little bleeding heart took Ruggie under his wing for a reason. It was one part pity and mostly annoyance seeing you getting bullied by his dorm everyday.

You basically get 'Leona's Servant' boot camp with Ruggie suddenly. He teaches you how Leona likes his laundry tended to and what snack flavors he prefers. It's a smooth transition from slave to servant until Ruggie tells you it's free game to steal from Leona.

Leona never brings it up, but he knows your old home was not a good environment. He also knows he can't just fling you into a healthier dynamic with those around you, so he'll do it slowly and sneakily. Ruggie is the perfect one to bridge the gap for him to start spoiling you.

Azul

Knew something was off but had no real frame of reference. He would make little theories and try to figure out why you act the way you do. He only started thinking you had come from a background of servitude when you follow orders so quickly.

Honestly doesn't know how to feel because he did do slavery in tricking the contracted students into working at the lounge against their will. He's not entirely sure how to save face with you after he's come across as a cruel and unfair slaver. Lowkey uses his overblot aftermath as an excuse for a fresh start with you.

He starts treating you kinder, making sure to address you properly and showing that he respects you. People from his dorm follow his lead, at least. The Tweels are part-time bodyguards, making your old bullies more hesitant to start anything because an eel might slip out of a crack or something.

Azul is a sneaky one too, slowly helping you raise your standard of how you should be treated by others. If you get him blabbing long enough, he'll slip into just stating how precious you are to him.

Jamil

I'm sorry, even with the English sanitation, Jamil’s situation can only come across as slavery to me. He's a very well cared for slave because Kalim adores him, but a slave none the less.

It's a little jarring to him to see someone who really could understand. But he's so used to keeping himself guarded he never reached out in a friendly sense. Treating you more like a new coworker; helpful but distant. It wasn't until you accidently broke something in Scarabia and nearly had a panic attack when Kalim looked at you does he realize how severe punishment was back in your world.

Gets much softer to you. It's sad because he does love and care about you, but he would not allow you to be with him long term. You've managed to come to a new world where your old masters can't reach you, you're free. Don't waste it following him back into a life of servitude.

Jamil would understand you the best so he'd be the one to really push and guide you to trying new experiences with your freedom. Wants you to be selfish and use your friends' kindness to make your life better. If he never gets his dream of being able to travel the world he wants you to be able to.

(Should the miracle happen and he and Kalim have the conversation finally, Jamil would go globe trotting with you. He legit has thoughts of just not going back and disappearing with you.)

Vil

I don't think he'd mean anything malicious by it. But he would end up treating you like a purse dog for a while.

Vil has a strong and cemented personality and sense of worth. Dealing with someone as passive as an abused slave, he would easily bulldoze over them and not really notice. Because he'd basically have you on the 'Betterment Plan' he has Epel.

He saw the potential and just kept going because you never said stop. Lots of beauty routines, he picks outfits for you for outings, basically has you as his shadow before either Rook or Epel bring up how he's running you ragged.

Vil never dealt with someone who's come from the situation you did. The very idea that 'No' wasn't a boundary you were ever allowed horrified him for a bit. But like the queen he is, he doesn't try to defend his misstep and goes right into correcting his behavior. The introduction of choices was the best start, but you slowly start saying no to events and choices and Vil couldn't be more delighted.

Idia

Lowkey, I'm not sure if he'd notice in any capacity until you told him point-blank. Idia is the one of the boys who sticks mostly to himself and he'd avoid you if he saw you constantly being hounded by other students.

But, if you managed to get close enough to him, he'd question why you always freeze up when your bullies call you? Why running isn't an option you take? And then you'd tell him about where you came from and how running never ended well for you or the other slaves...

He's not one I think would actively try to curb your behaviors but it would effect his own. Now when he sees you being bullied there's a high chance he'll use what power he has a housewarden to get them to leave. When he's sneaking around, he'll catch your eye and give the mental offer to come hide out in his room with him. He becomes a legit safe space for you to just breath since no one but Ortho really enters his room.

He's had to stop you multiple times from cleaning his room. Yes, it's a mess. No, you don't have to thank him by cleaning. Yes, he's aware you can also keep his stuff organized for him while you clean. You don't have to clean, you aren't his maid. (He is terrified he will ruin your friendship the second you find anything embarrassing under his piles of junk. Like a body pillow, or a 18+ comic, or a stray love note he wrote you-)

Malleus

Adorable you think the bonds of slavery from an unknown world matter to him. Malleus is...a prince, a crown prince at that. I don't think he has 'slaves' but with servants of royalty, I'm never really sure. But anyhow, this boy hasn't been told no enough in his life and it shows.

So when you try to back away from the friendship a bit under the fact of you being a slave and not...worthy of his princely company. He just decides you aren't a slave anymore. Just wills and speaks it into existence. There, it's fixed. You can continue being his beloved child of man, now come. He has a new gargoyle he wants to show you.

Fae to me have favorites, and they love to keep an eye on them. So god help some poor schmuck who tries to bully you into doing their work after Malleus has decided you don't do that anymore... You start saying No and leaving the situation with much more effectiveness because the other choice is Malleus making some poor student drop out for fear of their life.

Malleus canonically ignores the autonomy of others for his own gain. So it would be a really weird balance of him simply stating that you are your own being capable of choice and that your old-world status as a slave doesn't matter here. But with that new free status, you are also his best friend, who will come on night walks with him, talk with him, and make friendship bracelets.

[bwat5-blog]

A Look At The "Nothing Character" Who Broke Our Hearts: Isha

**Spoilers For Arcane**

I must say, there was a time not so long ago that if someone were to tell me there was a whole tag devoted to the hatred of a cute, tenacious, brave little girl character who died tragically trying to emulate her hero, I would have found the idea completely insane. However, since becoming a part of our little community....

Before we get into this a bit let me say, I am not formally educated in writing/literature/creative story telling or any of that. So what I discuss and list will as usual be the research I could find on my own with sources provided. I know for a fact through some of my interactions on here there are some very educated people in this area, so if any of you see this and care enough, please chime in! I'd love to learn more.

What Is The Complaint?:

"Isha isn't a real character!"

"Isha did nothing except get blown up!"

"Why was this kid even in the show?"

"Isha's only purpose was to give Jinx a reason to be happy then take it away!"

You get the idea. Overall people seem to hate the character because they feel she really wasn't one. They see her as being more of a singular plot device with no real information or depth given and not having any real purpose. While it is true we don't learn a ton about her, I completely disagree as to the worth and impact of her character on the story. In doing some digging, I came across the following term:

Catalyst Character-

Per Reference.com: "A catalyst character, also known as a catalytic character, is the character in a story who causes the protagonist, or main character, to move toward some kind of action or transformation. This character is usually the person that spends the most quality and influential time with the protagonist."

Okay, rather or not you agree or think it matters I'd hope at the least that that explanation is fairly clear. So moving forward, why do I think this applied to Isha? Because she is in all aspects a MASSIVE agent of change in the narrative. I understand not liking her. That is totally individual. But to imply she didn't matter is complete and utter nonsense.

The Ventilation Chamber Battle:

The brawl between Vi and Jinx has come to a head. Vi sits atop Jinx with one gauntlet around Jinx's throat and the other poised to kill her. Jinx is telling her to do it... she's glad that Vi is the one who is going to end her. When out of nowhere Isha leaps between them pointing a gun at Vi. '

Concrete Impact:

Stops the fight cold

Jinx immediately screams no betraying her actual fear for Vi's safety

Snaps Vi out of the fight where it appears she was quite possibly pulling back her hand to finish the fight

Isha's presence is what makes Vi get in front of Caitlyn's rifle leading to their separation and what occurs for them afterward.

Jinx clearly is "seeing" Vi again for the first time when Vi leaps to stop Caitlyn

2. Life With Jinx:

We return to Jinx after the time skip. It turns she has been living quietly in hiding with Isha since the battle. She is staying out of the bloodshed, focusing on her relationship caring for the young girl. She seems more at peace than we have seen her the entire series, even declaring "Jinx is dead" when Sevika comes to demand she get involved.

Concrete Impact:

It's strange to say for something I list under concrete but just the obvious and clear effect she has on Jinx herself. We see it expressed in many ways, such as Jinx saying Isha reminds her of Powder, Jinx saying she doesn't want to screw up what she has with Isha when in Silco's office, and so on. I feel like we could do an entire analysis post on Isha's effect on Jinx mental/emotional state but that is for another time.

The fact that Isha is masquerading as Jinx during the occupation is HUGE. We have to remember, Jinx is not actually getting involved at all before the events of the rally. The people of Zaun have made her their symbol because of what she did, and because Piltover has made Jinx their symbol of why they are doing what they are doing.

