#I gave you my word charles come what may I will be true to it

[dracaelus]

From The Uncanny X-men #200

This godamn issue, I swear to god- !!

I'm crying my fucking heart out. This was just too good. It broke my heart

[golden-ebony]

Man Eater (3) 𓆩♡𓆪

♡ series masterlist ♡ previous part ♡

♡ Pairing: Logan Howlett/Fem!Vigilante!Reader

♡ Word Count: 3.0k

♡ Rating: Mature (but any additional parts may be explicit)

♡ Warning/Tags: fighting but by no means violent

♡ Summary: Leaving your past behind is never easy; teasing Logan makes it tolerable

♡ Note: i FINALLY have a proper vision for the series and i'm so so so excited!

It didn’t take you long to move into the X-mansion. You typically kept most of your things in storage, preferring to live out of a suitcase as you traveled from place to place. It always made it easier to leave on short notice if needed.

But you promised yourself you’d try to make it work at the school, hence moving all your belongings in. Leaving in the cover of night would be significantly harder now—unless you were willing to part with more than a few possessions.

In just a month, you’d settled into a permanent room and reacquainted yourself with your newfound teammates. Like Charles, they treated you with kindness and respect whenever your paths crossed. Occasionally, you even assisted them if it aligned with your own self-interest.

You had more interactions with Logan than anyone else. Despite knowing him for only a few weeks, you two were definitely getting closer. Friends? Maybe. True friendships were rare for you. Most of your relationships were transactional, impersonal. But with Logan, words weren’t always necessary to convey what the other was thinking or feeling. There was a mutual understanding between you.

Still, he loved finding new ways to get under your skin. And you were more than happy to return the favor. It was a brazen, tenacious dance that raised the tension in any room you were in, even when others were around.

Bantering with him was the only exciting part of your days. You itched to do something—anything besides train. The thrill of a mission was what you craved. Waiting for that “something good” Charles and Logan had mentioned felt like torture.

You saw the others come and go on missions a few times over the month. They’d be gone for only a few hours or a day, but that was exactly what you wanted. Your requests, however, were falling on deaf ears.

“I think I’m ready,” you reaffirmed to Storm as you finished a set in the gym. “I did great in the Danger Room, I train on my own, I’ve read some rather boring files. I’m ready!”

“You survived the Danger Room,” Storm corrected. “You’d do better if you actually worked with us instead of next to us.”

You huffed, hands on your hips. “I’m trying, alright? And I have been doing better!”

“You have,” Storm nodded. She glanced over, noticing Logan entering the gym with a group of students, and a sly smile crossed her face. “If bickering and flirting with Logan were a measure of improvement, I’d say you’re more than ready for a mission.”

Looking over your shoulder, you saw Logan talking with some students. You’d bet his training shirt was a size too small, hugging every ridge of his toned physique. You quickly turned away, not wanting to give him any ammunition for later teasing.

You shook your head, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Well, he’s annoying, and it’s something to do until I can actually go on a mission.”

Storm noticed Logan catching sight of the two of you and saw the tension between you thicken. Around the students, you both were more restrained, but that didn’t stop Logan from eyeing you across the room.

“Patience is a virtue,” Storm remarked as she passed you, knowing it was best to leave you and Logan to your own devices.

Turning, you watched as Storm said something to Logan before leaving the gym. An idea sparked in your mind as Logan’s gaze settled on you. You gave him a nod toward the wall, signaling for him to follow. He obliged, moving out of the students’ earshot.

Noticing the sweat-soaked collar of your shirt, Logan couldn’t help himself. “Already hot and bothered just by me being here, sweetheart?”

Your face remained serious, ignoring his comment. “Can you do me a favor?” You crossed your arms, your tone sincere.

Logan huffed, realizing he wasn’t going to get a rise out of you. He nodded, mirroring your stance. “Yeah, what’s up?”

You felt silly about your request. “Can you talk to Charles for me? I want to start going on missions, but no one thinks I’m ready.”

Logan shook his head, surprised. “Probably because you’re not ready.” You’d heard it from Charles, Scott, and Storm, but hearing it from Logan felt like a betrayal, even personal.

“You know better than anyone I can handle myself!” Your voice was louder than intended. “I’ve been doing this longer than any of you—well, except you.”

Logan raised a hand, signaling you to ease up. “Easy, sweetheart, you’ve only been here a month.”

“And it’s agonizing!” you snapped. “I know I’m still learning this whole team thing, but you said I could do something good here.”

“Then do something!” Logan shot back, as if it was obvious. Before you could retort, he continued, “Look, Charles has me teaching self-defense to these boys without their abilities. Offer to do the same for the girls.”

For the first time, Logan had managed to shut you up. You looked over his shoulder, watching the boys practice without his supervision.

“Yeah, we have missions, but this is a school. Helping these kids—that’s the original mission.”

You glanced back at him, huffing. “You sound like Charles.”

“Because he has to remind me of that sometimes.” He placed a hand on your shoulder. “And now I get to remind you.”

His firm grasp was oddly calming. Weeks ago, you would’ve swatted his hand away with a scold, but now his touch felt sincere.

You nodded. “Alright, I’ll talk to Charles about training some students. But will you talk to him for me?”

Logan playfully hummed as if he was weighing his options, “I’ll vouch for you when the time comes,” Logan decided, shooting you a smile. He turned back to the boys, seeing them get a bit more rowdy under no current supervision. “I’d invite you to watch, but I think you’d distract the boys” he teased as he squeezed your shoulder. The look in his eyes was more mischievous than anything.

You picked his arm off your shoulder, sensing the bait, “Distract them or distract you?”

Logan eyed your leggings and cropped shirt. Your partially exposed abdomen and arms were dried with sweat, but Logan couldn’t get your smell out of his head. It was almost dizzying. It had been getting worse over the last few weeks. Your smell was all over the mansion on every goddamn surface in every goddamn room. He only found refuge in his own room. However, Logan was nothing but honest.

“Mainly the boys, but…” Logan stepped a little closer, taking a proper deep breath to inhale your scent, “I ain’t above your charms either.”

You deeply inhaled, your exhale resulting in a chuckle, “For a man that’s seen my case files, you have to know where that charm can lead you.”

Logan shrugged at your point, “For a woman who claimed she couldn’t possibly be a part of a team, you’re sure itchin’ to go on a mission.”

“So?”

He shrugged again, taking a few steps back with a playful gleam in his eyes. “First impressions aren’t everything.”

You watched as Logan went back to the students, immediately getting their attention when he spoke up. As you walked past the group to leave the gym, you noticed how attentive the male students were actually being, focusing on every word Logan was saying. And whether Logan wanted to say Charles made him do this or not, you could tell that he enjoyed it. If he said no, it wasn’t sincere. You knew a liar when you saw one.

After your conversation with Logan, you spoke with Charles. He was excited to see you take initiative in assisting the children. You didn’t have the heart to tell him it was Logan’s idea, but if Charles really wanted to know, he had his ways of figuring that out. You didn’t push the idea of going on missions to him again. That was your idea.

It only took Charles a day to find groupings of female students that were interested in your lessons. At this point, you didn’t interact with the students much. You were more of a lingering figure in the hallways. This was the students’ opportunity to size you up as well.

As you stood there in the gym with 12 girls staring at you with their judgemental eyes, you felt a bit exposed, a little vulnerable. You had grabbed their attention, and now you were slightly regretting it.

“Uhm, so, self-defense is important…your abilities won’t always save you. It may not be safe to use your abilities.” You nodded as if you were convincing yourself. Some of the girls nodded as well, giving you some semblance of confidence. 

“I’m not…” a curly haired girl began as she looked at you. Her brown eyes were wide with hesitation, “I’m not a fighter.” A few of the other girls muttered in agreement. 

“And you don’t have to be.” You tried to reassure them with a soft smile. “I’m not asking you guys to pick fights or…even like to fight. It’s just important to the Professor…important to me that you guys know how to protect yourselves. No matter where you go in life.”

Pride was a feeling you were familiar with. Usually that pride stemmed from your own work. And these girls were right; they definitely weren’t fighters. However, watching these girls take your advice, follow your movements, even laugh when they made a mistake, you felt pride outside of yourself. Even over the course of an hour, you saw the improvement. Their movements were more fluid as they learned to strike and block.

You could see that the hour was winding down. It flew by as you watched the paired up teens practice these simple moves on each other. Your mind was already racing with ideas on what to teach next. Sighing with contentment, you clapped to grab their attention.

“Alright, that’s gonna be all for today!” you told them, only holding some of the girls’ attention. The others were still playfully fighting at this point. “Same time next week? Yeah?”

A number of the girls nodded as they began to grab their things. When your eyes turned toward the door, you spotted Logan leaned against the doorframe with his large forearms crossed. You looked smitten with himself as he watched you interact with the students. You playfully narrowed your eyes with a soft smile.

You turned your attention back to the girls who were grabbing their bags, “And if you don’t remember anything from today, just remember to never pull your punches. What you lack in experience, you can make up for in ferocity, alright?”

The giddy girls all were quick to say their thank yous and goodbyes as they passed you. Some said bye to Logan, too, as he moved out of their way. 

With hands shoved in his jean pockets, he approached, “They don’t look half-bad,” he remarked, referring to the students. “And you look pleased with yourself, sweetheart.”

You bit your lip to hold back a smile, knowing Logan was going to use this as ammunition on why he’s always right. But a part of you didn’t care. “You were right; these are good kids. And I may have had fun,” you admitted as you grabbed the spray bottle and pushed the mop to clean down the mats. Logan walked beside you with raised brows as you began to clean up.

“Oh, I was right? That sounds good coming off your lips,” Logan teased, lightly shoving your shoulder.

“Don’t get used to it, Wolvie.” You eyed him as you turned around with the mop around to toward the other end. Noticing his sweats and t-shirt–that damn tight t-shirt again–you motioned to the equipment toward the end of the gym. “Are you here to work out or bother me? Because the weights are down there, brute.”

Logan's mouth quirked into a wry smile at your question. Walking next to you, he could smell your scent, a mix of sweat and your own natural scent. It made him feel oddly relaxed yet infuriated. He let his eyes drift down to your body as you pushed the mop.

 “I was, but,” His eyes lingered on your form before taking the mop from you, tossing it against the wall, “now I wanna see if what you’re teaching these girls are any good.”

Logan backed up, giving ample space between the two of you. You cocked your head, interested in the dare but still hesitant. The tension was already stiff in the gym with anticipation at the mere mention of a fight.

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” you shot back, already beginning to stretch your arms, “but if you wanted a personal lesson, all you had to do was ask, Wolvie.” Your tone teased him, bringing a gleam of challenge in his features.

In the empty gym, you both took your stances across from each other, sizing the other up. The thrill of anticipation and adrenaline began to flood your bloodstream as you mentally refamiliarized with how Logan fought during the Danger Room. Brutish is how you’d described it.

“You gonna keep your claws to yourself?”

“Gonna keep your knives to yourself?”

You dramatically rolled your eyes. You unsheathed your knives, darting them to a nearby board in a show of faith.

Logan cracked his knuckles, a smirk playing on his lips. “You sure you want to do this? I wouldn’t want to hurt you, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, shifting into a defensive stance. “The only thing delicate around here is your ego.”

With a sudden burst, Logan lunged forward, aiming for your midsection. You ducked, the rush of air from his punch sending a thrill down your spine. You pivoted swiftly, landing a sharp kick to his side. Logan staggered but quickly regained his stance, admiration creeping on his lips.

“Not bad,” he admitted, his tone teasing, “but you’ll need to do better than that to impress me.”

You couldn’t help but grin, “I already know I impress you.”

You darted in again, your movements a blur. A quick jab here, a feint there—Logan parried some strikes but let one slip through, catching him right on the cheek. The surprise on his face was priceless, and you took a moment to bask in it. If Logan could bruise, he was sure he would have.

You winced, a playful lilt in your voice, “I don’t pull my punches, Wolvie.”

Logan dryly chuckled, rubbing his cheek, “Alright, sweetheart.”

With a mock glare, he lunged again, relying on his size and strength. You ducked low, narrowly avoiding his grasp, and then executed a spinning kick that nearly knocked him off balance. He stumbled, caught between frustration and admiration. 

“Gotta say, I like the way you move for me,” he remarked, genuine awe shining through.

“You wanted an up close show,” you shot back, grinning as you moved in again, launching a series of rapid jabs. Logan blocked a few but let one slip, landing solidly on his jaw again. He staggered, a laugh escaping his lips. “And I aim to please.”

As they exchanged blows, the gym echoed with their banter and laughter. You weren’t even exclusively on the mats anymore. You were moving around the equipment, against the wall. Logan tried to pin you against the wall, but you slipped out of his grasp, executing a swift spin that brought you behind him once more.

With a burst of speed, you locked him in a tight hold, your bodies inches apart. Logan struggled, muscles flexing beneath their grip, but you had the upper hand. “You’re not getting away that easily,” you teased, leaning closer, their breath brushing against his ear. You felt Logan ease up.

“Don’t know if I want to,” Logan shot back, breathless yet exhilarated. 

Feeling your cheeks reddened, you pushed Logan down, pinning him to the padded floor in a swift maneuver with knee and forearm. You positioned yourself over him, yours faces inches apart. Logan didn’t appear defeated; he looked pleased with himself despite the pressure on his abdomen and chest.

You were pleased with yourself, too…for more reasons than one.

“I won,” you breathlessly stated, a small smile on your lips.

Logan’s eyes darted between your eyes and your lips. He unconsciously licked his lips before another smile grew on his face, “Then why do I feel so damn lucky?”

You would’ve expected your heart to slow at this point, yet it stayed elevated as you looked down at Logan. His hazel eyes were now a dark green. It was over. You could release him, but you didn’t. Against your better judgment, you nuzzled yourself close to his ear, hearing his breath hitch.

“Because most men barely make it out with their lives when I get ‘em like this.”

It took everything in Logan not to groan as lips grazed against his ear. Yet, he couldn’t help the hand that partially gripped your waist, feeling the warmth radiating from your body.

“Not the worst view to take in before the slaughter.”

Your mind was fuzzy being this close to Logan. It only worsened when Logan gripped you. Your entire body was buzzing, screaming to pull away. Still, you stayed, only slightly shifting your weight off his chest. The competitive gleam in Logan’s eyes was replaced with something softer, sensual even. Your breathing slowed, but your heart was racing a mile a minute. 

Even Logan couldn’t seem to piece together another quip, a retort. All his thoughts had been stripped away, replaced with only you. You were consuming every ounce of his senses except the very one he craved the most. As close as you were, it wouldn’t be difficult to obtain. Yet, Logan was reluctant because even in the tenderness of your eyes, he saw a flash of something–he almost missed it—that he hadn’t seen in you before.

