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megalony · 8 months ago

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Extinguishing Flames

It's been a while, but here is a new Charles Xavier imagine for you all, thank you to anon who requested this and I'm sorry it took me so long to get round to. I hope you will all like it.

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Summary: (Y/n) doesn't like the snow, it dampens her pyrokinetic powers and reminds her that not everyone likes her mutation. Charles strives to show her she's safe with them; with the X-men.

Enjoy.

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With her arms bound around her chest, (Y/n) leaned her head against the window, feeling a shiver pass down her spine at the cold seeping through her skin from the glass. Her fingers grazed up and down her arms while her tired eyes looked out into the night.

Her feet began to tap against the wall and her knees pulled up towards her stomach, curving her form into a cramped shape to fit in the window seat that now accomodated her.

It was snowing.

She hated the cold; especially snow.

Her arms tightened around her chest, hugging herself as if she were cold, but she wasn't. It took a great deal of effort for (Y/n) to get cold. Her eyes locked on the scene ahead of her that should have made her smile and warmed her heart, but all it did was make icicles stab at her chest.

Raven, Hank and Alex were messing about in the snow. It made them look like young school children rather than adults, and it should have been endearing. Seeing them throwing snowballs, jumping into the snow and stomping their footprints into the fresh powder should have been a lovely sight.

Watching them made envy swell in (Y/n)'s heart. She could never find it in herself to smile whenever the weather began to snow. It felt like she was being taunted.

"Not joining the fun?"

She didn't tear her eyes away from the window at the sound of Erik's voice. She didn't have to look to know it was him who had walked into the drawing room and she could feel his presence when he stood close beside her.

His reflection was visible in the window. A thick jumper with a high turtle neck that reached his chin. Thick woollen trousers to keep out the cold and his hands stuffed into his pockets. Hair swept back in his usual fashion and one brow arched in an almost cynical manner.

"Wouldn't be much fun if I joined." Unravelling one hand from the hug she was giving herself, (Y/n) held her hand out in Erik's direction without looking at him.

Her fingers curled up and creased her palm like she was holding an invisible cup and when her fingers began moving back and forth, a spark appeared. Flickering strikes of amber and burnt gold ignited in her palm until flames were circling around her hand and dancing in the warm air.

In an instant, (Y/n) curled her fingers into her palm, crushing the flames until tendrils of smoke drifted through her fingers and the flames were extinguished.

It wouldn't make for much fun if (Y/n) went out to join the rest of the team. Their fun wouldn't last if (Y/n) tried to pick up the snow and watched it melt into water that ran between her fingers and dribbled down her arms. Her footprints would melt into sunken puddles. The snow would become feeble and delinquent beneath her body heat. The natural heat she gave off from being pyrokinetic would ruin their winter fun.

Staying inside was easier than going out and ruining the games they were trying to play. They were looking for fun, for an escape from the pressures their team faced by trying to change the world's view on them. (Y/n) wouldn't be much fun.

"Oh I don't know. I'd want you on my team in a snowball fight." Erik nudged his elbow into her arm before he stalked over to sit in the arm chair in front of the fire.

It would be interesting to have a snowball fight against an opponent who could melt the snow before it hit them.

(Y/n) turned her head away from the window and looked towards Erik. He was sat in a manner that looked regal. Back straight in the tall chair, one leg crossed over the other, a book in his hand, seemingly procured out of nowhere.

She noticed his leg jittering up and down out of habit and when she looked towards the fireplace, she noticed it was void. Maybe he was cold. It was hard for (Y/n) to determine the room temperature when she was always perfectly toasty. She could walk out into the cold and feel nothing from the natural heat she produced.

Maybe the air was cold in here, maybe the whole mansion was freezing and (Y/n) didn't know it.

She dropped her legs down from the window seat and pushed up so she was sitting properly rather than slouching down. Her feet tapped and danced against the floor while she stretched her hand out and waited for the flames to spark and grow in her palm.

Once the flames were growing and twinkling like a ballerina gliding in the air, (Y/n) leaned forward with her arm outstretched. She carefully blew into the flame and pointed her index finger in the direction of the empty fire. Within seconds, the flames were dancing across the coals and a roaring fire was crackling and simmering in the hearth.

She felt a sense of calmness overwhelming her when she watched Erik's lips form into a grin without him breaking his eyes away from the book he was engrossed in.

At least he and Charles were amused by her powers. Other than the mutants here at the mansion, (Y/n) had never found anyone like her before. She never knew other mutants existed. She never found people like her who thought her powers were anything but a hindrance or a threat.

Her head snapped to the right and a shudder tore through her body when a resounding thud echoed through the room and made the window panes tremble.

A snowball.

A large wad of snow had smashed into the window like an explosion. Crystals of snow were sprinkled across the window like a splattered egg and they looked cemented on. It was cold enough that the snow didn't melt or slide down the glass at all.

When (Y/n) peered through the gaps, she could see Raven trying to wave at her, and Alex jumping up and down, motioning his hands. It was hard to determine whether they were ushering her to join them or simply making fun of her. She didn't want to find out which it was.

Without thinking, she pressed her palm against the middle window pane, tapping her fingers idly against the glass while the snow began to melt. It continued until the flakes lost their shape and melted into droplets that ran down onto the windowsil.

She kept her hand there until the last droplets began to twist and evaporate into steam that swirled in large puffs around the window. Her hand tremored and she quickly ripped her palm from the glass when it began to mesh and become a bright shade of red and orange as her palm glowed and hissed. Any longer and her palm would have fused with the glass that had heated enough to start to melt.

They weren't smiling anymore. The three of them were watching the window with raised brows until (Y/n) got up and silently left the drawing room, leaving Erik to his book in solace.

With her arms bound around her waist, (Y/n) trailed out of the room and down the hall. She wasn't sure where she was going until she found herself in the kitchen.

It felt like she was on autopilot as she poured a cup of milk and cradled the cup between her hands until steam started to waft up towards her nose. Her head tilted to one side and she set her cup down when she looked towards the back door. It was open. No wonder Erik had been chilly if the rest of them had left the door open ajar in this weather.

The brisk chill from outside hit (Y/n) like a train when she went to close the door and she found herself peering outside.

She couldn't stop herself from nudging her foot over the threshold, just to test the boundaries. Her bare foot scraped against the snow that started to form a puddle around her limb the moment she touched the snow. (Y/n) had never been able to hold snow in her hands before. It melted instantly. She couldn't admire the unique flakes and their twisting formations before they were back to basic liquid form.

The cold seeped into her skin that barely bristled or formed goosebumps at the change in temperature. But the longer she kept her foot there, surrounded by melting snow and a large formation of water, the more (Y/n) started to feel uneasy.

She could sense the memories plaguing the back of her mind, trying their best to come forward and take her back to the past.

"Should I ask what you're doing?"

The soft tone of Charles's voice brought (Y/n) back to the present and made her look over her shoulder. He was stood near the kitchen counter, one hip slouched against the island with both hands tucked into his pockets. He had a few unruly curls falling out of formation.

The creases around his eyes and the soft quirk of his lips made adrenaline pool in (Y/n)'s stomach. She found herself trying to smile before she realised she still had one foot over the threshold. Quickly her foot retracted back inside and she shut the door, making sure not to lock it so everyone could come back inside when they were finished freezing half to death.

"Looking at the weather." (Y/n) didn't want to say admiring the weather, because they both knew that would be a lie. She couldn't admire something she detested.

When he held his hand out towards her, (Y/n) dipped her head to hide her smile and moved in his direction. She let him take her hand and reel her into his side and her heart glowed brighter than the fire she created in her palms when he moved their entwined hands. He looped them up so his arm was over the back of her shoulders and neck with their hands on her shoulder, allowing (Y/n) to be tucked up under his arm.

His lips attached to the side of her head and he closed his eyes, tipping his forehead against her hair.

Charles loved the heat that always radiated off of her, especially in this weather. Who needed heating when (Y/n) was nearby?

He turned them around and once (Y/n) grabbed her drink, he guided them out the kitchen.

He knew exactly what this kind of weather did to (Y/n) and he didn't want her to panic or slip back into the past. While it was snowing outside, they could be doing so many other things in here to distract from the bad weather.

Charles would never delve into (Y/n)'s mind, he was reserved about poking about in her head even when she asked him to. He had spent the majority of his life learning how to control his mutation and prevent himself from slipping into the minds of others because he knew it was intrusive, even if he couldn't always help it.

But he didn't have to dive into (Y/n)'s mind to know that the snow was bringing back bad memories, and he knew exactly which one this weather made her think of. He knew that uneasy expression on her face was because of what she had been through, and he would do anything he could to erase those memories and help her move forward.

"Come on, love." He murmured softly against the side of her head while he guided her out into the hall.

(Y/n) let her head fall onto Charles's shoulder and she wound her right arm around his torso to glue herself against him. It might be snowing outside, but being tucked up against him like this made her feel warmer than ever. And it started to melt the memories away just like the snow at the back door.

***

Closing her eyes, (Y/n) tilted her head back until her head was laid on Charles's shoulder. She twisted to press her forehead into his damp neck while she felt his hands grazing up and down her waist.

Her left hand moved down to hold onto his wrist while her right hand hovered just above the water where her finger was slowly swirling just beneath the surface. Creating ripples and waves stretching out towards the other side of the tub.

There wasn't a lot of space in the bath for both of them, but they managed without being squeezed too tightly together. Every now and then, (Y/n) moved her knees to nudge against Charles's knees.

She was sure he was smiling as he leaned his cheek against the top of her head.

Hopefully the rest of the team didn't notice that they had wandered off, or thought to come looking for them. They had drifted away from everyone else who had wandered around the mansion after beginning training. Erik was presumably still trying to help Alex with his aim. Raven would be training alone, she knew her limits and how to improve them. And Hank was coming up with some remedies in the makeshift lab.

Charles glanced his eyes down when he realised the water was starting to get warmer. He watched, fascination in his eyes as waves of steam drifted around them and some of the water started to evaporate as (Y/n)'s hand started to tremor.

She was trying to heat the water. She was testing herself.

"Okay, I think that's the limit."

When her hand began to shake and her fingers started to twitch, Charles carefully reached out and slipped his fingers into the grooves of her hand. He clasped her hand in his and moved to rest their hands on the side of the bath. The shaking stopped almost immediately and he could feel the extreme heat starting to fade from her hand.

His lips pressed against her temple and he stroked his thumb along the side of her hand.

"I thought the point of training was pushing past our limits?" Her voice was quiet as she slouched down against his chest and lifted her knees just out of the water.

"Finding limits and strengthening our mutations, not hurting yourself in the process."

(Y/n) nodded and carefully slid her hand from Charles's grip so she could turn it over and hold her palm out. She made sure to be careful when she created a few flickering flames in her palm. The closer she moved her palm to the water, the brighter she tried to make the flame.

She could feel Charles leaning down to attach his lips to the side of her neck while his left arm moved to secure around her waist. His thumb started to glide up and down her waist and he watched with intrigue and apprehension flooding his blue eyes.

He could feel the tension running through her body and the way her arm was shaking from her shoulder all the way down to her fingertips.

She got the back of her hand resting on top of the water as the flames stretched higher but began to flicker and tremor. She was starting to struggle. The water surrounding her hand started to bubble and steam boiled up around them.

(Y/n)'s head tilted to one side as she reached her free hand up and allowed droplets of water to sprinkle down onto her hand. She sank her teeth into her lip at the way the flames simmered and hissed and she could feel her hand twitching causing her body to shake with effort.

She closed her hand into a fist and dunked it into the water before Charles had the chance to tell her to stop. Water always complicated things. It extinguished every creation she tried to make, it made things harder and it hurt.

(Y/n) hated when she tried to use her powers and it began to rain. She almost set alight when that happened and it drained her to the point she wondered if she would ever be able to recreate any fire ever again.

"That was good." He murmured into her neck, each word resounding through her with shivers and trembles.

"Not really… my power can be extinguished."

"You have limitations."

"I don't want to be weak; limits are burdens," (Y/n) felt her feet scraping against the bottom of the tub and she pushed back into Charles so she didn't delve any deeper beneath the surface. She felt his arms tighten around her waist and he tucked his face down into her shoulder, nudging his damp nose against her skin.

"Think of them as boundaries, they keep us safe. There isn't one person out there who doesn't have limits."

A gasp tumbled past (Y/n)'s lips when she tumbled back into the snow. Tremors rattled through her body and she could feel the steam overwhelming her as the snow sank down like she was falling through the Earth as the blanket of snow simmered beneath her. It melted as if she were a knife slicing through butter until her back was laid on the ground and her clothes were soaking through with water.

She moved her hands down before she could think better of it and when her palms pressed into the water, she hissed.

The memory of yesterday in the bath with Charles vanished from her mind and she was brought back to reality as she started to shake.

Alex's aim was still far off. He almost hit her with his sonic beam mutation. If she hadn't of moved in time, she could have been split in half. Their mutations were similar, but Alex was a deadly weapon compared to the fire (Y/n) could create.

She shook her head and twisted round to push up to her feet, but she stumbled twice when her hands went straight through the snow.

"Alex, quit it!" She snapped when another beam hit the snow beside her, slicing through the snow with red waves that looked like blisters. The smoke his beams created was nothing compared to the steam radiating off of (Y/n) and when she tried to form a flame in her palm, she wanted to cry. Her skin felt like it was blistering. Her palm hurt like it had frost bite.

She pressed both palms down into the ground to try and get up off her knees, but when she looked down, a slither of dread crawled down her spine.

Oh no.

The pond.

The mansion had quite a few lakes and ponds on the grounds, all of which were frozen over and sheathed in snow with the winter weather upon them. Erik said it would be a good idea for them to practice outside in the elements, especially for (Y/n). The cold was her enemy and she had to try and see how far she could go in this weather.

They had moved too far. She had fallen on top of the frozen pond. She had to move quickly before she burned through the ice and went into the water.

"Sorry, sorry my aim is still shit, look I'll try again-"

"Alex don't-"

(Y/n) managed to get up to her feet and held her arms out beside her for balance but when she looked up, she shrieked. Her body jolted to the left and she fell with a large thud followed by a sinister crack that rocked the layer of ice beneath her. She landed harshly on her hip on the ice, both hands waving out to try and get herself onto her stomach so she could crawl back onto the snow-covered grass.

A screamed burst past her lips when she realised the ice was melting beneath her and before she got to the edge, her body suddenly jolted down.

The water was colder than anything (Y/n) had ever felt before.