It is only because Isha went to the rally and got arrested that Jinx rejoins the fight.

3. Jinx Comes To Stillwater:

Isha has been arrested along with a large group of Zaunites during the rally. Sevika limps back to the hideout and tells Jinx who is immediately extremely upset. We see her seriously glitching in full for the first time since the time skip. She and Sevika mount a rescue mission, and because of Isha. Jinx rejoins the game since the occupation began.

Concrete Impact:

Without Isha being taken Jinx doesn't get involved which quite literally changes the trajectory of the entire story. Meeting Vander again and everything that stems from that would be impacted which quite literally could effect every character in the story. It is too much to list or "what if".

4. Reuniting The Family:

In the wake of meeting Vander and rescuing Isha, Jinx goes and finds Vi in the fighting pits, telling her what she has found and together with Isha they set off on a journey to find him. Leading to the all-too-short reunification of their family, with their newest member of course.

Concrete Impact:

Of course to state the obvious, they wouldn't be here if it were not for any of the things we have already been over.

When Jinx and Vi start to fighting, once again it is Isha's involvement that stops it cold.

Seeing Jinx's care for Isha is what helps Vi start to see her sister in a new light.

It is Isha's bleeding from getting whacked that draws Vander to them. Vi immediately leaps to save her life and Jinx can see the Vi she knows is still there as well. Also being thrown into Vander's path like that leads to his regaining control and the scene we see above.

5. The Commune:

After their family is reunited Vi, Jinx and Isha take Vander to the commune to meet with Viktor. Hoping his healing gifts can save their father. Of course, it all ends in soul rending tragedy with Vander losing control and Isha sacrificing herself to save her new family during a Noxian attack.

Concrete Impact:

Isha brings Jinx's gun. Without the gun the plan to save Vander could have gone a hundred different ways.

Isha pocketed those stones. If she hadn't done so once again it is impossible to list all the ways that incident could have changed in the end.

The impact on the story from Isha's sacrifice is so far beyond "making Jinx sad" it is mind-boggling. It stops the attack in its tracks. Without Vi getting injured saving Jinx from the explosion, Caitlyn and Jinx may have never found even that microscopic bit of common ground between them we see. There is so much more and that is to say nothing of the impact on Jinx mentally/emotionally

Conclusion:

So again this is not a true deep dive or anything. And I do understand the complaint that we really don't ever learn a ton about her. But I absolutely do not understand or agree with the complaint that she is meaningless/unimportant/inconsequential to the story. Her actions and presence drive a massive amount of change in the course of season two, and without her it very likely could have all ended quite differently. To close, below is an English translation of Isha's farewell posted to reddit for you to enjoy. (I have no way of knowing if it is accurate so if not forgive me).

Child, don’t fear the thorns; walk barefoot, And you’ll find something precious. Look at this darkened sky; see how beautiful the fireworks are. There’s no need for so much sorrow. People flourish and wither, But even stubborn rocks and debris will bloom.

Part the mountains, Let her see me. Tell the stars, Hurry and shine on me. Blow away the dark clouds, With a stroke of blue. Even if the world is full of desolation, We can look up and see the moon.

While we still have the hearts of children, Even as lone blossoms among millions, we must bloom. Don’t be troubled or sad. Don’t forget: Even if tears fall, we must keep running, Run to where even time can’t find us. Be the birds that soar at the edge of the sky.

Part the mountains, Let her see me. Tell the stars, Hurry and shine on me. Blow away the dark clouds, With a stroke of blue. Even if the world is full of desolation, We can look up and see the moon.

While we still have the hearts of children, Even as lone blossoms among millions, we must bloom. Don’t be troubled or sad. Don’t forget: Even if tears fall, we must keep running, Run to where even time can’t find us. Be the birds that soar at the edge of the sky.

Don’t keep searching; Just give me a hug. Let’s quietly forget, For this is good enough for me.

[storkmuffin]

The Magic of San (6/n)

Marilyn Monroe Sidebar #4/4 ( Sidebar 1, Sidebar 2, Sidebar 3)

No but seriously, you guys, there are so many similarities between Marilyn Monroe and Choi San. Please agree with me.

On and off.

Marilyn Monroe was fabulous at being a movie star. She could turn it on or off at whim, according to at least one friend (Lee Strasberg's daughter). She was invisible just walking along the street in normal clothes in New York City, dressed simply, and nobody noticed her, beyond maybe, Oh that's a pretty lady. Then she asked her friend, Do you want me to become her? and the person who witnessed it happen couldn't actually articulate what it is she did, only that she did something and suddenly Norma Jean was gone and Marilyn Monroe was there, in the same clothes and get up but nevertheless suddenly present, and people swarmed.

Marilyn was also apparently absolutely delightful to fans. Anyone who ever saw her at a movie premier had a wonderful time, because she loved the red carpet, loved her fans, and really 'performed' being a movie star for them.

In his TokToq Live on 2025.1.19, San said that he sometimes has this feeling that he is 'not himself' when he's performing on stage. (TBF, I have heard Beyonce say this too, actually, and she names her stage persona entirely different from her actual name). Furthermore, he is often told that he "looks like San of Ateez" but nobody ever actually clocks him. This has led him, in his characteristic way, to wonder "Is my flesh and blood self not very exciting?" (내가 실물이 별로인가?) but I think possibly, he has this "on" persona and an "off" persona. "On" San is immediately recognizable, "off" San just looks like a boy who looks a lot like San of Ateez. There's a great post that makes the distinction between San and "Sanimal." I wonder if all great stars have this??

San shows a lot of deliberation about what it means to be an idol. There are expectations for how he is supposed to behave. San has learned what the rules are, and wants very much to adhere to them. He's paired with Wooyoung a lot, who also is very aware of what the rules are, and gets off on deliberately flouting them. San will calmly lecture Wooyoung about his failure to behave like an Idol, insisting "remember you're an Idol" when Wooyoung purposefully acts against the role of model citizen that S. Korean society demands of Idols.

On a different live, (2025.1.27) San has addressed when the fans in attendance who were apparently cursing at him to get his attention. He laid out his boundaries: He can tolerate 미친 but beyond that is a bit difficult to stomach. He said note that since many foreigners are all intentinoally learning Korean swear words, he tries to accept the strong language when it is used as adjectives - as in 'fucking' is fine if it's in the context of "I fucking loved the show" perhaps, but a straight up, aggressively intended "fuck you" would not be ok. Then he said, as a statement, 여러분은 평생 내가 욕하는 거 들을 리 없겠지만. (You would never hear me swear your whole lives.) I thought this was an extraordinary statement for a guy who's 25 and planning to stay in the public eye decades to say. How would that be sustainable? But he intends to see it through - of that I have no doubt.

Studious

Both San and Marilyn are hardworking people, sure, but I actually think most people are hardworking if you give them something with even a modicum of meaning. What San and Marilyn are, actually, are studious, almost bookish.

Marilyn had a major intellectual hunger that was never actually fulfilled, mostly because given the combination sexism and resentment that her great beauty inspired, she was so relentlessly mocked for her intellectual curiosity. But she read, challenging herself to difficult texts, wrote, had considered and rather brave political opinions. Towards the end of her life, Marilyn was trying to figure herself out by making recordings of her thoughts, going to therapy, taking difficult acting classes, and for a while, very reliant on a strict acting coach. Marilyn and Natasha Lytesse are still speculated on as being lovers, which I don't really care about, but Marilyn did insist on having Natasha present on her sets and listened only to her. This too was mocked, but I assume Marilyn's reliance on this coach wasn't just the usefulness of whatever coaching she got - Lytesse was possibly the only person on set who took Marilyn seriously as an artist. Marilyn kept wanting to get better, and be serious, and make art.

As a bookish person who also loves the idea of expanding my inner world by taking in external stimulus, it always hurts me that Marilyn never had anybody take her intellectual yearnings seriously - not Joe DiMaggio, not Arthur Miller, very few of her male costars, even fewer directors. She was just born at the wrong time, in so many ways. I feel like her equivalent may actually be Nicole Kidman - a superlatively beautiful actress who wants to make dark material. Kidman of course was raised in a stable, intellectual home.