Fear.

“I gotta talk to Charles,” you quickly stammered as you lifted yourself off of Logan, not even thinking about facing him again. As quick as you said it, you were heading for the door. Logan could only muster the faint call of your name from the floor. He wasn’t surprised when it didn’t stop you.

After slowly standing, Logan noticed your knives still jammed into the wall. Your favorites, no less. Pulling them from the wall, Logan took the knives with him. 

You’d be looking for them eventually.

He couldn’t wait until you did.

note: love hearing y'all's thoughts or if you wanna be tagged ♡

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[maretinelli]

GREAT FRIEND OF YOURS

Jake Peralta X fem!reader

Summary: Jake and y/n have been friends for as long as they can remember, but as the years go by their feelings begin to turn romantic.

Words: 3.4K+

Warnings: I don't remember exactly, so, mentions of the past, friends to lovers, Jake and S/n being romantically silly.

Author: First of all, English is not my first language, I apologize for any mistakes that may be in the story. And second, I want a JAKE FOR MYSELF NOW!!

Y/s: Surname

MASTERLIST

Jake Peralta and Y/n Y/s. Best friends since childhood, they entered the police academy together, got their first job together and of course, they entered 99 together.

If this wasn't a love story told from motherhood, I wouldn't know how to describe what it was.

They were always great friends, but as their journey progressed, they both fell in love with each other. But obviously, neither of them knew that the other was in love.

But it was so clear, it was written in the stars every night.

99 couldn't stand seeing the stolen glances, the flirtations they didn't notice, the shameless kindness and affection.

•••••••••••••••••••

Jake had arrived before Y/n at the police station. Which was strange, because when they didn't come together, Peralta would arrive late.

"Good morning guys!" Jake walks in smiling and everyone looks at him.

Amy looks at her watch and then at Jake.

"Did you look at your watch today?"

"Of course, why?"

"You're 10 minutes early. You're always late. What's wrong?" Rosa asks.

"Wait a minute guys," Amy says, looking straight at the detective who was standing with his bag over his shoulder. "GUYS, JAKE GAVE HIS HAIR GEL!!" She screams, making the entire squad look at Jake.

Jake grimaces.

"Shut up. I didn't put anything in my hair, as usual." He huffs and Charles steps closer to him.

"Seriously!!"

"Yeah, I passed. But be quiet."

"Who did you pass it on to? To your beloved Y/n Y/s?!"

Jake quickly turns to his best friend and checks the room to see if anyone had heard that.

"Sorry." Boyle makes a zipper sign across his mouth and smiles without showing his teeth.

With that, Sergeant Jefford ends up arriving at the police station and calling the 99 squad for a small morning meeting.

Jake enters the room last and tells us who was there.

"...6...7...8!! Someone's missing" He puts his hands on his hips.

"Did you tell me, sweetie?" Gina asks, looking at her phone.

"Of course!"

"He forgot his beloved." Rosa says, putting her feet on the table.

"Aaaah true" The squad responds in chorus and Peralta rolls his eyes.

"Damn, I forgot to tell you about Y/n. By the way, does anyone know where she is?" Jake asks worriedly, we put our hands on our hips again.

"You tell me. You guys always arrive together. I think there's a bit of a fuss and a roll the night before you come here," Gina says and everyone smiles.

"That's right, Gina." Diaz high-fives Gina and the squad waits for Jake's response.

"You guys are so funny. You should work in the circus," he says seriously. "And no, I don't know where she is either. The last time I talked to her was last night."

"Grate and roll..."

"Gina, shut up" Peralta points at her and she smiles raising her hands up.

With that said, a hurried Y/n enters the room. With two bags hanging on her shoulder, hair with curled ends, makeup and a beautiful pair of Louboutin heels on her feet.

"Sorry guys for being late. I know I'm not like that, I'm really sorry." She walks in quickly and sits next to Jake.

"Wow!!! What's that in y/s?" Rosa whistles playfully and the squad joins in.

"What's up, friend. Where are you going like that?"

"Jake's drooling!" Boyle says, pretending his hand is full of something.

Everyone looks at Jake, including Y/n.

"Hi honey. It's so quiet there." Y/n jokes, pushing him with her shoulder.

"Ah...I...hi sweetie" Jake ends up stuttering, but in the end he lets out that mischievous smile.

Y/n opens a huge smile as she looks at Peralta.

"Are you guys going to just stand there and make out, or can we start the meeting?" Sergeant asks.

Jake grimaces and Y/n smiles, raising her hands up in surrender.

"Sorry, Sergeant. Peralta is a very handsome guy to look at." She flirts.

"Name of your sex tape!!" Everyone screams and she rolls her eyes holding back a laugh.

"Good morning, squad. Today I'm going to give you a quick summary of what you'll be doing today. Boyle will be in charge of the paperwork for case 23, Santiago and Diaz will go on a mission after the criminal Bryan. Scully and Hitchcock will stay in the file room and finally, Peralta and y/s will stay together to solve case 8-24Ws." Sergeant says.

"Look there, honey. Together again!" Jake exclaims, squeezing Y/n's cheeks.

"Aawww Jakee!!

"NAME OF YOUR SEX TAPE" The squad yells again.

"Ok guys. Dismissed" Sergeant says, making the detectives stand up.

"I have to stop messing around with these sex tape names." Y/n says as she stands up and grabs her bags.

Peralta stands up and takes the bags from y/n's hand, so he can take them to the table for her.

"I think so too. But it's really cool to keep talking about this all day, please continue," Peralta said as he gave y/s space to leave the room. "Now, changing the subject. Why so many bags for one shift?"

Y/n smiles as she arrives at her table. Which happened to be the one in front of Jake's.

"You know that guy we met at training a few weeks ago? The one from 95." Jake rolls his eyes.

"How could I not remember, he ate you through your eyes?" He says in a low voice, but Y/n ends up hearing him.

"Yeah. I think that's the one," she laughs. "So, at the end of training he asked for my number and we've been talking ever since. Today we're going on our first date. Isn't that awesome?" She smiles and Jake's face is completely serious.

"Oh yeah. Of course." He says seriously and places her bags on the table.

This information caught Jake off guard. It wasn't entirely what he wanted to hear from Y/n. Yes, she looked so beautiful and perfect in that outfit she wore and those Louboutin heels, it was to be expected that she would go out on a date at the end of the day. But deep down, Jake wanted it to be just a drink with his friends.

But it was also obvious. Rosa, Amy, and Gina hadn't said anything.

While they were working together, Peralta couldn't concentrate on the case. Because, first, she was SO beautiful that it took his focus away from his duties, and second, the words 'first date' and 'let's go out today' wouldn't leave his head.

You see, the love of her life was dating someone else, of course she didn't love him, as he loved her. And third, Jake was desperate to tell her everything he felt at that moment and maybe ruin their friendship forever.

"Jake? Did you hear me?" Y/n asked, as she took the first suspect of the case to the interrogation room.

"Sure, yes." He says desperately.

"Is that okay with you then? If I interrogate him?"

"Oh, yeah. It could be." He smiles without showing his teeth and they enter the floor of the building that was their squadron's.

Detective Y/n takes the suspect in for questioning, while Jake returns to his desk. Snorting.

Peralta sits in his chair so hard that Boyle and Sarge could hear a crash.

The two look at each other, and then look at the younger detective, who was huffing and running his hands over his face as he slid down the chair.

"Hey, you urgently need to tell her how you feel." Terry looks around before approaching Jake and speaking.

Jake, scared, looks at the sergeant without understanding anything.

"Stop pretending. Practically the entire squad knows that you love Y/N deeply." Terry says and Boyle nods.

Peralta grimaces and snorts sarcastically.

"Since when?"

"Since when?" Boyle asks indignantly. "I can name a few events. Well, starting with when you entered the 99, you were chosen instead of her, and what did you do? You said you would only enter the police station if she joined you, because you said she was more brilliant than you and you thought it was unfair. Another one? When you had a bad cold for a week, because you walked more than 10 kilometers to help y/n because her car had broken down" Boyle says and Terry agrees.

"Or the time you skipped a date just to stay with her at the apartment because she's afraid of thunder and you knew there was a big storm coming that morning."

"If this wasn't love, my name isn't Charles Boyle anymore"

"How do you guys know all this?" Jake asks.

"You're so loud that the entire squad knows when a message from her comes in or when there's something related to her. Because you just don't know how to whisper to yourself. Not to mention that it's clear," Terry says with a sigh.

Peralta leans back in his chair and sighs deeply, defeated.

"Okay. You guys win. I'm in love... No, I'm in love. I've loved y/N since I was 10 years old," Peralta confesses. "Damn, we grew up together, we went to the police academy together, we worked together. That woman is an addiction. God, how I love her." He sighs again. "I would give anything to be that man today, just to go out with her."

"Dude. Stop it, say everything you feel and be THE MAN who takes her out," Jefford says.

"It's not that easy"

"How could you not? She literally shows you that she loves you too," Boyle shouts in a whisper, so as not to alert the entire police station.

"Tell me another, Charles. She must love me only as a friend, and you see."

"What I'm saying is true. We all know that you love each other romantically. It's just that you both aren't aware of it."

"I'm with Boyle," Terry agrees.

Jake reflects.

"What now? What should I do?"

"Dude, just tell her how you feel. And if it doesn't work out, I can get you a job at 92," Boyle jokes.

"Ew Charles, on 92?" Jake gags.

"It's just him joking, man. Just tell her, if anything goes wrong we're here and we'll do something. It's going to be okay" Terry consoles, putting his hands on Jake's shoulder.

Peralta smiles at his friends, mentally thanking them for having them in his life.

Then, y/n passes by saying goodbye to them with the phone to her ear, and leaving the police station in a hurry.

"And there she goes my friend, now or never!" Boyle says.

"You're right. I already have the no. What could be worse is losing my best friend and the love of my life at the same time. But hey, just one detail" he smiles sarcastically and grabs his jacket that was on the chair. "Thanks, guys. I love you" he runs off, after the detective who had just passed by.

Well, at the same time that Jake was talking to the boys at the police station, y/n took the suspect to the interrogation room and ended up meeting Diaz and Santiago in the hallway.

"Another inmate today?" Rosa says, as she entered the hidden room that Y/n was in.

"Yeah. I'll just interrogate him and leave for my date." Y/n said weakly as she looked at the detainee with his hands tied sitting in the room, not knowing that he was being watched by three detectives behind the mirror.

"Wow, and you're really going?" Amy asks curiously.

"I'm going, why wouldn't I?" Y/n asks.

"Rosa and I bet you'd stand up the young detective from 95. Like you did the others."

Y/n laughed awkwardly. "Why would I do that?"

"Don't be naive, y/s" Diaz crosses her arms.

"y/n, dear. You canceled the last three dates because Jake needed your help with something. It was either work, helping him when his apartment flooded in the rain, or when he didn't have a ride home."

"But that was unexpected, I was just helping my best friend"

"I'm a great friend of yours, but I'm going to have to say this. Stop being a sly girl." Diaz says impatiently.

Amy and y/n look at each other scared.

"You only skipped the dates because Jake was in trouble and you're in love with him." Y/n opens her mouth to respond, but Rosa continues. "Not really. You love that man. I can tell, the whole squad knows it. You breathe Jake, you exhale Jake, you live for Jake, you're half of Jake. I'm not saying you fuck Jake, because you've never had sex. I think..."

Amy holds back her smile and y/n is so shocked that she holds back her laughter, while listening to her friend's scolding.

"So tell the truth, Y/n! You love that man!"

Y/n crosses her arms, sighing deeply and leaning against the wall. She looks at the girls.

"Yeah, you beat Rosa. I'm totally in love with Jake" Y/n smiles without showing her teeth.

"I've loved Jake since, what? I was 10, 11 years old? Come on guys, I grew up with Jake. Our moms were friends forever, Jake and I were inseparable, we went to the police academy together, every job we've had, the other one was there. Jake is a part of me."

"Why don't you tell him everything you feel? I know it's not easy, but maybe it could release what you've been repressing for years," Amy says.

"I'm with Amy. Tell me everything you feel, these dates of yours never work anyway. Nothing you do will make you forget Jake. Come on girl."

"What if it goes wrong? I lose my best friend and the love of my life. Then I die."

Amy laughs friendly.

"No, you won't die." Rosa says. "And no, you won't get dumped by Jake Peralta. Seriously, this man lives for you and everyone knows it, of course, except you. All the flirting, unnoticed caresses, kindness with bags, car doors and everything else?? There was one time he told me that he canceled a date to stay with you at the apartment, because a storm was coming and you're afraid of thunder. Y/n, grab this man and go to a room, I promise it will be a success." She smiles and crosses her arms satisfied.

Y/n makes a face but smiles.

"Rosa is partly right. Say what you feel, cancel the meeting and talk to Jake. You know that going or not meeting the detective from 95 won't make you get over Jake any faster. The only way to get over Jake is to stay with him," Santiago says, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Go on, Rosa and I will take care of this inmate. Go after your happy ending." Amy smiles and y/n sheds a few tears at her friend's words.

"Okay" y/n wipes her tears. "I don't know what I would do without you guys" She says leaving the room.

"It would be nothing!"

"Rosa!!"

"Sorry"

"I love you guys!" Y/n yells in the hallway before running out and calling the detective to cancel the meeting, and then going to talk to Jake.

Passing by the room where they were, she sees Jake talking to Terry and Boyle, she says a little goodbye to the boys and leaves the police station to cancel the meeting.

With Y/n out of the police station, Jake runs down the stairs to see if he can catch up with her. When the woman takes the phone away from her ear and turns to go back in, Peralta throws the door open, making her lose her balance.

"Whoa, whoa, honey. I got you," he says, his hands on her back.

She smiles embarrassedly.

"Sorry, I think I stepped on your foot with my heel." Y/n looks down and steps out of his arms.

He makes a sign that it was nothing and they remain silent.

"Were you going to meet?" He asks.

"No, I called to cancel"

"Did something happen?"

"No, nothing," she says, looking at the floor, but then gathers her courage. "Okay, actually there is one thing. I was going to look for you-"

Jake's eyes widen.

"Okay. I also need to tell you something, please let me say first that if everything goes wrong I can run away from here"

Y/n laughed. But her heart was pounding inside her chest.

"I've been needing to talk to you about this for a while now, but I didn't know how to start this conversation, because I've always been a great friend of yours-" Jake begins, but Y/n interrupts.

"Jake, I-"

"Please, let me finish, my courage is fading." He says desperately and she smiles at his silly expression. "There's nothing better than letting you know about such a beautiful feeling, and after years, today I came looking for you to talk. I know you can't come here without imagining that I could love you so much. I've always been a great friend of yours, since we were kids, even partners at the police station, we live in the same condominium, we went to the police academy together. We're best friends, inseparable, I've always told you my secrets, but I don't know if that's how it'll be anymore. I've always been a great friend of yours, I'm in love with you. Y/n, I love you. I love you romantically." Peralta finishes speaking and sees that y/n has tears in her eyes. "Just being your friend, it's not going to work anymore."