It felt like she was a block of ice that had been dropped into a pit of hot coals. Their temperatures seemed to have swapped, she felt frozen to the bone and she felt like she was thawing out. She was melting. Steam was bubbling up around her and her lungs turned to ice when she was submerged beneath the surface and she couldn't breathe.

It was a good job her lungs had turned to ice, it stopped her from inhaling any water when they seized up and stopped working. It meant she wouldn't drown as quickly.

Her arms flailed around and when her head breached the surface, she tried to gasp for air but she could barely take in a proper breath.

Her legs flailed in the water, swishing and scraping at all angles while her nails clawed into the ice like picks digging in to secure herself to the edge.

The feeling of hands pinching into her arms made (Y/n) gasp and once her chest was on the ice again, she bashed her heels to get back onto safe ground. Alex tried his best to drag her but he couldn't do much when (Y/n) smacked him and clawed at him to let her go.

Her body scraped through the snow, leaving indents in her wake and a large trail as she scrambled over the frost covered grass and back onto the gravel path that was overtaken with ice and snow.

Every part of (Y/n) that could shake started to tremble and when she coughed and spluttered, it made her chest feel tighter.

She gave in and flopped onto her side like a fish out of water and curled her knees up towards her stomach while her arms bound to her chest. Her fingers flickered into her palms and back out again like a cigarette lighter trying to spark a flame. She continued to move her drenched hands that would have been overcome with ice by now, if it weren't for the natural heat she produced.

No flames sported in her palms, but her mutation worked enough to create sparks and she hurriedly shimmied her hands up and down her frame, trying to heat herself up.

Steam and water trickled around her as she tried to evaporate the water clinging to her body that felt like it had been given a re-start.

"Charles! I- I didn't… the pond- she fell in!" Words tumbled past Alex's lips as he pointed from Charles over to (Y/n). He knew she wouldn't let him get any closer to her, but she would let Charles help her.

The professor sprinted round the corner, his eyes scouring over every inch of the garden until he found the person he was looking for. The girl screaming out his name in her mind. He could barely comprehend anything but the sound of her mind's voice calling out to him. She sounded in peril; her voice flooded with terror.

His knees sank into the snow as he slammed down beside (Y/n), his eyes dragging up and down her dithering frame where a large puddle of water was forming beneath her. He watched for a few seconds as she dragged her hands up and down her body, trying her best to rid the water from her frame and dry herself out.

He reached down, trying his best to be tentative and careful as his hands cupped the sides of her face and tilted her head back so he could look down at her. He could hear her screaming a million other things in her mind, none of which he could make sense of.

Her nails scratched into his wrist when she clutched at his hands, clinging to him as 'cold' shivered past her lips.

'Don't leave me out here!' 'Please! Please let me in.' 'It hurts! I'm so, so cold.'

He could hear so many cries, so many pleas and whispers and screams, all from the same memory that was overtaking (Y/n)'s mind.

"Sweetheart… look at me. Love, stay with me." His jaw ground tight when her eyes rolled to the back of her head and the memory got louder.

Charles could feel the memory flashing before his eyes and replaying in his mind like a movie reel. She was slipping back into it; brought back by the cold and the pain and extreme weather that messed with her mutation.

He looped her trembling arms around his neck, tucking his face into her shoulder where he could feel her skin. She felt frozen yet somehow burning hot at the same time. Charles was so used to burying his nose in her neck and feeling the great warmth she radiated like he was kissing the flames of a fire. He wasn't used to feeling her skin with an inch of cold radiating through her like this.

His arm slid beneath her knees while his other arm curved around her back and he lifted her up into his chest. He turned on his heels and backtracked towards the nearest entrance to the mansion. He had to get her back in the warmth and out of the cold. The snow was going to make her a lot worse and Charles didn't want to find out if (Y/n) could become hypothermic or not.

He barged open the door with his shoulder, hurtling inside with (Y/n)'s trembling form in his arms. But every few seconds, he found himself wincing and snapping his eyes closed when her memory became too powerful.

Her face was tucked into his neck, her hands clutching at the back of his neck and her mind was so close and so, so loud that Charles couldn't help but slip into the memory with her. He clutched her tighter to his chest as he burst into the living room, desperate to set her down so he could try and push that memory out of her mind.

It was so cold.

(Y/n)'s arms flailed out, fighting off the hands pushing and prodding at her to get her to move faster. How could she go any faster when they hadn't let her put her shoes or socks on?

Her bare feet scuffed through the snow and the frost, creating puddles and a small stream of water in her wake. She scuffed through the snow, kicking and throwing it in all directions when she tried to turn, but the hands behind her wouldn't let her turn around and go back inside.

She didn't want to be out here. Why were they doing this? It wasn't fair.

The pyjamas she wore weren't enough to sustain in this cold weather. (Y/n) could withstand the cold. She would walk out in the briskest of winter nights and not feel a thing, as long as it wasn't snowing. Water dampened fire. Cold elements seeped into (Y/n)'s bones and dulled her mutation which therefore dulled her core temperature.

"No- no I-"

"You have to stay out here."

"Why?" Her pitiful voice travelled through the dark night sky and she looked over her shoulder just as her father gave her a rough push, landing her in a lump of snow that evaporated instantly.

Steam swirled through her nostrils and her arms hit the concrete beneath her with a thud that made her cry out. She hated the water that soaked into her clothes and the snow that began to melt around her.

She watched the way her father took a few rapid steps away from her and how her mother had already rushed back inside.

"Because you're dangerous. Once that fire within you is snuffed out and you're no longer one of them, then you can come back inside."

The snide tone in his words betrayed the sympathetic expression on his face. He hated it. He hated the mutation his daughter had, and the fact that she was one of the increasingly apparant mutants appearing in their society. He didn't want to have one of them in his family, and certainly not one with such a dark and dangerous power that had the ability to ruin them all.

It was snowing.

What better way to get rid of the fire within his daughter than to wither it away with the cold?

(Y/n) tried to get up. She slipped, skidded and stumbled back onto numb feet that soaked into the snow as she tried to hurry after her father back towards their home. She wanted to be inside. She had to stay warm. Staying out here in the snow was painful. It was already beginning to lick at her skin and reduce her heat.

"Dad, please-"

A horrid scream passed her lips when a bucket of water- with large shards of ice mixed in- was tossed onto her. The force sent her tumbling onto her back and steam smoked around her in large tendrils as if she had set on fire. Choked breaths of condensed air left her lips and she felt like she had frozen into the ground like cement as the ice melted and evaporated onto her.

She couldn't move. Her body was completely overtaken with the cold. Her hands shook and when she tried to illicit flames into her palms, nothing but a tortured scream prevailed. It hurt.

It hurt so much she thought someone had sliced through her palms right down to her nerves. The flames wouldn't appear. Her body wouldn't heat up.

The door slammed shut along with the lock. She couldn't get up to try and open it. She had no strength to knock it down and without her powers, she wouldn't be able to melt the lock and get back inside.

Would her powers really be snuffed out if she stayed in the cold for long enough? Out here, bare foot, wearing only her pyjama top and shorts, laid in the snow like she had already died and been cast out for the elements to take care of. Would her mutation disappear if she stayed out here?

Would that be for the best, if she lost her mutation? What good could it do, anyway? Fire burned. Fire demolished and attached and cremated and killed. The only good it did was to provide heat in times like this, but (Y/n) couldn't even provide herself with heat in this moment.

"Don't leave me out here!" Her voice became a croaky wail as she tried her best to sit up in the snow and move forward.

"Please! Please let me in." She needed to be inside, surely her mother couldn't hear her cries and let her stay out in the below zero temperatures like this?

"It hurts! I'm so, so cold."

She wanted to be inside. She wanted to go back into the warmth and be with her family. She had never hurt any of them, she never used her mutation for bad reasons or did any damage with her fire. Only when she first learned of her mutation did she cause damage, and that had never been on purpose.

She didn't want to be snuffed out like a flame.

"Sweetheart? It's okay, you're okay. That's it, open those eyes for me."

A shriek tore past (Y/n)'s lips and her body jolted forward when that tender voice reached her ears. Her eyes looked around, unsure where she was or what was happening until she registered that familiar touch.

Those soft hands cupping her face. Those thumbs tracing over her cheekbones and brushing beneath her eyes. Those ocean blue eyes piercing into hers like she was the only gem in the world worth admiring. That flash of a ruby red smile that showed his pearly whites as he breathed in relief.

She wasn't cold anymore. The trembling had stopped. She wasn't laid out in the snow, begging to be let back inside. No one had left her outside, waiting for her mutation to reverse itself or for her to die, whichever happened first.

"You're inside, in the warmth. You're not cold anymore." Charles's voice sounded like butter melting in her ears as she took in what he was saying.

The look in his eyes told (Y/n) he had witnessed the memory that overcame her when she was outside with Alex. He had seen why she hated the snow so much. Charles always knew something bad had happened, and he had seen bits and pieces during the bad nights when the memories overtook her. But he never knew who left her outside, for how long, or what had truly happened.

Well, never again. That was never going to happen again. Charles would make sure of it.

His hand slipped round from cradling the side of her face to cup the back of her neck and he leaned forward, pulling (Y/n) up so she was buried into his chest. His lips smothered the side of her temple and his other arm looped around her waist, keeping her as close to him as he could.

He felt the way her hands clutched at his back and the trembling had finally stopped. She was warm again. She wasn't in danger of becoming hypothermic. And Charles wouldn't let anyone harm her like that again.

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sorcerer-felix · 5 months ago

Note

I've never been the biggest guy about 5'5 and 180 Ibs. People think I am 10 years younger than I am (I'm 29). I wish I could be one of those huge muscular guys that has a commanding presence and oozes masculinity.

The gym buzzed with the sounds of grunting weights and the rhythmic thud of sneakers against treadmills. You watched, enviously, as the muscular men strutted around, their broad shoulders and commanding presence making you feel like a shadow in their midst.

You stood there in your oversized t-shirt, wishing you could be one of them—someone who could walk into a room and have everyone take notice. You were halfway through your lukewarm set of curls when you caught sight of Felix, the sorcerer. He was running on a treadmill, his blond hair flowing behind him like a golden banner.

You approached, half out of desperation and half out of curiosity. “Felix,” you said, slightly out of breath, “I wish I could be one of those huge muscular guys that has a commanding presence and oozes masculinity.” With a playful grin, Felix kept running. “That can be arranged, but it’s not just about appearance. It’s also about attitude. You need a mentor who shows you how to be commanding!” He paused his run, producing a tarot card. “Here, take this. It’s the Wheel of Fortune. If you find the right mentor, lay the card on the table and he will magically become your mentor and teach you everything you need to know!” You took the card, though skepticism nagged at the back of your mind. Still, you had nothing to lose.

Over the next few days, you wandered the gym, eyeing potential mentors. You’d approached some of the guys at the gym, hoping for guidance, but they were all brawn and no brains—mere meatheads with egos to match their muscles. Each encounter left you feeling more deflated. You wanted someone who could teach you not just how to lift weights but how to command a room, to embody the confidence that oozed from those muscular titans. Each failed attempt left you feeling more frustrated and disheartened. When you arrived at the office that day, the last thing you needed was Hank, your colleague. He strode in, exuding an air of arrogance that made your skin crawl. He was tall—towering, really—his muscles rippling beneath a fitted shirt that did little to hide his vanity. You hated him for it, yet a small part of you envied the way he filled the room with his presence. You despised him for his cocky swagger, but even more for the way his confidence made you feel small. "Hey, buddy," he said, stepping behind your chair, his voice a low rumble that dripped with condescension. You could feel the warmth of his body close to you, and his hands landed possessively on your shoulders. “Uh, Hank,” you started, trying to suppress the flutter of irritation in your chest. “Can you maybe not—” “Relax.” He leaned closer, peering at the screen. “What’s this? Your latest failure? Just look at this,” he said, his breath warm against your ear. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off the discomfort.

Then, disaster struck. Suddenly, the tarot card Felix had given you slipped from your shirt pocket, fluttering to the desk like a fallen leaf. You watched in disbelief as it landed, the edges glowing a magical blue. “What’s that?” Hank asked, his tone shifting from casual to curious.

Before you could reply, the card began to glow with a magical blue light. You stared in disbelief as the image on the card shifted to reveal a young man in a black jumpsuit, opened to the waist, with a dog mask covering his face. The imprint read "The Dog".

Your breath hitched. “Wha—?” Your body began to shift, warmth enveloping you as if you were being wrapped in a cocoon. “No! Wait!” you gasped, but it was too late. You fell to your knees, your shirt and dress pants melting into the silky fabric of the jumpsuit. A mask materialized over your face, obscuring your features. Hank’s laughter echoed in your ears, deep and mocking. “I guess I will name you Rowdy!” he said, his voice booming with satisfaction. You wanted to protest, to scream and tell him to fuck off, but all you could manage was a muffled growl, the mask constricting your voice.

The transformation continued, and you felt your body reshape, fur sprouting from your skin. You whimpered, a sound that was no longer human, as you became a sleek black dog. You looked up at Hank, who grinned down at you, a smug satisfaction radiating from him. “Good boy,” he said, his voice dripping with condescension.

Hank’s voice became a beacon of command in your mind, and you found yourself craving his approval, yearning for his direction. “Let’s train, Rowdy,” he said, a glint of excitement in his eyes. “You’re going to learn how to fight.” Days turned into weeks, and the training was brutal. Hank pushed you to your limits, and each fight honed your aggression and dominance.

The damp, concrete cellar was a far cry from the polished gym where you once felt so small. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood, the walls echoing with the growls and barks of dogs locked in combat. You were now one of them—at least in the sense that your body has been transformed into dogs'. The weight of your new body felt powerful, but beneath that strength was a struggle against the obedience that Hank had drilled into you. “Rowdy!” Hank barked, his voice a commanding rumble that sent a shiver through you. You instinctively dropped to all fours, your muscles taut and ready, eyeing him with a mix of anticipation and resentment. “Get over here!” You couldn't help but follow, the instinct to obey surging within you. As you approached, drool dripped from your lips, a sign of your growing ferocity, but inside, a part of you seethed. “Damn it,” you thought, your mind fighting against the dog inside. Hank crossed his arms, watching you with a smirk. “You’re getting better, boy. Can’t wait to see you tear into that mutt tonight. You’ve got the spirit of a champion.” His eyes shone with sadistic pride. You growled low in your throat, the sound escaping before you could suppress it. The thrill of the fight surged in your veins, a hunger that eclipsed the small, shy man you used to be. But it was Hank’s voice that kept you in line, the master that had reshaped you into this beast. “Sit!” he commanded, and against your will, your body complied, your haunches hitting the ground. “Good boy!” he praised, and the words stirred something within you—an odd mix of pride and loathing. As the days wore on, you felt the relentless rhythm of training seeping into your very being. The more you fought, the more you craved it. Every victory in the pit heightened your adrenaline, but it was always Hank’s approval that lingered in your mind. You hated the way it felt to seek his validation, yet there you were, locked in a cycle of obedience.

