#its really hard to pin down One Favorite Season

[deedala]

SHAMELESS CREATORS NETWORK AUGUST THEME: FAVORITE SEASON

season outrageous, hilarious, devastating, heartening, emotional, chaotic three

[cl0udy3]

𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

ellie williams x f1 obsessed!reader fluff ; bonus smut at the end wc: 5206 a/n: yall already know i needed to write for new favorite wife i love her

When you were younger, before you were trusted to carry a gun on patrol, Tommy would let you tag along with him. It was mostly for fun—an excuse to get you out of Jackson for a while, to stretch your legs, to let you see a little more of the world without throwing you straight into danger.

He never really expected you to be much help. You were too small to fight off and expected, too inexperienced to make real calls. So, instead of treating it like work, Tommy let you wander.

“Go on,” he’d say with a lazy wave of his hand whenever you entered an abandoned town. “Ain’t nothin’ much for you to do ‘sides keeping me company.”

That’s how it all started.

You weren’t looking for anything in particular that day- just nosing around an old strip mall, poking at whatever had been left behind. The storefronts were mostly empty, their shelves looted long ago, but one tiny shop had remained surprisingly untouched. A bookstore.

You stepped inside, the scent of old paper and dust thick in the air. Most of the good stuff had probably been taken already, but as you traced your fingers along the forgotten spines, something caught your eye.

A magazine.

At first, it didn’t seem all that special. Just a glossy cover with a bright red car on the front, sleek and low to the ground. The only thing you really noticed was the emblem—a small black horse rearing up on its hind legs against a yellow shield.

Scuderia Ferrari: F1 2013

You hadn’t cared much about cars back then. Hell, you had barely even thought about them. They were just hunks of metal rotting on the side of the road, things people used to drive before the world went to shit. But there was something about this magazine that made you pause. 

Maybe it was the color. That striking, unmistakable Ferrari red. 

Or maybe it was just curiosity.

Either way, you slipped it into your backpack, figuring it’d give you something to read when you got bored.

That night, back in Jackson, you finally cracked open the magazine. 

It started off simple. You skimmed through the pages, mostly looking at the pictures. The cars were gorgeous—not like the rusted-out trucks you were used to seeing on patrol, but smooth, refined machines built for speed. They look fast. Even standing still, they had an energy to them, like they were barely contained, ready to burst forward at any second.

And then, somewhere along the way, the words started to hook you.

You read about aerodynamics, about how every inch of the car was designed to cut through the air like a knife. About the front and rear wings, how they created downforce to keep the car pinned to the track at ridiculous speeds. About the tires—soft, medium, hard compounds—how they degraded over time, forcing teams to make strategic pit stops.

You learned about the drivers—Fernando Alonso and Felipe Massa, the two men piloting the Ferrari that season. About how Alonso was a two-time world champion, a relentless competitor always looking for an edge. About Massa, the loyal number two, still carrying scars of his 209 crash in Hungary.

You learned about the rivalries—Ferrari versus Red Bull, Alonso versus Vettel. You read about the DRS zones, the ERS systems, the KERS boost that gaze drivers an extra surge of power down the straights.

And suddenly, you weren’t just reading.

You were obsessing.

Something in you clicked.

You flipped through the pages again, this time paying attention to every little detail. You read into the margins, absorbing everything—engine specifications, weight distribution, tire degradation rates. You memorized track layouts, imagined what it must have felt like to take a corner at 200 miles per hour, the g-forces pressing down on your body.

It was like unlocking a part of yourself you never even knew existed. 

And from that moment on, you weren’t just interested. You were hooked.

---

When Ellie first arrived in Jackson, she wasn’t expecting much.

Sure, Joel had told her it was safe, that she’d have food, a bed, a place to belong—but she wasn’t convinced. The world had taught her not to trust in good things.

Then she met you.

And suddenly, she had a lot to process.

The first time she saw you, you were sitting on a fence, kicking your feet idly against the wood, nose buried deep in a magazine. You weren’t on patrol, weren’t doing chores—just sitting there, completely lost in whatever you were reading.

Tommy was the one who introduced you.

“This here’s Ellie,” he said, nodding toward the girl beside him. “Figured you two oughta meet.”

You looked up, eyes flicking over Ellie for maybe half a second before immediately returning to your magazine.

“Hey,” you said absently.

Ellie blinked. Okay, cool. Guess I don’t exist.

Tommy gave you a look. “Could at least pretend to be friendly, kid.”

That made you glance up again, finally really looking at Ellie. And for the first time, she saw it.

The spark of excitement. The kind of energy that meant you were about to go off about something.

Ellie had no idea what she was in for.

“Oh, you’re new here, huh?” you asked, suddenly snapping your magazine shut. “Do you know anything about Formula 1?”

Ellie hesitated. “....Like. The number?”

You groaned, dragging a hand down your face. “No, no, no—Formula 1. The sport. The fastest racing series in the world. The absolute pinnacle of motorsport. The only thing keeping me sane in this hellscape.”

Ellie blinked. “Oh. Uh. No.”

Big mistake.

Huge.

Before she could even register what was happening, you launched into a full-on rant, your entire body coming alive with energy.

“Okay, okay, so listen—back before everything went to shit, people used to race cars. Not like, dumb little street races, but actual, high-tech, scientifically engineered machines designed to go insanely fast. I’m talking like—200 miles per hour, insane.”

Ellie barely had time to nod before you continued.

“They had these things called DRS zones, which basically let them open a flap in the rear wing to reduce drag and go even faster. And pit stops—oh my god, Ellie, you would not believe how fast those things were. Like, two seconds. They’d change all four tires in less time than it takes for me to process my own emotions.

Ellie stared.

Tommy sighed. “And now you’ve done it.”

But you were unstoppable.

“There were teams—Ferrari, Mercedes, Red Bull–and drivers, absolute legends, Ellie. Micheal Schumacher? Genuine. Sebastian Vettel? DOMINANT. And don’t even get me started on Fernando Alonso, that man was driving the wheels off his car even when it was absolute piece of shit—”

Ellie had never seen anyone talk so fast.

Or with so much passion.

She had no clue what the hell you were going on about, but you were practically vibrating with energy, and for some reason, she didn’t want you to stop.

Maybe it was because she had never seen anyone talk about something they loved like this before. Maybe it was because you weren’t treating her like some broken survivor, just another kid who had seen too much too soon.

Or maybe—just maybe—it was because Ellie Williams was already, unknowingly, screwed.

After that, you and Ellie became friends.

And by “friends,” that meant Ellie spent approximately 90% of her time listening to you ramble about F1.

At first, she just humored you. But then it became a daily thing. And then it became… kinda cute?

Not that she’d ever admit it.

She’d be helping Maria stack supplies, and you’d come running up like: 

“Ellie, you are NOT gonna believe what I just found—”

“Lemme guess. Another car magazine?”

“YES! But this one has a breakdown of the entire 2013 Red BUll aerodynamics package—Ellie, they literally perfected the blown diffuser, and don’t even get me started ont he rear suspension geometry—”

And Ellie?

Ellie just… sat there.

And listened.

And watched you, really watched you—how your face lit up, how your hands moved when you explained something technical, how your eyes practically glowed whenever you talked about your favorite cars.

---

The more you read about F1, the more you wanted to talk about it. 

It wasn’t enough to just memorize the track layouts or understand the difference between turbo-hydrated and naturally aspirated engines. You wanted to hear about it—to know what it was really like when the world still had race weekends, packed grandstands, and the deafening roar of a V8 engine at full throttle.

And there were only two people in Jackson old enough to have really experienced it.

Joel and Tommy.

The first time you brought it up, it was casual—just an offhand question while you sat on Tommy’s porch, flipping through a fading 2013 race program. He had been cleaning one of his rifles, but at the mention of F1, he paused, a slow smirk creeping onto his face.

“Now that’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” he mused, setting the gun down.

You perked up. “Wait—you know about it?”

Tommy chuckled. “Hell yeah, I do. Used to watch it with Joel back before the world went to hell. Wasn’t, y’know, obsessed like you are, but I knew enough.”

Your heart pounded. “Did you ever go to a race?”

Tommy grinned, leaning back in his chair. “You actually. Austin.”

Your jaw nearly hit the floor. “You went to COTA?!”

Tommy barked out a laugh. “Shit, kid, relax before you pass out. Yeah, me and Joel went. Must’ve been… what, 2012? Maybe 2013? First time the U.S. had a real Grand Prix in years. We figured—what the hell, might as well see what all the fuss was about.”

You leaned in, eyes wide. “What was it like?”

Tommy sighed, his expression softening. “Man… it was somethin’ else. Big ass crowd, people everywhere, all decked out in their team colors. Whole place smelled like barbecue and gasoline. And the sound—” He whistled, shaking his head. “---that first time those engines fired up? Felt it right in my fuckin’ chest. Loudest damn thing I ever heard.”

You could barely contain yourself. “Who won? Do you remember?” “Some German kid. Vettel, I think?”

You gasped. “Sebastian Vettel! Oh my god, Tommy, you saw him win?! That was the year he took his fourth championship!”

Tommy chuckled at your excitement. “Yeah, yeah, I remember now. Red Bull car, purple thing with the big ol’ charging bull on the side. He ran away with it—nobody could catch him.”

You grinned like a maniac. “Did you see Alonso?”

Tommy thought for a moment. “Yeah, he was there. Ferrari, right? I remember their fans goin’ crazy every time one of those red cars passed by. Never seen a fanbase like that—felt like a damn cult.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “That’s the Tifosi for you.”

At that moment, Joel stepped in, his boots thudding on the old tile floor. He glanced between you and Tommy, raising an eyebrow. “What’s all the excitement about?”

Tommy smirked. “Kid’s askin’ about F1.”

Joel let out a short chuckle, settling onto the porch railing. “Ah, hell. That takes me back.”

You turned to him eagerly. “You also watched?”

Joel shrugged. “Here and there. Tommy was more into it than I was.”

Tommy scoffed. “Bullshit. You were yellin’ at the TV just as much as me.”

Joel smirked but didn’t deny it.

“You should’ve heard it, kid,” Tommy said, shaking his head. “Nothin’ like it. That sound—felt like the whole damn air was vibratin’.”

Joel, surprisingly, looked a little wistful. “Back then, they still had the V8s. Those things screamed down the straights.”

You exhaled through your nose. “I would kill to hear a real F1 car.”

Tommy grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Y’know, kid, if the world hadn’t gone to shit, I bet you’d be one of those engineers in the pit lane, tellin’ the drivers how to shave a tenth off their lap times.”

Joel nodded. “Or one of those commentators who never shuts up about tire strategy.”

You gasped, putting a hand over your heart. “Excuse you, Joel, tire strategy is very important.”

A small silence settled in. Joel sipped his coffee, Tommy went back to cleaning his rifle, and you had moved to the living room to sit on something more comfortable.

You were still flipping through the magazine when you felt a presence behind you. You glanced up to see Ellie standing there, arms crossed, eyebrows drawn together like she was trying to solve some impossible equation.

“So… you seriously just read about cars all day?” she asked, tilting her head.

You rolled your eyes, shutting the magazine with a dramatic thud. “Not just cars. F1. There’s a difference.”

“Right. A very important difference.” Ellie nodded like she totally understood, but the slight smirk on her lips gave her away.

You ignored it, flipping the magazine open again. “This isn’t just some random sport, Ellie. It’s like—like the most technical, high-speed, absolutely insane thing humans have ever come up with. The engineering is insane. The speed. The strategy. The—”

“Yeah, okay, I got it,” Ellie interrupted, laughing under her breath. But she didn’t leave. She just stood there, watching as you traced your fingers over a grainy old photo of a bright red Ferrari.

“D’you actually like this stuff, or are you just hoarding magazines for the hell of it?” she teased.

You turned to her, completely serious. “Ellie. I would trade a kidney to drive one of these.”

Ellie snorted. “Yeah? I’ll keep that in mind if I ever need a transplant.”

A few days later, you and Ellie were out on patrol together, the snowy trees of Jackson blurring past as your horses trotted along the trail.

You were, as usual, talking about cars.

“...and it’s crazy because in the 2013 season, Red Bull had that blown diffuser setup, which basically meant—”

Ellie cut you off with a lazy grin. “Okay, okay, hold on. If you had to put me in one of these fancy F1 cars, you think I’d be any good?”

You scoffed. “Ellie, you ride your horse like an old man with a bad hip.”

Ellie gasped in mock offense. “Wow. Rude.”

You grinned. “You’d probably stall the car five times before even leaving the pit lane.”

Ellie shot you a look. Then, with an air of forced nonchalance, she muttered, “Yeah? Well, maybe you should, y’know… teach me sometime.”

Silence.

You blinked. Did… Ellie just flirt with you?

Ellie immediately cleared her throat, shifting in her saddle like she suddenly wanted to throw herself off the horse. “I—I mean, not that you have to, just, uh—”

You squinted at her. “Are you okay?”

Ellie groaned. “Never mind. Forget it.”

There was a long pause. 

Then, Ellie tried again. 

“You know,” she started, clearly forcing the words out, “If, uh, if you really think I’d be bad at driving, maybe you should, uhm… hold my hands on the wheel or something. While I learn.”

Your brows furrowed.”Ellie… you do realize we don’t have an F1 car, right?”

Ellie’s entire soul left her body.

“Fuck,” she muttered under her breath.

You just kept looking at her, confused. “You’d need a simulator first, honestly. There’ no way you could handle the G-forces right away—”

Ellie sighed loudly. “Yeah, okay, got it. I suck.”

Somewhere, back in Jackson, Dina probably felt a disturbance in the force.

Later that day, Ellie tried again.

You were sitting on the front steps of your house when Ellie approached, hands shoved in her pockets. She rocked back on her heels.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat, “I was thinking about, uh, aerodynamics.”

You looked up. “Oh?”

Ellie nodded. “Yeah. And like… if you had a really fast card. And, uh, you wanted to go faster. You’d want to, um…” She scratched the back of her neck. “Get rid of some drag, right?”

You smiled. “Exactly! Less drag, more speed.”

Ellie pointed at you. “Right! Right. So… you should totally, um… drag me to dinner sometime.”

Silence.

Ellie blinked. “Wait. That made no sense.”

You blinked.

Ellie immediately turned and left. “Forget I said anything.”

---

You were lounging on the couch in Tommy’s place, flipping through the same battered F1 magazine for the hundredth time. You’d heard the door open and stay open, followed by the sound of snow boots. You thought it was Tommy, until something landed in your lap with a soft thud.

You blinked down at it—another magazine, just as worn, the edges curling with age. The cover was barely legible, but your eyes caught the unmistakable silhouette of a Formula 1 car.

“Figured you’d want that,” Ellie muttered, shoving her hands into her pockets. She wasn’t even looking at you, just rocking on her heels like she hadn’t just gifted you the best thing ever.

Your heart did something weird.

“Where the hell did you find this?” you breathed, already flipping through the pages with greedy fingers.