The detective opens her mouth to say something, but all that comes out is.

"Jake"

"I know, it's okay. That was very random and suddenly, you're confused, you don't feel the same. It's okay, I can change jobs so you can feel more at ease..."

"Jake" y/n smiles.

"...Boyle said he can get me a job at 92. I know it's disgusting there, but anything to make you comfortable." He rambles.

"JAKE!" She screams and the detective can't shut up, until she decides to do the job herself.

Y/n approaches Jake and makes the man stay quiet, while passionately kissing Peralta's lips.

At first, Jake is startled by the act, but when he realizes that it is an answer, and it is a YES, he relaxes and delights in the woman's arms. His hand lovingly passes from her waist to her things, while y/n, has her arms hanging around his neck, stroking the man's hair.

Their separation only came when they were short of breath, but this caused their foreheads to be stuck together.

"And what's the answer?" Jake jokes.

"Shut up." Y/n laughs. "You know the answer. But I say yes, I love you too. Since I was 11, you brat." She says making Jake smile.

"I think if I kept this feeling to myself any longer, I would combust." Jake makes an exploding head gesture.

Y/n laughs, looking into the man's brown eyes.

"Gosh, how I love you. And it feels so freeing to say that to you." She smiles.

"I love you so much," Jake says again, pulling her into a passionate hug.

"The squad already knows, right?" Y/n whispers.

"You know. Boyle said it was evident on our faces."

"Rosa too," she replies. "But I said the squad already knows, it's because Amy and Gina don't know how to disguise that they're hiding behind the curtain on the 10th floor." Y/n looks up, trying to be discreet.

They pull out of the hug and look up. Waving to the guys.

"IT'S ALL RIGHT GUYS. WE'RE GETTING MARRIED TOMORROW!" Jake yells, with an arm around Y/n's waist.

People scream in celebration.

"Stop it, you liar," she scolds. "IT'S HIS LIE," she shouts, making the crowd snort sadly.

"Want to come in? It's freezing out here," Jake says.

"Come on, before the guy from 95 hears my voicemail and comes to make a scene with you."

"What did you say to him?"

"I said I was in love with you and that I was going to tell you how I felt."

"Oh my God, you're in love with me?" Jake feigns surprise.

"You're so funny. I should lie and say I feel this way about you. It's all fake, it was a prank." Y/n jokes.

"Love me too much for that" Jake hugs her from the corner and kisses her temple.

They take the elevator in comfortable silence.

"So, you mean you would go to 92 if I said I didn't love you romantically and that you would quit your job just to see me comfortable?" Y/n asks.

"Yes," Jake says, making Y/n smile and almost explode with love. "But not to 92. It's disgusting there, seriously."

"No, no. I really wouldn't let you go there." They make disgusted faces together and step out of the elevator when it stops.

Author: I need to say two things. First, my question box and chat are open for requests and second, I love writing inspired by music, If you want, you can do it and leave here at the end the songs that inspired the story.

Another thing, I realized after days of writing this story. I ended up changing the captain's name to "Bolt" instead of "Holt" 🤣🤣 If there is this error in the story, ignore it hahaha too big to review.

[alearicci]

“you're losing me, charles” – CL16.

pairings: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader(but name in fic Ann); charles leclerc x ex-girlfriend.

summary: the most difficult breaking is when you and her love each other, but the decision can no longer be changed.

warning: break up, hurt/comfort, sad, a little bit social media au.

song to read: you're losing me - taylor swift.

note: this is just my understanding of how a girl can act when parting. In your thoughts it may be different, but this is a story with my fantasy fiction and therefore, I ask you to treat it with understanding.

It was too painful to write, I feel very bad about parting with people I once loved.

⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ♡ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆

Charles Leclerc was sitting on the bed, looking at a photograph of him and his girlfriend Ann standing on the bedside table. The weight of the impending decision weighed heavily on his heart. But he understood that there was no other way out. That if he didn't tell her right now, he wouldn't be able to later. Then this belated conversation can aggravate the situation and make it much worse for both her and him. Charles took the photo in his hands and took the picture out of the frame. He smiled sadly as soon as his eyes met the girl in the photo. Ann. She was always there for him and gave him sincere love. She provided him with such necessary support, gave him the opportunity to feel needed.

Charles involuntarily thought about the day when this photo was taken. It seems that it was the first time she came to a family dinner in his family. Ann immediately liked his mother and brothers, which made the racer very happy. And how can someone not like such a girl?

Charles really loved her. He loved her with all his heart.

But now his heart is asking him to let her go.

The world-famous Formula 1 racer, determined to succeed in his career, knew that sacrifices were inevitable, but he never imagined that he would have to choose between career and love.

He was so eager to become a professional driver, did everything to make his dream come true. He could stay up all night thinking about how to improve the car, he trained until he lost consciousness, he squeezed everything out of himself to succeed. But how can you live without love in our cruel world?

He dreamed of returning home after a hard workout, spending time with his beloved and telling about the past day at the racetrack. He dreamed of seeing his girlfriend in the paddock, she would be wearing his trademark cap and would glow with happiness when he crossed the finish line in the top three. He dreamed of celebrating victory until morning and knowing that his sleeping beauty was waiting for him at home.

He got it and now he will lose it of his own free will. Funny, isn't it? When you love a person and when he loves you, you don't give up on him. But this time it's different.

Ann walked slowly into the room, noticing the thoughtful expression on Charles' face and their shared photo in her hands. A certain anxiety and misunderstanding of the whole situation filled her eyes as she walked towards him.

"Honey, what's wrong? I don't recognize you lately. Are you okay?"

Charles took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts. It turned out pretty damn bad. He couldn't bring himself to say those terrible words.

"Ann, we need to talk. Please sit down."

Ann sat down next to him, her hand gently touching his arm.

"Of course, Charles. What is it?"

He gently stroked her fingers with his own, finding solace in her touch before breaking the news that would destroy her in just a couple of seconds. And, it is unlikely that he will ever be able to touch her like that again.

"I... I think we should break up."

Ann's eyes widened in disbelief, she let out a nervous laugh and muttered.

"Break up? Charles, are you kidding? I don't really feel like laughing."

Charles plucked up the courage to look into her eyes, his own eyes were full of uncharacteristic sadness, because at any other time his eyes were filled with a mischievous sparkle.

"No, Ann, I'm not kidding. Damn it."

Charles exhaled heavily and bit his lower lip.

"What... What did I do wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

"It's not about you. It's about me and my career. Formula 1 requires a huge level of dedication, and also requires me to always be focused and ready for any turns. I'm not able to properly combine common sense on the track and feelings for you. I just... not worthy of you, you know? I want to spend more time with you so that we can be a normal couple like everyone else, go on frequent dates, stay up all night, dance until morning, but I can't. I'm sorry, but my decision is well thought out and I won't change it."

Ann's voice was shaking with pain. She couldn't believe it would end like this. That he had told her in plain text that she meant nothing to him. That he chooses himself, not them, or even her.

"So you prefer the race to me, right?"

Charles tightened his grip on her hand, his heart clenched in pain from the decision he had made.

"I don't want to lose you, Ann. But I can't ignore the pressure to perform, to constantly give my best on the track. I never wanted this, honey. I never meant to hurt you. But our careers, our aspirations pull us in different directions. The demanding nature of my profession and constant travel do not allow me to give you the time and attention you deserve."

Tears were still gathering in the corners of Ann's eyes as she hurriedly removed her hand from Charles' palm.

"You're losing me, Leclerc. As soon as I started this conversation. If you can't handle everything, then I don't think you really needed me. I thought we could support each other, Charles. I believed that we could handle this together. But it looks like it was all in vain."

Charles swallowed noisily and shouted nervously.

"Ann, our love is sincere and strong, but the reality of my profession is inexorable. Constant travel, intense training, demands on my time... it would be unfair to ask you to wait for me, to put your life on pause."

Charles paused, his voice choked with emotion, and Ann was silent, still trying to be strong.

There was emptiness inside.

With a heavy sigh, he gathered his thoughts and continued: "I don't want to keep you from your dreams, from the opportunities that lie ahead of you. You deserve someone who can be there for you, who can give you the love and support you need. And right now I can't be that person, no matter how much I want to be."

He automatically took Anne's slightly trembling hands in his again, squeezing them to comfort her. To comfort not only her, but also myself.

"Please understand that this decision is also tearing me apart. It's not because I don't love you, but because I love you enough to know it's the right thing to do. We both deserve real happiness and satisfaction, even if it means that our paths diverge."

Ann nodded, trying to smile as sincerely as possible. She knew she couldn't change Charles's mind, but she couldn't not defend her honor. Finally, she abruptly pushed Charles's hands off her own, causing him to round his eyes in surprise and said.

"If this is what you really think is best for your career, Charles, then I won't stand in your way. I hope that you will achieve the success you are striving for. Good luck.

Ann got out of bed and went to the closet to pack her things.

"Ann..."

Charles stood behind her and wanted to hold out his hand to calm her down.

"Silence, Leclerc. Silence. Let me pack my things and get out of your house. And out of your life. I will remain in it only in memories. As your friend said... Daniel, I think his name is. No regrets, only memories. Right. "

Ann's voice traitorously broke from nervous overstrain, which made both her and Charles start in fright.

When Charles reluctantly let Ann go, he couldn't help but wonder if the price he had paid was too high and if success on the racetrack would ever bring him the same joy and happiness that Ann had once brought.

Ann left an hour after their conversation. It took Charles a long time to get used to the idea that she would not come back.

Everything reminds him of her.

Everything reminds her of him.

As soon as Ann got to her apartment, she didn't cry or break the dishes. She went to her Instagram, deleted all joint photos with Charles from her profile and posted a post with a single phrase.

hahaitsann

liked by carlossainz55, arianagrande and 234.379 others

hahaitsann my heart won't start anymore for you

view all 1881 comments

arianagrande: babe are u ok?

⇾hahaitsann: happier than ever

carlossainz55: fck. ann you're alright?

⇾ hahaitsann: of course, ca, don't worry:)

danielricciardo: ann are you home? I will come now.

⇾ hahaitsann: ouuh. no need, dan, tysm.

kellypiquet: girl I'm here

charles_leclerc

liked by carlossainz55, landonorris, fancharles1 and other 1.290.300

charles_leclerc i can't find a pulse.

view all 12.328 comments

landonorris: you guys are scaring me, what happened?

⇾ charles_leclerc: nothing just an incident

carlossainz55: charles, can you go to direct and answer me?

fancharles1: WHA-A-AT

⇾ carlossainz55: same reaction mate

sofiestay: I hope you're all right, Charles.

lec16lerc: god what happened?

16charlec: did you and Ann break up?

⇾ janerttb: I think yes, they both don't have pictures in their profiles together. Did you see Ann's post?

⇾ 16charlec: no. but. wtf.

So that's what was supposed to happen. It hurts, yes. But you have to be a strong girl.

[immortalarizona]

Died With a Hammer in His Hand: Unpacking the Myth of John Henry 

“John Henry said to his captain:  ‘You are nothing but a common man,  Before that steam drill shall beat me down,  I’ll die with my hammer in my hand.’”  — “John Henry, the Steel Driving Man,” recounted by W. T. Blankenship 

John Henry is one of America’s most well-known mythic heroes, immortalized in song, statue, postage stamp, and multiple movies (including a 2000 Disney animated short film which I vividly remember watching in elementary school). But if you’re unfamiliar with the legend, here’s a brief summary. 

John Henry was a freed slave who found himself working for a railroad company in the years following the Civil War as a steel driver. His job was to drive a steel spike into rock so that dynamite could be placed in the resulting hole, thus opening up a tunnel through the Appalachians. 

John Henry was the best on his crew, and he took pride in his work—so when a white salesman brought in a steam-powered drill, claiming that it could drill better than any man, he decided to challenge that claim. Henry entered into a contest with the machine to see who could carve out the deepest hole in the mountain in a single day. 

His victory cost him his life. 

Henry’s wife—sometimes named Polly Ann, sometimes named Lucy, sometimes not named at all—went to visit him on his deathbed that evening. In many versions of the ballad, Henry’s last words are a request for a glass of water. In other versions, he asks his wife to be true to him when he’s dead, or to do her best to raise their son. Many accounts say that he’s buried by a railroad, where “Every locomotive come roarin’ by, / Says there lays that steel drivin’ man” (lyrics from Onah L. Spencer). 

Bronze statue of John Henry near Talcott, West Virginia, sculpted by Charles Cooper.

The general consensus among historians now seems to be that the ballad of John Henry is one such legend that has its roots in historical fact, although the particulars are long obscured by the centuries that have since passed. Henry was born into slavery in the 1840s or 50s, either in North Carolina or Virginia (some accounts of the ballad lend credence to the latter claim). As for how John Henry found himself working for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railway company, University of Georgia history professor Scott Reynolds Nelson posits in his book Steel Drivin’ Man that the man was sentenced to ten years in a Virginia prison for theft at only nineteen years of age, and that he was among many prisoners leased out by the state for labor. 

Did you know that the 13th Amendment makes an exception for slavery which is used “as a punishment for crime whereof the party shall have been duly convicted”? (This practice continues to this day, and has become an industry worth tens of billions of dollars. Louisiana State Penitentiary, also known as Angola or simply “The Farm,” is a good place to begin if you’re wanting to look into chain gangs further.) John Henry the legend was a free worker who took on the backbreaking, often dangerous work of railroad labor under his own power and could demand any wage for his work, but John Henry the man may have lived and died in neoslavery. 

Speaking of Henry’s death, most retellings of the myth say that he died of sheer exhaustion. Some add in the detail that it was his heart that gave out because he worked himself too hard. However, alternate theories have been proposed for how the man died. Some historians say it was a stroke that killed him, while others posit silicosis. 

It’s this latter hypothesis which I find most intriguing. For those who aren’t familiar with it, the American Lung Association describes silicosis as “a lung disease caused by breathing in tiny bits of silica, a common mineral found in sand, quartz and many other types of rock.” It’s been an occupational hazard for construction workers since, well, the time of John Henry. What I find interesting are the implications for the narrative if the real Henry died of silicosis. In the folk ballad, Henry causes his own death by working himself too hard. On the other hand, the ones at fault if the man died of silicosis would be his employers—the ones responsible for the dangerous conditions he worked in. 

So why would John Henry’s cause of death change during the transition from fact to legend? 

The answer, as with many other fictionalized accounts of historical events, is that it simply makes for a more effective story. But not just that—a more effective message. So what might the ballad be trying to tell those who listen to it? 