“Tonight’s fight is important,” Hank said, leaning closer, his breath hot against your face. “You need to show everyone who’s boss. You’re not just a dog; you’re my dog.” The possessiveness in his tone made you bristle, the primal part of you wanting to snap at him for his arrogance, yet you found yourself nodding, the obedience coursing through you like a drug. “Good. Now let’s see that aggression.” He tossed you a worn-out training dummy, and you lunged for it, sinking your teeth into the fabric. The thrill of tearing it apart sent sparks of pleasure through your body, and you felt a growl rumble deep in your chest. “Yeah, that’s it! Let it out!” Hank shouted, his voice a mix of excitement and authority. You could see the gleam in his eyes, and you knew he delighted in your ferocity, feeding it like a twisted form of affection.

Hours later, you stood in the makeshift pit, the crowd surrounding you like vultures, ready to witness the carnage. Your muscles were taut, every fiber of your being ready to explode into action. Hank stood at the edge, his gaze fixed on you, the way he commanded the room making you feel both empowered and trapped. “Show them who you are, Rowdy!” he shouted, and you surged forward, the thrill of the fight consuming you. You felt the adrenaline wash over you, the instinct to dominate and destroy taking control. As you lunged at your opponent, the rush of aggression overwhelmed you. You could almost taste the blood, the primal joy of the fight igniting a frenzy within.

But just as you were about to unleash your full power, a voice broke through the haze. “Rowdy, enough!” Hank’s command cut through the chaos, and you skidded to a halt, panting, your body trembling with pent-up energy. You hated that you had to obey, but the truth was, you had become his. “Good boy,” Hank cooed, and while your instincts roared for freedom, a part of you reveled in the praise. The thrill of the fight became an addiction, and you would often find yourself in a frenzy, teeth bared, ready to tear into anything that moved. It was Hank’s steady grip on your collar that pulled you back from the edge of madness when you teetered too close. In that moments, you were his perfect fighting dog, powerful and aggressive, yet completely obedient. The conflict within you grew, but as you locked eyes with Hank, you felt an odd sense of belonging.

One evening, after a particularly brutal training session, you lay stretched out on a couch in Hank’s luxurious loft. The scent of leather and cologne hung in the air as you panted, muscles sore but exhilarated. Hank leaned back in his chair, a satisfied smirk on his face. Felix strolled in, his presence lighting up the room. “How is he performing?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Hank chuckled, pride swelling in his chest. “He’s a good boy now. The perfect fighting dog—strong, aggressive, but totally loyal towards me!” Felix raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So, I guess you’ve taught him everything he needs to know!”

With a flick of his wrist, Felix summoned the magic again. You felt a tingling sensation wash over your body, and in an instant, everything changed. The world around you twisted and blurred, and suddenly, you were standing upright. You looked down, astonished to find yourself transformed back into a human. But you weren’t the meek office worker anymore. Gone was the timid, thin frame. Instead, you were a muscular, handsome man with black hair and a rugged stubble.

You felt the power coursing through you, the confidence radiating from your very being. “What the—” you started, your voice deep and commanding now. You flexed your arms, marveling at the definition in your biceps. Hank looked you up and down, a satisfied grin on his face. “Rowdy, you look incredible,” he said, his voice filled with admiration. “I knew you had it in you.” Felix clapped his hands together, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “See? I told you it was all about attitude. You’ve become the man you always wanted to be!” You felt a surge of energy, a newfound sense of self. “I… I never thought I could be like this,” you said, testing your voice. It was rich and resonant, dripping with authority. Hank stepped closer, his gaze steady. “You’ve earned this. You fought hard, and now you have what you wanted—a commanding presence.” As you looked around the luxurious loft, you realized just how far you had come. The weight of your insecurities melted away, replaced by a sense of purpose. “What’s next?” you asked, the thrill of excitement bubbling in your chest. Felix grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Now, it’s time for you to embrace your new life. The world is yours to conquer, Rowdy.” With a shared nod between the two of you, a new chapter began. You felt the weight of the past lift, replaced by the thrill of limitless possibilities. You were ready to command attention, to assert yourself in a world that had once overlooked you. As laughter echoed through the loft, you knew that you were no longer the invisible worker—you were Rowdy, a force to be reckoned with.

#sorcerer felix #male tf #male transformation #personality change #dog tf #musclegrowth #hunk tf

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benispunk · 4 months ago

Text

Who's That Girl?

Chapter 17: Let's Start Again

This is Logan's first day at Y/N's school. Are new beginnings always so scary?

logan howlett x reader

TW: language, D&W, jealousy jealousyyyy.

A/N: hey everyone!!! I can't believe this is chapter 17...four chapters left.......this one if pretty long I believe?? honestly it was pretty annoying to write because y/n and Logan frustrate me way too much like omg act on your feelings what the hell...(I have no control over my own story). but let's just say next chapter is like...getting crazy......oh and yeahhh hahaha logan's jealous (doesn't need to be, but it's Logan and he's oblivious)(and stupid)(and I like to make him suffer)(sorry not sorry).

→ this fic is inspired by the TV Show New Girl, Wade and Logan aren't Deadpool and Wolverine (no powers/mutant gene etc) but I did take most of their character traits and storyline!!

Masterlist /Previous Part / Next Part

Logan stood at the entrance of the school building, his hands stuffed deep into his jacket pockets. The place was larger than he’d expected, sprawling with endless hallways and brightly colored bulletin boards that already made him feel out of place.

New. This was all new. And terrifying.

The center had been his home for years, the place he’d found purpose after leaving the army and clawing his way back to stability. Now, after months of uncertainty, this school represented a second chance—not just for him, but for his students. Yet standing here now, his heart thundered in his chest. Would this work? Would the students feel safe? Accepted? Or was he just leading them into more judgment and rejection?

“Hey,” Y/N’s voice broke through his thoughts, grounding him. She smiled warmly as she approached, holding a folder under one arm. “You ready for this?”

“Not really,” Logan admitted, his voice gruff. He glanced at her, noting the ease in her demeanor. It was hard not to envy that. “You sure this is gonna work?”

Y/N nodded firmly, her confidence unwavering. “It’ll work. Give it some time. The students will adjust, and so will you. Besides, you’ve got your whole team here. You’re not alone in this.”

Logan grunted, unconvinced. “Still feels... off. Like we don’t belong.”

“New places always feel like that at first,” she said gently. “But you’ll make it yours. You always do.” She reached out and gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before stepping back. “Come on, I’ll walk you to the staff lounge. Your colleagues are probably already there.”

They walked together through the maze-like halls, Y/N pointing out landmarks as they went. “This hallway leads to the cafeteria,” she explained, gesturing to their left. “And that wing over there has the science labs and art rooms. Your classrooms will be just past the library.”

Logan tried to memorize the turns, but his thoughts kept drifting. Her presence was steadying in a way he didn’t fully understand, and he found himself relying on it more than he wanted to admit.

As they reached the staff lounge, Y/N paused.

“Alright,” she said with a smile, “this is where I leave you. The others are inside. Once you’re done here, head down the main hall, take the first right, and that’ll lead you toward my classroom. I’ll be there if you need anything.”

Logan hesitated, glancing at the closed door in front of him. “Thanks,” he muttered, his voice low. “For, uh, everything.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said lightly, though her eyes held a warmth that lingered. “You’re going to do great, Logan. Just remember—it’s okay to ask for help.”

He nodded, watching as she turned and walked away, her steps confident and sure. With a deep breath, Logan pushed open the lounge door.

Inside, the familiar faces of his colleagues greeted him. Ororo, Jean, Scott, Hank, and Charles were seated around a table, their conversations halting as he entered. For a moment, it felt like the center all over again—his people, his team. A sense of relief washed over him.

“Logan!” Ororo called out, a smile breaking across her face. “There you are. We were starting to think you’d gotten lost.”

“Almost did,” Logan admitted, shrugging off his jacket. He took a seat at the table, nodding to the others. “This place is a damn maze.”

Scott chuckled. “You’ll get used to it. We all will.”

Charles leaned forward, his expression calm but reassuring. “This is a big change for all of us. But we’re here together, and that’s what matters.”

Logan nodded, the knot in his chest loosening slightly. For the first time that morning, he felt a flicker of hope. They’d figure this out—together.

As the meeting began, Logan focused on the discussion, taking in the details of schedules, protocols, and the expectations for integrating their program into the larger school. The questions raised by his colleagues mirrored his own concerns, but the answers, while not perfect, were enough to keep his doubts at bay—for now.

———

The morning was filled with back-to-back meetings. The principal welcomed their team, explaining the integration process and laying out expectations. There were introductions to other staff members and detailed briefings on schedules, classroom management policies, and how their specialized program would coexist with the general school population.

Logan found himself seated next to Charles most of the time, and during a break, he leaned over. “This feel weird to you too?” he asked, keeping his voice low.

Charles smiled faintly. “It’s an adjustment, certainly. But we’ve faced challenges before, haven’t we?”

Logan grunted. “Yeah. Still... this ain’t like the center.”

“It’s not,” Charles agreed. “But maybe that’s a good thing. We have an opportunity here—to reach more people, to prove that our students can thrive anywhere. Including here.”

Logan considered that, his gaze drifting to the window. The students deserved this chance, he knew that much. It was the rest of it—the unknowns, the potential for failure—that gnawed at him.

By lunchtime, Logan was drained. The meetings had been informative but overwhelming, each new piece of information adding to the weight on his shoulders. As the group wrapped up, Ororo turned to him. “You coming to the cafeteria with us?”

He nodded, standing up from his seat with a grunt and joining the group.

Logan followed Charles and Ororo as they led the way to the cafeteria. The space buzzed with noise: the clatter of trays, bursts of student laughter, and snippets of conversation that overlapped into a chaotic hum. Logan scanned the room instinctively, taking in every detail as they moved toward the teachers' section at the back.

The long table was already half-occupied. Y/N’s colleagues sat in lively conversation. He recognized a few faces—Steve and Natasha from her descriptions—but most were strangers to him.

Logan spotted her almost immediately. Y/N sat near the center, a bright presence among the group, laughing at something said by the man next to her who…sat way too close to her and had an arm perched on the back of her chair?

Logan’s jaw clenched.

“C’mon,” Charles said, nudging Logan forward. “Let’s grab a seat.”

As they approached, Y/N’s head turned, her eyes lighting up as she spotted him. She smiled warmly and gestured toward the empty chair beside her. Logan’s chest tightened for a moment, though he couldn’t pinpoint why.

“Hey!” Y/N greeted as they reached the table. Her colleagues looked up, their conversations pausing as they turned their attention to the newcomers.

“Ah, the cavalry has arrived,” the dark-haired man beside Y/N said, his grin widening. “And who do we have here?”

“This is Logan,” Y/N said with a laugh. “He’s my roommate, but I shouldn’t have favorites.” Her eyes twinkled as she gestured toward the others. “Let me introduce you to the rest of the team.”

She gestured to each in turn. “And this is Ororo, who teaches geography; Charles, our new program supervisor and philosophy sage; Scott, is a maths teacher; Jean, who’s all about linguistics; and Hank, our biology wizard.”

Y/N’s colleagues exchanged nods and smiles with the newcomers, the initial formality quickly melting away under Y/N’s bright energy.

“Alright, now that you’ve met the brain trust, let’s meet the chaos crew,” Y/N said, gesturing to her table. She starts with the man who’s the reason behind Logan’s frown, “Tony here teaches engineering and insists on calling himself a genius—he’s really not.” She whispered the last part, making Tony gasp, in mock-offense.

“How dare you!” Tony exclaimed, dramatically putting a hand on his chest as everyone laughed.

“This is Natasha,” Y/N continued, gesturing to the redhead. “Our PE teacher. It’s totally normal to be scared of her and love her so much at the same time.”

Natasha smirked. “Welcome to the school.” Her sharp eyes briefly flicked to Logan, her expression unreadable, before she turned back to Y/N.

“Steve,” Y/N said, motioning to the blond man beside Natasha. “History teacher, master of classroom discipline, and nicest guy around. Logan, you two might want to team up—double the history, double the trouble.”

Steve chuckled, extending a hand toward Logan. “Looking forward to it. We’ll have to compare teaching strategies.”

Logan nodded, his handshake firm. “Sounds like a plan.”

“And Bruce,” Y/N finished, nodding toward the man at the end of the table. “Chemistry expert and the calm in every storm. You’ll never find him raising his voice, even when Tony’s causing trouble.”

Bruce smiled shyly. “Nice to meet you all. Good luck with your first week.”

As everyone exchanged polite greetings and slid into seats, Logan found himself next to Y/N. The buzz of conversation filled the air, but his focus kept shifting. Y/N’s bright laughter and easy banter with her colleagues were magnetic, and Tony’s overly casual arm draped along the back of her chair was downright irritating.

“So, Logan,” Tony said, his grin as sharp as ever, “what’s it like living with Y/N? I imagine she keeps you on your toes.”

Logan’s jaw tightened slightly, though he kept his voice even. “She’s the best there is.”

“Oh please, don’t forget Wade” Y/N replied, making Logan snort, adding, “I am not forgetting him when I say that.”

Tony laughed, leaning forward. “Oh, I’m sure. Bet it’s never boring with her around.”

Logan’s grip on his fork tightened, but he forced a neutral expression. “Not boring, no.”

Natasha’s sharp gaze flicked between Logan and Y/N, a faint smirk playing at her lips as if she was piecing together a puzzle only she could see. “Sounds like you two have a good dynamic,” she said, her voice light but laced with meaning.

Y/N, oblivious, nudged Logan playfully. “I mean, it’s amazing now. We get to work together and all. Hope you will not grow tired of me.”

Logan’s lips twitched into a smile as he shake his head. He would never get tired of her.

Tony leaned in slightly, his grin as sharp as ever. “And how’s the first day treating you? I bet Y/N prepared you at home.”

“She’s been helpful,” Logan replied evenly, though his eyes flicked to Tony’s arm, still resting far too casually on the back of Y/N’s chair.

“Of course she has,” Tony said, his grin widening. “Y/N’s good at taking care of everyone. Must be nice to have her as a roommate.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, but before he could respond, Y/N laughed lightly, brushing Tony’s comment aside. “Alright, Tony, enough interrogation for now.”