San has exhibited a similar lack of pride and hunger for artistic achievement. It can't have been easy, necessarily, to be a stiff, slightly awkward dancer with mostly a martial arts background asking for coaching and attention from very near peers. It speaks to a lackof unnecessary pride, which I think is rare to find in very young people. San's dance performances are to my eye the most 'ballet' to me, in terms of his having absorbed whatever classes he got in formal dance training and insisting on keeping those in his body. San is, along with Hong Joong, the only singer in this singing group that seems to just constantly burst into song. (I have not seen a long of Jongho footage, tbf). Whenever he's bored, waiting for other people to get ready for him, or his mood improves, he just starts singing. Other members have said that he's a bit of a practice nut, constantly working on improving himself in a way they found transformative and inspirational.

And one more thing -

Throughout the European concert tour, San has discussed his continuing to study English. He devotes 30 minutes per day every day to studying, and he does it using a very standard textbook. I found this so moving, that he would tell people about it (creating external accountability) and be so sweetly proud of the progress he was making in his book.

San is gifted at languages by the way. I too am gifted at languages, so I am the authority on this. This Atiny on Tumblr has noticed it too, that he has an ear and a knack for correct pronunciation ( in this case, German). His English pronunciation seem like real accomplishments to me. I assume that his being a gifted singer has something to do with this - he can hear with great attention to detail, so it helps him replicate the sounds better. During their Japanese TV special, San made a concerted effort to try to speak Japanese with the people that he met as well as the crew, even if it's imperfect, because this is how you improve. (Yunho seems the most fluent in Japanese, but that's just ... Yunho, to be good at all the idol things lol, which in Kpop includes speaking Japanese).

The encouragement and admiration that San's fans express for him when he talks about studying English or Japanese is something I'm so happy he has, and I wish Marilyn had had something like that too. **

**Though I don't know -would she? If say, another (I think) very smart, sexy little blonde (say, Sabrina Carpenter) went on social media and talked about how she was teaching herself German so she could read Goethe, would her fans support her?

[catcherwrites]

Welcome to Part III of my Soren & Sarai Crownguard fic! Below is the chapter, but if you want to read it elsewhere, you can find it here on AO3. Part IV is also done and will be posted later today, so keep an eye out for Soren’s chapter!

Recognising that Soren needs some...help...with his defensive skills, Sarai trains him in the courtyard of Katolis Castle. Perhaps she can show the boy that he's got someone in his corner?

——————————————

“Are you sure about this particular lesson?” Harrow asked Sarai, his hand firmly in hers as they overlooked the courtyard of Katolis Castle. “Soren might be a fast learner but he’s still a novice, and if he makes a mistake, you and our child could get hurt.”

“I know what I’m doing, Harrow,” she assured him. “We’ll be fine.”

Like second nature, Sarai moved her free hand to gently touch her belly through her personally tailored tunic. The seamstress was…certainly concerned when Sarai had requested clothing that she could spar in – but one look from Harrow had been all the warning the woman needed before she thought to question the Princess Consort’s choice of attire again.

Her husband gently kissed her on the cheek as he pointed to a small figure below them. Wooden sword in hand, Sarai watched as Soren practised his formations against a training dummy. He was dressed in the tunic, vest, and pants she’d had made for him: light fabric that matched the training attire of the Crownguard recruits, tailored to his small size. His messy blonde hair was getting a little too long, though, and Sarai knew she’d have to talk with Soren about either tying it back or getting it cut again.

They watched in silence for a few more moments as the force of one of Soren’s strikes knocked the training dummy over. She could hear him grumble before picking it up and beginning the formation again. For what it was worth, he had a natural gift for swordplay, even if Sarai could still see the inexperience bleeding through his movements. Each rush forward, each audible grunt, each pause as he admired a new dent in the training dummy screamed out to her Crownguard-honed senses. ‘I’m an easy target! I rush into fights without thinking twice! Hit me, I dare you!’

Sarai admired his confidence. But if she didn’t help Soren temper it, his hubris would kill him.

Harrow spoke again. “Someone else could take over training him. It doesn’t have to be entirely on you anymore.”

“He needs this.”

“The sword lessons?” her husband asked, raising his eyebrows. “Or you?”

Sarai shrugged. “Can’t it be both?”

That was the other reason she insisted on being Soren’s teacher, even while carrying Katolis’ heir. The boy needed her. No one else knew his history, struggles, or strengths quite like Sarai did. As extroverted as the boy was, he seemed to have a hard time connecting with others as of late.

Perhaps it had something to do with the castle’s stiff atmosphere. Soren was, for lack of a better word, isolated. Sarai frowned as she thought back to when Viren entered the throne room and numbly announced that Lissa had left for Del Bar, then of Viren’s increasingly long hours in the High Mage’s office. Her mind jumped to Claudia’s erratic behaviour, the girl’s mood shifting rapidly between reclusive-yet-studious mage’s apprentice and reclusive-yet-mischievous local delinquent. The only other child roaming the castle was Callum, but as friendly as her son was, he had his limits. The boys’ interests fundamentally opposed the others’. Sarai could hardly picture Soren quietly drawing all day, nor Callum committing to several hours' worth of races around the castle.

And so, Sarai would watch from afar as Soren wandered the halls alone, with too much fire in his body for others to handle – something she could understand all too well. Sarai had been lucky to have Amaya, who matched her energy perfectly, growing and playing together on the outskirts of their hometown. In the open fields, there were no expectations to be ‘proper’ or ‘well-behaved.’ But here in the castle, servants and soldiers alike glared when a child got underfoot one too many times.

Sighing, the Princess Consort quickly wrapped her arms around her Prince in quiet farewell. Then they parted ways, Harrow walking back to the throne room and Sarai heading down the steps. She’d hardly reached the courtyard itself before Soren noticed her arrival and sprinted to greet her, wooden sword in hand.

“Princess Sarai!” he eagerly cried. Sarai smiled and gently ruffled his blonde hair.

“When we’re training, I’m not a princess, remember?” she told him. “Do you want to try that again?”

“Oh…oh right!” Before Sarai could stop him, Soren darted to the training dummy, took one more swing, and spun around with pretend surprise. Stoically, he marched back to her before giving a salute. “Ma’am.”

She chuckled under her breath. That hadn’t been what Sarai meant exactly, but she played along anyway.

“At ease, soldier.”

Soren relaxed and gave her an even bigger grin. “Yes, ma’am, yes” he declared proudly. The two of them started walking back to the training dummy as Sarai eyed the nearby Crownguard, all of whom were keeping a close watch. Perhaps it was out of curiosity for the coming lesson, exasperation at Soren’s boisterous personality, or fear for the future heir, but the effect was the same. The moment Soren took notice, he shrunk under the eyes of his heroes.

“Don’t pay them any mind,” Sarai murmured kindly, placing a protective hand on the boy’s shoulder.

Soren nodded, and just as quickly as he had begun worrying about the adults, he’d stopped. Sarai saw his eyes brighten as Soren shouted across the courtyard at an approaching figure, a sketchbook in their arms.

Sarai’s son. Her precious boy.

“Hey, Callum! Are you gonna fight today?” Soren hollered. Callum froze, his eyes flitting between his mother and Soren, the training dummy covered in dents and chips, and the wooden sword Soren was confidently flipping in his hand. Sarai shot her son a silent look of support.

Callum gave a weak smile to Sarai and shook his head. “No thank you, Soren. I’ll sit under the tree and draw.”

Soren wrinkled his nose. “You and Claudia are no fun…”

“Hey,” Sarai butted in, wanting to stop that train of thought as soon as possible. “Callum doesn’t have to learn sword-fighting just yet – not until he’s a teenager. That’s the traditional age for a Prince of Katolis.”

“But I’m not really a prince, Mama,” Callum said, sitting on the bench. He tilted his head in curiosity. “Do you think that means Prince Harrow will let me skip all the fighting stuff?”

Sarai wasn’t sure what to say in response to that. She knew they’d have to talk about their complicated family dynamic eventually, but now was not the time nor place. Callum was struggling with a lot of changes in rapid succession, and the last thing he needed was his mom interrupting his activity for ‘Big Feelings Time.’

So, she tabled that thought and refocused on Soren.

“Are you ready for today’s session?”

Soren brightened up. “Yeah! What am I learning?”

Fast, though perhaps not faster than lightning, Sarai kicked up a spare wooden sword lying on the ground beside her. Catching it in mid-air, she swung in a dramatic flourish towards Soren’s neck before stopping an inch from his skin. Sarai had to hand it to Soren; he barely flinched. But that also meant he didn’t move to defend himself at all. It had to come from either trust or complacency, and Sarai wasn’t sure yet which one she was going to train out of him.

“That.” She gestured to the sword she held against his neck, and then to the sword hanging lax at his side.

The boy looked hopelessly lost.

“…How to…behead people?” he asked with a bewildered look.