First, let’s think about who this song was sung by and for. The ballad of John Henry is a work song, its rhythm meant to help railroad workers stay and strike in sync, in the same way a drumbeat helps soldiers march in step. It’s been sung by railroad workers, miners, construction workers, chain gangs, and country musicians. At its core, then, the ballad is a song of and for the American working class—specifically those people doing the same sort of backbreaking physical labor as John Henry himself. Many of these laborers would have been Black, and likely former slaves—especially when it came to Southern chain gangs. (See my above note about how American slavery was only mostly abolished, and then think about why the U.S. has one of the highest incarceration rates in the world. . . but I digress.) 

An oil painting of John Henry by Frederick Brown. 

We’ve established that John Henry is a hero for working-class Americans during the time of the Second Industrial Revolution. But what sort of hero is he? Is he like Achilles, a paragon of his country’s values and an example for the audience to aspire to? Or is he an Icarus, a cautionary tale sung so the audience won’t repeat his mistakes? 

The answer depends on who’s telling the story. 

Onah L. Spencer is the source for one version which emerged from a Black community in Cincinnati, Ohio. When he recounted the lyrics to Guy B. Johnson for the latter’s 1929 book John Henry: Tracking Down a Negro Legend, he also stated that the song was used to motivate workers: “. . . if there was a slacker in a gang of workers it would stimulate him with its heroic masculine appeal.” 

In cases such as Spencer’s crew, then, John Henry’s death is presented as glorious, and Henry is seen as admirable for working so hard that it kills him. Here, he’s a good example. Taken to the extreme, the Achillean Henry encourages fellow workers to follow in his footsteps—to keep pushing themselves harder and harder until they finally keel over. 

This message doesn’t benefit the workers passing it along; it benefits the employers profiting from their labor. This, I think, is where the story blurs the line between myth and propaganda. And while the ballad of John Henry certainly isn’t singlehandedly responsible for the American tendency to overwork ourselves, it does reflect our attitudes about work in a way that’s worth unpacking. To me, this reeks of the Puritan work ethic. The belief was that you had to be working as often as you could; if you didn’t, the devil would be able to influence you. The Puritans were one of America’s foundational cultural influences—of course those values would have influenced the ballad of John Henry. 

Henry is a hero because he worked himself to death. If we see him as a good example, what does this say about the effects that capitalism has had on American attitudes? About the internalized belief that our worth as humans only comes from what we can contribute to the economy? Why do we see death from exhaustion as a fitting end for a former slave? 

Then again, maybe we’re not supposed to. 

A lithograph of John Henry, from the series American Folk Heroes, by William Gropper. 

Remember how I noted earlier that many of the laborers who first sang Henry’s ballad would themselves have been former slaves? It’s important because there’s a long history of American slaves using work songs as a tool of resistance against their oppressors, and these Black laborers—these “freed” slaves—would have carried that tradition with them into the Second Industrial Revolution. 

The ballad of John Henry, then, might have been sung with the intent of helping other workers survive the brutal conditions on the railroads. Here, Henry becomes an Icarus—a warning of what happens if you push yourself too hard. One version of the ballad recorded by Edward Douglas of the Ohio State Penitentiary contains lyrics which suggest that not every Henry was meant to be emulated. 

“John Henry started on the right-hand side,  And the steam drill started on the left.  He said, ‘Before I’d let that steam drill beat me down,  I’d hammer my fool self to death,  Oh, I’d hammer my fool self to death.’” 

Don’t do what John Henry did, this version warns the audience. Be wiser than he was. Don’t push yourself quite so hard. Think of the people you’d be leaving behind if you’re not careful. 

Perhaps even the creation of this mythos was an act of defiance in and of itself. At this point, I think it bears mentioning that I myself am not Black and can only hypothesize based on what I’ve heard from people who are, but I see something radical in the act of raising up one of your own as your hero rather than venerating the people you’ve been told are superior to you. 

Remember, John Henry’s contest was versus a white man’s machine. It costs him everything, but he triumphs over the expectations of that steam drill salesman and proves his worth as a laborer and a person. John Cephas, a blues musician from Virginia who was interviewed by NPR for a report on John Henry back in 2002, had this to say of the myth: 

“It was a story that was close to being true. It’s like the underdog overcoming this powerful force. I mean even into today when you hear it (it) makes you take pride. I know especially for black people, and for people from other ethnic groups, that a lot of people are for the underdog.” 

Americans love underdog stories. Our own national origin myth is one! John Henry’s assertation of power and skill, the ballad’s declaration that Black people have the right to be proud of themselves too. . . no wonder this myth has resonated with so many people. No wonder it’s survived for a century and a half. 

In this light, then, John Henry once again becomes a hero for us, the audience, to emulate. In the fight against oppression, endurance like Henry’s becomes key. Justice is almost never won quickly. The odds stacked against us may seem impossible, but it’s worth trying anyways, even if we have to fight to our dying breaths. 

Artwork of John Henry as a defense worker by James Daugherty. 

John Henry has meant and been many things to a lot of people in the past two centuries. A representative of capitalist exploitation, a cautionary tale for workers, an inspiration to oppressed people in America, even a communist icon—but I’d like to take a moment to talk about what his story means to me. It’s not something I’ve seen discussed in my research, and I think it’s worth exploring. 

John Henry reflects fears of workers during the Second Industrial Revolution who saw how technology was evolving—how machines were being created that could do their jobs not just faster, but cheaper, because you don’t have to pay a machine like you would a person. They feared that they would be replaced, and that they would be left destitute while their former bosses grew richer and richer. And despite the centuries between us, this is a fear that I can understand. 

Often, I feel it myself. 

As an artist existing in online spaces during this new influx of AI-generated “art” and writing, I have witnessed many fears that we will be replaced by AI. Yes, there is a certain human quality to art that a generative learning model cannot replicate, but who’s to say that the much-vaunted free market will care? We can hope that art as a profession will survive, but we just don’t know. 

In John Henry’s struggle, I see my own. In the steam drill salesman, I see tech bros on the platform formerly known as Twitter showing off their latest batch of beautiful, hollow, AI-generated “art.” I see John Henry’s passion, his pride, his triumph. 

And I see hope. 

By his life and death, the mythic John Henry reassures me that human beings aren’t so easy to replace after all. He tells me that machines can be defeated. That one day, my vindication as an artist and writer will come, and the world will see our worth. 

The ballad of John Henry has endured like a mountain for a hundred and fifty years, and I hope it will survive for hundreds more—that John Henry’s hammer will continue to ring true throughout the ages. But in the midst of American mythos, it’s important not to lose sight of the historical facts behind it. Legends are interesting and inspirational and wonderful, but the real stories have something to tell us, too. 

Don’t forget to listen. 

Works Cited 

American Lung Association - Silicosis 

Ballad of America - This Old Hammer: About the Song 

Constitution of the United States - Thirteenth Amendment 

Encyclopedia Britannica - John Henry 

Flypaper by Soundfly - The Lasting Legacy of the Slave Trade on American Music 

Folk Renaissance - John Henry: Hero of American Folklore 

How Stuff Works - Was There a Real John Henry? 

ibiblio.org - John Henry: The Project 

National Park Service - The Superpower of Singing: Music and the Struggle Against Slavery 

NPR - Present at the Creation: John Henry 

NPR - Talk of the Nation: The Untold History of Post-Civil War ‘Neoslavery’ 

PBS - Mercy Street Revealed Blog - Singing in Slavery: Songs of Survival, Songs of Freedom 

Prof. Scott Reynolds Nelson - Steel Drivin’ Man: John Henry, the Untold Story of an American Legend 

World Population Review - Incarceration Rates by Country 2024 

[summersnow82]

The Scent of Roses - Part 9

Fanfiction_X-Men

Fictober 2023_Prompt 4: “Do you even know what this means?”

.......

Hank sat in a plush wingback chair across from Charles Xavier’s large, ornate desk, recalling when this room had been used for storage in some of Charles’ less productive years. He still found it impressive how far they’d come all these years later; so much success after so much struggle and loss.

“Do you ever dream about her?” Charles asked, touching a framed photo on his desk with tentative fingers. Hank didn’t have to see the picture to know who was in it, and yes, he missed her, too. Mystique had been a force in both their worlds, and while they weren’t always on the same side she’d always carried a piece of his heart.

“Sometimes. Less so now, but sometimes.”

“Hmmm.” Charles murmured thoughtfully. “The students enjoyed your impromptu open forum with Sabrina today.” His eyes flickered up to Hank’s. “Sabrina, on the other hand…,” he let his words dangle, and Hank sighed, raking a clawed hand through his thick, blue hair.

“I may have pushed a bit too hard,” he admitted.

Charles’ chair clicked and whirred as he moved from behind his desk to sit next to Hank. “What exactly are your intentions, Hank? Have you thought this through?”

“I think everything through, Charles,” Hank quipped, rubbing a thumb over his lower lip. He looked up, eyes pensive. “I’ve been informed by multiple sources I’ve been quite the fool for many, many years.” Charles quirked an eyebrow and gave a deft nod. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

The older man shrugged. “It wasn’t for me to share. Besides, when Sabrina came here she was far too young for you – legally and logistically. I assumed her childhood crush would fade, but her affections only deepened despite her efforts.”

Hank’s brow furrowed. “Efforts?”

“Warren. Kurt. Leaving here. Have you bothered to discuss any of this with her?”

Hank shook his head, continuing to worry his lower lip. “Every time I try it ends poorly.”

“I see.” Charles nodded. “Well, let’s put this on hold and discuss the more pressing matter. What did the President have to say?” Charles listened intently as Hank caught him up on all the details – what he thought was true, what was mouth service, and the bits he still had to think through.

“I’ve been asked to compile my own team – people I know and trust with the proper credentials, and go check this information out for myself. I’m reviewing files for recommended personnel this evening, and should have my team by the end of the week. The sooner, the better.”

“And you wish to take Sabrina?”

“Sabrina and Jean, preferably. Their skills would be an exceptional benefit, and their resumes are respectable for this mission. Did you have other thoughts?” He crossed his legs, leaning on the arm of the chair intently to hear Charles’ recommendations.

“I think they’re excellent choices, but I admit I am concerned – is there a chance this cure may be used on you during this examination? Without your consent?”

Hank sucked in a deep breath. “The thought had occurred to me, yes. However, I think that would be far too inflammatory for their cause. I anticipate full cooperation, and perhaps even a bit of schmoozing on their part.”

Charles nodded. “Very well. But if anything should seem off,” he began.

“I’ll call for backup, of course.” Hank stood. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m in desperate need of a shower and a hot meal.” This drew a chuckle from his friend and mentor.

“Of course. Oh, and Hank?” The younger man turned back to look at him. “Talk to Sabrina. Sooner, rather than later.”

……

The smell from the dining hall was enough to make Sabrina’s mouth water. She’d had a long day of classes, then Danger Room training with Scott and a handful of younger students, and she was absolutely famished. Most nights she’d take her plate to her room, the gardens, or even the library for a bit of quiet, but Danger Room training left her feeling antsy and anxious. She found conversations and distractions from the students helped settle her.

“How’d the kids do today?” Jean asked as Sabrina slid into a chair next to her. “Scott said you were going to be tackling introductory training.”

The blonde nodded, sighing. “I think all the fear and anxiety of this cure makes it a bit more essential now. If we can help them control their powers, especially in stressful situations, it will give them a sense of control and empowerment.” She stabbed a green bean, and stared at it with delight. “I love when Miss Abbie makes her green beans.”

“They need to feel safe,” Ororo added, joining them. “Anything we can do to encourage that will help.” She shot Sabrina a sly grin. “Which reminds me: I heard you had an interesting guest in class today.”

“Oh?” Jean tilted her head to the side, eyes twinkling. “Do tell.”

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “It’s just Hank working through his breakup with Trish, and using me as his rebound.”

Jean frowned, pursing her lips. “I don’t recall Hank ever rebounding before. You?” She asked Ororo.

“Nope,” the storm goddess replied, taking a bite of her own green beans, smiling the whole time.

“So then, it’s what?” Sabrina asked, cutting her Salisbury steak with irritation. “Because I find it hard to believe he suddenly looked up and saw me as a love interest.” She hacked at her food a bit harder. “He never noticed before,” she grumbled.

“Age gaps are a much bigger deal when you’re younger,” Jean said, watching Sabrina’s fork and knife with a touch of concern. “You really should talk to him about – Sabrina, I think it’s dead,” she said, stilling the utensils with her mind.

Sabrina froze, then shot her friend a perturbed glance. “I hate it when you do that.” Jean chuckled, turning to her own plate. “And just what am I supposed to say to him?” Sabrina asked, stabbing a piece of meat and bringing it to her lips. “Yeah, that make-out session was hot, but until you know what you want keep your distance?”

“Sounds good to me,” Ororo affirmed, lifting her water to her lips.

Sabrina frowned, staring at her food, then putting her fork back down. “I’m just finding it hard to believe someone like him would want someone like me. That’s all.”

The older women stopped, exchanging glances of concern. “Why?” Ororo prompted.

Sabrina held up her gloved hands. “Most men don’t like it when you’re privy to all their thoughts, feelings, and memories.”

“Kurt didn’t seem to mind,” Jean said softly. She knew better than to bring up Warren.

Sabrina smiled at the thought of the transporting mutant. “Kurt was a dear, and we were young. It would probably be different now. I mean, I’m sure now he’d expect...I mean,” she swallowed hard, waving a hand in the air. “It’s just I…,” she trailed off, blushing deeply.

“If you’re referring to a physical relationship,” Jean began, knowing full well it was exactly what Sabrina was talking about. “Then regardless of age your comfort and consent are still necessary. I don’t think Hank, or Kurt for that matter, would ever push you out of your comfort zone.”

Sabrina squirmed in her seat, refusing to meet her friend’s eyes. “Warren did.” Jean bit her lip. There it was. Warren had loved Sabrina, but he’d struggled with her powers, her limitations, and her comfort in a number of areas. She knew he’d used Hank as an excuse when he broke up with the blonde, and it was not a shining moment for him. “I guess I can’t blame him. When you love someone,” she started.

“...you respect their wishes,” Ororo finished, her eyes hard. She remembered the breakup as well as Jean. Sabrina nodded, stabbing at her food again, and trying hard to ignore the tears pricking at the back of her eyes.

“Professor Snow?” Sabrina’s head jerked up. Kitty was standing next to her looking hesitant and misplaced. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I…,” she held our an envelope to the older woman. “Dr. McCoy asked me to deliver this to you.” She shrugged and chuckled nervously. “Probably an apology for crashing class today, right?”

Sabrina forced herself to smile, nodding as she carefully took the envelope. “Thank you, Kitty.”