“Just making conversation,” Tony said innocently, leaning back in his chair.

Tony’s easy familiarity with Y/N didn’t sit well, though he knew it was irrational. He focused on his food, trying to ignore the way Tony leaned closer to Y/N to share some inside joke.

She would have told him or Wade if she was seeing anyone, right? Let alone her colleague?

As the lunch progressed, the table broke into smaller conversations. Hank and Bruce were discussing a recent seminar, Natasha was listening to Scott sharing a story about the center, and Charles was quietly observing everything with his usual calm demeanor.

Tony, of course, wasn’t done. “So, Logan,” he said, catching his attention again. “How’re you finding the place so far? Adjusting to all the chaos?”

“It’s fine,” Logan replied, his tone even.

“Not much of a talker,” Tony remarked, nudging Y/N. “I can see why you two get along.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Ignore him,” she said to Logan. “He thinks he’s hilarious.”

“I am hilarious,” Tony said, grinning. “You’ll see, Logan. Give it time.”

Logan didn’t respond, his focus drifting back to Y/N. She was chatting with Steve now, her expression animated as she described something from her morning class. Logan couldn’t help but notice how comfortable she seemed here, how easily she fit into this group. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen much at home, and it caught him off guard.

When the lunch break ended, the group began to disperse, conversations trailing off as people gathered their trays and prepared to head back to their respective classrooms. Tony clapped Logan on the shoulder as he passed, winking at him. “Good luck out there, big guy. And don’t worry—I’ll keep an eye on Y/N for you.”

Logan’s jaw tightened, but he forced a neutral expression. “Thanks,” he muttered.

As they walked out of the cafeteria, Y/N glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Logan said, though his voice was clipped. “Your colleagues are... interesting.”

Y/N laughed. “You’ll get used to them. Tony grows on you. Eventually.”

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “Not so sure about that.”

They parted ways at the end of the hall, Y/N heading toward her next class while Logan made his way back to his own room. Even as the noise of the students surrounded him, his thoughts lingered on the cafeteria.

“Get a grip,” Logan muttered under his breath. But the feeling stayed with him, simmering just beneath the surface.

———

Logan spent the afternoon alone in his classroom, organizing materials and trying to make sense of the layout. The room felt unfamiliar—too sterile, too quiet. He tried arranging desks in a semicircle, then switched them back to rows, grumbling under his breath.

By the time the final bell rang, his desk was covered in papers and supplies. A whiteboard marker had exploded in his hand, leaving a dark smudge on his palm, and the instructions for the smartboard setup were a puzzle he wasn’t sure he’d ever solve. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. It was going to be a long adjustment period.

The hallway, lively only moments ago, grew quiet as students filed out. He welcomed the silence, but then, faint laughter drifted toward his door. One of the voices stood out—bright, familiar, and unmistakably hers. The other…ugh…

When the knock came, Logan didn’t look up. “Come in.”

Y/N peeked her head inside, a teasing grin on her face. “Professor Howlett? Can we go home now?” she asked, mimicking the tone of an impatient student.

Logan glanced up, his lips quirking into a reluctant smile. “Funny. Give me a minute. Still tryin’ to figure this place out.”

Y/N stepped fully into the room, leaning against the doorframe. “Need help?” she offered, her voice light.

Before Logan could answer, Tony appeared behind her, his ever-present smirk firmly in place. “Professor Howlett, huh? Has a nice ring to it.” He gave the room a once-over, his hands tucked casually into his pockets. “Looks like you’ve been busy.”

Logan’s mood dipped at the sight of him. “Yeah,” he muttered.

“You’ll get the hang of it,” Tony said, moving further into the room like he owned the place. He gestured toward the desks. “Soon enough, it’ll feel like home.”

Logan bit back a sarcastic reply, choosing instead to stack a few stray papers on his desk. He didn’t need Tony’s advice—or his presence.

Sensing the tension, Y/N stepped in with her usual ease, her voice cutting through the awkwardness. “It doesn’t have to be perfect right away,” she said, her tone warm and reassuring. “You’ve got time.”

Her words were simple, but they settled something inside him. He caught her gaze and offered a small, genuine smile. “Thanks.”

Tony, oblivious or deliberately ignoring the mood, clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Anyway, I’ve got places to be. Don’t work too hard, Howlett.”

Before leaving, he leaned in and kissed Y/N’s cheek. Logan’s jaw tightened as he watched the casual gesture. It was the second time today, and each one grated more than the last.

When the door clicked shut behind Tony, the silence was louder than it had been before. Y/N turned back to Logan, studying his face. “You okay?” she asked softly, stepping closer.

Logan exhaled slowly, unclenching his fists at his sides. “Yeah,” he said, though his voice was rougher than he intended. “Let’s get outta here.”

Y/N didn’t push, didn’t ask him to elaborate. Instead, she smiled and nodded. “Alright. Ready when you are.”

As they left the classroom and headed down the empty hallway, Logan found himself glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. She walked with an easy confidence, her bag slung over her shoulder, her expression relaxed.

“Thanks for checkin’ on me,” he said after a beat, his voice low but sincere.

“Anytime,” Y/N replied, her smile softening. “We’re in this together now, right?”

Something in her words struck a chord, and Logan felt the corners of his mouth twitch upward. Maybe this place wouldn’t be so bad after all.

———

When they got home, Wade was lounging on the couch, wearing an exaggerated expression of anticipation. The moment they walked through the door, he sprang up, clapping his hands together like an overzealous game show host.

“Alright, spill the beans!” he demanded. “First day at the new school—how was it? Did you get lost? Did you make enemies? Did someone challenge you to a duel in the parking lot? Give me the dirt!”

Logan smirked faintly, dropping his bag by the door. “It wasn’t a first day. No classes yet—just settin’ up.”

Wade made a disappointed noise, flopping back onto the couch. “Boring. Come on, man, you’re supposed to have stories. This is your big school debut!”

“I’m not here to entertain you, bub,” Logan muttered, making his way toward the kitchen.

Y/N winked at Wade, setting her bag on the counter before chiming in. “You’ll get your dramatic stories once the students arrive.”

Wade pointed a finger at her. “You better deliver. I need juicy teacher gossip. You know, cliques in the staff room, secret rivalries… Oh! Or a forbidden teacher romance.” He wiggled his eyebrows, glancing between Logan and Y/N with a sly grin.

“Alright, I’m going to get changed,” Y/N announcing, playfully ignoring Wade’s antics. She grabbed a glass of water and headed toward her room. “Don’t bully Logan with your nonsense.”

“Don’t worry, Teach!” Wade called after her, then turned to Logan with a conspiratorial look. “Alright, buddy. Seriously, how’d it go? Was it weird? Overwhelming? Do they know you’re secretly a grizzly bear in disguise?”

Logan grunted, leaning against the counter as he cracked open a beer. “It was fine. Place seems nice enough. Staff’s… friendly.”

“Friendly?” Wade echoed, raising an eyebrow. “What, like handshake-friendly, or suspiciously-friendly, like they’ll talk shit behind your back?”

Logan ignored him, taking a long sip of his drink.

Wade leaned back, studying him with exaggerated seriousness. “Hmm. You’re quiet. That means one of two things: you’re secretly thrilled about this job but too tough to admit it, or… you’re brooding over something. Which is it?”

“Neither,” Logan replied curtly, though his grip on the bottle tightened slightly.

Wade’s eyes narrowed in mock suspicion but, to Logan’s relief, he dropped the subject. “Alright, Logie Bear. I’ll let it slide. For now.”

Later that evening, after Y/N had gone to bed, Logan stepped out onto the balcony, lighting a cigarette. The cool night air helped ease some of the tension from his shoulders, but his thoughts remained tangled.

The school seemed fine, more than fine, really. The staff had been welcoming, the facilities impressive. It should have felt like a fresh start. So why was his mind stuck on something—or someone—else entirely?

The sliding door opened, and Wade stepped out, interrupting Logan’s thoughts.

“What’s up, Lone Wolf? Couldn’t sleep?” Wade asked, leaning against the railing beside him.

Logan shrugged, taking a drag from his cigarette.

Wade glanced at him, then grinned. “So… is it weird having Y/N as a colleague? I mean, she’s the best, right? Perfect smile, perfect vibe. Bet everyone loves her.”

Logan exhaled a cloud of smoke, not meeting Wade’s gaze. “She’s good at what she does. No surprise there.”

“Uh-huh,” Wade said knowingly.

Logan shot him a warning look. “Drop it.”

Wade held up his hands in mock surrender, but the grin never left his face. “Alright, alright. I’ll back off. But you know, Logan… if there’s something you want, maybe you should stop pretending it’s out of reach.”

Logan didn’t respond, just flicked the ash from his cigarette and stared into the night.

The silence stretched for a moment before Wade clapped him on the shoulder. “Well, you’ve got your big debut tomorrow, Professor Howlett. Try not to scare the kids too much. And hey, maybe smile. Just once. For the morale.”

Logan snorted. “No promises.”

Wade turned to leave, sliding the door open. Logan hesitated, his grip on the cigarette tightening. Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out: “Did Y/N ever mention a guy named Tony?”

Wade froze mid-step. Slowly, he turned back, an unholy glint in his eye. “Tony?” he repeated, his voice practically dripping with intrigue.

Logan inwardly cursed himself. It was too late now.

Wade stepped back onto the balcony, shutting the door firmly behind him. “Oh, we’re not done here, bub. Who’s Tony? What’s his deal? Why are you asking? No, wait—are you secretly jealous?”

“Wade—” Logan started, but Wade held up a finger.

“Nope. Don’t even try. You brought this up, so now we’re unpacking it.”

Logan groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “It’s nothin’. Forget I said anything.”

Wade leaned against the railing, grinning like he had just won the lottery. “Oh, no, no, no. You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and walk away. Who is this Tony? Does he work with Y/N? Is he tall? Short? Handsome? A complete loser? Spill!”

Logan shook his head, trying to feign disinterest. “Forget it. I’m goin’ to bed.”

As Logan turned to go, Wade’s laughter rang out behind him. “This is amazing. You’re totally jealous! Logan Howlett, toughest guy in town and pining over the girl next door. Oh, I am so using this material for my next set!”

Logan slammed the balcony door behind him, Wade’s laughter still echoing in his ears. He threw himself onto the couch, muttering under his breath. Tomorrow would be his first real day at the school, but all he could think about was the knot in his stomach every time Tony Stark crossed his mind.

———

The classroom was quiet as Logan finished writing the day’s objectives on the whiteboard. He glanced over his shoulder, double-checking everything—the desks grouped in clusters for collaboration, the beanbag corner set up by the window, and the all too cliché encouraging posters on the walls. His stomach churned with a mix of nerves and excitement.

The sound of laughter carried down the hallway, growing louder as it neared the door. Logan turned just in time to see two familiar faces.

“Kitty, it’s not that serious,” Bobby said, exasperated but amused.

Kitty appeared beside him, her hands clasped together in mock prayer. “It is that serious! The room has to have good vibes, Bobby. Good vibes are everything.”

Logan smirked and crossed his arms. “If you’re done debating the room’s feng shui, you can find your seats.”

Kitty jumped slightly, her face flushing. “Oh! Sorry, Mr. Logan. We didn’t mean to interrupt.” She offered him a sheepish smile and quickly made her way inside, choosing a desk near the middle.

Bobby followed, dropping into the seat beside her with a dramatic sigh. “For the record, the vibes seem fine to me.”

“Only because you’re not paying attention,” Kitty shot back with a grin.

Before Logan could respond, a soft shuffling sound caught his attention. Standing just outside the door, clutching the straps of her backpack, was Laura.

Logan’s expression softened. “Hey, Laura,” he said gently. “Come on in. Your name’s on the front desk.”

Laura hesitated, her gaze flitting from Logan to the other students before she finally stepped inside. She moved quickly, sitting at the desk he’d pointed to and keeping her eyes fixed downward.

Logan gave her a reassuring nod and turned back to the door just as another figure hurried up, slightly out of breath.

“Marie,” Logan said, raising an eyebrow. “Cutting it close again?”

Marie pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, shrugging as she stepped inside. “Not late if the bell hasn’t rung, right?”

“Barely,” Logan replied, a hint of amusement in his tone.

She smiled sheepishly and quickly found a seat near the window, setting her bag on the floor and pulling out her notebook. “Good morning, by the way,” she added lightly, earning a small chuckle from Logan.

Once everyone was settled, Logan leaned against the edge of his desk, his gaze sweeping over the group. “Alright. I know this place is new for all of us. New walls, new floors, new everything. But here’s the thing—this room? It’s ours now. Same as before.”

The students exchanged uncertain looks, the weight of the unfamiliar space still hanging in the air. Bobby raised his hand tentatively. “Does that mean we can, like, make it ours? Maybe… get rid of the beanbag corner?”

“Or at least fix it,” Kitty added quickly. “It’s kind of lumpy.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, suppressing a grin. “Let’s see how you all behave before we talk about redecorating.”

The tension eased, and Logan stepped toward the board. “Here’s what I want you to do. Think of one thing this room needs to feel more like home, and write it on the board.”

The students hesitated at first, but Bobby was the first to stand, grabbing a marker and writing nap corner in bold letters.

“Nap corner?” Kitty asked, laughing. “Bobby, think bigger.” She took the marker and added string lights beneath it, her handwriting neat and precise.

Marie leaned forward, propping her chin on her hand. “Nap corner? That’s ambitious. How about a snack drawer?”

“Snack drawer?” Bobby said, groaning. “How about something that doesn’t empty out in a week?”

Kitty rolled her eyes and handed the marker to Laura, who had quietly approached the board. She hesitated for a moment before writing plants in small, careful letters at the bottom of the list.

“Good call,” Logan said, his voice warm.

Marie thought for a few seconds, reading the list over and over again. “I guess I’ll add something practical,” she said, standing and writing extra chargers.

“Now we’re talking,” Bobby said, nodding approvingly.

As the ideas piled up, Logan leaned back, arms crossed, a rare chuckle escaping when Bobby added arcade machine.

Kitty groaned. “Why don’t you just ask for a roller coaster while you’re at it?”

“Noted,” Bobby replied, grinning.

Logan shook his head, still smiling as he watched his students. The nervous energy of the new environment had all but disappeared, replaced by laughter and easy banter.

This was more than a classroom. It was becoming theirs.