“Patrol,” Ellie said simply. “Saw it in some old shop and, y’know… figured you’d like it or whatever.”

“Ellie.” You turned to her, dead serious. “If the world hadn’t ended, I would marry you on the spot.”

Ellie choked. “Uh—what?”

“Nothing.” You smirked, holding the magazine to your chest like it was the most valuable thing in the world. “Just saying, you keep bringing me stuff like this, and I might start thinking you’re in love with me or something.”

Ellie scoffed, cheeks a little pink. “Shut up.”

Jesse, who had been watching from across the room, let out a low whistle. “Damn, Ellie, you really out here romancing her with scraps of old paper, huh?”

“Dude, shut up,” Ellie groaned, chucking a pillow at him. But even as she rolled her eyes, she didn’t deny it.

---

Ellie’s pathetic attempts at flirting had gone on for weeks. Dina had witnessed all of them. So had Jesse. And quite frankly, both of them were done.

So, naturally, an intervention was in order.

It started at the Tipsy Bison one evening. You, Ellie, Dina, and Jesse were at your usual table, the dim glow of lanterns flickering against the old wooden walls.

You were, as usual, rambling about F1.

“Listen, the reason Senna was so damn good in the rain was because of his throttle control. You can literally see it in onboard footage—he’d feathering the pedal like an artist—”

Ellie was watching you with that look again. That soft, fascinated look that Dina had had enough of.

Dina dramatically set down her drink. “Okay. I can’t do this anymore.”

You pause mid-ramble. “Huh?”

Jesse leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “She means you two.”

Ellie stiffened. “What about us?”

Dina gestured wildly between you. “This. This thing you guys have been doing. Ellie, you flirt like a drunk deer on ice, and you—” she turned to you, exasperated. “You’re so obsessed with F1 that you can’t see that your biggest fangirl is literally sitting right next to you.”

Ellie choked on her drink. “I—what—no, I—”

Jesse sighed. “Look, we’ve seen it for months. Ellie brings you random car magazines like she’d a goddamn raccoon hoarding trash. She pretends to care about tire strategies just to impress you. And you—” he pointed at you—”literally melt on the floor every time she talks, but you just keep info-dumping instead of making a move.”

You stared at him. “First of all, rude.”

Ellie, looking like she wanted to sink into the floor, muttered. “Second of all, not true.”

Dina rolled her eyes. “Oh, really?” Then, Ellie, what was that absolute disaster of a line you used last week?”

Jesse smirked. “Ohhh, yeah. The ‘drag me to dinner’ one?”

Ellie groaned, shoving her face into her hands. “Kill me.”

You, blinking in realization, turned to Ellie. “Wait, that was flirting?”

Ellie lifted her head, incredulous. “Yes?!”

“I can’t watch this anymore,” Dina groaned, throwing her hands up dramatically.

Jesse nodded, arms crossed. “Yeah. This has been, what, months of you two making heart eyes at each other? I’m over it.”

“What—?” Ellie sputtered, looking between them like they had just accused her of murder. “I don’t—I mean, I—shut up.”

You furrowed your brows. “Wait, what’s happening?”

“This.” Dina shoved Ellie forward—hard.

Ellie barely caught herself before crashing into you, hands instinctively gripping your arms to steady herself. Your breath hitched at the sudden closeness, her face inches from yours.

“Uh—shit, okay—hi,” Ellie stammered, her hands twitching where they held you.

Your brain short-circuited. “Hi?”

Jesse sighed. “Oh my God.”

Ellie, still very much trapped in your space, licked her lips nervously. “So, uh. This is—this is dumb, but, like, I—I think I—” She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut for a second. “Fuck it.”

And then, before you could even process what was happening, she kissed you.

It wasn’t smooth or practiced—it was Ellie, which meant it was a little clumsy, a little desperate, but it was her, and your heart basically exploded.

When she finally pulled back, looking ridiculously embarrassed, she cleared her throat. “So. Uh. Yeah.”

“Wow,” you breathed, still kind of stunned. “That was… terrible.”

Ellie’s face burned. “What?!”

“I mean, not the kiss,” you laughed, resting a hand on her chest to calm her down. “Just—God, you really suck at this.”

Ellie groaned, burying her face in your shoulder. “I know.”

Dina grinned. “And yet, somehow, it worked.”

Jesse patted Ellie’s back. “Proud of you, dude.”

Ellie groaned louder.

---

Ellie was getting worse.

Before, she'd get you little "gifts" and try to be subtle about it. Magazines she claimed she just “found lying around,” posters she swore she “didn’t even mean to grab,” and the occasional keychain or sticker she totally didn’t spend twenty minutes digging through an abandoned gas station for.

But now?

Now that you were dating? She had no shame.

The first time you really noticed was when she returned from patrol one evening, a shit-eating grin on her face.

“Okay,” she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Close your eyes.”

You, sitting on the couch, raised a brow. “Ellie, what—”

“Just do it.”

With a suspicious look, you obeyed. You felt her shove something into your hands—something leathery, rough—before whispering, “Okay. Open.”

You blinked your eyes open and looked down. 

It was a jacket. A Ferrari jacket.

Black, with red and yellow accents, the Scuderia Ferrari logo stitched on the chest. It was faded, a little worn, but the moment you recognized it, your heart stopped.

You gasped. “Ellie.”

She shoved her hands in her pockets, rocking back on her heels. “Cool, right?”

You ran your fingers over the embroidered prancing horse. “Where the fuck did you find this?”

Ellie grinned, clearly pleased with herself. “Abandoned mall, buried under some old merch. Thought of you and, y’know, risked my life for it or whatever.”

You look up at her, wide-eyed. “Ellie.”

“What?” she asked, smirking.

“You’re so in love with me.”

Ellie groaned, immediately regretting all her life choices. “Shut up.”

You just smiled, slipping the jacket on. It was a little big, but warm. Cozy. Perfect. You tugged the sleeves over your hands, already knowing you’d never take it off.

Ellie eyes you, chewing her lip. “Oh? You into this, Williams?”

Ellie’s face burned. “Don’t do this.”

You got even closer. “I bet if I called you my little pit crew, you’d—”

Ellie grabbed your face and kissed you, effectively shutting you up.

Yeah. 

You were definitely keeping the jacket.

BONUS

The garage was quiet except for the occasional drip of water from a rusted pipe and the clinking of your tools. The old truck in front of you was a mess, but you were determined to fix it up, even if it meant spending hours crouched over the engine, fingers covered in grease. It was comforting, getting lost in something that actually made sense—gears, pistons, combustion, all of it had a function, a reason. Unlike the world outside.

You were just about to start pulling apart the carburetor when you heard the door creak open. You didn’t think much of it, assuming it was Tommy coming to check in.

“Uhh… hey.”

Ellie.

“Fuck!” Your head slammed into the hood of the car, sending a sharp jolt through your skull. You hissed, stumbling back, only to feel hands steady you from behind.

“Shit, you good?” Ellie winced, holding back a laugh.

You rubbed your forehead, turning to glare at her. “Jesus, Ellie—announce yourself next time! You can’t just sneak up on people working under a car!”

She smirked, rocking back on her heels. “Damn. Didn’t realize F1 mechanics were so jumpy.”

You rolled your eyes, turning back to the engine. “What do you want?”

Ellie leaned against the side of the car, watching you with that stupid little half-smile. “Just curious,” she drawled. “What’re you working on?”

“Trying to fix the starter motor,” you muttered, still focused on your hands. “If I can get this thing running, I might actually be able to—”

You sucked in a sharp breath as Ellie suddenly pressed up behind you, warm and solid. One hand casually braced against the hood above your head, the other slipping along the workbench beside you.

“Starter motor, huh?” Her voice was lower now, close to your ear. “That’s the thing that, uh… makes the car go?”

Your fingers fumbled. “Y-Yeah. It, uh—it converts electrical energy into mechanical motion—”

“Huh.” Ellie’s fingers trailed along your waist, featherlight. “And what’s this part?”

You swallowed hard. “The, uh—the alternator.”

“Mmm. And what does that do?”

She was teasing you. You knew it. But she wasn’t stopping—her hand slowly slipped lower, resting just above your hip, her fingers barely gripping the waistband of your jeans.

Your brain scrambled to function. “It, uh… it keeps the battery charged—”

Ellie hummed. “Damn, look at you. So smart.” Her fingers dipped just slightly under the fabric. “Keep going.”

You gripped the edge of the hood, knuckles white. “Ellie—”

“No, no, keep talking, babe,” she murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. “I like hearing you explain shit.”

“Ellie,” you tried again, voice tight. “I—this isn’t—”

“This isn’t what?” she murmured, lips grazing your jaw as her fingers played with the hem of your jeans. “Not helping?”

“Not helping,” you breathed, grip tightening on the car.

Ellie chuckled, her free hand coming up to your waist, toying with the fabric of your shirt. “Aw, c’mon. Thought you loved talking about this stuff.”

You shuddered as her fingers brushed against bare skin. “I do—”

“Then keep going.” She shifted just slightly, pressing herself against your back. You could feel the warmth of her, the steady rise and fall of her breathing. “Tell me what this part does.”

You looked down, barely registering the piece of the engine she was pointing at. Your brain was static.

“Ellie—”

“C’mon, sweetheart.” Her hand dipped lower, fingers ghosting over the waistband of your underwear. “I’m waiting.”

Your breath hitched, hands flexing uselessly at your sides. “I—I can’t—”

“Can’t what?” She kissed the side of your neck, smirking against your skin as she felt you tense up. “Think?”

You whined, barely nodding.

“Shame.” Her hand finally slipped into your jeans, fingers pressing just where you needed her. You gasped, head dropping forward as your knees nearly gave out.

“Ellie—fuck—”

“Language,” she teased, her pace agonizingly slow. “That how they talk in the pit lanes?”

You would’ve laughed if you weren’t actively fighting for your life. “I—please—”

“Mmm, that’s not an answer,” she murmured, pressing a little firmer. “Try again.”

You let out the most humiliating noise of your life. Ellie loved it.

“God,” she breathed, her own voice a little uneven now. “You’re so easy—”

“Ellie—”

She finally gave in, sliding two fingers in, pumping them in and out slowly. The only thing you could do was clutch onto the hood of the car for dear life as she worked you open.

“That’s it, baby,” she muttered, kissing along your shoulder. “Hold on for me.”

You were gone.

Ellie kept going, kept pushing you closer, whispering filth into your ear.

"Bet you wish I let you off easy, huh?" she murmured, her fingers only speeding up  as your thighs shook against her. "But you just had to be a little know-it-all—had to show off. Look at you now."

You whined, gripping the car so hard your knuckles turned white.

"C’mon," she teased, lips grazing your ear. "Tell me about the—fuck, listen to those little noises—tell me about the transmission again."

You tried—you really tried—but all that came out was a wrecked, gasping moan. Ellie laughed, breath hot against your neck.

"Yeah, that’s what I thought."

Her free hand snaked up under your shirt, palm flat against your stomach. "Y’know," she muttered, her pace quickening, "I was gonna stop if you couldn’t keep talking, but—fuck—you sound so pretty like this."

Your entire body shuddered.

"So desperate. So fucking dumb for me, huh?"

You whimpered, nodding frantically.

"God, you love this," she breathed, grinding against you now. "Love when I make it so fucking hard for you to think. You gonna come for me, baby? Gonna let me hear how bad you need me?"

You nodded frantically, gasping as Ellie’s fingers curled just right inside you, the heel of her palm pressing down in a way that had your stomach tensing, twisting.

"Words," she murmured, teasing, taunting, as if she wasn’t completely ruining you.

You tried—God, you tried—but all that came out was a wrecked whimper, your mouth falling open on a sound you’d never made before.

Ellie groaned, her lips brushing your ear. "Fuck, you sound so pretty."

She was everywhere—one hand gripping your waist, holding you up as your legs threatened to give out, the other working relentlessly between your thighs. The car’s hood dug into your palms, keeping you upright as she drove you closer and closer, pushing you right to the edge.

"C’mon, baby," she murmured, kissing along your jaw, your neck, your shoulder. "Let go for me. Wanna feel you come on my fingers."

That did it—her voice, her touch, the pressure, the heat. Your body tensed, a sharp, choked sound escaping your lips as everything inside you snapped.

You came hard, your thighs clamping around her hand, your breath stuttering as white-hot pleasure surged through you. Ellie didn’t stop—she worked you through it, grinding against you, whispering the filthiest praise into your ear.

"That’s it, baby—fuck, that’s it—look at you, so perfect—so fucking good for me—"

Your head dropped back against her shoulder, breath coming in shaky gasps as she slowed her movements, coaxing every last bit of pleasure out of you until you were nothing but a trembling mess in her arms.

For a moment, the only sound in the garage was your ragged breathing, the distant creak of the wooden beams above, the hum of a world that didn’t matter anymore—because all you could feel was her.

Ellie pressed a soft kiss to your temple, her hands finally stilling against your spent body. Then, with the smuggest fucking voice you’d ever heard, she murmured—

"So… about that alternator?"

You slapped her arm.

also i tried being aesthetic with that lil header some people do but i think i failed miserably

[artdcnaldson]

hey <3 so i have been thinking about patrick’s sister au a lot and reread it and if by any chance its on your mind i just think it would be like crazy if mr.art is around for the holidays with your fam and being extra careful with the sneaking around even tho like seeing you like dressed up and enjoying the holiday season makes him like so down bad 🙏🏻🙏🏻 she gets him a present and he actually has a nice one for her too 🕯️🕯️ (i’ve been talking to this guy irl for sometime and im a little impatient so im trying to distract by rereading challengers stuff)

pat's SISTER 💜

this is still my absolute favorite au of all time i just feel like rahhhhh like i want to write it but i always want it to be perfect yk??

Anyways, yeah <3 <3 <3 <3

With Art's grandma in the retirement home, he doesn't really have a big reason to go home for Holiday break from Stanford. He goes home with you to your big, pretty house in the North East, and says it's bc he wants to see Patrick and make sure that you don't run your big mouth and tell him everything.

But you know he's really just eager to spend the holidays with you... because he loves you... you're his sweet girl, his pretty little plaything. He can't go a few weeks without slipping inside that perfect slice of heaven between your legs <3 And he loves you, obviously. <3

That's why he tries to ignore you at first <3 He loves you so much he doesn't want Patrick to get mad at you for fucking his best friend!

But it's hard to stay away when your mom has decided that this is the year you'll all go out and celebrate the holidays (which has nothing to do with your father's upcoming election, of course). You're out ice skating, and Art and Patrick can barely manage more than a wobble on their skates, but you're skating circles around them, doing little spins and trick because you took a figure skating class when you were twelve. And, god, he hates how cute you look. He hates that he even thought of you as cute and not something more degrading and in line with how he wants to think about you.

You go to the nearest botanical gardens to look at the decorations, sipping at hot chocolate, breath puffing out in front of your face. He wants to kiss you so badly, or maybe he wants to pull you in the nearest bathroom and fuck you over the sink. Both? It's all so confusing.