Sarai shook her head in exasperation. “No, Soren.” She stepped back and took a defensive position, sword up and ready. “We’ll be focusing on the art of defence.” She began moving, carefully avoiding imaginary strikes from an invisible attacker.

Soren grimaced but nodded his head anyway. “I prefer attacking,” he said with a shrug.

“You’re allowed a preference,” Sarai admitted. “But defence is critical in sword-fighting. Skills like parrying are all about angle, motion, and anticipation – all things that transfer well to offensive skills, too. Learn how to analyse and defend against your opponent, and you’ll end the fight quickly. Misjudge your opponent, and it’s over for the wrong reason.”

The old captain gestured again to Soren’s sword, still dangling limp in his hand. “Now, show me your standard second position.”

That was all it took for Soren to spring into action. He brought his arms up and shifted his feet until he was standing on the defensive. Sarai observed closely, watching for a flaw in his stance, but there was hardly any. Soren was leaning forward on his feet a little too much again, but one light tap of her sword against his spine was all the reminder Soren needed to straighten up.

“Let me be very clear,” Sarai told him sternly, “for this activity, you are not to take an offensive position under any circumstances. I will attack you, and you will defend.”

“But what if you leave an opening? Can I attack you then?”

“No. A Crownguard must be able to follow orders without question. If I’ve told you not to attack me, that means…?”

Soren bowed his head. “I will not attack you.”

“Good.”

She moved into the standard first position – ready to go on the offensive. Usually, Sarai would offer a countdown before they began sparring, but today she gave Soren no such leeway. A worthwhile enemy would never broadcast their attack, and this trial by fire was no exception.

Sarai struck hard and fast, bringing her arm in a downward swing. Soren’s wooden blade met hers in the middle with an audible thwack.

“Parry, parry, parry,” Sarai narrated with each successful blow Soren countered. She kept the attacks simple, with no pattern or technicality to them. It served as a decent warm-up for the two of them to go through the motions. Sarai did intentionally leave a gap in her stance, one that Soren could be tempted to exploit, but true to the boy’s word, he bit his lip and left it alone.

They continued sparring for quite a while before Sarai eventually called out. “Break!”

Trained to do so when Sarai spoke that word, Soren sprang away immediately. He beamed at her, sweat running down his forehead, and Sarai couldn’t help but return the smile.

“That was good for a warm-up, Soren.”

He glowed in response to her praise.

“Thank you, ma’am!”

“I was very impressed with your appropriate choice of blocking; you didn’t try to show off.” Sarai watched as his blush only grew. “But you need to be more aware of your surroundings – you almost fell over the training dummy earlier.”

Soren’s face fell slightly, and he scowled at the dummy. “It got in the way.”

“And it’s your job to make sure it doesn’t get in the way again.”

They took their marks once more, with Sarai informing Soren that she’d try a different approach to her attacks. “Remember: analyse your opponent and act accordingly.”

“I’m ready,” the boy smirked.

She began with a forward motion into Soren’s chest but, when parried, followed it with an attempted disarming slice to his shoulder. Soren caught the movement in time to block her again, and the two fell into a rhythm. Fast, though perhaps not faster than lightning, Sarai would thrust, cut, and swing the sword, shifting her feet to try and get behind Soren. Thankfully, Soren had heeded her earlier advice and managed to avoid both her and the training dummy.

It was a perfect execution of the Deceiver’s Drill – Soren must have been spying on the Crownguard’s training sessions. He was grinning ear to ear as they continued to spar one another.

“Parry, parry, parry, parry –”

“Argh!”

Sarai’s practice sword stopped an inch from Soren’s clavicle, with Soren’s blade in a blocking motion close to the ground, nowhere near where she was attacking.

“You’re dead.”

Soren huffed in agitation, dropping his sword to the ground and bringing his hands to his face in a loud sigh. “That’s not how that one goes!” he exclaimed.

“Oh really?” asked Sarai. “And why is that?”

“You were doing the Deceiver’s Drill! After striking the ribs, you’re meant to crouch down and slice the ankles so I can’t walk! But you didn’t!”

Her apprentice’s agitation died down the moment Sarai raised an eyebrow at him.

“I want you to take a second and think about it, Soren. Really, really think about it. Why did I change the move?”

Sarai could see Soren’s mind race as he tried to come up with a reason for the altered manoeuvre. Finally, she saw the realisation dawn on him.

“You’re pregnant,” he groaned.

“I am. What does that mean?”

Soren started pacing, gesturing as he spoke. “Babies are heavy! I remember I almost fell over trying to hold Clauds back when she was little. So if you’ve got a baby in your belly, it means you’ll probably fall over if you bend down too – so you decided to attack higher up instead! I messed up because I was ant…intacip…”

“Anticipating?” Sarai offered. Soren nodded.

“I was ant…ic…ipat…ing the Deceiver’s Drill. Not you.”

“Exactly. In a real battle, it’s very rare that your opponent will execute a manoeuvre exactly as it was taught, because they’ll know you were trained to counter it. A good warrior will analyse their opponent for who they really are, rather than assuming their enemy’s next move based on what they’re ‘meant’ to be.”

Soren glared at his feet. “I’m so stupid…”

Sarai shook her head emphatically. “I disagree. You’re incredibly smart to have learned the Deceiver’s Drill at your age, and you pieced together where you went wrong very quickly.”

“That’s not being smart, though. Dad’s smart, Claudia’s smart – they read books and stuff and know tricky words like anti…whatever. You don’t need a brain to swing a sword; that’s what everyone says!”

Sarai was almost certain it wasn’t what ‘everyone’ was saying. Still, Soren’s twisted idea of intelligence had to have come from somewhere, and it pained her to think where he learned it.

“There are different kinds of smart, Soren.” She crouched down to pick up the practice sword and offered it to him. “Some people are book-smart, some people are people-smart, some are sword-smart, and some are what I like to call heart-smart.” Sarai gave Soren a comforting smile.

“I think you’re more kinds of smart than you believe.”

The young boy looked at her doubtfully, but he accepted the weapon. “…Can we do it one more time? I want to try something else.”

Sarai nodded and got on her feet, resuming the standard first position across from Soren. He brought his sword up as well, and they began. Sarai found herself having to increase the difficulty of her attacks as Soren quickly entered a flow state. There were no thoughts, just an acknowledgement of the ways Sarai’s movements needed to be countered with equal intensity. To test him again, Sarai offered another weakness for Soren to exploit, wondering if he’d let mindless instinct guide him to attack, even against her explicit instructions.

What she did not expect, was for Soren to slip his blade through her sword arm and pull sharply. The sudden pressure on Sarai’s arm grew worse the longer she held onto her sword, and she found herself losing grip.

Soren was a clever boy indeed; disarming was undoubtedly a more aggressive form of defence, but it was defence nonetheless and, thus, allowed by her own rules. Even still, she wouldn’t let him win that easily. Sarai dropped her sword and caught it in her offhand before quickly executing what her old master called the ‘Sky-Stripped Swing’ – a technique that launched an opponent’s weapon in the air.

And launch, it did. The two of them followed the wooden sword’s arc as it sailed through the air until it landed with a heavy impact in the boughs of the tree Callum was sitting beneath. A split second was all it took for Sarai and Soren to realise what would happen next. Time seemed to slow as one of the larger branches cracked from the force of the sword.

She was fast, though perhaps not faster than lightning. If Sarai were in her prime, perhaps she would’ve made it to Callum before he got hurt, but all she could do was call out his name as the branch began to fall. It was Soren who moved fast enough to act. With reflexes accrued from months of training and speed achieved from countless races, Soren sprinted to the bench with a shout.

“Callum! Duck!”

Soren threw his body over the younger boy as the bough came crashing down. Both Soren and Callum cried out as it hit them before rolling off and coming to rest on the ground.

Sarai was by their side a moment later, grabbing the boys and checking them for injuries. “Are either of you hurt?!”

Callum shrugged, clearly in shock, as frightened tears gathered in his eyes. Sarai frowned and brought him into an embrace, gently rubbing his back and peppering kisses in his hair. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Soren take a step back, a dark expression falling over his face as he looked at the mother and son holding each other.

Sarai didn’t give it a second thought. She reached out and offered an arm to Soren – a silent invitation. But the boy shook his head and took another step back, expression twisted into something far too complex for a child his age.

“I’m fine, I promise.” Soren’s voice was barely a whisper. “Tell Callum…tell Callum I’m sorry I screwed up and got him hurt attacking you…”

Before Sarai could stop him, Soren turned on his heels and began to run.