———

The hum of casual conversation filled the teacher’s lounge as Logan pushed open the door. He scanned the room briefly, his eyes automatically landing on Y/N, who was standing by the coffee machine, chatting with Clint and Tony. Her smile was soft, her head tilted as she laughed at something Tony had said, and Logan felt a strange sense of calm.

He made his way over to her without hesitation, brushing past Charles, Scott, and Natasha, who were sitting at one of the larger tables.

Scott raised an eyebrow, leaning toward Charles. “Did he just walk right past us without so much as a hello?”

Charles glanced up, his expression calm but amused. “It appears so.”

“Rude,” Scott muttered before turning his attention back to Logan, who had now joined Y/N. The two were already deep in conversation, Logan leaning slightly toward her, his gruff expression softening.

Natasha chuckled, taking a sip of her tea. “You say ‘rude,’ but I say predictable.”

Scott leaned back in his chair, folding his arms. “Ever since his girl’s been around, we don’t exist anymore.”

Natasha raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “His girl?”

“Please, I might have struggled seeing the signals when Jean and I got closer but this… You’ve seen the way he looks at her,” Scott said, motioning toward Logan and Y/N. “And the way she looks at him. They’re so oblivious. Remember the party at the center?” He asked Charles who nodded with a smile, “Even the students noticed.”

Natasha glanced toward them, her sharp gaze narrowing slightly. “Y/N never mentioned anything apart from the fact they’re roommates.”

“Roommates, sure,” Scott said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “But does that explain why he abandoned us mid-conversation just now?”

“Oh, this just keeps getting better,” Natasha murmured, her eyes sparkling with interest.

Charles chuckled quietly, earning their attention. “If you really want the full story, there’s something else you should know.”

Natasha and Scott leaned in, their curiosity piqued.

Charles spoke quietly enough so that only them would hear. “Did you know that Y/N is the reason behind all this?”

Scott frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She’s the one who orchestrated the entire transfer,” Charles explained, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “She proposed the idea to the school board, fought for the resources, and ensured the center staff and students could integrate here.”

Scott’s and Natasha’s jaws dropped. “Wait, she did all that?”

“For everyone,” Charles confirmed. “But... mostly for Logan.”

“Of course she did,” Scott muttered, shaking his head in disbelief.

Natasha was still processing. “And he doesn’t know?”

“She asked to keep it a secret,” Charles said. “She didn’t want him—or anyone else, for that matter—to feel indebted.”

Natasha blinked, then glanced back toward Y/N and Logan, her expression a mixture of admiration and shock. “That’s insane. And he has no idea?”

“None,” Charles said, smiling knowingly.

Natasha glanced back toward Logan and Y/N, her sharp eyes catching the way Logan’s shoulders relaxed slightly when Y/N smiled at him. “Well, if he doesn’t figure it out soon, he’s an idiot.”

Scott laughed quietly. “Seriously. She saved his ass. And he’s... what? Following her around like a lost puppy?”

“I wouldn’t call him a puppy,” Natasha said with a smirk. “But he’s definitely got it bad.”

Scott shrugged. “Either way, this is next-level stuff.”

———

Clint's gaze landed on Logan as he approached Y/N, breaking away from the conversation he had with Tony. “You must be Logan,” he said, extending a hand with a friendly grin. “Clint Barton.”

Logan took the offered handshake, his grip firm but brief. “Logan. Nice to meet you.”

“Same here,” Clint said, releasing his hand. “I didn’t get a chance to say hi yesterday, but I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Tony smirked, giving Logan a casual once-over. “Don’t worry, Logan. Clint talks a big game, but he’s harmless. Mostly.”

Logan shot him a quick, dismissive nod but didn’t bother responding. His attention shifted back to Y/N.

“How’d your morning go?” Logan asked her, his voice softening.

Y/N turned toward him, her expression brightening at his presence. “It was good,” she said warmly. “How about yours? First day went okay?”

“Not bad,” Logan replied, his voice steady but his focus subtly shifting to Y/N. “Kids were a bit lively, but nothing I couldn’t handle.”

“Lively?” Clint echoed, chuckling as he stirred his coffee. “Pretty sure that’s their default mode.”

Tony, leaning casually against the counter, grinned. “You think that’s bad? Try keeping their attention while explaining molecular bonds. Half of them start doodling as soon as I say the word ‘electrons.’”

Y/N laughed, her eyes sparkling. “They’re just not ready to appreciate the magic of chemistry, Tony. Maybe if you added a few explosions to your lessons, you’d get their attention.”

“Careful, Y/N,” Tony teased. “Give me ideas like that, and the whole science wing might go up in flames.”

Logan’s lips quirked in a small smile, though his gaze lingered on Tony just a second too long. The way he always seemed to draw Y/N into playful banter, making her laugh like that—it gnawed at Logan more than he’d care to admit.

Her soft laugh sent a quiet pang of admiration through Logan. He liked how easily she seemed to brighten up the room, her presence balancing out the overwhelming energy of Clint and Tony.

Tony, still leaning slightly closer to Y/N than Logan thought was necessary, grinned. “So, Logan, any plans to join the chaos and let these two drag you into the next staff meeting argument?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, finally sparing Tony a glance. “I’ll pass. Not my thing.”

“Smart man,” Clint said, clapping him on the shoulder.

Logan’s lips twitched slightly, but his focus remained on Y/N. Her presence was grounding, a quiet reminder that he wasn’t navigating this new environment entirely on his own. He caught the faintest hint of her perfume when she shifted slightly, and something about the familiarity of it helped ease the tension building in his chest.

As Clint and Tony launched into a playful debate about the best takeout spot in town, Logan found himself standing closer to Y/N. He wasn’t fully listening to their argument—something about tacos versus shawarma—but he noticed how Y/N seemed invested, nodding along and chiming in occasionally.

She had a way of making people feel heard, Logan realized, even when the conversation was as trivial as lunch options. It was one of the things he admired most about her, how she seemed to care so effortlessly.

His gaze softened as he let it linger on her profile. The way her lips curved when she smiled, the way her eyes lit up when Clint said something especially ridiculous—it was all so distinctly her.

When she caught him looking, Y/N raised an eyebrow, a faint, knowing smile tugging at her lips. Logan’s mouth quirked into a small, almost imperceptible smile in return. The exchange was brief, quiet, but it was enough to make his shoulders relax.

Tony said something that made Clint burst into laughter, but Logan barely registered it.

The buzz of the teacher’s lounge, the unfamiliar faces, the tension that came with starting somewhere new—it all seemed to fade into the background. Logan didn’t need much. Just this moment. Just her.

———

The teachers’ lounge was quiet by the time Logan stepped in, the last rays of the sun casting a golden glow through the windows. He wasn’t expecting anyone to still be around at this hour, let alone Y/N, who was seated on the worn couch, a book resting on her lap. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, her expression brightening when she saw him.

“I didn’t expect you to wait for me,” Logan said, his voice low as he set his bag down near the door. “Your class ended an hour ago.”

Y/N shrugged lightly, the corner of her lips lifting in a small smile. “I don’t mind waiting. Figured you might want some company after your first day.”

Logan’s brow furrowed, and he leaned against the edge of the table, studying her. “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know,” she replied simply, the warmth in her tone disarming him.

He exhaled slowly, his body relaxing as the weight of the day started to lift. “First day treating you okay?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.

“It’s... different,” Logan admitted, his gaze drifting for a moment. “But the kids make it easier.”

“They adore you,” Y/N said, her voice soft but certain. “It’s easy to see why.”

Logan’s eyes snapped back to her, startled by the unexpected compliment. For a second, he didn’t know what to say, the sincerity in her tone settling in his chest and sending a faint, unfamiliar flutter through him. Butterflies? He scoffed at the notion inwardly, but the feeling lingered.

“Not sure about ‘adoration,’” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

“I am,” she countered with a gentle laugh, her gaze steady on him.

For a moment, the space between them felt smaller, the room quieter. Y/N’s eyes lingered on his for just a beat longer than usual, and Logan could feel something shift—an unspoken connection crackling in the air.

“Well,” she said after a moment, standing and stretching, “ready to head home?”

Logan blinked, the question pulling him back to reality. “Yeah... Yeah, let’s go.”

She grabbed her bag and fell into step beside him as they walked out of the lounge together. Logan caught himself glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, the warmth of her presence grounding him in a way he hadn’t expected.

As they stepped into the crisp evening air, Logan couldn’t help but think about how easy it was to be around her—how much brighter the day felt just knowing she’d waited for him. He still wouldn’t let himself say it out loud, but the truth was creeping closer, undeniable now: Y/N was more than just his roommate, more than just a colleague. She was becoming something else entirely, something that made his heart beat a little faster with every passing second.

But not today. Not yet.

For now, he’d let the moment settle, walking beside her as they made their way home, the silence between them as comfortable as it was telling.

XXX

#fanfiction #fandom #ao3 #logan howlett x reader #deadpool and wolverine #marvel cinematic universe #logan howlett #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #logan howlett imagine #xmen fanfiction #xmen x reader #wade wilson #deadpool 3 #deadpool movies #deadpool #fanfic #wolverine fanfiction #deadpool fanfiction

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biracy · 2 years ago

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Here are the thoughts btw (trying to be as spoiler-free as possible but no promises):

Jesse's season 1 and season 2 outfits (which are primarily characterized by big puffy patterned jackets, big baggy pants, t-shirts with like idk a skull or a Jack-o-lantern or some shit like that on it, and surprisingly coordinated beanies) are EXTREMELY distinctive in the same way that his season 1 bouncing car is. There's a lot you can analyze about why he dresses this way, but I think the most significant read is that he's trying to make himself look bigger, both literally physically bigger with the baggy clothes, and more successful, "cooler", yknow. It's representative of that pre-rehab insecurity and honestly immaturity that characterize Jesse in these seasons. Right after he goes to rehab, he dresses very plainly (plain, single-color shirts, straight-cut jeans, no hats, he even completely shaves his face for a little bit which is weird to look at), which is a very sharp shift that's instantly noticeable and doesn't feel quite right. Mid-season 3 and into season 4, though, there's a shift back towards the season 1/2 style, but in a much subtler way. He clearly has a defined sense of personal style (there are still skulls and rhinestones and band logos and embroidered jackets and shit), but in a way that feels more mature and, most significantly, less conspicuous. It's "distinctive", easily, I can still point out a shirt at the mall and tell my brothers it's "a Jesse shirt", but it's not as Big and Showy as the season 1/2 outfits, just like how he replaces his s1 bouncing Monte Carlo with that Toyota Tercel. It's not JUST that Jesse's kind of maturing and growing into himself and adjusting his mindset to the realities of his new life experiences, but also that he's becoming less distinctive and noticeable to keep his career under wraps and, ostensibly, himself safe. There's a scene somewhere in season 3 where he tries to sell meth to the clerk at a gas station, and later, she's unable to really identify him to Hank (he's white, he has light brown hair, he has blue eyes, yeah yeah yeah, dreamy). Season 1 Jesse could've NEVER gotten away with that, he has too memorable of a look. It's a cool character development thing that I really like. Also just LOOK at some of those t-shirts they're objectively extremely cool

I actually have a lot of Media Analysis Smartboy Thoughts about the costumes in BrBa, particularly the shifts in how certain characters dress as the show progresses, ESPECIALLY how Jesse starts dressing in like season 3, but also I cannot talk about it in a way that doesn't begin and end with "this t-shirt rips and I want it"

#open mick night #breaking bad #i've been a rhinestone skull t-shirt guy for years you knew this was gonna happen #i wouldn't call this 'gender envy' or whatever btw it's just 'they should auction the costume pieces of this show off so i can have them'#hank should call ME dreamy. fuck yall #this isn't even me talking about color symbols in this show bc brother believe me i could talk about THAT #oh also this isn't analysis-relevant but in one of the last eps i watched he was wearing a steve aoki t-shirt #which i just thought was such a funny time capsule thing. i love you 2011

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definitely-not-outlet · 3 days ago

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The Great Experiment - Chapter 7

Chapter Title: Some Enchanted Evening (Part 1)

Norm MacLean x Elodie Brooks (OC) | Pre-War AU

Masterlist | Ao3 | <- Previous Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: laughs maniacally.

-----

Elodie had not, in fact, woken up cured. If anything, she’d woken up in worse shape than before, day after day, for weeks.

Her mind was absolutely, constantly clouded with reminders of Norm. His notes to her were still in a little pile on the corner of her desk. She’d swear that she saw him pass by her office, or that she heard him in the cafeteria. It got even worse when they actually interacted. Even if the moments were fleeting, the giddiness of talking to him would bubble into her throat, forcing her to trip over her words and make a fool of herself. It was always disastrous, and she’d done her best to quell the feelings entirely. She couldn’t keep embarrassing herself, especially after she’d choked on her own water in front of Hank and Betty. Or, when she’d nearly fallen off a stage after a presentation, since he’d come to personally congratulate her.

After all, they were friends. Good friends, friends since childhood, if she ignored the decade in between. There was nothing between them, and she had to stop being such a creep. There were more important things to worry about, one of which she was in the midst of preparing for.

Vault-Tec had just wrapped up filming its first set of trailers involving Cooper Howard, the insanely popular actor that starred in many westerns. Elodie was well aware of who he was, not just due to his movies, but because Lucy never stopped talking about him. Elodie never really saw a younger Lucy as a fangirl, but it made sense after a few months of knowing her adult self. She’d go on and on about how well he delivered his lines, or how perfectly he’d embody his character no matter how complex the scene may be. So, of course, she’d somehow managed to weasel her way onto one of the trailer shoots, and had even been casted as an extra in two of them. The next few days were, then, entirely filled with remarks about how kind he was in person, how his little daughter was the sweetest, and how Lucy envied the relationship between him and his wife, Barb.

It made sense, then, that Lucy had snagged an invite to the wrap party at the Howards’ estate. She was a part of the shoots, and it definitely helped that she was a MacLean. It made much less sense, though, that Elodie was also invited, as Lucy insisted she’d come along and enjoy herself. Elodie had never met Cooper Howard. Nor had Elodie ever met Barb Howard, their literal regional executive officer. Elodie wasn’t even sure that either of them knew that she existed, but here she was, putting on her finest fabrics and jewelry to hopefully make a good first impression.

Not like it really mattered, since she was likely going to stick to Lucy’s side and let her do all of the talking. It wasn’t like any of these people were going to remember her anyways. Not when Lucy MacLean was there. Elodie was surprised that the higher-ups hadn’t decided to use her as a spokeswoman yet.