The younger woman nodded, turning and headed back to her table. Jean and Ororo didn’t say anything, but they watched the letter with curious eyes. Sabrina ran her gloved fingers over the sides of the letter, touching the corners carefully, as if they would prick her fingers. She thought about taking her gloves off, and consuming all the letter had to offer, but she opted against it, took a deep breath, and broke the seal.

My dearest Sabrina,

I must apologize for my brash behavior today – both this morning in the kitchen, and later in your classroom. I’m afraid I haven’t been myself as of late. Strange and unfamiliar feelings have consumed me, and at the heart of it all lies you.

Sabrina Fair, please let us converse on whatever is transitioning betwixt the two of us. I am afraid I have unnerved you or given you cause for trepidation, and if this is so I wish to atone. You have always been dear to me, and I would be crestfallen if I caused you pain.

Would you meet me tonight in the library after lights out? I would be forever thankful for the opportunity.

Yours,

Hank

Sabrina stared at the letter, blinking. “Wha….what?” She asked softly, clutching the paper, reading and rereading. “Seriously, what?”

Jean and Ororo exchanged glanced again. “Sabrina?”

“I don’t….I don’t understand,” the younger woman said, looking up at them. It was clearly Hank’s handwriting, and only Hank would use the word ‘betwixt’. But the letter…well, the letter seemed almost, kinda, sorta like a love letter. Or the potential for love, anyway. “Here.” She shoved the letter at Jean, eyes wide, thoroughly confused. “I don’t understand. Do you even know what this means?”

Jean’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the lines of the letter, a slow, happy smile spreading across her face. “Oh, Sabrina, yes,” she said, nodding, and handing the letter back to the blonde. “Yes, I know what the letter means.”

Sabrina blinked, still in a state of utter shock and confusion. “Well?”

“It means,” Ororo said, scooping up some mashed potatoes and grinning at her younger friend. “Hank finally has a crush on you.”

[marvelmaniac715]

Not quite sure what this even is, I have a vague idea, but I’ll just write stuff as it comes to me and tidy it up when I think it’s finished, hope you like it :).

————————————————————-

“You’re doing it again.”

Nica blinked before sighing wearily. One of the many downsides to having Chucky in her head was that he was able to read both her thoughts and her emotions, and seemed to think he was responsible for her well-being or something. It wasn’t entirely clear, but he wasn’t promising to kill her like he was back when he first entered her head. 

He’d tell her anecdotes from his past life, tell her jokes that had no reason to be as funny as they were considering who was telling them. Sometimes at night when she couldn’t sleep… he’d sing. And weirdly, he was actually good. He’d never sing typical lullabies, no, he claimed that wasn’t his style. Instead he’d sing songs from his youth, sometimes he’d delve deep into his past and try to remember the words to When You Wish Upon A Star. But she couldn’t leave him unanswered forever, he’d keep pushing until she gave in. So she asked him a question.

“Doing what?”

The answer was immediate.

“You’re thinking negative thoughts again. I told you, I don’t like it when you do that.”

Nica furrowed her brow in confusion. Negative thoughts? It’s true, she was thinking about how pathetic she was for not being able to defend herself and losing her entire family. They weren’t overly negative, they were just factual. Why would Chucky even care? She decided to ask him, it wasn’t like he had anywhere else he had to be, he had time to answer her questions.

“Negative thoughts? Why do you even care, Charles?”

That riled him up just like she’d hoped it would.

“If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times, it’s Chucky. Got it? Nobody’s ever full named me and lived, you’re lucky.”

But he didn’t answer her question, so she asked again.

“You’re dodging, why do you care?”

There was a prolonged period of uncomfortable silence filled only with the sound of breathing. It still felt weird to Nica that she could hear him breathing inside her head, how did the voodoo even work? Did all of his bodily functions work or was it just for effect to freak her out? He wouldn’t give her a straight answer about it, but either way it successfully kept Nica on edge. Eventually Chucky responded.

“I have to experience those thoughts too, so… I just don’t like it, happy?”

That clearly wasn’t the truth, she could tell by his hesitance. Chucky was a proud man (or doll, it wasn’t clear) but he’d started to open up more for some reason. If Nica pushed, she may get an honest response out of him. So she decided to try one more time.

“What are you not telling me?”

Even more silence. Even more heavy breathing. Nica decided to reach into his brain for a change and see what he was thinking about. His mind was a realm of darkness and chaos. His thoughts whipped around in a frenzied whirlpool, Nica found herself unable to keep anything straight. Words like ‘tell her’ and ‘the kid deserves the truth’ appeared at the forefront of his mind before disappearing again. 

With a sharp jolt, Nica was pulled from his brain, and she could almost feel him admonishing her for intruding despite him doing that every day. She knew when he’d been snooping because he would laugh or (strangely) chuckle fondly whenever Nica thought of certain memories. Before she could dwell on this further, she got a truthful answer.

“Look, I like you. You’re not bad, kid, and when you start thinking about stuff that’s kinda maybe my fault, I feel… guilty. And I don’t like feeling that way, it makes me start questioning my whole belief system, which, believe me, isn’t fun. Because deep down, I know I’m responsible for what happened to you, back before you were even born. For years I was fine with that, I never thought I’d get attached, hell, I don’t even like my own kids all that much. I guess what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry. You’d better treasure that apology Nica, cause it’s the only one you’re ever gonna get.”

Nica blinked again, this time in surprise. Chucky… liked her? And… he felt guilty? She hadn’t even known that something like that was possible, this was so weird. She didn’t like dwelling on the fact that Charles Lee Ray may just have humanity, a soul even, so she craved a distraction of some kind. Seemingly noticing this, Chucky spoke again.

“Hey, did I ever tell you about the time I stole a horse? Now, this story requires a lot of context, so bear with me here…’

[gwidien]

hc: loyalty. i think about how nobody in camp thinks trelawny is trustworthy or, at least, that there's some serious doubts as to his loyalties. how, really, this is understandable—trelawny does appear like a mysterious rash and does disappear just as mysteriously. i think about how, ultimately, they're wrong.

charles: you think he'll talk? arthur: 'course he'll talk. he'd sell his own sister to save a train fare. he don't know how not to talk.

when trelawny is taken by bounty hunters and beaten, battered, and threatened to divulge information about the van der linde gang, he doesn't squeal. he could have if he had no loyalties—it's like he said, they didn't come for him, so it's logical to assume that by being a traitor, he'd spare himself potential death and further pain. why not spill? but he doesn't. he lies about being an intellectual looking for work at a university near rhodes. he takes the beatings not knowing if he'd die for not cooperating. when they storm his caravan and pummel him until he leaves a trail of his own blood, he doesn't break. when they drag him to the cornfields teeming with armed men, he doesn't throw them under the bus. trelawny gave nothing away about the van der linde gang at no benefit to himself when the very opposite would have. that's loyalty.

arthur: thanks for disappearing on us during that sean business, by the way. trelawny: i'd done my part. each to their strengths, dear boy.

the thing is that trelawny, at the end of the day, is sensible. he didn't stick with the gang during the "sean business" not because of a lack of loyalty, but because of pragmatism. he knew he had nothing more to offer. he isn't a gunslinger or a fighter. there really would have been no reason for him to be at the shootout. this may look like disloyalty because it seems like he's true to them only when it's convenient, but it's less that and more that he played his part, and for him to stay would have been to the benefit of no one. loyalty, perhaps to arthur and the rest of the gang at this moment, is being there and by your side 24/7, but that's not how trelawny views it. as he proves with the bounty hunters, he's loyal when it counts.

similarly, this is partly the reason why he leaves the company of the van der linde gang for good. by this time in chapter 6, trelawny is fully aware that the group has broken down. dutch is not the leader they remember. the law like the force of an army is bearing down on them. they're not just fighting that, either, but each other, dividing and hostile. why not leave unannounced? he has no reason to stay and nothing more to offer them. dutch and micah, and to a lesser extent, javier and bill, are belligerent and antagonistic towards anyone who displays even a shred of doubt. trelawny could have done the thing he's good at and simply slipped away and spared himself the headache, but he doesn't. he packs up, uncharacteristically antsy, and tells arthur face-to-face that he's leaving despite his own trepidation. he gives arthur that respect and courtesy not knowing what the reaction would have been, if the others would have been tipped off, or if he'd gotten heat for it. he tells arthur despite these uncertainties, and not just because there's no point in him staying on a sinking ship, but because he considers arthur his honest-to-God friend.

i'm sure everyone already probably thinks all of this about trelawny, but the thought has been taking up prime real estate in my head and i had to put it down into words.

[nangel]

Paparazzi, part fifteen

✍︎ word count | 3826 words

✈︎ missing out parts? | series , part 1 , part 2 , part 3 , part 4 , part 5 , part 6 , part 7 , part 8 , part 9 , part 10 , part 11 , part 12 , part 13 , part 14

ꨄ author’s note: Scenes and dialogue used from 365 days - Sorry that it’s a little longer now… You can skip most if it probably

I fell in love…

We went to a nail salon because our nails were really done and grown out. While the nail artist did our nails we talked a lot. A girl date, just girls NO boys. I loved spending time with her because she was not only a best friend, she was a sister to me. “That looks so cute” she said looking at my nail art. “It’s giving girly-girl vibes” i said smirking and she nodded chuckling. “It does”

Charles was picking me up at seven in front of a cafe where Maureen and I got some coffee. Maureen gave me a kiss on the cheek and hugged me before I got into the taxi.

Charles opened the champagne and we celebrated in his hotel room. “I hope your friends are not mad at me for taking you from them” i said smirking. “No, no, I hope your girls are not mad at me because I stole you away” he said winking at me. “Maybe a little bit…but they understand it” i said smiling. “Olga seems like she wants to kill me every time I come by” he said grimacing. “That is true” i said chuckling. I took a sip of the champagne before we started eating.

We ended up cuddling on the couch. “I’m gonna fall asleep with you again” i said softly while he had me in his arms cuddled up. “I’m love that…but I’m gonna get you something comfy before” he said getting up and walking to the bedroom. He came back with a hoodie snd some shorts which already looked too big for me. “There you go” he said and I smiled. “Thanks” i said. “You can change in the bedroom” he said smirking and I laughed walking into the bedroom to change into his clothes. They smelled like him, they smelled like his cologne and I loved it. I came back and cuddled myself up again with him.

I woke up by him stroking my hair, I opened my eyes and was looking into his. “Morning” i said softly and he smiled at me. “Good morning, angel” he said softly with his hand on mu cheek, his thumb brushing over it. I smiled snd closed my eyes. I loved his touch, no matter where he touched me it always left a burn in a good way but this…it was something else…I could feel something in my stomach. Almost as if I had butterflies in it. “You look so beautiful even after waking up” he said with his thumb still brushing over my cheek. “Thanks” i said with a soft laugh. “I’m glad all of the shit is done” i said softly knowing that he knew what I meant. “Me too” he said kissing my forehead. “Now I’m gonna steal you away” i said proudly and he laughed. “I’m all yours, Maddy” he said and I smiled. “I have good news for you” he said rubbing his eyes with a sigh. “Spit it out” i said looking into his eyes. “I was checking tiktok and you are all over it” he said and I propped myself up by my elbow. “No” i said stunned. “Yeah there are a lot of edits about you and videos people took and I saw Maureen too” he said and I gasped excited. “Wow…that’s awesome” i said proudly. “You have a lot of views” he said and I smiled. “Well this may sound arrogant or selfish but I like that” i said and he cupped my cheek again. “That’s good…I want you to be happy” he said looking into my eyes and our eyes locked in a really romantic way and like that we stared into each other’s eyes without saying anything. Something came up to my mind and I immediately gasped. “I’m sorry I totally forgot I’m meeting up with Olga today” i said softly and he nodded. “Sure, go” he said and I stood up. “I’m changing” i said walking into the bedroom to change back into my clothes.

The whole time in the taxi while driving to the hotel I couldn’t stop thinking about Charles, the things we did, his touch, his eyes and how they looked in my eyes and really important how I felt with him. The feeling I had in my stomach and in my heart. Was I really having a crush on him?

As soon as I reached Olga’s hotel room I knocked frustrated. From outside I could hear that she was on a heavy call cause she sweared and talked in polish. She opened the door and looked at me with the phone between her ear and shoulder. She probably saw my frustrated face. “Maddy, nie ma kurwa mowy…” (no fucking way) she said almost speechless. “I wasn’t talking to you, I’ll call you back” she said over the phone putting it away looking at me worried. “What happened?” she added with a stressed sigh. I didn’t answer and walked straight into her hotel room. I stumbled over tons of clothes which were all over the floor to the living room. I sat onto the couch, legs spread, arms crossed. She followed me and gathered the clothes which laid around. She was swearing in polish and gathered clothes from the couch I was sitting on. “I am going to kill you” she said pulling on a dress which I sat on. I lifted my hips and she pulled on it to get it. I looked up at her annoyed and gave her a bra which laid next to me. “I thought something happened to you…you look as if someone kidnapped you” she said stressed. “Just tell me one thing okay?” she said walking around which made me stress and nervous. “What the fuck happened?” she added looking at me. “Charles happened” i said stressed out and she sat down next to me on the couch. “Did he piss you off?” she asked looking at me. “I fell in love” i said casually looking at the floor-to-ceiling window in front of us. She leaned forward and looked at me. “What the fuck?” she said softly.

I was lying on the couch with both hands behind my head looking up at the ceiling with Olga kneeling on the floor, leaning onto the couch and her arm propped up on my stomach. She looked at me waiting and listened to what I said. “Jesus I know it sounds ridiculous. I didn’t want it, things just happened” i explained. She nodded understanding and started to chuckle in disbelief. “Fucking great she said shaking her head. She swallowed and looked at me before sticking her elbow into my stomach, shaking me around impatiently. “Don’t make me force it out of you. Tell me if it is about Charles!” she said impatiently making me gasp and sigh. “It is…” i said and she looked at me speechless still propped up with one arm on my stomach. I couldn’t really tell anything out of her expression she was smiling but she also looked as if she would kill me now. “Fuck” she said smiling while shaking her head. “Olga shut up!” i said and she held me down. “Tell me” she said impatiently and I sighed taking a deep breath.