She wanted nothing more than to go after Soren at that moment. She wanted to convince Soren that he wasn’t to blame for what had been an accident. She wanted to cradle him like she was doing for Callum. She wanted him to know that he was understood – and loved.

But she blinked, and Soren was gone.

——————————————

Read this chapter on AO3 here!

[sstardustt3]

GUESS WHO MADE THE VEN DIAGRAM

if you can't really read what I put down here's the list (I'll probably think of more as I write the ones I already have down) and then I'll expand on them

Similarties:

Both live in New York

both have horrible parental figures who were most likely neglectful

homophobic

misogynistic

constant need to be in control

can NOT take criticism

teenagers

not very well-liked by the people around them

entitled

Marvin:

very gay

has a girlfriend??? somehow???

girlfriend is his only friend

jewish

actually developed as a person

Bill Dickey:

a little gay

bitchless

tall

has an actual friend group

Okay before yall get mad, let me explain.

Starting off, Bill isn't canonically gay from what I can tell anyway. But in my opinion any man who hates women as much as bill and andrew tate does has to be a little gay. It's not canon though I know that. However, Evan Dorkin did say on Twitter when asked what he thinks about Bill x Jerry that it could have happened if the Eltingville club continued. So take that as you will.

Marvin (at least in 'In Trousers') and Bill both view women more as like archetypes and as a monolift less than actual people. This is evident for Bill if you've read eltingville club then I feel this should be pretty obvious. First chapter he has dream where he's basically just captain kirk and he's surrounded by women, in the pilot he tries to rescue Princess Tiffany because she's "busty". Bill's thing is that he think's of women as something to concur and posses.

In Trousers takes place nearly entirely in the view of Marvin and his account of everything and everyone and gets misconstrued by him

(When he begins to shriek like a virgin/ and his eyes turn an ordinary fizz/ nothing's exactly as I say it is)

So all throughout In Trousers it's just him and how he views the world and women. The most prominent example of how he thinks of them is in high school ladies at 5 'o'clock. Which, this is largely my opinion and my personal analysis which I might fully post in the future. But, in high school ladies at 5 o'clock the ladies kind of show up as these just persistent, frivolous forces that are just obsessed with him in the same sort of way Bill views women.

Rounding back to what I said earlier about bill and his need to concur with women and possess them, he also just has a thing for being in control in general. He reminds me of those people who get into an argument on the road and then will start driving fast and swerving as a way to basically say shut the fuck up and try to scare you. Like he has to always be the one to start and end EVERYTHING. Most of the time in the comic's when the eltingville club temporarily split's and (spoiler alert) eventually split for good it is usually if not always his fault or under his request. Which is part of the reason he's such an unlikeable dickhead.

Marvin has a similar issue where he needs to have control and he needs to have everything his way. That is like the entire plot of March of the Falsettos, Marvin can't accept the fact he's lost the life he had and safety that it came with and forces himself to be a present figure weather wanted or not. Also, most of the relationships broken in Falsettos are his fault. He can't handle Whizzer not being completely committed and invested in him and his every little need that he blows up at him and leaves him. He ruins his relationship with Jason, mendel, and any resemblance of peace he had with trina because he couldn't believe she was moving on from him.

I already spoke about Bill's horrible parental figures ( that's what my original post that inspired this one was about) Marvin is alluded to having a neglectful parents. In Marvin's Giddy Seizures the ladies question if Marvin's outbursts are due to the lack of attention his mother gave him growing up

lately i've been thinking marvin needs attention/ of a private sort/ maybe this whole seizure thing Is something he invented/ or is it medicinal?/should his mother be blamed?

and in 'I swear I won't ever again' marvin speaks about Jason and talks about how a father's purpose is to make good money and nothing more.

mommy says you're funny/show me how you're funny/ daddy makes good money/ that's what daddy's for

This leads me to believe that he's following his father's example and what his father did. As we know Marvin wasn't exactly poor as he had maids growing up and most parents do look to how they were raised as guides on how to raise their own kids.

Anyways, long story short these bitches are two peas in a pod, only one actually grew up and the other remained a stagnant little piss baby cough cough..bill...

I think Bill turned out the way he did because both his parents didn't really pay attention to him ever and would just absentmindedly praise him hoping he'll just stop bothering them. Also for the sake of getting him to leave them alone they didn't tell him no. Like ever. And if they did I don't think they really disciplined him properly. Atleast not his mom. Which is why he's so comfortable stealing money from her. Going onto his dad I think bill was definitely subjected to rants of his dad saying just the worst shit about his mom throughout his entire childhood. In a very moral Orel camping episode-type way (ifykyk) and I think he probably internalized it or something. Now that I finish writing this I'm starting to see a resemblance in my favorite character and I might just have to whip out a ven diagram atp.

[hayscodings]

sometimes i think about the women of shameless and everything that they’ve endured, how they respectively chose to cope, etc. and i’m like what is it about v that makes her feel unlike the rest…and then i remember that she actually had a good relationship with her father

[ociels]

his brother died and one of his first thoughts were that it should’ve been him instead because now people are going to be disappointed…

[maximusboltaqon]

weird thing about the inhumans is that theyre obscure enough to not really have an audience and also havent really appeared *that* much throughout their entire 60 year existence. however they also well known enough that the mcu took a crack at it and permanently affected their comics and their old roles and sectors are gone to make room for the New MCU Versions. truly such a thing is practically unheard of.

[two-person-job]

heyheyhey. do you guys wanna know a secret :}

[gibbearish]

am finally back home and can say without a doubt that i am just fundamentally not built for long distance travel however the train was much nicer than planes

[sadbeautifutragic]

.

[thirtyskeletons]

damn. ofmd season 2 kind of completely sucked compared to season 1

[coweye]

The Honda Odyssey

Logan Howlett x Reader | smut | 6k words Summary: The car fight reimagined and it only needed to be like 10% more erotic than the original.

I got carried away. I just love Wolvie so much. I'm so happy Logan is getting the adoration he deserves. Long live the Wolverine renaissance.

Warning: smut, p in v, ass play, foul language.

If you had to pinpoint a moment when your life became the shit show it had steadily developed into, you’d say it was the moment you auditioned for X-Force.

In your tenure as besties with Wade Wilson, it's fair to say things hadn’t gone smoothly. The man was a conduit to all things fucked up, but you adored his loose morals and quick mouth. The idiot in red had weaselled his way into your heart and became something of a brother to you and more recently a roommate.

Now, if you’d have told your younger self you’d be in your late twenty’s sharing an apartment with a burn victim who regularly staples a toupee to his fucking head and a coke-head, blind, old African American woman, you’d have laughed in their fucking face.

So, you’d like to think that as these things go you are pretty damn well adjusted but traversing the multiverse was a bit of a stretch, even for you.

One moment you’re at Wade’s surprise party, the next your ass has been zapped to the TVA and you’ve been given a sacred mission; to accompany Marvel Jesus (Wade) and protect the sacred timeline.

Naturally you’re fucking mind blown, you’re a low-level mutant, fuck, you couldn’t even join the X-Men.  Your particular set of skills were a dime a dozen and your flagrant disregard of rules had made you a ‘poor candidate’.

No, the mutant powers you had been graced with weren’t extraordinary by any means. You were basically an off-brand Captain America, just without the gorgeous cheekbones, patriotism and righteous need to do good.

In layman terms, you are strong as shit and have an accelerated healing factor. Not quite the same level as Wade’s mind you. You have, give or take, an inconvenient five-minute turnaround on the more fatally debilitating wounds.

To say you were unqualified was an understatement and to say you were reluctant was a simple fact. A fact you repeated, loudly to anyone that would listen as you were bathed in rich black leather.

“I think maybe you meant to grab negasonic teenage whatchacallit… she’s great, super powerful!” You continue. “Did you mean to get Domino or Colossus or maybe one of the X-Men? “

“No Miss Y/L/N. We have not got the wrong person for the job.” The man you later find out is called Paradox, calls out as you re-enter the operation headquarters. “Mr Wilson requested your presence; he wanted your assistance on his mission.”

“Y/N/N… ten out of ten, baby girl, I one hundred percent would bang. I’m talking raw dog, Barry White on a rug, let’s go all fuckin’ night.”  Wade hollers in his own brand-new suit and even you must admit, you look fucking amazing. “Sweet angel, we’ve just gotta’ come up with a superhero name for you!”

You are enrobed in rich thick black and teal leather, your first ever hero suit and it’s a fucking good one. It doesn’t cling, but instead pulls you in securing your flesh and extenuating curves, ones you hadn’t entirely realised you had. The bottom half your face is concealed with a mask, carefully crafted to follow the contours of your nose and cheekbones.