Elodie sighed, watching herself carefully in the mirror. Her hair, the color of which always reminded her of mushrooms, was perfectly curled, adorned with her favorite clip to keep her bangs out of her face. She’d managed to find a well-fitting, fancy dress that didn’t break the bank, for which she considered herself incredibly lucky. It was even luckier that it was in her color, a brilliant shade of deep red that made her green eyes pop.

She pursed her lips, smacking them once before she heard the distant sound of a car horn. Ignoring the worm in her brain that told her to stay inside forever, she grabbed her small clutch and made her way to the door. Making someone else late was something she couldn’t stand, especially for such an important event.

Lucy's car was nice and quaint, albeit at least three years newer than Elodie’s. The woman’s face was kind as she gestured to the passenger seat, on which Elodie quickly sat.

“I love your dress,” Lucy said, smiling. “It looks nice on you. Red's your color.”

“Thank you, I got it from a cute dress shop downtown. The one with...”

Elodie paused, looking at Lucy’s outfit. It was a beautiful baby blue color, which made Lucy's hair and eyes pop. But, then again, Elodie was sure she’d seen Lucy in every shade of every color, and she’d looked good in all of them. She’d probably gone to a higher-end store than Elodie had. Oh, to have a Vault-Tec executive as a dad. It came with loads of perks.

“The one with the owl logo.”

“Oh, I think I know which one you’re talking about. I haven’t been there.”

“We can go together, if there’s ever another fancy gala we have to attend.”

“Oh, Elodie, they can get so much fancier than this. One time, I had to go to a black tie wedding for some executive, because they knew my dad and invited the whole family. That was fancy. I felt bad even stepping on their floors.”

“So, going to the house of a celebrity isn't fancy? Not just any celebrity, your celebrity crush? Cooper Howard’s house?”

“Ugh, it’s not a celebrity crush! I just… I respect his skills!”

“Oh, Cooper Howard, you’re so good at act-”

Lucy's right hand flew off the wheel, swatting the back of Elodie’s chest. The latter began laughing, a rolling giggle that didn’t bode well for the former.

“Shut up, Elodie. You’re worse than Norm sometimes!”

Elodie’s giggles slowly died out, helped, in part, by the fact that her stomach had done a somersault, like they’d gone over a speed bump despite the miles of smooth paved roads.

She decided to gloss over it, swallowing her anxiety as she shifted the topic to the party. It, too, riddled her with anxiety, as she was definitely not in the right tax bracket, or even position at work, to be attending such an event. But Lucy assured her it’d be fine, and Elodie tried her best to believe her.

The belief waned when they pulled into the driveway and discovered that the rather expansive house was already overflowing. People were scattered across the lawns and throughout the house proper, which had large and prevalent windows overlooking the grounds. Waiters walked in between each guest, all carrying a variety of foods and drinks. The entire thing reeked of opulence, a level of which Elodie was wholly unprepared for.

Hell, there was even valet parking, cementing the idea that Elodie was way out of her league here.

“Does this count as networking?”

If Vault-Tec was at all kind, this would free her from all business events for the next month. It was unlikely, but she could hope.

“Kinda,” Lucy said, grinning. “It won’t be too bad, Elodie. I promise!”

The scientist didn’t reply, nervously fidgeting with the ends of her gloves. There was no way in hell that this would go well. Practically everyone here was her boss. One wrong move, and her entire career would be in shambles.

The closer they got to the house, the more she realized that coming with Lucy wasn’t the worst idea in the world, but it also wasn’t the best. She was far more talkative than Elodie, which was nice, as she’d lead the conversation. As a consequence, though, she’d constantly start these conversations. Elodie had no idea who half of these people were, but she’d keep her head down, smile, and nod along. If necessary, she'd introduce herself, and add in her own two cents whenever needed. It was honestly down to a science, albeit a draining one that took everything in her to keep her lips upturned and her mind focused.

To Elodie, it felt as if it took them an hour to reach the actual building, which was also overflowing with people. Lucy managed to weave her way through the hallways, occasionally stopping and chatting with people. Inside, there were more waiters with various finger foods and cocktails, so Elodie found herself snatching treats from different plates and unceremoniously shoving them in her mouth. They were all delicious, of course, but she quickly found a favorite in the deviled eggs.

“Elodie.”

“Hm?”

She raised an eyebrow as she looked at Lucy.

“I’m gonna step out for a bit, need to fix my makeup.”

Lucy followed that up with a wink, forcing Elodie’s eyebrows downwards. Her makeup looked fine. She’d only sipped on one glass of champagne, there was no way that her lipstick had even gotten messed up. Her confusion was apparently not palpable enough, though, as Lucy skittered away into the house in search of… something. A bathroom, maybe?

Elodie quickly, then, tried to find something to do. Her nails were freshly done, so there was no way to default to her usual nail-picking habit. She didn't have a book, nor did she have her Pip-Boy, which she’d gotten a few holotape games for. She knew Steph was here, but she wasn’t friendly enough with the blonde to warrant seeking her out. There was always the possibility of people-watching, but that’d come off worse than intended. She felt an itch, too, to find a window and watch the partygoers mingling around the pool, but she knew Lucy would never find her if that happened.

She sighed, looking down at her glass of wine before taking a sip. She scanned the room, trying to find something to focus her eyes on. There was a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, and a coffee table that was currently holding up a few board games and magazines. She swore Woody, a coworker from the HR department, was talking with Reg, who was also from the HR department, in the set of chairs across the room, but there were far too many people between them and her. Besides, they’d only had a few conversations, specifically when Woody wanted to hear Elodie’s opinions on staff appreciation baskets, and when Reg scolded her for using too much salt from the break room salt shaker.

She sighed, swirling around her glass and staring past them, only to realize that…

Right behind them was Norman MacLean.

He seemed clearly disinterested in whatever conversation they were having, given the way he leaned back against the wall and swirled whatever liquid was in his cup. He looked up and locked eyes with her, expression morphing from frustrated annoyance to something Elodie couldn’t quite interpret.

She felt as if she was swallowing rocks. Literal rocks, digging into the sides of her throat and pooling in her stomach, weighing her down and making everything about her sluggish. Maybe it was the alcohol. Or maybe it was the fact she was like a ten-year-old schoolkid with their first crush.

Was he her first crush, back then? She couldn't remember. They were inseparable, but maybe that was because of her tendency to latch onto specific people and only talk to them. It was handy in social situations they went to as a pair, but incredibly detrimental anytime she went somewhere without them. They’d gone to the school dances together. He was the first person she danced with. They learned in gym and got embarrassed when they had to hold hands, but they still won, since all of their peers kept stumbling over each other’s feet.

She was hoping he didn't turn into that again, but there was a nagging feeling in her gut that drew her towards him. He seemed to feel it, too, with the way he motioned with his head for her to come over.

She shook her head. Even if Lucy was a social butterfly who could easily survive this party on her own, Elodie didn't want to go and disappear before she came back. Norm rolled his eyes, pushing himself off the wall as he made his way towards her.

The rocks turned into boulders. It was becoming terminal. She might be dead by the time he made it over here.

“Hey, Elodie.”

She looked down at him, fully surprised she was still alive, awake, and standing up. All in that order, and all at once.

“Hey. What’re you doing here?”

His eyes flickered over her entire being before landing back on her face.

“Lucy invited me. If you see her, tell her that I’m hating every minute of this.”

“She'll be back, so you can tell her yourself,” Elodie replied, carefully watching as one of his fingers ran over the patterned exterior of the glass he was holding.

“I was wondering why she didn't drive in with me,” he said, eyes trained on her. “You were her guest, I’m guessing.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be. I’m not mad. If I was, it’d be Lucy’s fault anyways, since she told me as she was leaving that she was picking someone up and couldn’t drive me.”

He took a sip from his glass before continuing.

“It’s good, though. I can leave without asking her first. She tends to stay at these things for way too long.”

“She’s more social than both of us, I can’t blame her,” Elodie said, sighing softly. “But I’m glad to know now that I’ll be stuck here with her.”

“I can drive you home,” he said, blinking a few times as he looked up at her. “If you want me to, we can leave whenever.”

“I-I don’t want to force you.”

“I offered, El.”

“I had to make sure,” she said, feeling her face heat up. “Sorry. Just being here is… draining. It’s a lot for my brain to process.”

She didn't want to admit he was part of the reason her brain was so fuzzy. That part was on a need-to know basis, and he wasn’t going to be the first person she’d tell.

“Do you want to leave now?”

“I, uh…”

God, his eyes. His eyelashes curled ever-so-slightly upwards, a contrast to the strength of his eyebrow ridge. It made him look curious, tired, and handsome all at the same time. And, when he looked up, it only accentuated the roundness of his eyes themselves.

If she was honest with herself, she wanted nothing more than to leave with him, especially if he kept looking at her like that.

“I don’t want to leave without telling Lucy first,” she said as she leaned towards him. She dropped her voice to a whisper as she continued, “Won’t people become suspicious when we disappear? Together?”

“I don’t think anyone’s paying attention, El,” he said, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “Why? Don’t want to be associated with me?”

She swallowed sharply, hoping it’d clear the lump in her throat. He was probably just being an asshole, but there was still a chance he didn’t understand the implications at all. He was a man, so these sorts of things likely never passed through his mind. It didn't matter much if a man left with a woman, and, if anything, he’d be congratulated. If she were to leave with him, her public image was more likely to grow negative. And even still, they’d forever be attached in the back of some people’s minds, forever the two who left without saying goodbye and disappeared down the road. They’d watch whenever they talked, a careful eye prying into their conversations.

There was a chance, though, that Norm just… didn’t mind the association. It was in character for him, but she refused to believe he’d be okay with others thinking they were together.

An item.

The sheer proximity to him coupled with such a thought was making her breath shallow.

“I… I just worry. I don’t want to get reported to HR.”

“Most people here aren’t paying attention to us,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “I won’t force you, but I promise, it isn’t as serious as your anxiety thinks it is.”

“How do you know what my anxiety is thinking?”

“Because I know you, Elodie. I can tell you’re worried about what people think, because your head is on a swivel and you keep looking around at people who aren’t looking back.”

She pursed her lips, and clicked her tongue.

“Stalker.”

“I'm perceptive,” he said, scoffing but seemingly smiling. “Most people aren’t. I promise, you won’t get fired or socially outcast for leaving early. Especially not here.”

She hated how easily he could see through her. He was too good at lucky guesses, at looking into her mind and cleaning away the gunk that resided there.

“Fine,” she said, grumbling. “As long as we get something to eat. There’s not enough real food here. Like burgers.”

“I know a place you’ll like,” he said, finishing the rest of his drink. “Avenue Diner. Best burgers in the city.”

“You know a lot of places, and each time, you say I’ll like it.”

“I enjoy exploring and trying new things. From my understanding, you also like trying new things. And I know what you hate.”

“Like what?”

“Melted cheese. Arugula. Mint. You don't like when-”

“Oh, Norm!”

Elodie stepped back, smoothing out the front of her dress despite the fact that all she’d done is stand. Norm didn’t seem to react at all, and Elodie eyed him quizzically.

“Hey, Lucy,” he replied, raising an eyebrow. “We’re leaving.”

“What? Oh, Elodie, don’t tell me he convinced you to leave,” his sister replied, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re a bad influence, Norm.”

“No, no, I uh… my stomach doesn’t feel great, actually. Norm’s just going to bring me home.”

“My brother? Being kind? What’s gotten into you?”

Lucy leaned over, ruffling his hair a bit. He groaned, swatting her hand away as he realigned the messed-up strands.

“You know I’m kind.”

“When you want to be, yes,” Lucy grinned, clapping her hands together. “Well, I hope you two have fun. And don’t get into any trouble.”

She mockingly pointed her finger at both of them, which made Elodie’s face heat up. Norm rolled his eyes and tucked his hands into his pant pockets.

“We’re driving for like, fifteen minutes tops. I don’t want her throwing up in my car.”

He looked at Elodie, and she swore he winked.

“Still, stay safe, okay?”

“Okay, Lucy,” he said, halfheartedly grinning at his sister. It was a genuine smile, as far as Elodie could tell, but one that showed a hint of exasperation.

“I’ll see you both later, okay? And, Elodie, don’t let him pull you into something stupid, okay? Get home and rest up.”

“Got it.”

“She’ll be fine, Lucy. See you at home,” he said, motioning towards the door. “Come on, El. Let’s get you home.”

She sheepishly grinned, thanking Lucy for inviting her before skittering after Norm. He looked back, briefly, and chuckled.

“I hope you don’t mind being associated with the resident flake.”

“I enjoy it,” she said, her heels clicking on the tile as she walked next to him. Even if he was shorter than her, he had quite the quick pace. “I also really appreciate that I didn’t have to stay until midnight.”

“It sucks, trust me,” he replied, offering his hand as they made it to a set of stairs. Without much other choice, she accepted, face turning red as his fingers wrapped around hers.

It was something out of a fairytale, and she tried her damndest to keep her heart from beating out of her chest. One foot in front of the other, that's all she had to do, and yet she still felt the back of her heel slip off the edge of a stair, forcing her to grip his hand even harder and yelp in surprise.

“You okay?”

There he was, with his eyes wide again. It made her mouth dry, especially combined with how quickly his other hand found her waist and steadied her on the staircase.

“I-I am,” she said, nervously swallowing. She placed a hand on his shoulder, trailing it down his arm before turning away. “Sorry about that.”

“You’re ok,” he said, voice gentle and barely above a whisper. “I don’t mind.”

She felt like she was going to fall down the stairs again, crumpled into a pile at the bottom. She couldn't take it. She wanted him, and his kindness was only making that worse.

It was taking everything in her to not step a bit closer, to not let herself fully fall and be caught by him. He’d pick her up, just like he’d done months ago when he thought she was some invader in his house, rifling through his family photos. Despite his abrasive personality, he was always looking out for her, and this wasn’t any exception.

His hand stayed on the small of her back. Her hand stayed in his, and his thumb gently caressed her flushed skin as they waited for the valet to fetch his car. They were well past the stairs when she’d realized, his hand disappearing from hers to open the passenger-side door. It returned, briefly, so that he could help her take a seat, and stayed distant as he settled in and began to drive.

She couldn’t help but fixate on the way his fingers gripped the steering wheel. She hoped and prayed to every god that he felt the same, because her thoughts were becoming incredibly irresistible.

Norman MacLean was going to be the death of her, and she was starting to enjoy it.

#norm maclean #fallout tv #normelodie #fallout #oc x canon #the great experiment - apoweroutlet #fallout on prime

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voidwolf6277 · 7 months ago

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Hey everyone! I’m Phantom or Void; either one works. I’m 22, so I only roleplay with other adults. I’m fine with any pronouns, but mostly use she/they. I’m in the EST but tend to stay up late. I’m Black mixed and queer, and most of my ocs are as well.