It's that night that Art finally goes to your room, and you're awake like you knew that he was going to be there. Not like you had been staying up until the middle of the night since your first night there, or anything. He pins you against your sheets, murmurs in your ear about how goddamn crazy you're driving him. And it all sounds like a confession of love in your ears.

But then his tongue is in your mouth and his fingers are rubbing over your clit and he's spitting into his hand so he can fuck you in your childhood bed. It's all so perfect, it's all so right. His hand clapped over your mouth, his hot breath panting into your neck.

You feel weird, when you knock on the door to his guest room for once. His hair is shaggy and messy from his shower, and he's wearing a stanford tennis crewneck. He looks so cozy, if not a little concerned that you're there.

"Are you insane? Patrick's gonna see y—" His gaze drops to your hands, to the carefully wrapped box in them. "Oh."

You sit on his bed, eyes frustratingly hopeful as you look up at him. He unwraps it carefully his brows knitting as he opens the box. Jesus fucking Christ.

"It's a watch!" You say, like it's that simple. Like it's not a really fucking nice one. "You're always wearing your digital one that beeps for no reason at 3am, and I know you'll never fix it, so I thought a future famous tennis player needs a big, fancy watch."

Big fancy watch indeed. He sighs, runs his hands through his hair. He thought he'd make it through the trip without having to be sappy, but, unfortunately, he was. He goes into the closet and grabs a little gift bag he'd brought. Just in case.

When he hands it to you, you look at him like he'd just proposed marriage or something. You open it to find something a little simpler than an expensive watch. It's a crewneck, just like the one he'd been wearing. Actually... it's a little more worn, not brand new at all. And when you pull it from the bag, you can smell his cologne on it.

"You're always stealing it anyway, so I just thought... y'know. I upgraded mine, so I figured you can just have it." He says. "It's not a big deal. And just don't wear it around Pat."

You don't say anything for a while. You just tug him to sit on the bed, then shift to your knees in front of him. "Can you stay quiet?" You whisper, lips brushing the hem of his boxers.

He nods, brushing your hair back with a surprisingly tender touch. You kiss the soft skin of his thighs, and he nearly shivers. You're quick to undress him, desperate to have access to the part of him that you love so much. You mouth at his balls as he steadily hardens above you, getting lost in the pulse of him on your tongue, the way he moans softly, just for you to hear.

When you finally take him into your mouth, he thinks he could probably love you, if he let himself. But wouldn't that be kind of cruel? To give you everything you want, when he knows that you love him so much more than he can love you? It almost makes him feel guilty when he cums down your throat, when you swallow his spend like it's a gift in and of itself.

You kiss his thigh twice, practically nuzzling against him before you get up and go back to bed.

[cardierreh15]

Variants

This is just part one of two! Enjoy ⚡️🐺

***I do not give anyone consent to copy, translate or repost my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Angst , Mild Violence .

Pairings: Logan Howlett (Cavillrine) x Ororo Munroe also known as Storm ⚡️

Description: Ororo wakes up in another universe, she meets someone familiar…

Word Count: 4.8K

Song: Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen (but whatever your favorite version is)

Earth-811, Days of Future Present (my own twist) to Earth-199999

Side Note: Please keep in mind, this is not at all accurate and I am only writing something I thought up. Anything from how she got to this Earth from to her meeting Logan is not canon events.

Side, Side Note: Lyrics are in regular italics. Ororo's thoughts are in Italics Bold and OG Logan's voice is in orange italics.

Part One

Now I've heard there was a secret chord

That David played and it pleased the Lord

But you don't really care for music, do ya?

It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth

The minor fall, the major lift

The baffled king composing "Hallelujah”

It was a beautiful day on Earth 199999. Not a cloud to be spotted. The birds chirped and there was even a cool breeze to combat the humid air that the season had brought in on its back. But all of that was about to change.

With the bat of an eye, dark heavy clouds rolled into the view of the sun. Blocking out any rays that were toasting up some skins and feeding flowers. Violent lightning bolts filled the sky and loud thunder shook the ground beneath the feet of man. Rain beat down like rocks and the wind blew so strong, it toppled cars and pulled trees from their roots.

In the middle of that chaos, was a woman who would change the entire timeline of this world. Though, she had no idea where she was or whether she was even alive. But she was what this world needed.

Falling unconscious from the thunderous clouds, she collapsed into the pacific. Engulfed and swallowed up by the merciless deep blue. One would think that was the end of this Storm Goddess. But fate and destiny were willing to bend the rules when it came to fulfilling their name.

Upon her contact, the impact of her landing had not only caused hurricanes but water spouts that could tear up an entire island and record breaking tsunamis. Countless lives had been lost upon her ascend.

Months had passed on by and the world was slowly healing from the detrimental damage that came with Ororo’s hard landing. Reporters and storm researchers tried to get to the bottom of what could’ve caused something like this to happen so simultaneously and without warning. The UN (United Nations) had already started on their own journey trying to get to the bottom of it; if it was mutant related and purposeful. As if they give a damn about that really. On her Earth, the United States were the reason why she was here in the first place.

Ororo was found caught in a fishing net in Vancouver. She was well preserved and oddly enough, still warm to the touch. Yet, still knocked into a deep coma that not even inhaling water could wake her from.

A man, not from this plain, had noticed that she wasn’t exactly human. And if the other fisherman had suspected her of being a mutant, they’d have her shipped off to a lab somewhere in the US after they collected their reward. So, he took her back to his home in Alberta, Canada. Far away from society and where he could be himself.

The stranger would come check on the brown sleeping beauty every once in a while. Everyday in the morning before he went to chop wood to aid her fireplace and then once before sunset. She looked familiar to him, but he couldn’t exactly pin it. She was enigmatic! And the feeling of limerence grew the longer she stayed. The way her white finely twisted dreads lay splayed out beneath her head, her thick white brows and lashes. How the shade appeared to enhance her skin and feminine features. Even in her time of nadir, she took his breath away.

Almost like a forbidden kind of beauty. The one that came with a dark past.

Those days had turned into weeks and finally a month had passed since her arrival at the stranger’s residence.

Ororo’s eyes had flashed open, white as her hair as she inhaled so much air that instantly burned her lungs and choked her out.

Sitting up, she placed her hand over her chest before gripping the linens that she wore. She wheezed as salty tears streamed down her face as she fought to breathe. Her vision blurred, her head felt so heavy and it throbbed with an achy vengeance. The words of her lover repeated in her ears.

I love you, Ororo. You don’t have to come back for me. If you find a perfect world, stay there.

She coached herself to steady her breathing as her snowy eyes had faded into something more human. Brown as the Earth’s soil. Ororo hiccuped as her awareness finally hit her like a ton of bricks. She scanned the bedroom for anything to tell her where she was. Or at least, which part of the Multiverse she had landed in.

Pulling herself from the warmth of the heavy comforters, she felt as if she’d been only asleep for a day. Her limbs and balance worked as they did when she was fleeing from the Sentinels. Though, it came with only a little bit of soreness. That was from the battering of the waves.

She whimpered as she rotated her arm to aid the soreness there. ‘Aah. Where the hell am I?’ The bedroom was a piece of paragonal work. Lots of natural light that was let in by 3 large arched windows and a large skylight window that made stargazing comfortable when night came. 

The furniture was vintage; carved out of mahogany and donned with gold handles and knobs. All of the furniture was dusted clean, the mirror at the vanity didn’t see a speck or smudge. A telltale sign that someone had been in here to visit her quite frequently.

With the bedroom’s cleanliness, came no clues of where she was. Ororo began to rummage and search through the dresser drawers and the nightstand. 

Breathing heavily as she felt herself growing anxious with tears filling her eyes, she felt herself falling apart. 

Don’t come back for me. 

Logan please.

I mean it, thundercloud. If you find a perfect world, stay there. 

‘Ooh! Fuck you, Logan!’ She exclaimed through gritted teeth as tears fell from her eyes. ‘Fuck you! Fuck you!’ She exclaimed as she slammed her fists into the mahogany wood that cracked beneath her strength. 

A loud thunder crack echoed outside, with a bolt hitting right outside her bedroom window.

Tiny bolts of lightning danced around her fists as she brought them up before opening her palms. The tiny bolts flickered before vanishing completely and a tear fell in their place. 

Wiping her snotty nose with her sleeve, she took a deep breath and wiped her tears with her free wrist. How was she going to make it without him?

The sound of 80’s rock and roll brought her out of her misery. The same kind of music they’d listen to together on his motorcycle when times were much simpler. She used to peel the clouds out of the sky or simply push them over the next city so they could go riding. 

The smell of his cigar smoke mended into his brown leather jacket. The way his thick dark hair used to fluff about in the wind and how he used to risk their lives by rubbing her arm when she held him tight.

Good times.

Ororo rushed towards the large wooden door and tugged it open with its golden knob. She was met with fresh air when she rushed outside. The sound of the music was no longer muffled by the thickness of those wooden walls. Yet it did echo and bounce off of trees in the surrounding area.

Quickly making her way down the wooden steps, she founded the calls and howls of the infamous Axel Rose. It didn't take her long to find the host; just a cut around the cabin and she was standing in front of it. Catacorner from it was a makeshift garage. Old broken down cars, motorcycles, and tires lie scattered about.

This looked just like Logan’s garage. A mess and unkept.

She felt as if this was all some kind of fever dream. 

Inclined to meet the person who saved her, Ororo began to journey forward until she came across a mature and very large Fir tree that sported claw marks. She walked towards it as the fast music became a blur in her ears. She ran her finger tips over the marks. 

9 claw marks but in threes. She knew only one person who could pull this off. 

‘Oh my god— JAMES!’ Her heart fluttered like crazy as she sped walked to the garage and pushed the doors open. ‘JAMES!’

There he stood, back turned as he worked on his bike. He wore his classic white wife beater, denim jeans and brown boots. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat as he squeezed the clutch of his bike. She was sure that he couldn’t hear her over the shouting of Guns N Roses and the purr of his motorcycle, so she reached her hand up towards one of the hanging lamps and shot a lightning bolt at it. 

A gleaming smile curled up on her lips with a twinkle in her eye.

That caught his attention, causing him to stand up straight.

There was a long pause before the individual reached over and turned down the old school radio that sat on the toolbox. 

‘You know it’s been a long time since someone called me that.’

His voice… He didn’t sound like the Logan she knew and loved. Though from this angle, he was the spitting image. Her smile remained. ‘Wh-what do you mean we—‘

The male finally turned around to face her. But the cloud of smoke from the cigar that he puffed on, made him impossible to make out.

She used to hate the smell, now she lived for it. Craved it.

‘You still smoke those-‘

Stepping through the cloud, the individual revealed himself. 

His hair was curly thick, styled up to resemble ears as if he were a puppy. The same way her James used to style his hair. He even sported that very same beard cut with the center of his chin shaved and his jaws furry. 

His eyes were bright blue unlike the original Logan’s, comforting brown.

Her smile faltered as she placed a hand on her stomach and took a step back.

‘Hmm.’ The man grumbled as he reached behind him and scooped up a white dirty hand towel to wipe his hands. He held his lit cigar in his jaw before taking it out with his clean fingers.

Ororo stood there, her eyes wide in shock and confusion. Her mouth opened to ask a question but the words just wouldn’t come out!

‘I didn’t think you’d ever wake up. You seem to be walking well.’

He was the one that saved her.

‘H-‘ she swallowed, ‘How long was I out?’

Tossing the dirty cloth on the toolbox, he placed the cigar back between his lips and inhaled greatly. And when he exhaled, another large cloud of smoke shrouded the garage.

‘Well,’ he grumbled, ‘You’ve been here for about a month. I uh— suspect you have no idea what’s going on… do you?’

A month? There’s no way I have been here for a month! I stepped in that portal yesterday! 

Ororo placed her hand on her neck as she felt her blood pressure begin to spike. Her body began to gently rock side to side as her stomach twisted and turned.

‘Wh-where did you find me a-and where am I?’

‘You’re in Alberta…’

Her eyes grew, ‘CANADA?!’

‘Some fishermen in Vancouver found you sleeping in a net with some salmon.’ 

She brought her fingers up to her temples and began to rub that spot when her head began to throb. 

And right on cue, thunder roared outside. 

Logan looked up at the roof as rain drizzled and created a song atop the metal. Then he looked back at her. She appeared to be fighting a migraine. And the more she fought, the heavier the drizzle became.

Then it clicked.

‘You alright over there? Need some pain meds?’ He mumbled with his cigar in his mouth.

‘Mmph! It’s okay just—.’

‘Uh-huh. Y’know, there’s been some dangerous storms going on. Tsunamis, Hurricanes, typhoons, the whole nine.’

‘Mmm.’ Ororo grimaced at the pain, squeezing her eyes shut tight as she clenched her jaw together. ‘How long have I been asleep?’

‘I don’t know. But, the storms started about 4 months ago.’ 

I’ve been here for four months?! Oh my god.

‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’ Ororo whimpered as her vision blurred once again from tears. Her chest began to heave and her heart thudded hard in her chest.

‘Oh, whatever you do just—‘

Barf. Clear bubbly flim mixed with yellow bile splattered on the smooth concrete. 

‘Take that… outside. Aw shit.’

The woman collapsed to her hands and knees as he rushed over to her aid. She choked as her insides forced and fought to be on the outside. The taste of the raw acid burned at her esophagus and mouth. The rancid taste only made her gag more. 

‘Hey, it’s okay.’

It’s okay, Storm. If we’re meant to be… we’ll be.

Her eyes turned white with tiny bolts dancing around them, heaving harder as she stared at the disgusting vomit.

‘You have to look away! Look at me!’ 

As soon as Logan snatched up her hands, lightning zapped him to hell. 

Fortunately nothing that’ll kill him, but it stung like shit. ‘Aah!’ He hissed as he snatched his hands away, fanning them painfully. ‘Fuck!’

You’re my strong girl.

Ororo shut her eyes tightly as the heaving turned into a sob. ‘I can’t do this without you…’

The drizzle had turned into a heavy pitter patter. Thunder roared outside, causing the tin can of a garage to rattle. 

Logan’s brows tugged into one as the burning tingling began to fade into his hand. He watched as the woman crumbled into herself. 

This wasn’t tears of fear or confusion. But of mourning and grief. He could practically smell the pain exuding off of her. Logan knew what it felt like to lose someone. To be completely lost in a world that didn’t accept who he was. To be alone. 

Reaching out to her, tiny lightning bolts reached out to embrace his fingertips as if they were familiarized with his energy or aura. 

They didn’t burn him this time, just tiny manageable pinches. He placed his palm on her back and sighed softly.

If we’re meant to be…

His mouth parted to say something, afraid to say the wrong thing. 

Ororo blinked her eyes open before looking over at him. 

He was almost the exact same replica of her James. That same mean scowl that she adored greatly.

‘You’ve got blue eyes.’ She said in a hushed tone as she stared into his eyes.