You’d barely recognised the mysterious figure in the mirror.

“Right?! Tailor was pretty handsy though!”

“Oh yeah, ha! - that man is indeed a predator.” Wade says with a chuckle and a fond sigh.

It shames to you to say but that’s when you stopped fighting this whole thing. You looked the part of a hero; you thought that maybe the TVA knew what they were doing. That they had seen something in you and knew that you had a good heart under all the darkness that lingered on the surface.

Wrong.

You were just a demand Wade had made. He wanted his number one disciple at his side whilst he carried out his sacred mission. You were part of an attempt at appeasing him whilst they destroyed your timeline.

Little more than a pawn to be used whilst they manipulated him into a false sense of security.

Thus, you were thrown into a series of events far beyond your control when Wade being Wade decided you were hunting down a Wolverine to stabilise the timeline, only to be once again fucking zapped into some place they called the void by that little English shitbird named Paradox. It’s entirely accurate to say that you were a little less sturdy than your compadres.

Unfortunately for you, the fall from such a height into the void was fatal. When you finally awake in the desolate wasteland to the sounds of blades clashing it is disorientating to say the least.

Forcing yourself to your feet you lower your mask and gasp in the sweet strangely stale oxygen as you stretch out your newly healed spine with a groan. It was impossible to tell how long you were out as you take in the scene before you; Wade and the Wolverine are engaged in a heated battle. From the looks of it, Logan is winning this fight despite being the human equivalent of a knife block with Wade’s katanas protruding from his chest.

For a moment you pause, perhaps its head trauma that hasn’t healed (He’s fucking Deadpool, he can look after himself for two minutes) and appreciate his form, the Wolverine the two of you had kidnapped was gorgeous. Tch, as if there was any other kind.

Sure, you were biased you’d always been somewhat of a fangirl, but the Wolverine was objectively breath-taking.

You’d indulged in comics whilst growing up but when you found out he was real and looked the way he did, hell, Wolverine was your sexual awakening. He was the first man to make you feel that tingle in your lower stomach. Yes, you may have been thirteen years old, a ball of puppy fat and social anxiety but you’d been waiting for him ever since. 

You’re snapped out of your reverie when Wade loses baby knife in Logan’s shoulder blade, finally you spring into action. In good time as well as you’re not sure if even Deadpool can survive decapitation.

In the singularly most stupid act of your life you throw yourself in front of your friend’s body. “Wait, Wait! Please!”  

Wade has paused behind you, you can feel him weighing up the situation, pausing for a moment to see what you’re going to pull out of the bag.

“The TVA they can fix it, whatever you did, whatever made you the worst Logan, they can fix it! – They have the power to end universes, but they also have the power to fix yours! Help us get back there and we can fix both of our worlds! I promise, they can fix it.” You plead, it’s not quite a lie exactly, more of an Educated Wish than anything.

Okay it is a lie, but you’re sure that the TVA can most likely, probably, maybe fix his world.

Logan’s eyes lock with yours in that moment you can see that he wants to kill you both and be done with it, but that hope won’t let him. You feel a smidgen of guilt for the deceit, but frankly you’ve done worse for less. Your world was on the line it wasn’t the time to pull your punches.

Fast forward four exhausting hours, two periods of unconsciousness and one flaying to find yourself sat opposite Wade gagging down cold spoonful’s of Spam in some dusty ass diner.

You were no better than a man as you watched the Wolverine.

Those arms, those thighs, the way he had beheaded Sabretooth without even breaking a fucking sweat. You wanted him to wrap those instruments of death he called hands around your throat and fuck you dirty until the sun came up.

It had been a long exhausting day and you had been soaking wet for most of it.

Shit, could he smell that? Does that count as sexual harassment? You’d have to ask Wade.

Logan, however, was utterly dismissive of your advances in the face of what was undoubtedly utterly horrific past trauma. Something you were trying to be understanding about, but self-pity in a man, it just turned you on. I said you had some surface layers of darkness.

Unable to help yourself you gaze at him as he opens a bottle of rubbing alcohol. You are utterly entranced, watching the thick chords in his throat bob as he takes a swig.

That tanned skin where his jaw ends and neck begins, slick with sweat and dirt. You’d love to sink your canines into the strip below his ear. He must feel your stare on him as he looks up and catches your eyes dark with lust already surveying his person.

It should embarrass you, that every time he peers your way, he catches you gaping at him like a lovesick puppy, but there’s something about Logan you can’t quite put your finger on. The man heats your blood like nothing you’ve ever experienced before, maybe it’s that torch you’ve carried for him since girlhood, maybe it’s the thick thighs you’d kill to ride – who can say for sure?

In what you assume is against his better judgement, he comes to perch on the booth beside you. His broad shoulders cast an imposing figure as he gets close enough that if you were to move your hand a couple of inches to the right, you’d finally be able to touch that yellow fabric that plagued your tween dreams.

You’re burning up at the thought of him, unable to stop yourself you part your legs slightly to ease some of the pressure. Logans nose twitches, his head swivels your way and his eyes catch your own.  

Welp - at least you have your answer about him smelling your arousal.

Deciding that you were most likely verging on sexual harassment charges you decided to focus back in on the task at hand, gagging once again at another spoonful of spam.

“Be a good girl and swallow, Y/N/N, you know the rules!” Wade jokes, your chortle was your only response. What could you say? He always hit your funny bone despite the ocean that was raging in your panties.

Logan stares at Wade for a long moment before turning to your way and addressing you for maybe only the fourth time today?

“What are you doing with this fucking clown? You his sidekick? Following him round to laugh at his stupid fucking jokes whilst he gets kids killed?”

“Why I have never.” Wade is faux outraged at his words, clutching his imaginary pearls as the Wolverine throws around accusations that aren’t entirely untrue.

The Wolverine’s expression remains stern as his eyes track your face. They seem to be evaluating your character and from the flare in his nose and crease in his brow you can guess he finds you lacking. You’re embarrassed to admit how much that deflates you, so you do what you do best; you deflect.

 “I could follow you around and laugh at your jokes instead, if you like?” When you speak your voice has a sultry edge to it and there’s no mistaking your intentions.

Logan seems to think on your proposition for a second or two, before he huffs grabs his rubbing alcohol and unopened can of Spam and heads over to sit at the bar.

“Holy hot ham and cheese on rye, Y/N, you fucking slut.” Wade berates you though his voice is as light as it’s always been as he boots your shin under the table. “Trying to your holes filled by Wolvie during a world saving mission, Marvel H Christ, stay on fucking task!”

You swear you hear Logan mutter a Jesus Christ from the bar.

Though as Wade continues irritating the hero hunched against bar, you can’t help the realisation that he didn’t say no.

“You’re uh… well regarded in our world.” Wade complements, being real doesn’t come easy to him. You appreciate the effort.

“Well, I’m not shit in mine.”

“I tried to join the X-Men because of you.” You speak up finally joining their conversation. Wolverine’s back goes rigid, but he doesn’t respond. You’re not sure if he’s waiting for you to continue or hoping you’ll stop. “You made a difference to this world, made me think I could do the same. I just never quite make the cut.”

Logan doesn’t seem to have a response.

It seems your words have an effect as you catch him watching you more often. When Wade makes his jokes, he looks to you for validation of his withering looks.

You’re probably more distracted by this revelation than you should be when the three of you come across a real nasty variant of Colossus seeking out Wade for… you want to say… revenge?

The not-so-gentle-anymore-giant flips the Honda and tosses both Wade and Logan through the treeline as they advance on him as if they were little more than toys his mother had asked him to pick up.

One by one your bullets ricochet from his metal skin as he comes towards you. You aren’t built for this fight; you are completely and utterly outmatched.

All you’re doing at this point is buying yourself some time for your backup to pull themselves from the rubble, however during a particularly spirited cartwheel the metal oaf finally gets his hands on you. Colossus’ metal palm is cold on your throat, and you could swear you hear your neck snapping before you feel it.  

With a gasp you return to life to find a slightly dishevelled Logan standing above you. By the grace of god, his sleeves have been worn away in the fight, his arms, oh sweet lord, his arms are on full display.

“Thought you were a goner.” He offers you a hand when you simply stare mutely his way. Locking your fingers around his wrist he pulls you to your feet. You don’t release your hold on him and neither does he.

“Don’t throw the party just yet, eh?” You joke weakly, for a second you could swear there’s a slight raise of the corner of his mouth, imperceptible, if you didn’t know what you were looking for. In the past few hours you had become an expert on Wolverine’s face.  

Your mouth is dry as you take in his thick sweat laden biceps.