I do both fandom and original roleplays. I like to do oc x cc and oc x oc pairings and prefer to double when it comes to oc x cc. I’m also cool with poly/multi-ships and crossovers.

I guess I'm a semi-lit to lit writer; I don't really have a set number of words I write. I try to match the amount of whoever I'm rping with, but I guess, on average, I can write 2-5 paragraphs. I have reached the discord nitro limit a few times. Novella is currently a bit much for me, though. I don't really mind how much you write; just give me something to work with. I'm fine with doing NSFW rps. Kinks and stuff can be discussed during plotting.

Depending on how I feel, I can send multiple replies in a day, but that heavily depends on how I feel. I do have a life outside of rp. I have class and a job. I will try to let you know if I can't reply or if I might be gone for a while.

My fandoms and love interests are below the cut.

My discord is phantomwolf627. Just let me know you're from here and saw this when reaching out.

My Hero Academia - I'm about to start season 7. I do know the spoilers and how the series ends. I still need to watch the movies.

Love Interests - Katsuki Bakugou, Touya Todoroki/Dabi, Tomura Shigaraki, Shoto Todoroki, Keigo/Hawks, Shota Aizawa, Rumi Usagiyama/Mirko

Bungou Stray Dogs - I'm caught up on the anime.

Love Interests - Dazai, Chuuya

Dungeon Meshi - I finished the anime and manga.

Love Interests - Laios, Toshiro, Mithrun, Lycion, Kabru, Marcille

Fullmetal Alchemist - I've watched both series.

Love Interests - Envy, Roy Mustang, Greed, Edward

One Punch Man - I'm caught up on the anime, currently watching through the extras and reading the manga.

Love Interests - Genos, Speed - O - Sound Sonic, Garou

Demon Slayer - I'm currently on the swordsmithing village arc.

Love Interests - Kyojuro Rengoku, Giyuu Tomioka, Tengen Uzui, Obani Iguro

Jujutsu Kaisen - I'm caught up with the anime and almost done with the manga.

Love Interests - Gojo, Toji, Choso, Geto, Sukuna, Nanami, Megumi

Beastars - I'm caught up on the anime and reading the manga along with Beast Complex.

Love interests - Melon, Agata, Legoshi, Louis, Ibuki, Free, Haru, Seven, Juno, Pina

Creepypasta - I'm familiar with most of the creepypastas

Love Interests - Jeff the killer, Homicidal Lui, Eyeless Jack, Ticci Toby, Jane the killer

Pokemon - I've played from black and white to Legends Arceus. I'm still playing through Violet. I've also played all the mystery dungeon games.

Love Interests - There are too many to list so just ask. I'm fine with doing oc x oc pairings for this.

Venture Bros - I finished the series and movie.

Love Interests - Pete White, Dean Venture, Hank Venture, Henchman 21/Gary, The Monarch and Councilwoman, Dr. Mrs. The Monarch (I can only see these two as a package deal)

Here's my full fandom list - https://docs.google.com/document/d/14E7TN0xgjlDGjUaoB6aX3OT5_CN2i_5LF0cMjC6yJKs/edit?usp=sharing

#mha rp #bnha rp #my hero academia rp #dungeon menshi rp #delicious in dungeon rp #dunmeshi rp #fma rp #fullmetal alchemist rp #jujutsu kaisen rp #jjk rp #pokemon rp #demon slayer rp #kny rp #beastars rp #beastars roleplay #rp blog

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heliphantie · 11 months ago

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"Inside Out 2"

I've watched “Inside Out 2”, and there’s my notes:

Conflict expands on themes of first movie, and if the moral of first was, difficult and discomfortable emotions and memories are as important for personal growth as positive ones, here it is about not giving away basic emotions and good memories even while growing and building personality and ambitions. I’d say conflict of IO was executed in better organized form and it was easier to follow as it unrolled, but it’s a general flaw of sequels. It wasn’t so bad.

Interestingly, antagonist is motivated by striving for better future, which mainstream media usually reserves for protagonist. As someone who is critical to “destroy the past, build future on the ruins of it” philosophy pushed by media as role model, I can say I welcome this twist in formula. Pixar in general seems to handle “Well-Intentioned Extremist” trope decently, be it antagonists or antiheroes. Even characters who could be villainous in regular media defied expectations. (I honestly expected Val ending to be “bad influence”, in typical fashion for “cool kids” trope, but she’s ended to be sympathetic character throughout the movie and not the source of conflict.)

Main 5 kept (mostly) together for the length of movie gives room for interactions and dynamics that were limited in first one. Breakout star, unexpectedly for me, is Anger, he had the funniest scenes. I generally like the characters like that (Grumpy the dwarf, octopus Hank, Gabo in Wish… you got idea), but can’t say he was enjoyable to this extent in first movie. Maybe he just better works as foil for someone with opposite personality, rather than with somebody like Disgust and Fear.

Speaking about antagonists, I felt there was potential in Envy, even guessed if she ends to be twist villain before the first trailer. In the end, new emotions somehow turned less interesting personality-wise compared to old ones. There are still opportunities for the franchise unfolding, so likely their spotlights are in due course.

References/memetic moments in regard to first movie are scarce, but ones that happen are fairly unexpected (like cameo of certain brick joke), and don’t linger too long. There is also some shipteasing sprinkled over (but not too overt), which wasn’t a thing in original. (Mount Crashmore was a biggest surprise, by the way.)

One thing carried on from IO is, fairly hilarious one scene wonders, my favorite is one that wasn’t spoilered by promos, you know which if you have seen it) Worthy successor of Brazilian helicopter pilot. (I feel fans are going to have a field day with them…)

Another unexpected moment is the scene that seems to be an explicit dig at industry of which the movie is a product. Animators that rebel when main five encourage them to let imagination run free as opposed to following demands of Anxiety who’s obsessed with sticking to trends in pursuit of success. One can wonder what it was about…

Conclusion: enjoyable movie, which doesn’t even seem forced, as it happens so often with sequels. It even appears to left open for further expansion, and I smell mini-series, maybe? It’s a good concept to be mined, frankly.

Oh, and I’ve got idea I couldn’t wait to work on so I didn’t wait for the movie to get released and started it in advance and almost done with. So… does it count as fanart if it doesn’t involve the setting and characters of thing, but deals with central concept of it? Anyway, soon.

#inside out 2 #pixar #disney pixar #movie review #phantie reviews #phantie ramblings

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gravedigest · 11 months ago

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Thinking about Victor, and how he has rig and chrome envy. And how he can ask San and Dei about it (and technically other people but they’re not relevant rn). And just the lack of information he gets from it all

San has chrome but no rig, and it’s a chrome he has to keep shape for. He also has no desire for a rig. Meanwhile, Dei has both but can’t give a comparison since he’s never had anything else, plus he know how to mess with himself, how to hack himself to make it better.

And Victor can only get so much info out of both. Again, he can ask other people, I just find it interesting that he can ask those two but get almost nothing out it. It’s interesting to me. Vic is interesting

Also just, Dei is the spice in Vic’s life. That’s a little thing in the back skittering about

Victor asks Hank what chrome is like and all he gets is a blank stare because Hank doesn’t know what chrome is like. Man that has a computer just to use the calendar.

They can probably get the complaints about chrome across pretty easily, like it’s easy to put into words stuff like “Yeah, my arm acts up if i twist it like this, I gotta yank it this way so my fingers uncurl,” or “There’s so many popups happening right now it feels like my eyeballs are turning inside out.”

But like, trying to explain what it looks like or feels like would be like trying to explain a sense someone doesn’t have, like if someone can’t smell but all you have to describe scents are other scents. You can sorta get it across like this smells warm or this smells cold, but thats kind of the only comparison you can get (unless you’ve got synesthesia, then theres a whole new world of comparisons you can make to stuff)

It’s neat.

I wanna write more Victor POV later on when I get the next part out, I think. Just kinda hard cause I’m tryna build him a solid foundation to work off of irt characterization and what very little we know about him, and he’s sort of easier to work with as non POV.

Victor gets his enrichment by watching Deimos be a weird little guy. Watching your cat watching tv and being like “what is he thinking?”

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mcmusing · 2 years ago

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Unlike ALL of their sequels, I'm not anti First Class. However, as more time passes, it's beyond clear that being the best X-Men movie truly isn't saying much. These flicks almost always fumble the ball in making mutants sympathetic, but following the CIA massacre, a severe lack of logic plagues characterization, especially regarding Raven and Erik. More on them momentarily.

While the massacre is a nicely filmed scene, its aftermath is handled terribly. To a jarring degree, considering the realistic emotions during it. Remember that in 1962, Pearl Harbor would be as fresh in many people's memories as 9/11 is to us now. An attack on an entire CIA facility to that magnitude would be another day of infamy. An executive order would have been issued to track and lock down mutants all over the country, complete with anti-mutant riots in the street. The really sad part is that because of how mercilessly ruthless the hellfire club was, there would be more arguments to justify the backlash than oppose it. Is it any wonder those different military forces attempted to bomb that beach?

Also regarding Shaw's band, how can anyone watch such overpowered beings needlessly stab, shoot, and burn all of those defenseless people and feel even an ounce of pity for mutants? Shaw's grandiose speech about how they will all eventually be captured and enslaved is utterly laughable, especially coming from him. This version of Shaw has powers so overblown that he could have single-handedly taken down the nazi regime, liberated those camps, and given mutation a heroic image. But no, somehow donning a swastika, torturing a mutant child, and trying to nuke the planet seemed like the superior strategies. It's exactly the same with Erik and those missiles. If he had simply seized and hurled them far away into the water, he would have proven that mutation itself is not the enemy. He and Surrogate Nazi Daddy both started something then wanted to play victim when their self-made enemies retaliated.

On the subject of Shaw Jr., it is reasonable that Erik would be wary of the CIA possibly having ulterior motives and hooking Charles up to random machines. However, with the massacre on top of learning that both he and Shaw are mutants, why isn't Erik disgusted with his very existence? Why does he automatically take a prideful stance? His powers are what got him on Shaw's radar in the first place, Shaw killed his very human mother, Erik turned out to be mutated like his tormentor, and said tormentor led a gang of other mutants in a murder spree against dozens of people who only wanted to capture Shaw, including the agent who housed and advocated for them. HOW does any of that add up to being anti-homo sapien, let alone pro-mutant? This is why Erik's longtime nemesis had absolutely NO business being a mutant! If anything, he should have been a regular human who wanted to exploit and recreate mutant powers in himself out of envy.

Onto Raven, her kitchen conversation with Charles already made no sense with that asinine "pets are always cuter when they're little, right?" remark. You're making that accusation towards someone who introduces you as his sister after a guy you hardly know just compared you to a tiger and encouraged you to walk around naked like some undignified lesser being? However, what really piles on the stupid is when she claims "no matter how bad the world gets, you don't want to be against it, do you?" WHAT is this bad of which she speaks? The worst deed she personally witnessed was committed by mutants, something that openly horrified her. What, is she referring to those two agents who mildly teased them a little? The one desperate agent who offered up the young mutants only after watching the cruel murders of his colleagues? Or is the bad all the people who Hank- another mutant- pointed out will never find her blue form beautiful? Something no one is required to feel towards her and something most would be unable to do due to biological evolutionary reasons that govern the laws of attraction. Absolutely nothing justifies her turn to Team Terrorism.

In trying to make Charles out to be this franchise's 'uncle Tom' of sorts, all they ended up doing was making Erik and Raven into glory-seeking, narcissistic, nonsensical, opportunistic, narrow-minded bigots.

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rynnthefangirl · 1 year ago

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My Top 10 Favorite Breaking Bad Universe Episodes (+ explanations/analyses because I can't not gush about these shows dammit)

"Face Off" (BrBa, S4E13)- this episode had me on the edge of my seat like no other one in the entire BrBa universe. It's not my favorite in terms of themes or character development-- which are my usual priorities in a show-- but good god, it was an EXPERIENCE. And it held up SO GOOD on rewatch, even knowing how it ends the pacing and buildup is done so phenomenally that it almost feels like watching it for the first time. It's just epic. And that final scene... coming off the thrill of watching an evil villain like Gus Fring be defeated... relishing in Walt's victory and relief... then the camera slowly tracking inward to reveal the Lily of the Valley.... that sudden shift as you realize the guy you were just aggressively rooting for is a monster as well... Oh my god. Perfection.

"Ozymandias" (BrBa, S5E14)- do I even need to explain why I love this episode? It's often regarded as the best episode in this universe, and for good reason. It is Walter White's downfall, the epic culmination of 4 1/2 seasons of steady moral degradation, the consequences of Walter's greed and ego finally brought to horrific fruition. This is one of only two episodes in the BrBa universe to actually make me cry (the other being "Granite State", when Walt Jr. tells his father he should just go and die). Hank's death is abrupt and horrible. "I watched Jane die" makes ME want to go die. Walt's fight with Skyler is both devastating and somehow cathartic. The acting is some of the best I have seen in my entire life. It truly is the peak of Breaking Bad, and there will never be anything else quite like it (although my #3 comes close).

"Plan and Execution" (BCS, S6E7)- this episode is so effective, that I could barely even stand to rewatch it. And not just Howard's death, but everything building up to it. Watching Howard suffer and be humiliated, knowing all the while that this is his last day on Earth. That this is how he is spending his final hours. And the fact that the whole thing has the fun and whacky tone of the other McWexler scams makes me want to throw up. Watching an oblivious Jimmy and Kim dig both Howard's and their own graves with joy and gusto. The inevitability of it all too, how every little detail conspires to put Howard and Lalo in that room together. I never thought a cockroach scampering across a screen could make me want to scream, but here we are. It's honestly unbearable. And then of course the final scene is breathtakingly brilliant. Howard's amazing speech, the sudden tonal shift, the horror of his death. The candle. And this all barely even touches on what it means for Jimmy and Kim's characters, but this is getting long enough, so lets just leave it at P&E is their very own Ozymandias.

"Chicanery" (BCS, S3E5)- I love how perfectly rated Chicanery is in the fandom. I feel like an episode like this would be prone to being totally overshadowed by the more action-packed ones, and I'm so glad that it isn't. Because it is brilliant. To me, Chuck and Jimmy's relationship is the single most compelling dynamic in the BrBa universe. And this is their ultimate showdown, both giving their all to take the other down, Chuck with righteous glee and Jimmy with bitter reluctance. Chuck's final breakdown/monologue is incredible both in terms of writing and acting-- this is the moment we see Chuck McGill for who he really is. Years of bitterness, and jealousy, and frustration, and desperation, finally let loose. And while Jimmy won, it's not a triumphant victory. It's a somber one. Because like Kim said, all they did was tear down a mentally ill man. A man who needed help, beneath all the hatred and envy. Aghh. Chuck.