‘You’re very observant.’ Logan said sarcastically with a small chuckle leaving his lips. ‘What is it that they call you?’

My Stormsy. Hey there, my lil’ thundercloud. Hang on lightning bolt! Stormy. 

‘Oro—‘ she sniffed, ‘Forgive me but, I don’t think you’d be able to say my name, white boy.’ She scoffed.

Logan raised his brow, ‘Oh yeah? Try me.’

She tried to muffle her giggle but it fell through, ‘Ororo.’

His brows rose and he blinked hard once.

‘Oro—OK, do you have a nickname?!’

Ororo’s small smile from her giggle had turned into a charming grin as laughter escaped her, ‘Yeah,’ she sighed softly. He was just like him. From his facial expressions to how effortlessly hilarious he was. She was comfortable near him.

‘Storm. Just call me Storm.’

‘Now that sounds… do-able.’ His smirk curled up into a small smile before he felt a raindrop fall upon his shoulder. They both looked up at the ceiling. Another fell on his forehead.

‘Well, that would explain the weather.’ Then wiped his head free of the water and looked back over at her, then it clicked. He was a terrible host.

Her white eyes began to fade into her brown ones.

Glancing down at the barf, he then glanced back at her, ‘You must be starving.’

‘No, no. It’s OK, I’ve been too much trouble already just—‘

‘No, I insist. You haven’t ate—‘

Wrrrrr. Ororo slapped her hand against her stomach as it sang its hunger song, as if she could shut it up like a finger to a set of lips. She snatched her eyes away from his gaze and shut them in defeat.

‘Mmm. I thought so. Alright, up, up, up.’ He took his large hands and helped her to her feet. ’

Rolling her eyes at his condescending tone, she pushed herself up to her feet with his help.

‘Ya alright?’ He asked as he slowly pulled his hands away.

‘Yeah,’ The electricity vanished once again within her, ‘Thank you.’

‘Mmm,’ his head fell to the side, ‘Don’t mention it. Look, I’m gonna get this cleaned up—‘ 

‘James, please—‘ she paused. 

He looked down at her for a long moment. ‘You’re the only one who can get away with calling me that.’ Turning away from her he walked towards the far corner of the garage. 

Ororo let out a sigh and placed her hands on her hips. Were they all the same in every universe? Hardheaded and guileless. Arguments were always challenging with him. 

‘You don’t have to clean up after me, I'm not some kind of damsel in distress.’

‘Well,’ he scoffed as he picked up a bucket and a mop, ‘You were just kind of sleeping beauty for ‘bouta month. I’d say you’re pretty damn close enough. Oh, and— Aurora… mind easing up on the rain until we get the food here?’ 

Her mouth fell before she stammered over her words. ‘We—I—‘

Wait a minute did he just call me beautiful? Damn, they are just alike. 

And he left her inside of the garage to retrieve water for the bucket.

***

Ororo did not in fact keep the rain in check. Instead, when she went back into the cabin she found herself missing James more and more. But, how could she miss him when he was right outside? 

Oh, she was so confused. Stuck in a whirlwind of emotions. But she had to count her blessings. Who knows what would’ve happened if he didn’t find her. She could’ve been poked and pried at beneath wandering eyes. Chopped up in itsy bitsy pieces and thrown in a particle accelerator to be sold to the highest bidder.

At least that was more humane than the chaos that ensued on her world. 

A knock echoed in her bedroom and the sound of the knob twisting followed.

Ororo was bent over the vanity, checking for any oddities that the portal could’ve left her with. So far, so good. The door creaked open and she turned torso to the side.

‘Hey—whoa—‘

With her voluptuous rump in view, she rested her chin on her fist, ‘Your mama ever taught you to knock? What if I was naked?!’

‘Well for one, I did knock. And my mama, didn’t exactly raise a gentleman if you want me to be honest. Come, I’ve got Chinese.’ 

***

The pair sat in silence as they indulged on their take out. Ororo did her best not to inhale all of it so she ate slowly.

Logan chuckled, ‘That’s cute!’ 

Shit, he was on to her.

‘Mmm? What?’ She grumbled as she placed her hand over her lips so that she wasn’t spitting out food.

‘Oh nothing. It’s just you’re trying so hard not to kill all of your food. Eat! Trust me, you definitely need it more than I do.’

‘I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ She said as she stifled her giggle and took another bite out of her food. 

‘Right.’ He snickered and took a sip of his beer. 

The dining room grew quiet once again, soft thunder filled the silent void between them. Not necessarily on purpose but she was studying him. They were eating sweet n sour pork. 

James hated pork. He hated the smell, the salty-ness, the texture and the tummy ache and headache that it gave him after it all. She remembers having to cave in to buying turkey bacon. 

The things you do for love. The sacrifices you make.

James was also right handed. Everything he did started with his right side and eventually the left would aid it. Not that the left was as strong as the right, but when it came to swinging his claws, it always got the job done.

This Logan was an ambidextrous individual. Using both of his hands to work into his food without looking funny. It was so natural.

‘I can feel you burning a hole in my face.’ He murmured as his bright blue hues remained glued to his plate.

It was then when she finally blinked, ‘sorry you just— you just remind me of someone I—‘ she paused as her head fell into her lap.

Logan’s eyes flickered up at her for a second, reading her like a book. ‘Boyfriend?’

She remained quiet.

‘Yeah, I know that look. Sported it a few times myself. Would you like to talk about it?’

Oh she wouldn’t even know where to begin. Should she start with Mystique mercilessly murdering Senator Robert Kelly? Or how her blood contributed to the industrial process of the Sentinels that killed mutants or threw them into concentration camps? How this Logan sitting in front of her could be one of hundreds and maybe thousands of variants of her dead lover?

That was a lot to take in. He wouldn’t even believe her.

‘I—Honestly, I wouldn't even know where to start.’

‘I’ve got nothing but time.’

You take up all my time, Lightning Bolt. A punishment when I have to leave but a reward when I come back home to you. 

Inhaling deeply through her nose, she let out a gentle breath. ‘I’m —‘ Ororo tried to process it herself. If she hadn’t lived it, it wouldn’t have even made sense to her either. 

‘This is going to sound crazy.’ 

‘Trust me, I’ve seen and heard crazy. There’s nothing you can say to me that I haven’t already heard.’ 

He mustn’t be so sure.

Even that little comment was something James would’ve said. Verbatim. 

‘Alright.’ She sat up straight and let out another breath of air, ‘I’m not from… here.’

Logan sat quietly. She had his full and undivided attention.

‘I’m not from… here.’ She repeated.

‘Oookaaaay, I think I got that the first time.’ He sighed and folded his arms together. ‘What do you mean?’

Damn it was a lot harder to say than she thought. Perhaps she try a different approach. She would talk about… him.

‘My boyfriend… he uh— he was one of a kind. Smart, goofy, sweet… he was everything I dreamed of. He uh— and his brother had it rough. His family was well off… and in most cases the mother and father weren’t around much thus, was raised by their nanny. One night, some man comes into their home and kills their father. It was then when he discovered his powers. He grew—‘ 

Ororo glanced down at Logan’s fist as his fingers tapped against the table cloth. 

‘Claws.’ Her gaze rose to his once again. ‘He stabbed the man in hopes of getting to avenge his father… but it was then revealed to him that the stranger was in fact he and his brother’s biological father.’

Logan stared at her in complete horror. But he remained calm.

Your faith was strong, but you needed proof

You saw her bathing on the roof

Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew ya

She tied you to a kitchen chair

She broke your throne and she cut your hair

And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.

‘What then?’ He asked before picking up his beer once again. 

‘He and his big brother ran away. Fought in World War II. Years later he met me at Xavier’s School of Gifted—‘

‘Youngsters.’

‘Youngsters.’ She repeated slowly. 

He stared at her for a moment before shaking his head, ‘How do you— How do you know all of that?!’

Swallowing her spit, Ororo pressed her lips together, ‘I know — so much more, Logan.’

‘So what, do you read minds like Charles?!’ His voice was a little bit more stern than before.

‘Ja-Logan, it’s not like that! I—I come from a different timeline!’

His eyes grew in disbelief and he raised his hands, ‘Alright. That’s enough sweet n sour pork for you. Now you’re just talking out of your ass.’ He reached over to grab her container but she grabbed his wrist tightly. It was heavy. Just as she thought.

‘Has it ever occurred to you why or how a complete stranger would know your name?!’ 

‘Maybe you’ve been looking at my mail?!’

‘Your name is James Howlett! You had a brother named Liev, also named as Sabertooth—‘

‘What?!’ He chuckled.

‘You were born 1882! Here in Alberta, Canada.’

‘These are all things you can look up on google sweetheart.’ He said as he gently pulled his fist away.

‘That would make sense if I could use google in my sleep!’ She bit back. She watched as he pulled her styrofoam container away. ‘And I don’t think you added your Adamantium skeleton to the census.’

I did my best, it wasn't much

I couldn't feel, so I tried to touch

I've told the truth, I didn't come to fool ya

And even though it all went wrong

I'll stand before the lord of song

With nothing on my tongue but hallelujah

He stared at her for a moment before swallowing hard.

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about? That metal doesn’t even exist.’ He added as he carried off their take out to the kitchen.

Now, she was annoyed. She folded her arms across her chest and slouched back against the wooden chair with her full lips in a slight pout. That was until she realized what he said.

‘Wait—‘ she quickly stood to her feet and walked into the kitchen, ‘I never said anything about Adamantium being metal!’ 

Logan opened the refrigerator to place the containers inside, ‘You didn’t? Well, it sounds like it would be metal. The “Tium” at the end of it adds the razzle dazzle.’ 

Ororo was growing irritated with his banter. So she snatched the refrigerator door handle and slammed it, not caring much if the food was in there properly. Her backside was pressed firmly against the cool stainless steel.

‘Hey!’ He glared at her.

‘You asked me if I wanted to talk about it and I AM—‘

‘I didn’t ask you for a damn biography on my life!’

Her head fell to the side before looking down at his fists. 

‘Show me.’

Logan stepped back, his thick brows tugging into one. ‘Show you what? There’s nothing to show you!’ 

‘I want to see them! Show me!’ 

‘Lady, you’re really losing it right now.’

‘I WANT TO SEE THEM— NOW!’ She exclaimed as her eyes glowed white with lightning and she raised her hand to cast a lightning bolt at his chest. 

The white electricity sent him flying back against the wall, leaving a large cave in, in its place. He fell to his hands and knees as he groaned and howled in pain. White lightning bolts danced and trickled around his torso, arms and neck. ‘GUH—AAUURGH!’ 

She hadn’t realized what she’d done until it was too late. ‘Oh my god! James!’ Ororo rushed over to him but stopped in her tracks when she heard the unsheathing of his blades. 

She blinked away her glowing eyes as he painfully pulled himself up to his feet. Bubbles of saliva dripped from between his teeth. At his sides were those infamous Adamantium claws. They were beautiful. 

She glanced up at him in caution as she began to slowly approach him. 

Logan growled, taking a step back as he breathed heavily through the pain. 

‘James please, I’m sorry! I know all of this sounds crazy ok? You have to believe me.’

‘B-believe y-you?! Hell, I d-don’t even know you!’ He sputtered through the pain.

The words pained her, ‘I-I deserve that. But I know you.’ She finally walked to him and reached out to wrap her small hand around his fist. Logan turned his head away from her.

Maybe there's a God above,

but all I've ever learned from love,

was how to shoot at someone who out drew you.

And its not the cry you hear tonight,

its not somebody who's seen the light.

‘In a different time— you loved me. And looking at you now…’ she placed her hand against his jaw and turned his gaze back towards her, ‘Means that I have a second chance. Think about it, you went all the way to Vancouver … you had no idea I was there but you came there for me.’

Logan stared down at her, his heaving panting began to slowly return to normal.

‘I know that you hate New Age music, I know that your hobbies include choking down cigars and chopping wood. I know that you love riding your bike on sunny days in the mountains! I know that you dreamed of living in a small cabin like this one.’ Her voice cracked as she did her best to fight back her heartbreak. He never got to see the life he deserved.

It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.

‘I know that you’ve moved far away to keep from hurting others. I was there, Logan.’

Ororo’s words were almost inaudible; being choked up with tears, she stared up into his eyes as she fought hard not to cry again. 

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Sheathing his blades back into the safety of his knuckles, he reached up to grab her fist gently into his large hand. 

‘How much did you love me—him?’

‘Oh James…’ her eyes fluttered as a thick warm tear fell down her cheek. ‘With all of my being…’

Those words ached him a little as if he knew that she did, as if he witnessed her love for him. He’d fallen in love many times. But they never amounted to anything in the end. Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.

Maybe—

If we’re meant to be— we’ll be.

Ororo burst into a gut wrenching sob before Logan brought her into his strong, heavy arms. He rested his cheek atop her head as she soaked his filthy wife beater. 

Hallelujah. 

[donovankinard]

what's up guys!!! monthly recs - some holiday-related fics and then just general fics. i've not had as much opportunity to read fic as i normally do, and i'm pretty disappointed by that, but the hecticness of the holiday season has restrained me, unfortunately. for december we've got a lot of buddie and tevan, tarlos, bathena, mateo/nancy, polyfire, saltommy and a dash of henren! happy new years<3

🎁 cheap décor and flavoured cheer || @theclaravoyant evan buckley/eddie diaz/tommy kinard || 4k When Eddie flies back to El Paso, something goes terribly wrong. A fic about hurt/comfort, nostalgia, Christmas and coming home.

🔥 thursdays child has far to go|| @kinnsporsche evan buckley/tommy kinard || 17k Tommy laughs, as much as it can be called a laugh when he can barely get the air to do it, but his breath still grazes against Buck’s lips, the ghost of what he really wants. It’s warm, and Tommy’s still looking at him, and it’s been eighteen days, and he’s baked on nearly every one of them. They’re in a crashed helicopter and Tommy’s pinned down and it’s a terrible idea and it’s been eighteen days, he’s counted every one, and- Buck kisses him.

🔥 snowflakes falling like winter butterflies || 2pretty_2die evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.6k “Oh man, I don’t think I’ve seen snow in nearly a decade.” “I don’t think I’ve ever seen snow outside of TV and movies.”An off-handed comment made while they cuddled on the couch watching Tommy’s favorite (Christmas) movie on Netflix ended with Buck scouring the internet for a surprise for his boyfriend.

🔥 Misperception || @emphasisonthehomo evan buckley/tommy kinard || 7.2k There’s a new kid at Harbor. He’s the youngest rookie they’ve ever gotten, one of those guys that went for the academy right out of high school. He’s also gay. Flamboyantly gay. Tommy’s jealous. OR: It doesn’t occur to Tommy that he should come out.

🔥 Bulletproof || ScarsLikeVelvet evan buckley/david 'deacon' kay || 1.1k (S.W.A.T. crossover). A rain of bullets is the beginning of the end for Evan's and Eddie's time at the 118. Their professional paths divide, but they remain close all the same while making new friends.