She was sitting on the dining table in the hotel room because we settled over and she played with her gum, pulling on it and putting it back into her mouth while I was running around in the kitchen which was right over her. “It’s so unfair, I should’ve noticed it but I didn’t…I mean I had those feelings when he touched me but today was different. I had butterflies in my stomach and I know it sounds cheesy but I’m telling how it is”i said walking around and she looked at me. While I explained everything she was grabbing a cigarette out of the package bringing it to her lips before lighting it. “When I am with him I feel like the little girl inside me is coming alive again and he makes all dreams come true somehow it’s like he’s a man written by a woman” i said softly leaning on the kitchen counter with a heavy smile. I turned around and used my hands while talking looking at her while talking. “He’s a gentleman but still has that man side you know? That one all woman like…this dominant side but still he is like…I don’t know…giving princess treatment with flowers and opening the door and all that shit” i said crossing my arms. “And the worst is…he looks incredibly hot…” i said frustrated and she exhaled the smoke. “I know…I saw him already a lot times” she said raising her eyebrows before dropping them down again with a sigh. “Enough times if you ask me” she added looking at me. “He looks like a fucking god, he’s tall like really tall in my opinion…he has a perfect body and he’s charming and when he smiles…it’s as if he was sculpted by god himself” i said dropping my arms. She smirked at me. “And what about his dick?” she asked smirking. “Is he also sculpted by god?” she asked smirking. I walked over to her and sat down on her thigh with her looking at me amused. “We didn’t come that far…but it looks promising” i said looking at her with a smile and she took another puff and nodded with a smile exhaling it in another direction. “Fuck me” she said amused taking another puff with me smiling at her. “So…what else about him?” she asked smirking and I sighed. “I woke up next to him again tomorrow and it was different…he cupped my cheek and it was…it was not how it was with the guys before” i said and she nodded. “I can tell” “And what he does for a living you already know” i said and she nodded. “He’s a race driver for formula one…that’s a big thing…good for you actually, you got a good catch” she said and I moved my head from side to side. “He’s monegasque and comes from a really good and old-money family…they probably don’t take a foreigner for wives” i said softly and she tilted her head unimpressed. “Come on, Maddy, you are french…that’s connected to Monaco somehow it won’t be that heavy” she said shaking her head. “I’m German too” i reminded and she rolled her eyes. She put out the cigarette and laughed shaking her head. “Right, now spare me the bullshit” she said crossing her arms in front of me. She cleared her throat. “Now tell me the real shit” she commanded and I looked away.

I was sitting on the chair in front of her while she looked at me and scanned me. She had already brought us a bottle of wine and I was downing it to the half in frustration. I put the bottle down and she took it with a look that was fully reprehensible. She downed the rest that was inside.

I stood at her mirror looking at myself with one hand on my forehead. “Olga, I’m fucked up!” i said frustrated and she was frustrated by now too with one hand on her forehead, not even looking at me. “I met a famous person who was in a relationship then we met some times with him even coming to Paris for me” i said walking around in the kitchen again with her nodding, remembering it. “And the worst is I then I even fell in love with him after he ended his relationship with Alexandra for me…I mean how pathetic is this?” i said, my blood boiling inside me. She just shook her head before putting both of her hand on her face. “And it comes even better, I don’t know what to do because I am starting to get a lot of views…I am a model and people start to I don’t know see me as someone special and famous too and let’s not forget about the photos where I was already spotted with Charles with no one knowing that this is me!” i said growing something between frustrated and mad with her looking at me breathing stressed. “That’s why you need to fucking back out. Do you understand?” she said looking at me. “Fuck Charles Leclerc, his ex-girlfriend, the spotted pictures shit and all the other mozzarellas” she said finally. She sighed looking around with me sitting down on her couch again. “It’s time for a change…all of this is confusing me and it’s making me go insane” i said and I could feel her gaze on my back. “A change of undies” she said with me looking at her. “We’re going out” she commanded walking away. “What?” i asked confused. She was already dressed in a basic outfit while I was changing into clothes of her and refreshing my face in the bathroom. I could hear her doing something in the living room and soon I heard loud music in the whole apartment. “Co robisz?” (What are you doing?) i shouted from the bathroom. “Uwarunkowam moich sąsiadów” (I’m conditioning my neighbours) she shouted back laughing.

“I should tell him” i said as I opened the curtain of the changing room. Olga opened the curtain next to me. “Are you insane?” she asked. “Why? It would be smart” i said and she laughed. “Smart as hell…fuck smart…we never were smart” she said in her green dress. “But it’s definitely better than tour plan” i said and she came to me. “Would it be mature? Yes. Will it solve your problem? No” she said grimacing. “Actually it would” i said but she shut me down. “Shh…I know exactly what you need now” she said smiling. “We’re gonna call Maureen and Annabelle and then we’re going out” she said smirking and I nodded. “Might help” i said tilting my head. “Will help” she said before getting her phone. “Dress up we need dresses for tonight” she said and I did as she said. I couldn’t even escape a call of Charles. Of course I told him that my friends need me and he understood that which was pretty good for me.

We were all dressed up and standing in an elevator on our way into a sky-bar. “Wow that’s like that one bar in Warsaw” i said amused and Olga nodded. “Yeah” she said determined in her blue dress with sleeves. I was wearing a red dress with straps that were over my shoulder, Maureen was wearing a green dress which matched perfectly with her eyes, Annabelle was wearing a black short dress which was backless and had s neck-holder. We saw the long line and Olga groaned. “We’re gonna wait a lifetime” Annabelle said frustrated and I smirked. “I don’t think so” i said as I walked to the security guards which was one man and a woman. “Hey” i said walking up to them as if i knew them. “Madeleine” the woman said surprised. “Hey girl” i said walking up to her. “You look gorgeous” she said and I smiled. “You too” i said smiling. “Hey we just came from a shooting we need some driiinks” i said vibing and she laughed. “Yeah go in” she said pointing at the man who immediately opened the barrier which was a rope. “Thank you” i said hugging her which she returned. I waved at my girls snd they followed. Maureen hugged get too and I hugged the man too “Thank you” i said to him and he nodded. “Hey! Line up!” a girl said and I grimaced. “Line up yourself” i said taking Olga’s hand as we walked right into the club. “Wow…unstoppable entrance to clubs” Olga said stunned and I smirked walking into the bar where loud music was and already people dancing. “Some advantage must this lifestyle have” i said amused and Maureen and Annabelle laughed. “I love the new Madlen…who is knowing her place and worth and entering the star-life” Olga said already taking a glass champagne. “Look at all those beautiful people” she said looking around definitely in love and in a happy mood. “Let’s get some drinks” i said smiling and Olga immediately made her way to the bartender. Annabelle was hugging me snd I laughed. “You really are a catch” she said amused and I laughed. “Come on, let’s dance” Maureen said taking my hands to dance with me. Even the music was perfect and with that we started dancing. We were dancing a lot and even having some drinks.

After all of the jumping, swinging and dancing I grew really thirsty. I pointed at Olga and she pointed at me with a nod. I walked to her and we walked together to the bar. “They never have enough” Olga said smirking as we looked over at Maureen and Annabelle who were dancing really interesting, as if they don’t want anyone near them. “That’s normal” she said and we stood at the bar with me playing with my brown hair which was curled on the ends. “Spritz?” she asked and I nodded. It became one of our favourites since it was sweet, refreshing but still getting you into intoxication. I ordered two of them and the bartender winked at me before preparing the glasses showing off hus skills at preparing the drink. It was with aperol which we adored, prosecco, soda and a slice of orange. He threw the bottle and put the orange on the rim of the glass before handing the glasses to us with a flirty smile. “Thanks” i said paying him before Olga and I clinked the glasses and took a big sip. “Mmmmh…still the best” she said, her hand over her heart. “Feels like back then” i said smirking, taking another sip. “She took another sip and the nudged me with her elbow nodding with her head to the other side of the bar. “Isn’t that Marc Guiu?” i asked squinting my eyes before opening them again confused. “It definitely is” she said smirking. “Probably visiting England” i said shrugging my shoulder. “A famous soccer player…would look good on you” she said smirking taking another sip with me punching her arm. “He said s not a dress you put on and after all I am in a…” i started but stopped then, realising something. “Say it…you’re in a situation-ship” she said and I took a sip of my drink. “I’m…” i started. “Say it…it’s the truth…you’re in a situation-ship…how did that happen…” she said before adding. “Your mother would kill you, you know your worth and let him put you into an emotional struggle…I would kill you too as an independent woman” with a raised eyebrow which made me down the drink. “I need another one” i said and she downed her too. “Me too” she said as she walked to the bar. I was looking over at Marc Guiu. I hated that Olga was right. I promised myself when I was a little younger that I would never let a situation-ship get to me. Now I was in the middle of one. I really asked myself who I had become… Technically I wasn’t together with Charles and the more I thought about it, the mosre I noticed how I despised myself and my character and my independent feminine side. I wanted to throw up and turned away with Olga handing me another one. “Thank you” i said and she nodded. “Mhm” she murmured as we took a sip in sync looking at Marc. “I heard that he has a girlfriend now” she said eating her orange slice. “Really? Good for him, relationships are shit” i said rolling my eyes. “Saw it on his private insta and tiktok but I’m not sure” she said shrugging her shoulders. “She would be here with him, right?” i asked her and she just tilted her head.

We finished our drinks as we leaned over to grab some orange slices out of the bowl. The bartender set another glass in front of Olga. “From the guy over there” he said to Olga and Olga nodded looking over at the guy with me doing it too. “Mmh” she murmured and I shook my head. “Nuh-uh” i murmured and she put the slice away, spitting the kernel into an empty glass “Nope?” she asked and I smirked. “No” i said drinking my last glass of aperol. She took a sip of her new one before turning to me with a smirk. I knew what would happen next and she leaned in to give me a quick kiss with our lips barely touching. I smirked at her and then at the guy. She walked over and he whispered something into her ear with her nodding with a laugh before he led her away. She gestured me to take her glass because she took hus with her. I just shook my head laughing, downing my drink. I looked over at Maureen and Annabelle who were still dancing. I sighed and looked a last time at Marc, he was in the club with his friends and I made my way over to him. I tapped his shoulder. “Hey” he said smirking down at me. “Hi, you’re the soccer player, right?” i asked amused. “Marc” he said holding his hand out. “I know, hello, Marc, it’s nice to meet you” i said shaking his hand. “You’re Madeleine Sinclair” he said amused and I nodded grimacing. He crossed his arms over his chest with me trying to get my phone out of my bag. “Can we take a picture? I’m collecting pictures with all celebrities I met” i said amused and he laughed. “Of course, you’re a celebrity yourself” he said and I smiled. “True” i said confidently. “Well actually I should ask you, you look adorable and you are a really good model” he said smirking and I thanked him. He handed my phone to hus friend who took photos of us. Marc wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I made a peace m-sign with my hand. “What are you doing here?” he asked me after I got my phone back , thanking him. “Visiting England and its clubs” i said confidently. “Bueno…we are going quite the same” he said smirking and I nodded. “I need to get back to my friends but thanks for the picture” i said and he held me back. “If you want you could bring them here…as a group partying is more fun” he said amused and I shrugged my shoulders. “I’ll ask them” i said walking away.

Next part

[bellarkeselection]

Hello there! Could I request a Charles Xavier fic please? One where Charles has feelings for reader but won’t admit it, and reader is completely oblivious. So, it’s down to Erik to find a way to make Charles confess. Thank you! 💜

Professor X's Matchmaker

Erik had about enough of Charles rambling on about you and how he wished he knew if you felt the same. His Telepath friend had found one person in the world his powers couldn't reach. Yes its true that he couldn't read your mind. Although Erik knew that he wouldn't do it unless you gave him permission if he actually could like everyone else in the world. In this moment he watched his friend from inside the house window. Charles was leaning on the railing watching you reading a book underneath his grandfather tree, his favorite tree to play on as a child. Erik decided then and there that he would find a way to make him confess because he could tell you were oblivious to Charles's massive crush on you.

Later in the day Erik walked over to his friend carrying a clipboard in his hands with a note to give to Y/n. "Charles could you give this to Y/n. I think she left it in her room?" He shrugged his shoulders walking onto the grass not thinking anything of it. Lifting my gaze up from my book I saw Charles coming over to me. "Y/n Erik says the notes for you." He hands me a piece of paper so I unfold it reading the words I have a crush on you. With an arrow pointing right up at Charles. "Charles, I think you should see this." Handing the note back to him he cursed under his breath at his friend. "Bloody hell Erik." I snorted a laugh seeing the confidence of the mam before me disappear in seconds. "Y/n, I - uh - I didn't expect him to put me in this position. And you're probably wondering is it true, yes. But if you don't feel the same way then - I'll just go." He tried to turn away but Erik moved thr clipboard in Charles's other hand making him stumble down ontop of me. Charles and I both grunted when our lips accidentally landed ontop of each other.

My mind races a mile a minute at what is happening. That Charles Xavier is kissing me right now. I have buried my feelings deep down thinking that he wouldn't like me. Considering he was chatting it up with the CIA Agent Moria. His right hand cups my face gently kissing me softly until I broke it hearing clapping from behind us. "My plan worked perfectly. You'll thank me for this someday Charles." Erik chuckled down as we both held ourselves on our elbows in the grass. Charles shakes his head side to side blushing bright red. "We'll be talking later my friend." Erik shrugged his shoulders waving bye leaving us alone. "So Charles...would you be mad if I said...I secretly have a crush on you." I sit up rubbing the back of my neck feeling that I am still blushing like crazy. The Telepath eyes me for a moment brushing his thumb over my cheek pulling me in for another kiss. This time I wrap my arms around his neck enjoying it smiling back at him. He broke it grinning like a child mirroring my grin. "Can I take you out for dinner tonight?" Giving him a kiss on the cheek I pulled him to his feet. "Yes you may, Professor X."

Comments really appreciated ❤️

I am sorry I am terrible at remembering tag lists on my main blog 😢 @makeshift-prime

@rosie-posie08

@groovy-lady

[enchantestuff]

miscommunication - charles leclerc

in which your Pierres little sister and reap the consequences after an eventful night in Monaco with his best friend

I think I'm going to make this into a series, like 3 more parts maybe??

part two

GIF NOT MINE!!!

warnings: smut, my failed attempt at angst (I tried), language, em yeah

3k words (I have no idea how that happened) 

You had known Charles for years, which wasn't particularly surprising considering you were Pierres little sister.

When you were little you envied their friendship, constantly trying to insert yourself in their games and conversations. You had lost count of the amount of times they slammed a door in your face, demanding you to leave them alone. You hadn’t realised how annoying you were being as you followed them around everywhere, even if Pierre had scolded you for it each day.

When you were a teenager, Pierre purposely kept Charles away from you, telling him that if he even looked in your direction he wouldn't hesitate to end their friendship. You, of course, had no idea of the threat not that it mattered as you didn't paid any attention to the infamous duo during those few years, living in your own little world full of clothes , friends and different boys.

Now, however, you were an adult and all you wanted to do was support your brother throughout his career. In recent years you had gone to as many races as you physically could, but of course you had your own job and unfortunately didn’t have the time to attend any race this season.