"Felina" (BrBa, S5E16)- I love the vibe of Felina. There's just this palpaple tiredness and resigned acceptance from Walter. He destroyed his family, they will never forgive him, he is going to die alone. He has realized his ego and selfishness, but it's too late. Everyone is just sitting in the ashes of the world they once knew. And yet, with that acceptance, there also comes a sense of peace. Nothing left to do but make things right in whatever way he still can. Finding a way to get his money to his family, admitting to Skyler that "I did it for me", seeing Holly and Jr. one last time, avenging Hank's death. Then there's Jesse and his resolution, "do it yourself", him crying and screaming and laughing as he drives away, a well earned freedom. The final shot of Walt is bittersweet in the best possible way. A conclusion worthy of the phenomenal series that came before it (rip GOT but BrBa is different).

"Waterworks" (BCS, S6E12)- where Saul Gone is the resolution of Jimmy's arc, Waterworks is the resolution of Kim's. And I think Kim's ending hits me harder, because while we always knew that Jimmy would break bad, Kim's corruption felt like such a betrayal. And it made it all the more sweeter when she redeems herself and begins to come back from that dark place she was in. The Florida scenes were utterly unnerving in how empty Kim was, but then it was so cathartic to see her finally let all that emotion out (and Rhea Seehorn absolutely KILLED IT, she was ROBBED at the Emmy's). Her scene with Jesse was beautiful too, and a perfect example of how to do fan-service in a meaningful way. Also, as a devoted Howard Hamlin stan, I loved seeing him haunt the narrative and watching Cheryl stand up for him again.

"Saul Gone" (BCS, S6E13)- another excellent and worthy conclusion to an amazing show! Jimmy is one of my favorite characters, and like with Kim, it was so beautiful to see him find himself again. I'm very fascinated by Jimmy's coping mechanisms for his grief & guilt, and this episode is where we see them finally be torn down. The whole confession scene is wonderful, A+ writing and acting. Particularly him finally saying out loud that his actions led to Chuck's suicide -- that knowledge has controlled Jimmy for the past three seasons, and him facing it at last is the final nail in the coffin for Saul Goodman. Saul is Gone, and Jimmy McGill remains. I love it.

"Lantern" (BCS S3E10)- this one killed me on rewatch. Watching Chuck completely unravel and destroy his home after he was finally on the road to recovery from his mental illness. Howard and Chuck's falling out, with Howard's pain in having to force Chuck out of HHM and Chuck's pain in losing the last good relationship that he still had in his life. "You've never mattered all that much to me."🫠💔 Chuck's suicide, and knowing how it will haunt the narrative, how it will lead to Howard's destruction in P&E and Jimmy's transformation into Saul Goodman. Daggers. The whole episode - Daggers.

"Fly" (BrBa S3E10)- I am so so glad this episode exists. It wasn't necessary towards the plot at all, but it's such a wonderful little character study. The first half is comedic gold, some of my favorite whacky Walt + Jesse banter. Then the slow shift to the more somber and pensive tone as the sleeping pills set in. Everything is just dripping with importance and symbolism. Especially "it's all contaminated" -- one of my favorite lines in the whole show. And Walt’s speech about the perfect moment for him to have died... I don't even know the word for what that evokes in me. "Beautiful" doesn't cut it. It's ethereal.

"Peekaboo" (BrBa S2E6)- if I wanted to show someone why I love Jesse Pinkman and could only pick one episode to do it, Peekaboo would be that episode. It so perfectly encapsulates his character. Jesse goes to a house to threaten and get money from two junkies, and spends the entire episode trying to look after their neglected child. His conscience and decency at constant odds with the necessity of appearing strong and dangerous. And this is reinforced by the episode's bookends - Jesse delights in a small bug before Skinny P comes along and squishes it, foreshadowing the horror of Spooge getting his head squashed. Jesse is a sensitive soul scrambling for control in a world of the blackest violence. I'm so glad it never was able to fully consume him.

Honorable mentions:

"Point and Shoot" (BCS S6E8) and "Fun and Games" (BCS S6E9)- I feel so bad leaving both of these out of the top 10, because they are such phenomenal episodes. But I feel like my favorite moments are scattered across them and "Plan and Execution", and it's really the triad of episodes that makes up one of my favorite arcs in either show. So as individual episodes they don't quite outrank the others I have, but in spirit they are definitely up there sharing the #3 spot with P&E.

"Better Call Saul" (BrBa S2E8) and "4 Days Out" (BrBa S2E9)- I have to give a shoutout to two of my favorite chaotic and hilarious Breaking Bad episodes. Walt and Jesse's dynamic is so perfect in 4 Days Out, and Saul absolutely killed his introduction to this universe (+ the additional heartbreak of rewatching knowing why he was so freaked out about Lalo).

#breaking bad #better call saul #face off #ozymandias #plan and execution #chicanery #felina #waterworks #saul gone #lantern #fly #peekaboo #walter white #jimmy mcgill #jesse pinkman #chuck mcgill #howard hamlin #kim wexler

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voxxgrimly · 1 year ago

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The Impression That I Get (Ch. 1)

CHAPTER 1

One Headlight

Monday, November 21st, 2005 (10:30 AM)

“Come up for Christmas, Henry.”

Calloused fingers pinched the bridge of his nose— dislodging his rectangular glasses. Eyes closed, he leaned back; broad shoulders met the backrest of his leather office chair with a dull ‘poff’. “Were wishes fishes, Charles.” The baritone of Henry McCoy, Secretary of Mutant Affairs, rumbled over a shiny cellphone set to speaker. “With the encroachment of Registration perceptually looming in the senate…?” The large, blue mutant huffed a rueful breath and set his lips into a firm line before deigning to speaking again. “I would prefer the Bahamas. Perchance Cuba?”

That was just being cruel.

“I apologize, Charles.” Hank groaned, then leaned forward onto his cherry wood desk elbows first.

His old friend’s voice hummed over the speaker; cultivated and longanimous– patient. Sometimes Hank envied him his wisdom; his telepathic cosmos. And then he reminded himself that his anxiety would never stand for it.

“The students would be elated to see you, Hank. Your colleagues too. I would be.”

Damn the man for knowing every emotional string to towboat straight into his own favour. Hank tossed up a clawed hand. Charles couldn’t see it, he knew, but he assumed that his tone reflected his emotional state adequately regardless. “Fine! As you like it! Officious, antiquated–” Nearly at a loss for words, he audibly snapped his fangs shut. A growl bullied its way up from his barrel chest.

“Now, now. Don’t be like that, Henry.” He could hear the laughter in the professor’s voice; almost see the way his eyes sparkled. “When can we expect your arrival?”

“Don’t assume you’ve won just yet! It won’t be conceivable for me to exonerate myself from my obligations for at least a week. My secretary, Eleanor, would taxidermy me. She’s already threatening to convert my pelt into a rug.” Hank digressed swiftly; “Next Saturday at the earliest. Does this convenience you, Professor Xavier? Oh, dear friend of mine?”

“Very!” Now Charles’s giddiness was just presumptuous and, frankly, a little comical. Hank found the corners of his own mouth turned up with poorly disguised mirth.

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Tuesday, November 29th, 2005 (12:30 PM)

New York was frigid. The streets were slick with snow and while the impending holiday yielded twinkling lights and all manner of decorations, Hank could confidently confirm that the sidewalks were desolate for a city that normally bustled— veritably bursting at the seams with pedestrians. No one wanted to be out in that weather and he couldn’t blame them. He would have been content to count himself among those bundled up inside save for one important and unavoidable fact: He had procrastinated on his Christmas shopping.

The task was nearly completed, and with his stomach ‘singing the song of its people’, Henry pulled his SUV over to the curb the moment his blue eyes alighted upon a whimsical cafe. It was nestled in the middle of a line of quaint shops. They were the kind that had brick facings and bowed display windows with canopy awnings; delicate in details, strong in turn-of-the-century design.

He turned off the vehicle and immediately nudged up the sleeve of his coat. One claw pressed a subtle button on the side of his wristwatch and in the rearview mirror, Hank watched his visage blip, then shimmer.

The image inducer remained a bizarre exercise in nostalgia no matter how many times he engaged it; a reminder of how much he had changed. Despite the lack of boyish charm and the tell-tale signs of crow’s feet and smile lines, the shift from cerulean to brown (these days with a few smattered streaks of grey), never ceased to tug his heart strings.

Hank smoothed a hand over his chin strap beard and resolutely refused to look at himself on any reflective surface. Only rumination and self-depreciation would be his rewards for that. He was used to the blue– he was! While the image inducer was a necessity to not be mobbed in public, a trip down memory lane was decidedly not.

A book and his tablet tucked securely under one brawny arm, Hank nudged open the door to the cafe and was rewarded with warm lighting and a wave of homey aromas that wafted to him from across the room. His lashes danced and a sharp inhale revealed the smooth flavour of coffee and a tantalizing sweetness: Desserts. Cookies, cakes… oh, he had chosen perfection.

‘Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are.’ A helpful literary recollection– Jean Anthelme Brillat-Savarin could describe the most mundane with a mouthwatering enthusiasm. Particularly apt considering his position.

He needed to pull himself together.

Fishing glasses from the inner pocket of his coat, Henry perched them on his strong nose, stepped into the line for the counter and brought his touchscreen up to review that shopping list.

Ororo was certainly done and Charles too he could cross off. Scott was nearly complete. Then there was Logan; an infuriating man but a friend nonetheless. Something cheap and alcoholic? He seemed like the type.

Hank winced. No, that would not do! Cigars, then. Surely that imbecile could appreciate a Perdomo, and hopefully enough to get them through the encroaching season without trying to gouge out each other’s trachea.

Ruminating the perils of two ferals encroaching on unwillingly shared territory, Hank felt his hackles rise beneath the illusion of his image inducer when a short, soft, nigh fragile form jostled into his back.

He hadn’t heard a thing until the thump of books, a gasp and: “I’m so sorry!”

Whirling in a sharp turn, Hank darted down onto one knee without thought and forgoing so much as a glance; hands offering assistance. “Water under the bridge, my dear.” Then eyes finally canted over his glasses and the mutant-in-disguise was struck by the fact that this woman was stunning.

And so he paused.

Henry was about to add two more hefty textbooks to the load already wrapped in the girl’s arms when he paused– pity making him suck in his lower lip. “Let… me take these to a table for you.”

The girl gathered dark curls behind one ear and her hazel eyes flitted around the cafe. “Oh, no. I couldn’t–!”

“Then it’s fortuitous that I’m insisting!” Both heavy eyebrows ascended. Hank smiled, rising to his feet with a grunt; his chin soon nudged in the direction of an empty table by the window. “Sufficient?” “More than.” The woman’s shoulders dropped in relief. “I can’t thank you enough– and I’m the one that ran into you!”

Waving a hand, the burly man implied that, again, it was hardly a misdemeanor. In fact his eyes seemed far more preoccupied with the subject of the books temporarily in his retinue. “Journalism major?”

Seating herself, the woman indicated the chair across from her. It was out of politeness, he knew, but Hank took it gladly– casting his wool coat over the back while she offered a response. “Trying. Final year.”

A hum of sympathy offered; “Specialization…? If you don’t object to my curiosity.”

“Editorial. I know, I know– I’m a glutton for punishment!” Both of her hands gestured, and she crashed back into her chair– slumped inelegantly.

Hank hid a smile behind fingers that rubbed over the lower half of his face. “I’ve surmised from colleagues in the field that the workflow demand only increases after completion of your B.J.” He was teasing, naturally– eyes crinkled and shoulders in the telltale, silent motion of mirth. “Which makes it obvious why you bowled me over– caffeine necessitated a complete lack of etiquette!.”

“Oh– so you’re a comedian! Right, yeah– funny!” The woman huffed, if not impolitely. She seemed to enjoy the banter. “I thought that was– what did you call it? Water under the bridge?” One finger twisted a curl of her impeccable hair

Hank, despite having just been challenged, found the motion far too distracting. She truly was exquisite. Thankfully his stomach growled– sudden, loud and insistent. It was enough to pop him out of his staring with a few blinks and the sharp rise of his shoulders; back drawn stiff at the reminder that he wasn’t there to flirt with a stranger (he wasn’t). “Perchance, could I interest you in a coffee?”

Her lips twisted into a smile across the table. “Isn’t that a little fast? You don’t even know my name.”

Red flushed his cheeks like a tidalwave. It overtook his ears and right down his neck. Stars and garters–! He hated it when he blushed. “I didn’t mean it like that!”

He did mean it like that.

So much for verbose eloquence.

The beautiful, sophisticated woman who had found herself proficient in rendering Doctor Henry McCoy’s IQ dejectedly close to his shoe size pressed exactly two fingers to her lips– hazel eyes shimmering. Blessings upon blessings; she took pity on his mortal soul. “Charlotte. My name is Charlotte.”

Reaching over, Henry offered her his hand and an audible breath of relief. “Hank.Terrific to make your acquaintance, Charlotte.”

“Call me Lola, Hank.”

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Read More: https://archiveofourown.org/works/48750490/chapters/122975914

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AUTHOR'S NOTE

This story is an AU of The Last Stand combined with SOME comic elements and a LITTLE bit of Alternate Movie Timeline shenanigans. I pull stuff as I see fit and have fun! Enjoy!

I'll be posting a chapter per day / every other day until I catch up with my AO3! I'll also be posting my other Hank McCoy story titled Coffee, Tea or Me.

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STORY SUMMARY

Secretary Hank McCoy has traditionally spent the holidays alone. This year he’d been invited by Charles to the mansion for a celebration he wasn’t morally able to turn down.

During a trip to New York for presents, Hank stumbles across a human woman he just can’t seem to walk away from. It’s serendipity at its finest during a time of year when romance seems magical.

Lola, a Journalism major with innocent dreams of making the world a better place, finds herself attracted to a muscular, charismatic middle-aged man she runs into (quite literally) in her favourite cafe. He likes wearing fine suits. She's just trying to make it to the end of her final year.

There’s more than meets the eye, however, to the gentleman that’s caught HER eye. He isn’t what he seems and he’s hiding a very BLUE secret from her.

#hank mccoy #henry mccoy #xmen fandom #x-men #beast xmen #xmen fanfiction #beast

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