🔥 take my hand, heal my wound || 2pretty_2die evan buckley/donovan rocker || 1.2k (S.W.A.T. crossover). Buck expected a lot when it came to a day of hanging out with Christopher. He knew they’d play some games, maybe watch a movie, go indulge in some good food—because he has definitely turned the kid into a fellow foodie—and likely spend some time out in the sun. What he did not expect to happen was to end the day cleaning gravel from his boyfriend's hands.

🔥 A quiet place || @calinaannehart athena grant/bobby nash || 2.7k Athena had given up trying to sleep somewhere around three and had settled on the couch to wait for the sunrise. It used to be her favorite time of day, the array of reds, oranges, and yellows that painted the sky over the backyard as the sun inched its way over the horizon offering a prelude to a beautiful day. Now, however, it served as nothing more than a countdown.

🔥 Sprinkles of Joy|| BatThatBites mateo chavez/nancy gillian || 2k Mateo and Nancy are tasked with making the cookies for the 126 winter party. It can’t be that hard, right? ….Right?

🔥 A Crack In The Facade || immortalje carlos reyes/tk strand || 634w Working on last bits of release paperwork, Carlos tried to process the conversation he just had with TK and the glimpse it had given him behind the facade he wore for everyone else.

🔥 my lover's body is a map || @kinnsporsche evan buckley/tommy kinard || 15.5k They're all scarred. All of them. There isn't a single person in the firehouse that's unscarred, it's just the nature of the job. But that doesn't make the process of getting them any easier to deal with. Or: the one where Buck's drawn to Tommy's scars.

🔥 voyage || miss_tessa carlos reyes/tk strand || 1.4k The night before Carlos goes to see his father, and the moments after.

🔥 love from the other side || @fallout-mars carlos reyes/tk strand || 2.4k “Baby, oh my god,” TK replies, the words rushing out. Barely realizing what he’s doing, he manages to abandon the cups on the table over the hospital bed, moving to his husband. He’s glad he has enough hindsight—or paramedic instincts—to go to his uninjured side, because his first response is to help steady Carlos. He’s fine on his feet, but TK does it anyway, just to feel helpful. “What are you doing up?” he asks as he leads Carlos back to his bed. “You really shouldn’t be up, baby. I thought I could leave you alone for five minutes without you walking around.” Carlos says nothing until he’s back in bed, groaning softly as he lies down. TK follows, hovering over him so he can fluff up the pillow Carlos puts his head on, and that’s when Carlos sighs.

🔥 Campbell’s Soup for the Soon-to-Be Ranger Daddy’s Soul || cyrusbreeze carlos reyes/tk strand || 3.7k Carlos reflects on the possibility of raising Jonah with TK. Ranger Campbell and his family offer a surprising amount of clarity.

🔥 We can make it out (right?) || BatThatBites mateo chavez/nancy gillian || 2.7k Nancy didn’t expect to have her hands sticky with her boyfriend’s blood. Mateo didn’t expect to be bleeding out in a warehouse fire. They both didn’t expect an asteroid to be hurtling towards Austin

🔥 looking forward to the future || @fallout-mars carlos reyes/tk strand || 1.5k Glancing over his shoulder, he looks into the empty backseat of their truck. He stretches a little, careful not to strain himself or his stitches, then gestures behind him with one hand. “You think we’ll be able to get a car seat in here?” Meeting TK’s eye, he gets a blank stare in return. “What?” “A car seat,” Carlos repeats. “It’s good we ended up with this. There’s no way we’d fit one in the Camaro. In fact, we’d be violating multiple traffic offences if we did.”

🔥 you can breathe now || @decafdino carlos reyes/tk strand || 1.7k He gets the call while he's at work, because of course he does. Of course the universe decides that something terrible is going to happen in the middle of a shift. Well, fuck the universe. That's TK's philosophy.

🔥 I can't explain what's up with me today || @neversleepuntilfive carlos reyes/tk strand || 1.3k "Hey baby, are you okay?” TK quietly asks his boyfriend, who is sitting on their couch with his head slumped against the armrest. He just came home from his long shift. Carlos doesn’t answer him immediately, contemplating if he can gather his strength and push through it so TK isn’t worried. The truth is the day was horrible. He doesn’t even know why. Carlos usually gets up with the sun. But today, he doesn't. He's feeling terrible and can't think of a reason why. There is no reason as far as he is concerned.

🔥 Not your fault but mine || Liv_lily carlos reyes/tk strand || 13k TK stood just outside the recovery room they’d wheeled Carlos into, leaning heavily against the wall. There’d been a never-ending stream of medical professionals going in and out since the surgeon had let them know that everything went well, that a full recovery could be expected with time. He squeezes shaking hands into fists and tries to control his breathing, tries to stop the weight on his chest from collapsing in. He feels shaky and nauseous, panic crawling up his spine. Deep breaths, four count in through your nose. Hold four counts. Four count out your through your mouth. He tries to match his breathing to the slow beeping of the vital signs monitor, tries to take comfort in the steady rhythm. He should go into the room.

🔥 in our reflections of one another (we will start something new) || cyrusbreeze carlos reyes/tk strand || 212k (SERIES). Four years before the events of the pilot, Carlos and TK met in a bar in New York City. Their intense one night stand resulted in more than just a lasting impression. When TK arrives in Austin, both Carlos’ and TK’s worlds are rocked to their core and the impact of their night together has ripples that will last for the rest of their lives.

🔥 I am sorry for your loss || carlando_addict carlos reyes/tk strand || 2.3k TK dies and Carlos tries to process what his future will look like without the love of his life.

🔥 Faithless Plea || lonechronicles evan buckley/eddie diaz || 8.2k “I have done everything I was supposed to and still my life has fallen apart, and been ripped to shreds. I, I don’t know how much more I have left in me. You have taken everything from me. You can not have him too. You can’t take him away from me too. Please, please, don’t take him away too. Give Buck back to me because I cannot survive this, I cannot survive anything without him.” His voice was loud, not yelling, but loud enough that if someone had come outside they’d hear a voice. “I don’t even know if I believe in you but here I am, asking, begging, praying, a faithless plea if you will, just, please. Please, for the love of everything that you stand for, bring him back to me. I don’t survive this if he doesn’t make it.”

🔥 Him || lonechronicles evan buckley/eddie diaz || 5k He’s trapped in his head. The lyrics eating at him from every corner of his being. Religion and God and the sins of loving another man, the story vivid in his mind. A man raised on faith, feeling lost and disconnected. Trying to find himself, to understand himself, while feeling like that removes him from everything he's been taught to believe in. Feeling like connecting to himself will rip him away from everything that he knows, alienates him from his family, leaves him heartbroken and alone. So he hides. Hides himself, shelves his feelings and pushes through with what he’s meant to do. There’s a path perfectly laid out for him and it’s safer to follow it. It’s easier. He loses himself but everything else in his life stays intact, and that might just be enough. At least it is for a while.

🔥 you will get a sentimental feeling when you hear voices singing || @smilingbuckley evan buckley/eddie diaz || 2k Buck mopes, has a conversation with Bobby, and goes to a charity event.

🔥 a wolf without a foot || @screamlet evan buckley/tommy kinard || 34k Tommy wants to find his way back to Buck, but he has to find a way through himself first.

🔥 They Can't Take That Away From Me || @rdng1230 evan buckley/tommy kinard || 3.5k Tommy dabs the corners of his mouth with a napkin and gets up from the table, going over to the record player. “Is it wrong that I kinda like that there’s these gaps in your musical knowledge?” Tommy sighs, slipping a record out of the sleeve and placing it on the turn table. “You teach me so much, it’s nice to be able to show you things too. Makes me feel like I’m listening to things for the first time.” Buck feels his heart swell three sizes. He still feels like Tommy’s the one instructing him most of the time. And here comes his boyfriend calling him the teacher. He has a sneaking suspicion his love for this man will never stop growing.

🔥 Shafted || @sunnywithachanceofbi sal deluca/tommy kinard || 6.1k When the 118 are called to rescue a group of employees trapped in an elevator shaft, the power goes out again mid-rescue, leading one of the crew to get hurt.

🔥 100 Days of Henren || @theclaravoyant hen wilson/karen wilson || 4k (ongoing drabble collection). A series of 118-word drabbles centred on Hen, Karen and/or both. Written for 118dailydrabbles hiatus challenge.

🔥 Frost & Found || @sunnywithachanceofbi evan buckley/tommy kinard || 13k Two years after losing his husband (Sal), Tommy magically brings a handsome snowman (Buck) to life! Through his naïveté, the snowman helps Tommy to laugh, feel and love again, as the two fall for each other just in time for the holidays...and before he melts. ☃️

🔥 proof of god in your soup || cardiacsweetheart evan buckley/eddie diaz || 13.5k “God, we’re too old for this.” “What, love confessions?” Buck asks, just to be annoying. Eddie glares at him. “Not what I meant, but sure.” Or: Buck thinks he was born to be left behind. Eddie proves him wrong.

🔥 sell your fear and leave me standing here || @redgoldblue evan buckley/tommy kinard || 12.8k Buck bakes, has sex, and goes to gay bingo. Tommy wallows, gets told off, and wallows some more. Eventually, they kiss again.

🔥 The "Tommy Writes Hotshots Fanfic" Series || @herrmannhalsteadproduction evan buckley/tommy kinard || 7.7k Tommy gets sucked into the Hotshots fandom. (It's Karen and Maddie's fault.)

🔥 Chasing Fires || @thatmexisaurusrex evan buckley/tommy kinard || 150k 24-year-old Tommy Kinard meets 19-year-old Evan Buckley as Evan tries to steal food at a grocery store. Tommy decides to let Evan crash at his place until Evan figures out what his next steps are, giving Evan the same help someone had given Tommy when he had been kicked out of his house years ago.

🔥 our secret moments in a crowded room (they've got no idea about me and you) || @speaknowbuckley evan buckley/eddie diaz || 13.3k Professional Baseball Player Eddie Diaz and Professional Football Player Evan "Buck" Buckley have been married for the past six years, not that anyone outside of their close circle of friends and family knows that. But after they're photographed together and the internet starts going wild with sleuthing and conspiracy theories about their relationship, they're forced to consider whether or not the time may be right to come out publicly.

🔥 comeback of the year || @ambernotember evan buckley/tommy kinard || 5.1k Casey distracted him with stories of baby eagles and a dispensary hostage situation while Tommy drank his whiskey and worked his way towards telling Casey what had happened with Evan.

🔥 with a little help from your (best) friend || @exhaustedpirate evan buckley/tommy kinard || 1.9k “Why aren’t you wearing pants?” (or, what happened after buck and eddie sat down the couch)

STATS: # of fics: 35 # of authors: 30 # of words read: 575k

[pinazee]

Christmas Joy

One of my favorite christmas episodes they did!

I love Joy! Shes another one i wish had come back, partly because her and shawn didn’t really put a pin in it, but mostly because Fawne was a delight and fit right in! Like her energy was cute and snarky and infectious. I can totally picture her growing up with both of them (and i wish we had seen a flashback with her in it). Joy could easily have been abigail in season 4, in the sense of completing the love triangle. I think it would’ve added an extra layer to mr yin presents too if it had been a choice between gus’ sister and juliet. Could you imagine how gus would have reacted? And the level of trust he would have to give shawn to not go with him to save her?!? Oh it hurts my heart just to think about.

Sorry, i spiraled down a hypothetical again haha heres one of my favorite bits she does

I love this scene so much! And i love that joy is in hot pursuit haha and shawn is like a split second behind her.

Im very surprised henry let shawn believe in santa, especially since he wouldn’t even let him pretend to be a superhero. My headcanon is that shawn straight up refused to hear the truth so henry figured it would be easier to keep him in check if he thought santa was judging him at the end of the year.

Girl talk! I wish they had more scenes like this. A lot of their interactions are either shawn bantering, flirting, or juliet admonishing his childishness. I love the moments when she gets to be his friend. (I suppose i should point out the part where she gets all weird that shawn mentions it might bother her if he had a thing with joy…idk im fatigued by this point. Like, great, she’s still interested. Its a fun moment. Thats all.)

Gus’ parents are chronic liars lol because weren’t they lying in the last christmas episode too? I don’t agree with them either. Joy is a grown ass woman, if she wants to date shawn she has every right too. For a minute there i thought the reason she wanted to see shawn was because it was hidden and forbidden so it was exciting, but then she said she wanted permission to pick up where they left off, so i think she genuinely likes him. It probably wouldn’t work long term since she lives out of town (state? Where was she before this??) in any case, it should have been her choice. I suppose, since she didn’t fight that hard for it, that she wasn’t that hard-pressed about it, but all the same. Also, this right here, is peak comedy to me. I laugh at this every single time. (Sidenote-yes i did pick up on the new iconic dad for Mr. Guster)

I know this is played for the haha’s, but its even funnier to me that the killer took time to get him all dressed up and propped up. Why? Why would you do that sir?

Lastly, i like the part where shawn talks to the dad about his daughter. Its another small moment of kindness from shawn. Idk, maybe part of the reason he intervenes is because she reminded him of himself when he was a kid, and how he had to grow up too quickly in certain ways. It was very nicely done

P.S why would they zoom in on this scant shrimp platter?? It was just such a weird shot lol

[modelbus]

ATTEMPT 3 AT A SHORT REQ, TAKE TWO.

Ranboo, Acting AU, Word; ‘Authentic’ (I’m really setting you up for the title ‘Authentic Acting’, huh? XD)

Filming for (disney-channel-but-better) original, “When Our Stars Collide” (The Superhero/Supervillain-Coming of age series, with two protagonists who go from: friends-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-friends, all in seven seasons!) is a lot of fun! That is, until your Co-star is having an off-day, and can’t for the life of themself throw a good fake-punch. 17 (5 minute) takes, 3 (unhelpful) breaks, an entire set of exhausted (and pissed off) film crew, and an overly dramatic, tired Y/N, had Ranboo willing to do almost anything to just finish the stupid scene, so they could all go home. (And he could buy his best friend Boba to apologise..)

So, is it really all that surprising, that Ranboo reluctantly agreed to ACTUALLY punch Y/N, per her request? Or that he accidentally punched WAY to hard? Or that she refused to break character, despite the throbbing black eye that she could feel forming?

No. No, it wasn’t.

This long ass mother fucking shit is probably the shortest request I’ve ever sent you..

But its still absurdly long. And It still took an hour. And I still finished it at 1AM.

-✨🌌🌙 NOT Anon

omg I can’t believe my eyes it’s a short request from you?! Not being able to call this “Authentic Acting” is killing me by the way…

Pairing: Cc!Ranboo x Gn!Reader

Acting AU - Authentic

“Maybe you should’ve taken those fighting classes.”

Ranboo’s head whips around to pin you with a betrayed look, his hands still curled into fists from the last take. There’s fake blood smeared over his costume, and you grin back at him, knowing your costume looks the same.