“Where’s Wade?” You query whilst rolling your aching neck as you haven’t heard his voice in a record thirty seconds, Logan suddenly remembers himself and drops your hand.

“’fraid Metal man took your clown, was pissed with him and can’t say I blame the guy.”

“Shit.” You sigh rubbing your temples as you kneel to pick up the dismembered arm of your best friend. “Well – fuck. That’ll take him a few hours at least to grow back – He’ll be so sad about his suit.”

You peel the fabric from the limb and tuck it under the breast plate of your own suit. Wade will want his glove back when it grows back.

“He say where he was taking him?”

“Oh yeah, that along with his plan for world domination...” Logan huffs as if your mere presence annoys him.

“Thought you didn’t like sarcasm.”

“I like sarcasm just fine, Bub. It’s you I don’t like.” You can’t help but smile his way at the comment made at your expense, his brows crease. “You’re a strange one.”

“Can you do your sniffy thing?”  Its impressive, you thought he’d reached the limit with his scathing looks towards Wade, yet he somehow manages to pull a deeper frown out the vault especially for you.

“Sniffy thing?” His words are spoken with such derision, it turns you on a little. You realise that perhaps you are in fact a deeply troubled individual.

“Oh, sorry.” You pretend to clear a frog in your throat. “Please, oh, please, beautiful, handsome Wolverine, please can you locate my bestest pal with your heightened sense of smell?” His face doesn’t break despite your hands clasped in front of your chin.

“You’re just as fucking annoying as that moron.” He huffs “Get in the fucking car, we’ll follow his trail.”

“You can smell him from the car?”

“The blood, Jesus Fucking Christ, there’s a trail of blood.”

“Ah.” Is all you reply as you find your seat in the passenger side and start your own one on one team up with Wolverine. Its not exactly the way you imagined it, but beggars certainly can’t be choosers.

After a few moments of sullen silence, you decide that there’s no time like the present to form a long-lasting bond.

“What’s your world like?”

“None of your fucking business.”

“Okay... What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they can save your world? I bet its something boring as fuck, like team-“

“What did you just say?”

“I bet you’re gonna do something boring like-“

“No before that.”

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna’ do if they save your world?” You question, his sudden interest in your words takes you by surprise as he has been vacant from your conversation.

The breaks suddenly shriek as the car comes to a stop.

“What do you mean if?”

“I…”

“You said they could fix my world. Undo it all, is what you fucking said.”

“I mean I think they can!”

“You fucking liar.” The edge to The Wolverine’s voice is terrifying. The realisation trickles down your spine, Logan has been nice to you all this time, you’re finally meeting The Wolverine.

“I didn’t lie!” For some reason you’re ashamed of your deceit, you’ve murdered countless people and still, you’ve felt less remorse. Logan’s eyes pin you in your seat as disgust clouds his face. It hurts more than you can fathom. “Not exactly, I think they can fix your world! – I needed your help and if you killed Wade there was no hope for my universe!”

“I don’t give a flying fuck about your universe!” He spits your way; his hands are gripping the wheel in what seems like an effort to keep his cool.

“I know, but I do!” You cry back at him. “You know how to save the world, you’re the fucking Wolverine! I know how to kill people, but this hero shit, this isn’t me!”

“Ha! No shit.” There is pure hate in the man’s eyes as he stares back at you.

“Please, you’re Logan. Whether you’re the worst one or not - You’re still better than me.”

“Get out of the fucking car.” The words come from between clenched teeth and are filled with warning.

“No – fuck you.”  Your rage breaks the banks to meet Logan’s. Perhaps it’s the guilt, maybe it’s the fear for Wade but something within you snaps at his constant bad temper. “It was an educated guess and a fucking reasonable one at that, get the fuck over yourself you big bird wannabe geriatric fucker! “

He slams his palms on the steering wheel, his nose flares and his teeth clamp together.  “Fuck me? Fuck you – you sad pathetic excuse for a side-kick. No wonder the X-Men wouldn’t take you, and they’ll take fuckin’ anyone. You are a ridiculous, immature, moron who spends her days following around a fucking clown to avoid facing the reality that you are no one. I have never met a sadder, more attention starved asshole in my entire life. You were right about one thing, you’re no fucking hero.”

Its shameful the way your stomach drops, and your eyes involuntarily begin to tear. To hear your hero say the words you’ve thought about yourself whilst laying awake at night. It’s a knife to the gut.

“Nothing to fucking say, huh, Angel?” The use of Wade’s nickname for you is like sandpaper on your skin, it rubs you the wrong fucking way.

“I am going to hurt you now.” Your voice is barely a broken whisper.

“You’re going to hurt – “His faux chortle is cut short by a swift punch to his face. You’re worried you may have been overzealous with your swing when his nose begins bleeding. The Wolverine is stunned for only a moment before he grabs the back of your neck and proceeds with smashing your face into the dashboard and those concerns are quickly put to bed.

The old fucker is strong, but you don’t think he’ll kill you, yet another educated wish.

“Not so tough now…” He shouts as the radio channels change with your skull. Pulling a knife from your leg strap you embed it in his thigh and pull the lever to recline your seat whilst he’s distracted, luckily, you’re not there when he swings for retribution.

Though one of his fucking steak knives catches your upper arm slicing through the leather. Warm blood trickles down your arm, staining the beige interior of the poor Honda. 

Your legs are your strongest asset, so when he attempts to restrain you with the seatbelt, you are presented with your window of opportunity. You wrap them around his neck as you pivot your hips slamming the Wolverine headfirst into the metal of the door. Once, twice, three times - on the fourth he lands a fist to your gut, luckily, he has retracted his claws.

If he was willing to kill you, you wouldn’t stand a chance.

You’re winded struggling to catch your breath from the gut punch, but you manage pull the knife from his thigh that is nestled between your legs and thrust it into his neck, you aim for the spot you’d fantasied about kissing before he’d torn your character apart piece by piece, now you just want to bathe in his fucking blood.

It was the pain that instantaneously made his claws extend. He’s quick to move them, though he slices through the sides of your suit as he buries them in the chair behind you. Your ribs are a bloodied mess though you don’t care, in a few hours they’ll be good as new.

Logan has seized the opportunity and has your arms pinned to your sides, his blood has cooled a little more than yours, he doesn’t seem to want to murder you over an argument.

Perhaps he’s more well-adjusted than yourself, that thought alone should concern you, except it just enrages you further.

“You stupid fuckin-“The Wolverine starts admonishing you, before you swing your head forward and headbutt him.

Yes.

You really do that.

You headbutt the man with the adamantium fucking skeleton– at full strength. Its sheer dumb luck you don’t crack your own skull in the process– maybe Logan was right, you are fucking dumb.

“Fucking fuck!” You cry grabbing your forehead and writhing. Noone wins with a headbutt, except Logan apparently.

“Fucking stop that.” Your writhing has pushed your core against his crotch, and he is already packing quite the heat at what feels like half-mast. He grabs your hips to stop your movement, but it only seems to push you closer. “Stop fucking moving.”

The constant arousal you’ve felt since meeting him returns in double time, Logan’s nostrils flare and his eyes darken. It’s debased and you’re ashamed that you want him, you haven’t stopped wanting him, despite the awful fucking words that left his mouth minutes ago.

“Like … a little pain Wolvie?”

Its relief you feel, you think, when instead of answering or punching you in the face, he closes the gap.

The Wolverine’s claws retract, and he grabs at your chin. Logan’s mouth utterly devours your own, your front tooth clashes with his own as you push yourself upwards, you pull your knife out of his neck, catching his grunt of pain on your tongue as you begin licking your way down his thick throat.

The vein you’d spotted hours ago is throbbing freshly healed, you sink your canines into the flesh and its as good as you’d fucking imagine. His groan is utterly beast-like as he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

The Wolverine’s throat tastes like salt and iron. Thick, tangy and warm on your tongue as you soothe the bite. It drives Logan wild, thrusting his hardened member against your warmth. One of his gloved hands rises to lock on the back of your neck to pull you into yet another earth-shattering kiss.  His sharp hot tongue slides against your own, exploring the expanses of your mouth like its his to claim.

You bite at him again then, your teeth catching his bottom lip sharply.  Logan groans into your mouth before you use every ounce of your enhanced strength to throw him backwards against the dashboard.

He is taken utterly by surprise as his head slams into the windscreen cracking the glass with a grunt. When he looks your way Logan’s eyes are blackened with desire, he is utterly wild.

Slowly as if afraid to make any sudden moves, you unzip your combat boots, your eyes never leaving his. One boot and then the next.