Pierre was disappointed, he loved having you there to support him, but he understood that you had your own life and never placed any blame on you. After years of the two of you constantly ignoring each other and bickering, you had finally begun to act like siblings and all he wanted to do was make up for lost time.

You had thankfully gotten three weeks off work - well they weren’t necessarily weeks off as you still had to do your job, but your boss insisted that there was no need for you to trek to the office everyday when you were perfectly capable of doing the work at home on your laptop. The timing couldn't have been better with the triple header just around the corner, it almost seemed like a miracle and you were gonna enjoy every minute of it.

You grinned as you texted your brother.

Any spare tickets to the race :)

He replied almost immediately.

You're kidding, which one?

All of them?

Your texting was cut off by Pierres contact photo appearing on your phone. You answered instantly only to hear Pierre screaming through your speakers, he also slipped in a few delighted curse words before finally letting you talk.

“My boss gave me the next three weeks off so I’m going to go support my favourite brother” you grinned.

“Your only brother” he remarked and you could practically hear him rolling his eyes.

You spent the next few hours catching up and retelling pointless stories. You had gone to sleep with a lazy smile on your face and  woke up the next morning to a text from Pierre, telling you that he had organized your passes for the three weekends as well as the flights, all you had to do was find a hotel. He slipped in the name of the hotel that he was staying at, and to your luck there was still room available. Now all that was left to do was wait.

You grinned giddy as you stepped off the plane and walked toward the baggage collection area, excited to finally get back to watching races in person. You rubbed your eyes in surprise when you spotted your brother waiting for you. “Pierre?” you screamed delightly, running up to him and pushing his body into a bone crushing hug. It felt like you hadn’t seen him in forever even if it was only a few months.

“Bonjour,” he laughed as he hugged you back.

“I thought you were busy all day today” you exclaimed once you pulled away from him.

He sheepishly shrugged at you with a lazy grin on his face. “I may have lied, are you ready to go?”

You nodded your head at him and for the first time in a long time your mind drifted towards your brother's best friend, Charles, who you hadn’t spoken to since an eventful night in Monaco a few months ago.

You cursed yourself as you thought back to that very moment.

Charles was having a party at his lovely home, you can't remember now what you were celebrating but everyone was ecstatic. You could hear the music from across the street and you knew before you even entered the house that it was going to be a night to remember.

The moment you stepped foot inside you were surrounded by multiple drunk people, all with large grins and hooded eyes plastered on them and you laughed as almost everyone stumbled around the house.

You spotted your brother in the middle of the room dancing with a pretty blonde, he had a goofy smile on his face and you knew from that sight of him alone that he was wasted. You were the only sober person there, at least that's what you thought until Charles had made his way to you with two cups in his hand, alcohol for you and water for him.

“I thought you were celebrating,” you mused as you took a sip of the dark liquor.

“Someone needs to keep these drunk idiots in check,” he joked.

“Well in that case” you said as you handed your drink to a stranger and took a sip of his water instead. You laughed at the bewildered look he threw your way before continuing, “I'm not going to let you tackle this party alone.” The smile that formed on Charles was genuine and your breath hitched in your throat at the sight.

You surprisingly enjoyed yourself the whole night, maybe that was because you knew everyone there, but most likely it was because you spent the whole night with Charles.

A few hours into the party he turned to you asking to dance, you didn't even hesitate to say yes, nerves surrounded you immediately and they only got worse when his hands dipped dangerously low on your hips. Your eyes automatically searched for Pierre and you left out a sigh of relief when you couldn't find him anywhere.

The thought of getting caught fueled both you and Charles, so when he spun you around to face him neither of you hesitated to connect your lips. You considered yourself lucky that everyone around you was too drunk to notice your heated make out and used it to your advantage. You pulled him even closer to you, moaning in his ear when he grabbed your bum and giggling at the whimper he let out.

You felt dizzy. The fact that you were both sober made your first kiss even more real.

You were anxious when he asked you if you wanted to go somewhere more private but agreed nevertheless, hoping that maybe he had wanted you for as long as you had wanted him.

He had tenderly kissed you again once he closed the door behind him.

“God, you have no idea how long i've waited to do this,” he moaned in your ear and although you knew that was just something people said in the heat of the moment, you let yourself believe it. You let yourself believe every single word that left his lips and got even more attached to the moment.

You revealed a piece of yourself to him that night, not only a physical part, but a part of your heart as you admitted your deepest secrets to him. “Fuck, Charles, I’ve always wanted you,” you moaned when he gently placed you on the bed.

You attached yourself to the kisses he placed all over your body, you paid attention to every bit of affection that he showed you, never once wanting him to stop. When he positioned himself next to you and asked if you were sure you told him there was nothing you've ever been more sure about.

You had both simultaneously moaned when he entered you, laughing at each other afterwards, which made your heart flutter. He was Charles, your brothers best friend and yet sex with him felt so natural.

He placed a tender kiss to your chest before he started moving and you couldn't help but hold him close to you, he didn't seem to mind however as he nested his head in the crook of your neck, letting you hear all the soft gasps and grunts that left his mouth.

You arched your back in pleasure when he reached the deepest parts inside you, your toes curled and your eyes rolled back and all you could think was God why didn't we do this sooner?

“Don't stop, please Charles, don't stop” you moaned in his ear, and if you weren't in a completely different world you would have noticed the shiver than ran down his entire body at your words.

“Trust me, mon amour, i never want to stop”

You weren't even aware of the moans the left your lips until Charles had grabbed your chin and looked at you with desperation written all over his face, “Merde, Y/N, i want more than anything to make this moment last but If you keep making those pretty little sounds you're gonna make me cum”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words “Shut me up then”

And he did, he grunted as he reconnected your lips, swallowing your moans and letting out his own in the process. From the kissing, to Charles’ moans and the rolling of his hips it didn't take you long to release the knot in your stomach.

You regretted it now, thinking back on it, it had completely ruined your friendship with Charles. Your daily silly texts to each other had ceased to exist, your weekly facetime calls had died and a piece of you had broken.

You didn’t expect any less, he was your brother's best friend and even though you always found him insanely attractive, you knew deep down he would have found your little crush on him weird. You always had the suspicion that he saw you as a little sister, and the way he completely ignored you after your hookup had proven them to be true.

You couldn't hate him, or even place the blame of your failed friendship on him as you also went out of your way to ignore him, something that you really regretted but couldn’t change.

“You alright?” Pierre asked as he grabbed your suitcase in his hand.

“Yeah sorry i - i don't know what happened to me there,” you choked out, walking alongside Pierre to his car.

“It's free practice tomorrow, you coming?” he asked once you were both sitting comfortably in his car.

“Yeah, of course” you nodded as you watched the tall buildings pass by in the window.

“Everyones misses you, you know?” he quickly glanced over at you while he drove, wondering what the hell you were thinking so hard about.

“Yep” you sighed, “Me too,” but all you could think about was the Ferrari driver and how awkward it would be to see him again

You had shut yourself in your hotel room for the rest of the night, the flight and overly long check in had taken all the remaining energy out of you and all you wanted to do was curl into the hotel bed and sleep for as long as you possibly could. So that's what you did, until Pierre rang your phone, telling you that he was leaving for free practice in half an hour, wondering if you needed lift, which of course you did you had mumbled to him while scrabbling out of the bed and running to your bathroom to take the quickest shower of your life.

You had somehow gotten ready in time and before you knew it you were walking around the paddock with Pierre next to you, basking in the glorious sun.

Pierre whistled in excitement when he spotted Charles walking out of the Ferrari motorhome. The brunette quickly turned at the sound, a smile forming on his face when he spotted Pierre, his eyebrows raising soon after as he finally noticed you next to him. Your heart beat loudly in your chest as he got closer and closer to you.

You stood firmly in your spot, uncertain if a hug would be too big of an action after months of silence between you both, quite frankly you didn’t even want to touch him, the pain that he had caused you cutting too deep. Unfortunately, he beamed at you and grabbed your hips, pulling you into his chest and rocking you both side to side.

“Hi,” you laughed, unwilling to cause a scene in front of your brother, you moved your arms to wrap around his neck.

“It's great to see you” he admitted when he pulled away and you felt your throat close up at his words. “I’ve missed you”

“I missed you too,” you smiled and although it wasn’t a lie, the words felt dirty leaving your lips. You shouldnt have missed him, not when he left you lying alone in his bed after you both had sex.

“God, you're acting like you haven't spoken to each other in months,” Pierre laughed, and you and Charles shared an awkward look with each other. The silence that followed was unbearable.

You cleared your throat as you looked around the paddock. “I'm going to get some water” you quickly spilled out and abruptly turned in the other direction, ignoring the confused look that Pierre shot in your direction. You had only taken a few steps when Charles grabbed your arm and pulled you behind a random building.

“Shh it's me” he flinched as you pushed yourself away from him, “it's me” he repeated looking at the bewildered expression on your face.

“You couldn’t have just talked to me like a normal human being?” you argued, “Did you really have to drag me behind a building?”

“I couldn't talk about you know what around you know who” he threw back and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh! You dont want to talk about us having sex infronf of Pierre” you snapped and he covered your mouth with his hand. You bit his hand and he gasped in response.

“You bit me!” he half shouted.

“You didn’t seem to mind last time” you commented , relishing in how flustered Charles had gotten.

“We need to talk about that” he choked out, looking absolutely anywhere except your eyes.

“Oh so now you want to talk about it?” you asked with an accusing tone to your voice, surpringing not only Charles but also yourself.

“I know it was a dick move, I just” he sighed “I didn’t know how to bring it up”

“How about maybe not leaving straight away? How about sending me a text explaining how you felt instead of leaving me in the dark for months? If you thought it was a mistake you could have just-”

“I didn't think it was a mistake”

You couldn't help the effect those words had on your heart, but suddenly you were even more furious, he was unintentionally playing with your heart and you didn't know how much more of it you could take.

“Then why didn't you tell me!”

You were frustrated and he wasn’t helping one bit. He had left it too late, the damage was done, you had spent months regretting your decision to climb into bed with him and a few words lazily strung together to form a sentence wasn't going to erase the emotional damage he caused you. It didn't matter anymore whether it was intentional or not

“I didn't want to ruin our friendship”

“That is the dumbest excuse I've ever heard!”

You could feel tears pricking your eyes and all you wanted to do was sob your heart out, but you refused to cry in front of him, you didn't want him to know the effect he had on you. “Look your late and i - i need to breathe”

You didn't give him a chance to reply as you ran away, unable to face the boy who broke your heart: the boy who had given you everything you could possibly want, only to snatch it out of your grasp.

You cursed yourself for getting attached to that moment because now, every time you closed your eyes, all you see was him panting on top of you and all you could feel was his lips on your skin. It was a memory that used to delight you but now all it brought was sadness and pain.

You knew your attachment issues would bring you pain one day, but only now as you crouched down next to some random building, did you realise it would be physical pain. You clawed at your neck in desperation. You couldn't breathe. Your tears were practically suffocating you and you couldn't help but think Charles' hands ripping your heart from your chest was the cause.

Unknowingly to you, Charles watched your retreating figure with tears forming behind his eyes. It had finally hit him how much he fucked things up. He thought he was doing the right thing, he thought maybe you needed space, maybe you would have regretted it.

He wore his heart on his sleeve that day, everything that he told you was true, he was just so scared. So scared that he would be left heartbroken, that his feelings were unrequited, that maybe, just maybe, you would be disgusted with yourself for what you two did.

He left early the next morning to hype himself up, to finally tell you about his feelings for you that had been bubbling around in his stomach for years, but when he returned to his bedroom you were gone.

He didn't realise how much waking up to an empty bed would affect you, just as much as you didnt realise how much leaving would affect him.

He was never good at communication, but it was so easy with you, so why didn't he pick up the phone? He had no excuse except that he was scared.

It was his fear that hurt him the most. It was his fear that broke your heart and that had hurt him so much more than he thought was possible.

[letarasstuff]

Normal People don't know their IQ

(A/N): Inspired by me, who recently discovered normal people don’t know their IQ, while I was tested two or three times already...

Summary: A certain someone is the only way to get the UnSub. But there’s also something different that makes her special.

Warnings: Angst (fluffy end, I swear), language, mentions of rape and torture, mention of dead people, the usual CM stuff I guess Wordcount: 2.0k

✨Masterlist✨ _________________________________________

“Garcia, I need you to look into high school teachers, who are suspended or fired for inappropriate behavior towards students and live in the area of the kidnappings”, Hotch orders in a stern voice. But you can’t blame him, after all there are currently six dead teenage girls and one missing. One can only hope and work as fast as possible to get her back to her parents alive.

The team is working a case in Sacramento, California. Teenage girls get abducted on their way home from school, are held for exactly a week and are killed by a simple cut to their throat. The torture they have to endure beforehand isn’t as simple. The last two also show signs of rape.

The dumbing sites are different parks all over the city. The placing happens overnight only to have the girls found the next morning by a clueless jogger or stroller.

“Let’s go over the profile again, I feel like we are missing something”, Rossi commands. His gut feeling tells him only that much, he just has to find out what it is.

“It’s a white male in his mid thirties to late forties. He blends in, so he has to be or has been a teacher. Someone who looks like they belong into a school isn’t suspicious”, Spencer counts the facts.

“The victims all look similar, probably resembling an ex-wife or girlfriend”, Morgan adds. Before he can get into the depth of the torture a phone rings.

“My lovely crime fighters, I got an address. Charles Collins. philosophy and history. Got suspended for suggestive talk towards his female students. He is also said to stare at them and certain body parts for way too long and way too obvious. Gross. Annnd that- wait”

“What is it, Garcia?” Hotch asks after a moment of silence, which is unusual for the ever bubbly tech analyst.

“You got your profile wrong. Collins doesn’t take these girls because of an ex flame.”

The team looks at each other in confusion. Garcia always stresses how she isn’t a profiler and can’t judge over people, because she only wants to see the good in them. How is she able to tell that the profile is off?

“Shoot baby girl, we don’t have much time left”, Derek urges her. He wants nothing more than to have this SOB finally behind bars. The whole team wants that.

“He has a daughter. Technically it’s not his daughter, it’s someone else’s, but he is her foster father. Go and please save both girls!”

Penelope doesn’t have to say it twice. After a brief thank you and goodbye the team is on their way to the given address. As soons as they get there, everyone notices the absence of a car in the driveway. Hotch sends Spencer, Emily and Derek through the back door, the rest goes in from the front.

“FBI! OPEN UP!”

It’s needless to say that nobody opens up. There is no other way than kicking the doors down.

After entering the house and clearing the first floor, Rossi points towards the stairs that leads to the first story. There are only two rooms. A bathroom right hand and a closed door left hand.

Morgan counts quietly down before also kicking this door down and screaming “FBI!” But he seemingly talks with air, because there is no one to be found. Once again the team swarms out to look for evidence or clues.