You do really love working on the set of “When Stars Collide.” Not only was working in a superhero movie your dream role, but having Ranboo as your costar was great. He was a hell of an actor, and an even better person.

Typically, filming the fight scenes was a shared favorite. You got to look badass, and pretend to actually be badass! What else could you possibly want?

But today… today just wasn’t Ranboo’s day. He’s thrown fake punches at you hundreds of times by now, but today he just seems to be struggling. Either his elbow placement is wrong, or it isn’t positioned correctly, or there isn’t enough force.

“Maybe we should take five?” One of the assistants suggests, checking their watch. It’s been over an hour (and over 17 takes) of doing this; no doubt everyone else is just as tired.

Except this would be the fourth break you guys have taken. And things are already on a tight schedule as is, any more breaks would have the crew falling behind.

“No, no I’ve got it this time, I swear.” Ranboo says, shaking his hands out. You can read the anxiety in the move easily.

“Just punch me.” You suggest, shifting you feet back into position.

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do—“

“For real, I mean.” You interrupt. “Just punch me.”

Hesitancy flickers across his face, but he doesn’t immediately shoot the idea down. He’s probably just as tired as you are.

“I can take a punch.” You add, just to help convince him.

“You’re sure?”

“Of course. C’mon, we’ve got this!”

You nod at the camera people, not giving him time to back out. Choice made, no going back.

Both of you get back into character and place, your eyes narrowing into a glare as needed in the script. He scowls back.

“Action!”

“You think you’re hot shit?” Ranboo snarls. “I can take you down with one measly punch!”

“Try it, then!” You throw your arms wide. “You’re a coward at heart, and we both know—“

His fist slams into your face.

Holy shit.

When did he get that strong? When did he learn how to actually punch? You stumble back a few steps, nearly hitting a prop. All you can feel is pain, radiating out from your eye. It’s like you can feel the bruise forming.

Concern flickers in Ranboo’s face, but you don’t give him a chance to break character. It was a perfect punch, ignoring the fact it was authentic.

You attempt a sneer, but know it looks more like a pained grimace. “Fuck you.”

“You said to punch you. Maybe you need to stop underestimating me.” He turns, cape sweeping wide behind him. “Leave me alone.”

“You’ll come back to me!” You shout, staring at him. God, your face fucking hurts.

“Not this time.”

Ranboo exits, leaving you alone on camera. You shake your head, turning away too.

“He’ll come back.” You murmur to yourself, looking down at the ground.

“Cut!”

You press a hand to your face, hissing in pain. Within seconds, Ranboo is there.

“Are you okay? Was that too hard? I think you’re bruising, I’m so sorry—“ He starts saying, hovering worriedly around you.

“‘M fine.” You say. “When did you get such a good punch?”

“I don’t know! Can I help? Should I get ice?”

You move your hand, giving him your best attempt at a grin. “If you get me ice, I’ll marry you right fucking now.”

“Right, ice. And I’ll order you food. And say sorry. A lot. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t—“ Ranboo turns on his heel, leaving to go grab ice, not letting you finish. “—apologize.” You finish, sighing.

Yeah, you’ll definitely have a black eye from this. But hey! At least you got the shot.

[romsabombs]

it's that time of the month again guys!

Malevolent part 47 The Hand live notes!!!

AMAZON AD👹 ANOTHER AD ANOTHER AD ANOTHER AD CAN WE JUST START THE EPISODE

FINALLY!!! um whats happening

are their asses still wandering aimlessly

six hours bruh 💀

a cage :/???

a what

a crime! no doubt!🤓

HAHA HE HAS THE PLAGUE i said yesterday That man probably has every disease by now

hes gonna die so bad guys hes a sick victorian child

ohhh john please carry me to the garden so i may see- um Hear the flowers one last time🤒

his sickness😟 i cant believe our actions have consequences

theyre ganging up on yorick😭

HAHA hes fine Physically me asf

"indescribable horrors" that doesnt stop john from describing every horror in immense detail

"we both have" im sorry john did you get stabbed like eight times🙄 this aint about you

💀he folded💀

HAHA so he wasnt lying damn😭 I KNEW IT blud was so ready to kill more children

john defending his comfort character

😟Sold Your Soul😟

"i offered myself to it" gayass

this speech goes so hard actually

NEW MUSIC NEW MUSIC

omg it sounds more hopeful now :((

aw he thanked arthur :)

god damn it yorick🙄

WHAT does the corpse have the hand

i mean they did pinky promise

HIS EYE 😦😦

loose enough to pry with ur fingers😨

yorick is building frankensteins monster i fear

MALEVOLENCE MENTIONED NO WAY NO WAYYYYYY NORWAY IS THIS WHY THE SHOW IS NAMED THIS

can yorick lie is that a thing😟😟😟

come on arthur you were a boyscout u can climb this easily

"the pole is wood" just like mine haha🙏🙏🙏🙏

theyre gonna start a forest fire😶

just throw something at it guys idk

omg a pin‼️ throw something at it!!

"excellent hypothesis my king🤓" "JOHN👹" "right!!🤓"

THEYRE GONNA THROW A ROCK YEAAAAA💥💥💥💥

hows he gonna throw when hes blind

why is he so good at throwing wtf

i guess we cant stay here throwing rocks for the entire episode

ALEXANDER :333

EUHGHH😟😟😟😟😟

DONT THROW ROCKS AT BIRDS THATS HOW THE HORRORS HAPPEN

maybe alexander isnt evil n hes just trying to protect us idk🤕

"i was never much for athletics" we can tell

theres gotta be a theme this season and its gotta be Children or Childhood or something

"if they could see me now" mmmm

WHAT IS THAAATT HUHHH

😨😨😨😨

WHAT IS THATTTTTTT WHAGAAT

maybe its just a freaky bird

hes so good at falling down holes

WHAT HAHA WE CANT RN😭😭

😦ERM? YORICK???????

KELLIN MENTIONED big day for gay people 🙏🙏

so was yorick always evil orrrr coz he said My King instead of john and yorick has called him john before

guys i think alexander might be the Not Evil one here

hand of malevolence would go so hard as like a window decoration

ur telling me john knew what a Hand of Malevolence was and didnt link it to the dark world

NOOO DUMBASS

ummm 😟 whats all this then

YORICK :3333 HIIII :3

what 😀

"john" :3

HAHA what is going on bruh

OMG WHAGT 😃😃😃 thats banger

"thank you i think"

:(( aw alexander IS evil :((((((

she? 🤕

OHHH IS IT LILITH IS IT LILITH PLS LILITH PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

lilith and kayne are having a custody battle over them funny as hell

OHHH she was in the portal

TEEHEE WE'RE HER FAVORITE :33

dont confront her i feel

but theyre BOTH terrible at lying🤕

they're cooked i fear

hes DYING😟😟😟😟😟😟

An Owl Being Strange

flies are insects darling

they finally appreciate yorick :)

john we dont have time for this omg

HAHA silly asf

they have a safeword now

harlan's really making us work for it like im gonna forget this if they dont point it out

the candle has been running out for hours fr

nooo :( r we approaching the ending

how do we still have like 15 minutes left

HAHA this is so funny theyre roleplaying

theyre yes-and'ing like theatre kids

i mean i bet she noticed yall were gone for a solid 15 minutes

so is the king in yellow just not a threat anymore like did we defeat him i forgot

are we in an alternate universe then

i know far too much!🤓☝️

arthur caught the decima virus i fear

STOP COUGHING im so worried

arthur needs his vaccines fr

is he gonna faint

"and if i am sick-" "you are😐"

OH the ring

hes really gonna go over there and spread his plague around 🙄

i feel like arthur wont even make it to the castle🤒

he coughs like a dad

"lean on me" maybe if you had a physical form😐

oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck

we just have to wing it i guess

its WHAT😨

what is going on man 😟

UM😦🤕

WHAAT THATS IT? wtf

[boykombat]

Syzoth - Reptile, "Needy Lover"

Description: Syzoth wasn't really used to the touch of another person. You, on the other hand, relished in physical attention. You were needy, you loved having his hands on you. But, it was his mating season, which made it much harder. The Zaterran was going crazy for your touch. He absolutely couldn't handle himself, or hold back any longer. Just your scent made him hard, who was he to not indulge himself?

tags: cream pies, grinding, double penetration, claiming, marking, cock warming.

words: 2.3K

reader is fem!

notes: in this, syzoth's human form has two dicks, as well as claws and his tail..

yeah I got real evil, I wrote this high as fuck.

🐊 Enjoy! 🐊

Touch wasn't something that the Zaterran was used to. Never used to such a needy lover, — well at least as needy as you are.

So when you sit on his lap in public, purposely grinding your ass back onto him because you just "can't wait", it's easy for him to get excited.

Always so needy for him, no matter what. Every circumstance where you could grind against his body for your own pleasure, you took.

And Syzoth loved when you did. He loved when you'd sit on his knee, your thighs spread just that tiny bit so he could feel your wetness through your panties. It made him even harder when you'd slowly "adjust yourself", grinding your needy cunt against his leg.

But his favorite thing is when you grind your wetness against his tail. Your dripping sex pressed against his already sensitive scales is enough to make him go wild for you.

Syzoth lets out a low groan, his tail laid out against his thigh. Your wet heat slowly sliding against his scales, your thighs being held open by his massive hands. Claws gently biting at your skin, threatening to scratch at your plush legs at any moment.

The Zaterran can feel your fingers sifting through his brown locks, and he can't help but shiver with delight with how your fingernails massage his scalp.

There's practically hearts in his eyes when you look back to meet his gaze. Syzoth's pretty, pink lips pulled open as quiet groans push out from his frame.

One of his hands drags from your thigh up to your hip. Syzoth begins to rock your body forward with his strength. His tail twitches, pushing up against your cunt more.

The texture of his scales is bumpy against your clit. Your arousal against the rough texture lubrates it to be a smoother ride, leaking just from grinding against him.

Syzoth can feel his cocks twitch in his pants at the site of your ass rocking back against his tail. Already rock hard, getting so much harder when he hears your desperate moans.

He's had you on his lap for an hour. Sometimes he'll hold your legs open with his powerful hands, letting the end of his tail tease your pussy. Flicking it at your clit, and he loves the wet noises it makes. How your slick arousal shines against his tail.

And that's exactly what he decides is his best course of action is in the moment.

Syzoth lifts you up, sliding his tail out from under you. In just a couple quick movements, you find yourself pinned against his body. Back firmly pressed into his chest, thighs pulled open.

Syzoth lets out a low, almost feral growl into your ear as he grinds his bulges into your ass.

Your eyes flick down, to see his tail prodding at your pussy. He can't even wait for you to take off your panties, he just slides them to the side. The very tip of his tail starts to alide between your lips. It flicks against your cunt briefly, just as his tongue starts to lap at your throat.

Its almost addicting how his forked tongue plays with your tender skin, slowly rolling it between his muscular tongue.

The way you sound drives him crazy. Needy, pretty moans fall from your lips as he slowly pushes the end of his tail into your sex. The squelching noise paired with the sensation of you clenching around him makes him let out a low groan into the back of your neck.

His cocks twitch in his pants again. Syzoth can feel the precum leaking from his tips, wanting the warmth and wetness of your pussy so badly.

"Please, I need to be inside.." He hisses against your ear. His hands grip at your thighs, pulling them open further.

As soon as you whimper out a needy "fuck yes", he moves with a haste. The tip for Syzoth's tail pushes into your slick sex, and he lets a whimper out as he slowly starts to thrust it in and out.

He lives for how your body trembles with every push and pull. Every gasp, every single whine that comes from you makes his blood feel boiling hot, some how.

Syzoth's sharp teeth press against the supple skin of your neck. A sharp breath is pulled into your body as his tongue massages your skin, his lips sealing around in a circle as the lizard starts to suckle at you.

He'd always had a thing for marking what's his, of course. There wasn't a way you were gonna make it out of his clutches without hickies and bites.

It's just how he was. Syzoth has literally fucked you using both cocks over and over just from seeing his marks against your hips and throat.

Your lover adores you even more when he can see his cum leaking from you. God, he wishes he could cum inside you all day.

He just doesn't want to hurt you, taking both of his cocks in your holes did get overstimulating pretty quickly.

Syzoth grinds himself up against your ass, his tail fucking your dripping cunt faster and faster. He can't stop the groans that leave his lips, you just feel too good against him.

You continue to push your hips back, thrusting your ass against his crotch while he's fucking you. Harder you push, the harder he marks your neck.

Syzoth's claws start to scratch at your hips as he thrusts his cocks against your ass. He can feel the precum staining his boxers, and he's not sure how much longer he can handle your warm ass on his lap.

So, he comes up with a solution. With a swift motion, he hooks his arms under your thighs. He slowly slides his tail from you, and he lifts his hips a bit.

The tip of his tail slides into his pants, and he tugs them down quickky. As he's undressing, he's sliding his tongue against your neck. He loves the way your breath hitches.

He lifts you a bit higher up, and he shimmy's out of his boxers. Syzoth has a lazy grin on his face, pressing his cheek against your shoulder as he slowly lowered you down onto his now bare lap.

The end of his tail scoops up the precum from his tips. Almost immediately, syzoth gets to work. He takes his lubricated tail, and he slowly starts to stretch your hole.

Syzoth spreads his legs a bit, pulling yours open with his. He puts a free hand on your hip as the tip of his tail slowly thrusts in and out of your hole.

Always so clingy, so he reaches around you, letting his massive forearm rest on your v-line. With skilled fingers, the Zaterran starts to fuck your pussy.

There's nothing more he loves than how wet he can get you. As he learned from stories about your ex lovers, they never got you as wet as he did.

You'd never been with an outworlder before, either. Syzoth opened you up (literally) to a whole other sexual dimension.

Did you really think you were gonna be bent over, taking two of his cocks at every chance he gets during his mating season? Or that your boyfriend would be cumming in your ass and pussy to "claim" you?

Did you even think that your future boyfriend would have two cocks? Or that he tended to be more animalistic in nature, that he'd come with a natural possessiveness? That he'd fuck you until the bed was sticky with his cum, spilling out from both of your holes after another person flirted with you in public?

Because Syzoth did, and you couldn't get enough of it.

He's so talented with his fingers. Makes sure to take his time and fuck your pussy good, hits that spot that makes your belly warm with every single push.

He could edge you for hours like this. Fingering your wet sex, slowly sliding the tip of his tail in and out of your tight ass. Pretty groans and whines fall from his lips as he grinds his cocks against you.

Syzoth stretches your holes for nearly 30 minutes, until he determines that you're ready for both of his cocks.

He lifts you up, feeling your body tremble and shake from all of the stimulation so far. You hadn't been able to cum yet, it felt like your nerves were just on fire. Your tummy felt warm, your limbs akin to jelly.

Slowly, he lowers you onto him. A cock pushing into your pussy, the other pushing into your ass. His hips push up until he's to the hilt with both of them.

If Syzoth was anything, it was huge. Two, giant cocks. He didn't look like he'd be packing, but lord he is.