You thank the TVA’s tailor for making your suit a two piece as you shuffle backwards into the backseat, pushing the thick leather down your legs all whilst maintaining eye contact with the beast leaning against the dashboard.

“You sure you want this Darlin’?”

“Darlin’?” You question mockingly, your voice lowering to imitate his own, as you wantonly spread your legs, your bare leg resting next to the headrest. Only a pair of black cotton panties separate him from your most intimate parts and his eyes are locked on your clothed core. “a second ago it was ‘Pathetic Moron’ to you.”

Your head tilts in question as his eyes lock back on your own, you think perhaps for a moment something akin to regret passes over his face, but you’ve never been entirely comfortable with feelings, so you drop your hand into the waistband of your panties, you’ve barely circled your opening with your pointer finger before he’s on you.

“That’s my job, you fucking Moron.” He plunges two bare thick fingers into your heat. Gasping you throw your head back against the headrest, it’s a tight fit and its been a while but the slight burn eases some of the aching in your core.  “You’re fuckin’ soaking wet, you like it huh, bub? Making me bleed?”

Your grab his jaw, your nails digging into his flesh. “I’d like to bathe in-” He scissors his fingers finding that spot inside you and you let out an embarrassing noise, somewhere between a gasp and a moan. “-Your fucking blood… you mean motherfucker.”

You’re an absolute goner when he starts rubbing your clit, after a day of foreplay your body seizes, and you grab at the nape of his neck trying to find something to anchor you down. But as fast as the build was you come tumbling down just as quickly, when he cruelly withdraws his hands.

“No! - Wha- what the fuck?!” You’re almost crying as your torn from the precipice.

Logan flips you over onto your stomach before you can complain any further, your face down on the filthy upholstery as he pulls your panties from your hips. You can’t see him from this angle, though you can feel his warm hands tracing the globes of your ass.

You force your knees further apart, pushing your bare soaking pussy against the tight bulge of his yellow suit. If you had enough of your facilities about you, you’d be embarrassed that you’re currently rubbing your cunt against The Wolverine like a bitch in heat after he’d chewed you out only minutes ago.

Logan’s hand dip between your thighs, his fingers swirl along your hole, dragging your wetness along to your aching clit.

“You think I’d make it that easy?” He asks as he continues the journey back and forth. On the second pass he dips his finger inside of you for a fraction of a second before resuming its path. “What do you want, darlin’?”

You weren’t going to beg, in fact you bit your tongue to stop the traitorous words from forming, this man had already made you abandon most of your self-respect, he wasn’t having this.

“Logan…” At your breathy words the man leans forward, pressing his fabric covered cock into your ass as he folds his body over yours. One hand comes down next to your shoulder, the other explore your tits as he rocks himself into your throbbing core. It’s the perfect storm as he nuzzles into your exposed throat but somehow you manage your words. “Fuck me or don’t, I’m not begging, bub.”

He exhales through his nose in what you guess is equal parts amusement and annoyance, but you’re far beyond caring. He places a bite on the spot where your throat meets your shoulder as his body pulls back. Momentarily his hands leave your hips to deal with his own pants. You hear the clank of his belt hitting the car floor moments before you feel the head of his cock, running along your folds.

The head of his cock is thick, and it feels hot to the touch as he runs it along your slick. All of a sudden Logan pushes forward and sheathes himself inside of you with a single thrust.

You try your best to hold in your incoherent moans but to little avail as he pulls back before slamming full force back into you. If you were a human woman, your pelvis would’ve shattered from the force of his hips against your ass, instead you gather your strength and push back, allowing him deeper. The both of you moan in unison at the depth he reaches.

You grab onto the foam of the seat, ripping through the fabric with your bare hands desperate for an anchor as Logan unforgivingly pounds into you from behind, once again he folds his body over yours, wrapping a palm around your clawed fingers.

“.” He grunts something incoherent into your ear as he picks up the pace, slamming into you repeatedly, slowly picking up his pace. Your core is positively aching as you throb around him, pulling him deeper within you.  If you were expecting any further explanation, you’re sorely disappointed.

The wolverine pulls back, gripping at your hips keeping you still as he resumes his powerful strokes.  Logan’s hand dips to your clit, rubbing quick circles sending you barrelling back towards your orgasm. As you begin to clench around him, he pulls your body upwards, his head brushing against the top of the car as he holds you against him his fingers never leaving your clit.

“Come on my cock, Angel.” Unable to stop yourself you clench around him, hearing him talk like that does something primal to you.

You fucking loved Logan’s mouth, you bet he ate pussy like a champion if he played the clit this fucking well.

You stopped fighting it and threw yourself from the cliff, shattering in his thick muscle veined arms as he held you up against him, his cock still viciously plundering your depths.

“You’re so fucking tight.” He whispers against your neck whispers peppering it with bites.

Logan gives you a few moments to come down from your high before he resumes his punishing pace, you think perhaps you’ve reached your limit of pleasure, that the threshold can’t possibly be topped until he whispers into your ear in that gruff voice.

“What was it Wilson said? Filling all your holes?” The Wolverine asks, his eyes meet yours over your shoulder meaningfully, asking permission as he offers you his thumb. You merely moan your approval and wantonly draw his finger into your mouth, soaking the pad in saliva.  

Logan yanks your head into a vicious kiss. It’s a messy one, filled to the brim with need. The hand not currently locked on your neck holding your face to his, travels down your back, through the valley of your bodies. The pad of his pinky runs appreciatively over the globe of your ass, before his hand dips into the crease.

Logan’s thumb runs teasingly against the tight ring of muscle, it’s a foreign experience which makes you startle slightly.

“Anyone ever fucked you here?” He asks as he bites down your neck, delicately pushing you forward until your head rests on the backseat. You shake your head as your eyes close, his cock is buried balls deep within you as he plays with your asshole.

When his thumb finally breaches your tight hole just past the nail, he begins his thrusts once more. His cock fills your pussy from behind and suddenly you feel so fucking full, Its far too much for you.

“Fuck… Logan.” You gasp almost on the verge of tears as pounds you into the back seat. It seems the ass play has gotten to him more than expected, as his pace has increases.

“Where?” He asks breathless from the exertion as he pulls his thumbs from your ass and takes a handful of the meat on your hips.

“Inside…. Please … Logan.” You practically beg though you’ll never admit it, his rhythm becomes stunted as his hips slam into the back of your thighs.

“Give me something tight to come in, Darlin’.” Moaning at his words you’re eager to obey as you reach your hand between your own legs and rub mercilessly at your clit. The unforgiving pounding, the grunting and the fingers currently bruising your hips and the burning of your now vacant ass send you sailing over the edge.

You clamp down on him like a vice, groaning unable to hold back your whimpers anymore as he finally bites your neck and pumps his seed deep inside you as far as it can go. Logan grunts like a beast as he pulses deep inside of you.

Logan collapses beside you. Dents in the interior of the van you don’t even remember making have appeared from where a stray elbow or knee has hit the metal in the throes of passion.

The Wolverine tucks his cock back in his suit. Ever the gentleman, he uses your black panties to wipe away the cum dripping from your thighs, you haven’t got the heart to tell him that when you’re commando redressed in your suit that you can still feel him dripping from you, your pussy uncomfortably slick against the leather.

After dressing, the two of you sit in contemplative silence. Neither one of you has the emotional complexity to discuss what happened and neither one of you will accept fault for your argument that led to it, so, silence reigns.

The tension is sliced in two as Logan leans forward and pushes an errant lock of hair behind your ear in an act so goddamn endearing, you melt. You still wouldn’t apologise for lying, because you didn’t lie but you can meet him a quarter of the way.

“I’m sorry for calling you geriatric.” You whisper catching his eyes, a small spark of humour leaps into them, you’ve seen more emotions from your hero in the past half an hour than you knew he was capable of.

“I shouldn’t have-“ Logan’s heartfelt apology is cut off by the lead of this goddamn story.

“Well, well, well.  Would you look at this, My best friends, Ha! I get fucking kidnapped, an arm ripped off and you’re nowhere to be found? I thought don’t worry Wade, they won’t leave you, Y/N/N will come around that corner any second."

Wade has appeared through the passenger side window; he looks a little worse for wear and has a child’s arm growing from his stump, its kind of gross to look at.

"What if Colossus had had his way with me? What then Y/N? I expect this from Wolvie, but not from you! No, no heroic rescue for old Deadpool. I have to save myself because you fuckers are too busy playing hide the adamantium bone!  Thanks for nothing guys. Now the car has old man sex stank to it, as if this hunk of shit Honda could get any worse!”

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

I should rewatch the first season of made for love probably