The look of shock and arousal on your face when you undressed him for the first time is engraved in his mind. Or the first time you sucked his cock off, while jacking off the other. How he came all over your chest and in your mouth. Nearly suffocated with how he shoved his cock down your throat while snapping his hips against your mouth over and over.

He apologized profusely afterwards, the heat just gets the best of him at times.

Speaking of the heat, Syzoth cannot get enough of your body warmth. As someone cold blooded, he's always looking for higher temperature. It's always like heaven when you cock warm him. The way you squeeze around him, your pussy dripping with hot, sticky arousal fluid. How he uses his precum as lube to fuck your ass as he fills your pussy. He loves seeing his cum sliding down your thighs after he's ruined you.

Zysoth lets out a louder groan as he guides your hips up and down. Slowly pulling himself in and out of your holes, loving how the warmth travels with your movements.

He loves feeling your holes clench around him. It makes it so much tighter, and hotter. He loves stuff you with his cocks, rutting into you with reckless abandon.

When it comes to your heat, he isn't as patient as he is when he's doing something like eating you out. He loves the feeling and taste of your sex on his tongue, though.

Syzoth notices how you seem to only get wetter as you cock warm him, and he brings that to be an advantage.

He relaxes his back against the couch, his hands resting on your thighs. Pretty green eyes gazing up at your face as he's panting unevenly.

"Please.. I can't hold back anymore. I need to fuck you properly, please." He begs of you, his hands shaking against your body.

You nod your head yes, this was a new development. Normally Syzoth was slow and deliberate about having sex. Always teasing you and edging you for hours.

Now he's acting like an eager puppy.

Or an eager lizard.

Nonetheless, he hasn't been able to keep his hands off you. His thoughts have been racing with dirty scenarios. Syzoth has been catching himself day dreaming about drilling you in front of anyone who was romantically interested in you, showing them who you belong to. Or fucking your ass for hours, grinding your clit with the tip of his tail.

His jealousy has spiked recently, it didn't really make sense. He's literally growled at Cage, the natural flirt that the two of you both knew.

But it clicked as he starts to fuck into you faster, and harder. You've caught him touching himself in the shower, or with one of your shirts clutched in his hands while he uses his tail to jack himself off, and so much more.

That means it's his mating season, he's almost constantly horny.

He's always been careful about distancing himself during mating season so he doesn't hurt you. It seemed different this time.

Syzoth speeds up, moaning right into your ear. The sound of wet skin against wet skin occupies the space between you.

Then you feel it. The burn deep in your gut, white hot jolts running through your body. Your back arches against Syzoth's chest, your fingers gripping his biceps as you start to squirt.

He doesn't dare to stop fucking you during your orgasm. Syzoth pounds your holes relentlessly, his tail thrashing around as he gets closer and closer. He tilts you forward a bit, and stops lifting you up and down. Instead, he brutally thrusts up into you. Hitting that good spot in both places with the same rhythm.

You can feel a bit of his cum inside of you already. Strong arms shake as he keeps you upright.

"Please, let me cum inside of you. I need you to be mine." He whimpers into your ear.

As you're nearly about to finish again just from his rough pleasure, you nod your head yes.

That's all the confirmation he needs, and Syzoth pumps you full of his thick, almost syrupy white cum. His tongue flicks out as his eyes roll backwards in his skull.

Roughly, he fucks you through until he eventually pushes your hips down onto him, really just to milk his cock as you squeeze yourself around him for the second time.

The way you push yourself back onto him only makes it better. How your fingernails scratch at his skin while he cums deep inside of you.

He wraps his arms around your middle, pressing his cheek against the middle of your shoulder blades.

The lizard breathes in your scent. The smell of sex against your skin, the sweat and your perfume mixing is an intoxicating concoction to him.

You feel him harden inside of you just from your scent. Syzoth's cum is dripping from you, you've both made a mess.

You're sweaty, happy, and filled to the brim. You couldn't think of a world where this wasn't perfect for you.

Slowly, he starts to thrust his cocks inside of you again. The mess from the last round only making the wet sound louder. It makes you more slick as you grow to be looser. And he loves it.

It's his mating season, do you really think he's gonna be done after you've cum only twice?

[kmomof4]

12 (Actually 13) Days of Captain Swan Fic Recs!!!

On this Day 3 of my 12 (Actually 13) Days of CS Fic Recs, I'm reccing @jrob64!!!

Joni is one of my dearest friends and we've been friends ever since I apparently appeared in her DM yelling at her for something she did in the fic she was posting at the time, Devastation and Healing. I do not remember this initial introduction, but she swears it's true and since she doesn't lie, I guess I have to affirm its veracity... But again, I don't remember it, so she might be exaggerating... just a bit... Anyhoo, on to my favorites of her fics...

First and foremost, has to be the Girls Trip Fics that we've co-written the last two years with our traveling buddies @whimsicallyenchantedrose and @snowbellewells. All of the fics in that collection have been SO MUCH FUN to write together including ALL our favorite couples from the show, as well as some that are just our personal head canons! The two main fics in the collection were inspired by our own Girls' Trips we've taken the last two years.

And now on to my other favorites of Joni's fics!!

Where Her Heart Belongs - Rated T - This fic was written for CSSNS22 and turned into something completely different than what Joni planned. And then, for my bday that year, she wrote a sequel - Her Heart's Home - which is the same story, but this time told from Killian's POV and rated M. Canon divergent for the missing year.

Rescuing the Princess - Rated T - Twenty-eight years after Princess Emma of Misthaven is kidnapped by the Evil Queen, Pirate Captain Killian Jones attempts to rescue her in order to earn the substantial reward offered by her royal parents. A CS Fairytale Mash-up AU featuring Beauty and the Beast, Sleeping Beauty & Tangled, with a sprinkling of The Princess Bride thrown in for good measure

Sowing Seeds of Trust - Rated M - Emma Swan is a young woman without a family, friends, a home, and now a boyfriend after he tries to pin his crime on her. When she goes looking for help from a local charity at a church, she ends up meeting a group of people, including a handsome blue-eyed man, who offer her friendship...and a whole lot more.

I Loved You First - Rated G - Written for my birthday last year, this fic features my second favorite relationship on the show, Charming Swan.

Emma and her father share some special sentiments with each other before he walks her down the aisle to marry her True Love. A canon compliant missing moment for 6X20, just prior to Emma and Killian's wedding.

Silly Songs with Killian - Rated T - After a frustrating and exhausting day, Emma Cassidy is relieved when her little boy, Henry, is entertained by a gorgeous musician at a restaurant, giving her a chance to sit back, relax, and enjoy the music (and the view!) It gets even better when the singer, Killian, sings some of Henry’s favorite Silly Songs from his favorite videos, Veggie Tales.

Currently posting for this years' birthday, Exacting His Revenge - Rated M - When Hook sees an opportunity to finally get his revenge on Rumplestiltskin, he seizes it, putting him in the company of Emma Swan. A season 2 canon divergent story.

This was soooo hard, y'all! I really could have added several more of her fics to this list, but I had to keep the post to a readable length... I hope you enjoy these!!! See you tomorrow for Day 4!!!

[meta-squash]

@callivich came up with this idea of doing DVD commentary for fic on @shamelessdvdcommentary, which I think is brilliant because I love reading the thoughts and creative process of other fic writers, so I want to try!

The Needle And The Burning Body Summary: They're supposed to be running away together. Ian hates whatever fucking nurture-over-nature compass Fiona somehow instilled in him that means the one thing he's running back to is never the thing he wants to want. That Mickey's love makes him want to run away as fast as he can because this thing, this solid thing is so much. And he's already so much on his own. Mickey had two burning torches for hands but he knew what to do with them. Ian's head was on fire and all he knew was how to run and keep running. How to find a cliff and jump off. How to make Mickey chase after him, again and again. And in a cold cell in prison, Mickey catches him.

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc) I wrote it in winter of 2018. I switched laptops around that time so I don't have the metadata for exactly when I made the doc/how long it took, but I remember bashing it out fairly quickly. I tend to get a flash of inspiration and then bang out fics in a couple of sittings. This one is a one-shot, 10,623 words.

What was the initial inspiration for your story? I wanted to explore Ian's POV, why he went all the way down to Mexico with Mickey and what made him turn around and go back. I had this idea that the way Ian grew up, so dependent on his family, put a compass inside him that always pointed back to them, even when he'd rather it point somewhere else. And that metaphor just took on a life of its own.

If the story is written from a character’s POV, why did you choose this character? Ian is so WEIRD and hard to pin down and I wanted to try. Part of it is the Shameless writers' bad writing, but I think Ian also goes through such drastic and traumatic experiences that he has no control over, and it really messes with the way he acts. A lot of what happens to him has less to do with his choices or actions and more to do with either his mental illness or just circumstances. Plus he's actually the quietest of all the Gallaghers, which is kind of crazy. I wanted to try and explore why Ian is so often contradictory or weird. I also really wanted to explore his confusion and insecurities that he doesn't voice.

What was your favourite scene to write? The moment where Ian is sitting in the prison cell waiting for Mickey to get back and thinking about their past. I came up with imagery of Ian jumping off of a series of cliffs with Mickey chasing him to try and catch him at the bottom completely in the moment of writing, and it's one of my favorite things.

How did you come up with the title? I'm terrible with titles, I usually end up using song lyrics or a bizarre jumble of words, but this one is so straightforward. Ian gets the needle metaphor in this fic, and Mickey's metaphor is being a constant burning. So it fit.

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice? I have a line in there, "Ian was better at finding whole things that weren't his and clinging to them. Mickey could make wholes from the smallest of pieces." I think it's a way of looking at their relationship that really explains well why it was the way it was pre-season 9.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this? The smut. I don't tend to write smut because I either find it unsexy when it's not done well or when things logically would be uncomfortable/physically impossible/unhealthy in a not-even-sexy-in-the-moment way. If I write smut I like it to be poetic and for it to mean something in terms of moving plot along. I tried to make it both sexy and poetic, and tried my best to infuse every action with emotion and also intent. A bit like the advice my drama teacher gave us in high school: a character should not move from point a to point b for no reason. If you want to go to a different spot, you have to have some sort of reason or motive or intent. In this case, it's more about sex than walking, but it fits. I think I did pretty good in this one, but I think the smut I wrote in my other fic Proof Of What You Want was better.

Favourite line in the story? Well, it's more of a paragraph: It had all felt so far away when he'd asked, foggy and dull, ready to push. You gonna want to be with me even if I don't? Everything far away. Watching everyone for betrayal the way Monica taught him. So Mickey's sigh had no written all over it, and that no meant reading all the other signs wrong. But when you think you've lost everything except an identity you never wanted to have in the first place, you're bound to misread things. Really, the sigh was the same Mickey always seemed to breathe into his mouth. The same way he'd mutter jesus fucking christ like he was so annoyed even though he wasn't, and then he'd hold on and jump after him.

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story? A lot of times I start a story in the middle and work outward, or start with whatever scenes popped into my brain first and work to connect them. I think this was one fic I actually wrote linearly from start to finish. I always intended the first half to be the ride to Mexico and the second half to be Ian and Mickey in prison together. But the metaphors and imagery I used really solidified as I was writing it. I had Ian's compass needle from the start, but Mickey as a pair of burning hands didn't come until later, and a lot of the other imagery just developed as I was writing. I didn't know I was going to have the two of them sit down and have an actual Talk about their relationship, and I'm glad I had Mickey basically saying like, 'I love you and I still want to be with you, but things are still fucked up and we gotta work on them.'

If you are writing a particular trope or genre, was it your first time writing this? This was my first time writing solely Ian's POV (as opposed to an omniscient POV or Mickey's), but it's not a specific trope or genre.

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterisation, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc) The metaphors! I'm sooooo happy they worked the way I wanted them to and came together so well and I'm soooooo proud of the last paragraph of the fic, which literally gave me chills as I wrote it.

Are there any deleted scenes that didn’t make it to the final story? No, but I tend to do the opposite. I post the fic and then reread it once it's already posted and add to it. So I'm fairly certain there are at least a few sentences if not a whole paragraph in the fic on AO3 that doesn't exist in my original doc.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share - e.g. what’s going on in a characters head in a certain scene or how you came to write a certain line? The one I quoted above as my favorite line came about because I always felt like Mickey's reaction to Ian's questions in the breakup scene aren't a rejection at all or even disappointment or whatever. It felt to me like that sigh and Mickey's body language were more in line with his actions in 5x09 with the b vitamins and stuff. Like he realizes that he'd rather have Ian in whatever way and he'll be there for him, whether he's on his meds or not. It's not a sigh of "no I don't want to be with you", it's a sigh of "I'd rather it was some other way, but I'm not going anywhere." And I wanted to have Ian realizing that, and realizing that he'd interpreted Mickey's actions in the context of his siblings' actions, but Mickey's motivations and feelings are totally different from the Gallagher siblings. He doesn't have the context of growing up with Monica and he's willing to stick beside Ian, manic or not.

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add? I don't think so. I actually frequently read back stories in the months after posting them and add bits and bobs. There's a oneshot fic I have in a different fandom that I wrote in 2015 and have been adding to ever since as inspiration strikes. So I tend to just add things if I decide something should be added. This fic in particular came out pretty much complete, though.

Would you ever write a sequel to this story? I don't think so. Especially considering where canon went with the storyline of them in prison and their relationship in general.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc? Not in this one. Mostly because it's the only fic I've written solely in Ian's POV. And all the easter eggs I use for Shameless fics are for Mickey's POV, so I couldn't easily slot them in here.

If you’ve chosen your most popular story, are you surprised by the popularity? This was my most popular story for a long time, and I'm not at all surprised. It's the one I'm probably the most proud of in terms of all the imagery and also the denouement.

Were you nervous or excited to post this story? Oh, excited, definitely. All the other Shameless fics I'd written before this one were shorter and more straightforward, less poetic. This was the one that felt the most artistic and that I felt really inspired the whole time I was writing it.

(This was really fun, I might do this with my other Shameless fics! Thank you so much for the idea @callivich!)

[knightzp]

5,6,10,17 ritsu!!

5. out of all your fanworks that include ritsu, which is your favourite?

uuu its probably the forgotten lyre i worked so hard and so long on that fic and im very happy with the final result !! honorable mention to every season is full of memories of you with me, it was very very fun writing that one and i consider it one of my best ritsumao fics, i really peaked there

6. show us a bit of a WIP!

this is from the ace rtmo fic im currently writing :3

But now, Mao realized it was something Ritsu may have been waiting for. Something he may have wanted all along. Something he was expecting of his relationship with Mao. And that sudden realization was threatening to break everything between them in a single moment. Even if Ritsu had had his feelings for Mao clear for many years already, it took Mao longer than it should have to understand the true meaning behind his constant ‘I love you’s, and even more time to realize his own feelings towards his childhood friend. It had taken long, so long, but Mao finally, finally understood. He now knew what he wanted and what Ritsu wanted, and they started their relationship, in which honestly not much changed besides the name of it. But just knowing it already changed a lot of things, and Mao thought it was good, and he was happy thinking they were already at the point they both wanted. Except, it appeared that wasn’t the case. And it hurt. It hurt a lot.

10. what's your favorite piece of fanart of ritsu?

how am i supposed to choose just one ive seen so many incredible ritsu fanarts during all this time !!!! tia you know your ritsus give me life and if i have to choose one of your pieces i love having your valensemble gift from last year pinned on my blog and seeing it every time i log in here <333 also shout out to my other artist mutuals too im always jumping up and down every time i see you guys draw my silly ^_^

17. what’s a book, movie, or show you think ritsu would like?

man this one is hard..... not exactly the answer but i think what he enjoys the most is watching maos favorite shows together with him. i can see them watching hxh together (maos favorite anime i just know it) and i think ritsu would quite enjoy it too, especially the darker arcs like caa or yorknew <3

[jaaankiey]

leafpin headcanons, go.

ME WHEN... WHEN ANYBODY TELLS ME TO TALK ABOUT LEAFPIN !!!111!!!!!111111

jus a reminder that how i hc leafy and pin strays faaar from canon (i feel like a lot of ppl that come to this blog are already aware of that but i do be stressing this b/c i don't want to blindside people 💔)

sorry they are like my angry little meow meows, your honor

but CIRCLING back to the actual question here we go, the sheer LIST of headcanons that exist in my mind forever:

i mentioned it like numerous times but the height difference,,, leafy is tall while pin is short

related 2 above headcanon, but this means leafy is much faster than pin (because longer legs means longer strides). leafy often lets pin piggyback on her so they can get to places faster. a lot of other objects tend to also be taller than pin so leafy will like give her a bit of a boost there too.

leafy has a long mental list of silly pet names to call pin. not all of them make a lick of sense, but as stupid as these names get, pin just really enjoys them.

pin doesn't really use pet names for leafy other than leafster.

leafy goes through phases of interests on really random things. i had a silly oneshot planned where she gets super into horses and how silly they are as animals. typically, pin does her best to provide her girlfriend a lot of enrichment in these times even if that means sitting and listening to leafy's hourlong lecture about horse coat colors.

pin definitely has a hard time expressing or communicating her emotions because she is constantly set on "resting bitch face" mode. leafy always helps her put a name to what she's feeling.

they're big cuddlers. they always wake up in each other's arms (real)

speaking of sleeping, leafy takes all the blankets for herself because she gets cold easier. pin gets hot too easy so shes ok with it

leafy is literally the only one pin listens to wholeheartedly. to others, pin often just dismisses them or zones out entirely.

pin lets leafy win at tic-tac-toe as well as other games

in terms of their temperaments, leafy is much slower to anger compared to pin. this allows leafy to pacify pin whenever its needed

leafy is the only one able to read pin's absolutely HORRID handwriting

leafy is good at artsy stuff. pin isn't except for cartography stuff.

winter is a tough time for them. it's pin's favorite season because she can handle the cold easily, but its dampened by the fact that leafy goes through hibernation. it always turns out ok and she does it because there's not enough sun for her to be awake, but it REALLY stresses pin out. she's extra overprotective over her plant gf during this time.

pin comforts leafy when she's upset. she does it with lots of snuggles, compliments, and little treats to snack on. when leafy feels better, pin proceeds to beat up whoever made her sad in the first place.

pin has a bad habit of forgetting her own well-being. she WILL give up life and limb if it means leafy will be safe in the end. this affects all aspects of her life and leafy often has to sit her down so she can rest. this is especially very important whenever pin is injured or sick b/c she will absolutely not give herself enough time to heal.

leafy doesn't feel safe sleeping alone, she has to be next to pin or else she'll have some major sleeping troubles.

they just LOVE to gossip with each other. think the plastics in Mean Girls with their burn book. yeah, that, but only between them.

i could go on but i think the list is too embarrassingly long now 💔i hope u enjoyed these anon

[maagi3]

Hazbin Hotel and Merchandise

I'm going to write my thoughts out here because I'm wordy and it's easier to do this than make it a thread on Bluesky.

So, we just got the Valentine's Day merch drop for Hazbin Hotel, and to say it was kind of disappointing would be an understatement. Don't get me wrong, I'm sure the merchandise team(s) work hard to get stuff out there for people, but as a Hazbin Hotel fan it's difficult to not compare our drops to that of Helluva Boss' over on Sharkrobot. I've been around for long enough to remember when Hazbin was also featured there, and every holiday or drop was exciting because of the sheer number of options provided. Pins, standees, even stickers among all the shirts and caps and other clothing items I long since stopped buying because my closet is only so big, it felt like there was more variety back then.

With how merch is handled with Hazbin now, it feels like the same characters get all the focus, and the rest are pushed to the side. For as much as I love them, Chaggie is featured very frequently, in every holiday and the stuff that drops in Hot Topic. They're the main characters, and the main couple, and this was a Valentine's Day drop so I understand all of that. Fine, but they are still around a lot.

The bigger issue, and I know if anyone bothers to read this that I will catch hate for this, is Alastor. And it isn't even a now issue -- Alastor has been in nearly every merch drop since Hazbin started doing merch. Whether it's pins, charms, apparel, standees, puzzles, the list goes on, Alastor is everywhere. And now I get it, you make the most for the characters that sell the most. But the favoritism is also becoming exhausting when other characters have gotten virtually nothing. This isn't me throwing a fit because my favorite character has gotten nothing save for an 'okay' shirt, this is me being tired of a character who has been treated better than any other character in the franchise for over half a decade.

There's also the response to the disappointment of fans. This happened before, too, with Cherri and the lack of merch she got in the old Sharkrobot days. When people voiced their disdain for the lack of attention and inclusion of her, the merch team clapped back and tried to point out that she "got plenty." When they were pointed out as being wrong, they doubled down and just made the standard promise of she'd be in a future drop, for reals. That feels like a repeat now, with people pointing out that major players in Season 1 such as Adam, and even Angel these days, are being kept out of drops. A promise of future Adam merch is nice, but that doesn't change the fact that people are allowed to be disappointed now because Hazbin's golden boy has to be in every single freaking event, Heaven forbid Alastor sit out once in anything.

I understand this comes across as petulant, or being a crybaby, but it does feel bad as a Hazbin fan to see the sheer volume of merch that Helluva fans get. When freaking Emerblynn gets something for Valentine's Day but I can't get something of Adam or Lute or Emily or really anyone that is not the 'money-makers' of Hazbin, that feels bad. It feels like we lost more than we gained with Hazbin going mainstream and ending up with its own online store and a rack at Hot Topic. I wish we could have stayed on Sharkrobot, I wish I could look forward to standees and pins and puzzles and (admittedly not great quality) apparel of more than just Alastor, Lucifer, Chaggie, and the Vee's. I want to see the news that Hazbin has merch coming and not already expect disappointment because Alastor is going to get at least one if not two things, and the sparse other merch items will be whatever combination of the other characters mentioned above.

I'm envious, I'm grumpy, and I'm just going to turn my attention to writing fanfics of these characters that the Hazbin merch team seem to forget exist.

[criffyzou]

My dragon age next gen kids moodboard were only humans and dwarves, so I started a new elfy one, and decided to document my process.

Here is the resulting rambling.

First thing I usually do is find stand-ins for the parents, to have *something* to start from. They usually don't appear on the moodboard itself, but I love to do that step.

I'm pinning these two deviantartists as Cammen & Gheyna, teens from the DAO dalish camp that the warden help get together (them but older & as parents). This is to keep to my theme of "kids that exist or survive thanks to the heroes of Thedas".

It's then time to pick a name. It can be a lore thing, i.e. Ailis Theirin is named after a chantry sister from Maric and Loghain's fereldan rebellion days, who raised Cailan and, I choose to believe, Anora too, once Loghain started bringing her to work. It can also be completely unrelated: I wanted an old french name for Pernille de Chalons, but as a french person myself, all of it sounded cringey; in the end her name is from the karpe song Au Pair. It sounds orlesian enough but is not actually french.

I'm not good at elven names in Dragon Age, my Lavellan inquisitor is named Sheana because I was being a Dune nerd when I learned there was a Siona among the emerald knights (iykyk). The reward for the quest Cammen's Lament is The Tale of Iloren and its corresponding codex, a book cherished by Cammen's family for generations. I like Iloren; it's technically a male keeper in the tale, but the name feels gender neutral, and I want that kid to be a girl.

Cammen & Gheyna get married in 9:30, but they're so young their first child doesn't have to be born for a number of years. By my referent point 9:52, I want her to still be a teen, around the same age as her parents when we meet them in Origins ? I don't actually know how old Cammen and Gheyna are. I also want Lena (born in 9:37) to still be the baby of the band; let's go with 9:35.

Now, class ! I really want a dalish warrior, but there aren't many interesting warrior specializations. Spirit Warrior is my favorite of what's left, and my favorite warrior spec overall, so it's perfect.

Identity down, now to the moodboard specifics !

I like to follow the old lavellanpls template because it forces me to think about the character in details I would not have thought of.

Complexion is a square I use for faceclaims. Both Iloren's parents are white, like a lot of Dragon Age NPCs; I've not had a lot of wriggle room for non-white next gen kids outside of Zerlinda's son, whose dad is not shown, and Kieran, both Morrigan and Alistair being biracial even if Bioware doesn't show it. I don't really brainstorm for that one, I simply look at a lot of pictures until something clicks.

Wardrobe has a few armor options from my initial generic dalish pin rampage, that I may choose from when I have a better idea of the dominant color. My main issue is the lack of consistency in dalish heavy armor, and how hard it is to find a real life equivalent.

Hair can be Gheyna's red, Cammen's ash blond, or a mix of the two, but I have too many redheads already.

Now is the time I start to lie invent rather than extrapolate. I want this elven kid to be strongly attached to her dalish way of life, à la Velana, because we have enough self-loathing elves in canon. That could Home accounted for then, something representing the dalish camp, or the nearby Brecilian ruins.

Obviously I cannot resist the Animal square for a dalish from that clan, born after the werewolf conflict, to be a wolf despite how on the nose it is. I like when things are predictable.

Iloren has to be an extravert, if not because she was raised in a commune, then because we have more introverts in the current next gen lineup and I like balance. E and J feel right, let's try ENFJ. Yes this is relevant, as I use either the Season or Element squares as clues for the character's personality. Season I will probably put Brecilian forest in its winter dreariness, so let's focus on element: First one I can think of is ironbark, "surprisingly strong and very light". It is also somewhat blue in color; that is our first official color of the moodboard !

Accessory square I often put down as a weapon, as that seems the most logical option for a prized possession. It could also be something sentimental from games lore, like Tini Kondrat's toy horse, like the one the warden gave Oghren as a joke, that he may have repurposed as an actual toy for his child. My best example of a Spirit Warrior is actually Fenris, who uses two handed weapons; however my only weapon idea is the Sulevin Blade from Inquisition, but it is not a weapon Iloren would have access to. Let's instead use the book Cammen gives as a reward.

Last square unaccounted for is Texture, which is usually my "make the moodboard actually cohesive" free card, while keeping it relevant to the character, adding personality or background hints I could not fit into the rest. Something Spirit Warrior-y, as it's been missing so far, like maybe their weird brand of fade cloak.

Aaaand we're done ! A brand new complete character, spun whole cloth from a vague desire to have an elf in the lineup.

[shigayokagayama]

Uh Oh I Thought About The Music In The Finale Too Hard And It Started Bothering Me Again

ok so aside from one of my favorite scenes in the entirety of mob psycho getting cut from the last episode, a decision which will haunt and torment me until my dying days, my biggest issue with the last episode was always the music and i think ive been able to finally pin down a coherent explanation as to why

disclaimer: i am not a music expert. i was in choir in middle school and i like listening to people who actually know about music talk about music, but this is not a professional opinion so take it with a grain of salt

so first, 99 playing during reigen running towards mob. my problem with this is less the song choice and more that the anime decided to completely change the tone of the entire scene. like, 99 works perfectly for the hype exciting scene they were trying to create! i just dont think this scene should have been hype and exciting. this isn’t a “music is tonally inconsistent” problem so much as a “tone is inconsistent with events unfolding” problem so im not going to put much focus on it.

what IS tonally inconsistent though is the next track that plays after it (timestamped)

this scene is supposed to be not just the reveal that reigen is okay but the reveal that dimple, a character who we’ve spent the last six episode thinking was dead, is alive! and the music they chose is so... sinister??? wouldn’t something more triumphant or energetic fit here??? i get that it has to segway into a really emotional song next so it can’t be too upbeat but wouldnt something like this maybe fit better??? it’s another song associated with dimple possessing someone who isn’t especially powerful to let them achieve something they normally wouldn’t, it’s pretty dramatic, it’s exciting, it has kind of an emotional through line in the back of it with the violins???

the next song is perfect. no notes. the second i heard it in the mob character trailer before season 3 dropped i was like “oh theyre going to use that for reigen’s confession” and i was 100% right. in fact, this song being so perfect for this scene is what makes the next song choice so confusing.

huh? what? why???? on the elementary school level of “well this is labelled mob’s theme and this is mob’s moment of self acceptance so it has to go here” i can maybe understand but it is the most jarring tonal whiplash i have ever felt watching a television show. this is music that we normally here when mob is fighting an enemy, this is supposed to gear us up for conflict. it does not fit the bittersweet catharsis of mob accepting his whole self at all.

ive seen two different edits with different soundtracks i prefer, one with “Passing my heart, I'm getting bigger” (at least im pretty sure thats what its called?  すれ違う心・大きくなったなぁ?) and one with “Mob’s Kindness”. personally, i feel like mob’s kindness would be the best option. for one, one of them already played at an emotionally climactic moment during the final episode last season so it might be a bit weird to do it a second time. second, for when we last heard “mob’s kindness” it actually fits really well with this scene on a couple different levels.

just the title of the song on its own fits with the scene. it’s the first time mob really extends kindness towards himself rather than trying to repress it or smother it in guilt and self loathing. we also have to consider the last place it was used and how that echos this scene. the first time we hear mob’s kindness is in season 2 episode 1, following the line “i made the decision to consider my feelings more”, a line which fits really well with what the “100% shigeo kageyama” moment is trying to get across. “shigeo kageyama” is mob’s repressed power and, more relevantly, his repressed emotions that he’s been bottling up for years now. “mob” flaking apart and forming “shigeo” also kind of visually echos emi’s novel getting ripped apart and brought together again by mob’s power, so that’s another little mirror between these two scenes. mob putting emi’s novel back together is the first time we see him using his powers for another person, not to save them from any sort of threat, but just as an act of simple kindness. it’s the beginning of a realization he has during the mogami arc, these powers arent just a burden, he can use them to help people. and he doesn’t even need to limit it to that, he can just use them to express himself and have fun because they aren’t just tools that can be used, they’re a part of him.