As Spencer looks through the room they cleared last, he sees various things that make him smile. Several bookshelves are flooded with all kinds of genres, authors and covers. At first he can’t make out in which way they are sorted. But a closer look makes him realize that they are sorted by the author’s birth year. The doctor is kind of impressed, because that means the person knows when they are born in order to find a certain book. He likes the idea, it is a nice little challenge.

While he investigates further a sound makes him stop. He sends a text to Emily and waits for her. When she enters the room Spencer gestures to her to keep it quiet. Then he points to the bed.

They lower themselves down to the floor at the same time on each side of it. A girl, no older than 14 years, lays there shivering in angst. With big doe eyes she looks at Spencer and whispers:

“Please don’t hurt me.”

A while later the team is back at the station with the girl sitting in one of the interrogation rooms. The temperature is already set down, though Hotch feels really bad for it. Still there is another girl out there waiting to be safed.

“Baby girl, what can you give us on her?” Morgan sets his phone in the middle of the table and switches the speaker on.

“Our little girl’s name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N), fourteen years old. Parents were deemed to be unable to look after her since they are both heavy drug addicts and didn’t even register her crying for two hours straight. Since the age of six months she bounces through the system with nobody wanting to keep her longer than two years. They claim she is too smart for them and want somebody to look after her, who can challenge her intellectually.

“Collins took her in one and a half years ago. He got her signed up in several activities after school, like chess and academic decathlon. As of right now she is a junior with an opportunity to graduate next year. Her teachers describe her as incredibly bright with a complicated way of thinking.”

“Complicated way of thinking? Her intelligence was neglected for years, so she gave herself her own challenges. I found her books sorted by the birth year of the authors. She found ways of making things more difficult for herself, that’s why she fabricated strange ways of thinking. This is often found in children with high intelligence, who are not boosted enough by their environment”, Spencer explains, getting more and more furious.

His colleagues feel that this is a sensitive subject for their resident genius. JJ comfortably puts a hand on his shoulder, making the tense go away.

“Emily and Dave, I want both of you to interrogate her. We need to know where he hides the girls. JJ, try to hold the press off for a bit longer. Morgan, Reid, I want you to watch and look for tells or anything else”, Aaron orders.

Everyone works on their given task immediately.

You don’t need to be a profiler to see that (Y/N) is scared out of her mind. She has her feet on her chair and her head lies on her knees. When the two agents enter, she tries to at least fake some kind of composer. But she fails miserably at it.

“Hello (Y/N), may I call you that?” Emily begins in a soft voice. The teenager nods shyly. “Good, (Y/N). My name is Emily Prentiss and this is David Rossi. We are agents from the Behavior Analysis Unit from the FBI. Do you know why you are here?” The teenager shakes her head.

“Ok, let’s cut the chase”, David's voice booms through the small room. “You know exactly why you are here. From what we saw in your room you are an incredibly smart girl. How high is your IQ? 130? 135?”

“147 a-actually”, she nervously corrects the agent, never meeting his eye. The team notices this fairly quickly.

“Even better, normal people don’t know their IQ. So you know what your forster father does. You saw the news, you read the papers, you heard your classmates talk. In addition to that, the girls look alarmingly similar to you. And all of the sudden Charles is more often out than usual. So do us a favor and come clear.” Then he pulls out a picture from a manila folder on the table. Emily tries to intervene.

“Rossi, don’t. She is not the UnSub. (Y/N) is just unfortunate to be at the wrong place.” “She might as well be another UnSub if she doesn’t do anything to help us. Do you know how long you are going to jail for helping hi-”

“I don’t know anything. I- of course I saw what is h-happening. A-and I connected the dots a long time a-ago. You know, Charles lost his job and that’s a stressor. T-then Child Service was investigating him, because of the suspension’s reasons. I-I couldn’t do anything. I had no evidence, the police wouldn’t believe me. I asked him once wh-what he thinks about, you know, what’s happening. He slapped me and told me to not talk about it again. I’m so sorry, I wanna help. The only thing that comes into my mind is an old cabin he once mentioned when I first arrived at his. B-but I don’t know if it helps you. P-please, I don’t want to go to jail or juvenile, I-” Then (Y/N) breaks down into tears.

Emily is in an instant by her side trying to calm her down, while Hotch gives the information to Garcia. As soon as she finds the location, JJ takes a seat next to (Y/N) and the rest of the team flies out.

“You don’t have to be scared of him anymore, Sweetheart. My colleagues will find him and he will be tried and convicted. He will never be a threat to you again”, the blonde tries to comfort her.

“Whenever I leave an abusive home, there will be another one that’s exactly the same. The only difference with Charles was that he seemed to understand me. He helped me. There’s nobody who is willing to do what he did for me”, she admits sadly.

It breaks JJ’s heart, because her words are true. Even though he is a killer, Collins did help her. But she is also determined to show the young girl that he isn’t the only one who can do that. That there are more people out there, who are kind and as helpful if not more.

Not long after this the team brings the man into the station, Morgan guiding him with a deadbolt-like grip.

Rossi spots (Y/N) in a break room with a hot drink in her hands. While making his way over there, Spencer follows him. He wants to talk with her as well.

“(Y/N) I’m sincerely sorry if I hurt you earlier. I didn’t intend to scare you, we just had to act quickly and you were the only source of information available. I also wanted to tell you, that your achievements are astonishing and I guarantee you a bright future, maybe even at the FBI”, he winks at the end of his last sentence.

“I understand, Agent Rossi. But doesn’t everybody know their IQ? I assumed everybody gets at least tested once in their life in some way”, she asks with surprise in her voice.

At that the older man is speechless. Of all things she could accuse him of legitimately, (Y/N) goes with the most innocent question.

“Actually, not everybody gets tested. A reliable test has to be done by a psychologist and most people don’t go to one. Furthermore there has to be a valid reason to do one, that’s why a great part of the population doesn’t know their IQ”, intervenes Spencer. He has to infodump, since the last time was over half an hour ago.

“But you also have to differentiate between the several kinds of intelligence, because intelligence is way more than being good at math. There…”

Rossi stopped listening to the excited interaction between the two geniuses. Instead he watches their body languages and facial expressions. He hasn’t seen both of them more at calm than they are now.

After all there might be a way for (Y/N) to get a little Happy End.

[mrpenguinpants]

Diluc: Comfort HCs

Oh no worries anon! We’re getting through everything and I can just see the top. I’m not sure if people saw it - probably not - but my entire blog has devolved into “See this genshin character? Animal.” and I refuse to have another cat character so I’m making Diluc a hawk.  

Apparently (maybe) Diluc’s bird is a nightingale [voicelines]. But I don’t really see Diluc the kind of guy to serenade you at night in secret because your father doesn’t approve of your marriage.

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Today’s appreciation post goes to fulltimeventisimp. Tumblr throws a goddamn fit when I try to tag people (even though I literally have a tag list but that’s apparently not good enough) so I hope you see this^^ You’ve been so nice and caring to me I feel so soft 😭 and I hope you’re doing alright! I’m remembering to take breaks and rest  💕💕

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Semi Part 1: Relationship HCs [I would read this just for the last point]

Diluc Ver: Jealous HCs

[Masterlist]

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[taglist]  <- if you want to be added, please read this first.

@hanniejji​  @mikeysbike​ @unionwitch​ @musekala​ @twistedsunnshiii​ @stanzastic​ @akaasea​ @xoneaboveallx​ @adoring-ghost​ @asheseiler​ @childelover​ @dilucsz​

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Diluc: Comfort HCs

Diluc has always had either an aloof or professional persona based on who he needed to talk to. In both cases, no matter the subject or how Diluc talked, there would always be some sort of forced distance so no one would mistaken it as familiarity or friendliness. There were only a two cases where he felt comfortable and those were with close friends and his staff. The third case being Kaeya but Diluc prefers to not acknowledge him and stashes that folder away. Even with friend’s such as Jean or Elzer, he could never really relax and let his true feelings slip until you burst into his life. Literally. “An unexpected outcome of an experiment,” is what Albedo had told him but regardless, since you entered his life he’s let himself regress into his younger days and let himself take for once.

Maybe that was why you had gotten so used to Diluc’s touched starved self that, when it was suddenly gone, you were feeling uneasy. Lately Diluc seemed to be spending longer hours at his desk or working at the tavern. You knew that he was just busy and there wasn’t any underhanded reasoning behind it, Diluc wasn’t that kind of guy. But did he seriously have to spend every waking moment, day or night, talking to the same people? When was the last time you saw him for more than two minutes? Diluc isn’t a big fan of idle talking but would it seriously hurt just to catch up? You didn’t even get together to have your weekly chess matches too.

You didn’t consider yourself a very clingy person and you knew what a relationship with Diluc was going to be like so why were you getting so bothered? You decided to take the situation in your hands and go visit him at the tavern only to see him so busy at work. It both made you a bit huffy, you wanted to storm in there and drag the man away from his work so he could stop trying to speed run life - not like that would ever happen because the second hand embarrassment would make you dissolve into the ground and you could never show your face to Diluc if you actually did that - but also making you more upset. Here he was, working and running his business, and you couldn’t go at least a couple weeks without seeing him. You ended up turning around and going home to scream into your pillow and sleep the heavy feeling away.

Your inner turmoil seemed to seep out into the open that Kaeya felt the need to bring it up. As much as Diluc dislikes Kaeya around you, he really does care about you and he still does owe you for the troubles he gave you when you first started going out with Diluc. He catches you while you’re off running errands and manages to coax you into getting some lunch with him. You’ve been bottling up your feelings so much that when Kaeya shows some concern you let it all pour out. At this point you don’t care if it’s Kaeya of all people you’re confessing your feelings to, you just want to get it off your chest because the man you’re in love with doesn’t seem to notice you’re actually there and it’s making you feel insecure about yourself. Kaeya gives you a sympathetic smile and tells you not to worry about it, he’ll personally knock some sense into Diluc.

Diluc’s been hard at work on another possible Fatui plan and business with the winery that he can’t help but feel that he was missing something. Was he overlooking something? He had planned this for a while so everything should be perfect. It wasn’t until Kaeya himself had to walk in, press his hand on the tavern counter, and call him an idiot that he realizes that he had been so wrapped up in his work and personal duties that he completely neglected you. He quickly passes his duties to Charles with a quick apology, throws his coat on, gives Kaeya a very strained thank you, and he’s out the door to find you. He’s already lost so much so he’ll be damned if he looses you. Not right now. 

You gave him the key to your home after a few months of being together, in case his he needed to temporarily hide should his night activities get the best of him. He’s already at your door in seconds as he quickly unlocks and steps in. 

“Beloved?” he softly calls out to not accidently scare you but he receives no reply. It’s dark inside but he can see your shoes at the door so he knows you’re inside somewhere. He softly closes and locks the door as he hangs his coat up. Carefully running a hand down the fabric and beside your coat as he looks around your small home. He’s always felt it was warm even when you weren’t here. The “home” he has will always be the place he grew up in but after everything that’s happened, he feels a bit alienated in there so he always appreciated that you lent him a key.

He catches the sound of some shuffling and follows the sound to see you under your blankets. He breathes a quick sigh of relief that you weren’t in any danger as he carefully circles around your bed before gently placing a hand on your back. He’s never been good at words or communicating his feelings so he’s at a bit of a standstill. Despite his reputation of being a nobleman of high esteem, you’re his first serious relationship. As far as he’s concerned you’re going to be his only relationship for that matter.

“I...apologize for my recent behaviour. It was never my intention to hurt you. I ended up letting myself get too blinded to see you were in pain and that was my fault. You don’t have to forgive me now but won’t you let me see your face my love?” he asked in all his awkward pose, put him in front of massive event and he’ll perform with flying colours but put him in front of his partner and he stumbles over his worlds like a new born fawn. But it seems to bring a small laugh from you as you peek from under the covers. 

He smiles softly as he sees your ears flush pink. No matter how many times he calls you that you always get so shy, he adores it. But he can feel the guilt rise up in his chest, you’ve always been there to support and reassure him that he was doing everything right. That things were going to be okay when he re-took his father’s business and you would be with him every step of the way. So in the best and awkward way that Diluc can manage, he tells you this. By the time he’s done he can feel his own face start to pink but it’s made you feel better so it was worth it. 

“Feeling better?” he smiles softly as you nod up at him as he lays down beside you, opening his arms in comfort, “Good, come here.” 

You shuffle closer to him as he holds you. It’s been awhile since he’s held you like this and even without realizing it, he’s missed this. Just you and him together, basking in each other’s presence. No work that needed to be attended to. No Fatui trying to cause him any more trouble. It was a safe place and one he didn’t want to let go.  

“What if we got married?”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Then a thud. 

You end up scrambling and falling off your bed face first. It’s a bit silent as you give off a pain groaned and climb back up and he can see your face has exploded red. He can almost see steam coming off as you try and nurse your nose. He blinks a bit at you taken aback as you stutter and scream into your hands as your brain seems to process what he just asked. You lift your face from your hands to look at him, somehow go even redder, and scream louder into your hands. He’s not sure if this is something he should be offended or concerned about but the weight he had been feeling earlier starts to fade away as a new and familiar feeling bubbles up. For the first time in half a month, Diluc let’s out a laugh as he tries to console you as you manage out a yes.

---

Gripping my writing hand why is no one stopping me? Diluc you’re literally acting like Childe rn. [if anyone is confused ahem Childe: Fiancé HCs (should be in my masterlist)]

Also, I continue to look away from the lore. Kaeya and Diluc are not on the best of terms but if they can have petty rich lady wine talk then Kaeya can walk in and call Diluc an idiot.

I was serious when I said that I researched hawk behaviours. I have learned the internet is horrible in telling me how hawks behave. But I did find this and I found this hilarious:

In the case of the red-tailed hawk, for example, the pair soar, screaming at each other; then the male dives at the female, who may roll in the air to present her claws to him in mock combat.

[free-pool-trash]

happiness - peter maximoff

yay a new peter fic <3 i was feeling a little unmotivated for a few days (since our boy wasn’t in episode 8 at all :/) but im back 😎 although im back in school so i might be on and off for a while 😩✋🏻

!!!it’s not a songfic those lyrics at the start are just my inspo!!!

word count: 5k <3 😳

warnings: maybe swearing but i dont think so i cant remember, peter being sad, angst, but mostly fluff, WandaVision spoilers maybe??? I pretty much made up this plot so idk, endgame spoilers, reader was an avenger, kissing but it’s not graphic😽 probably some mistakes yk how it is

feedback is appreciated <3

tagging: @enchantedcruelsummer (should i make a peter maximoff taglist? let me know and I’ll do it)

masterlist

haunted by the look in my eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime

leave it all behind

& there is happiness

Loneliness had always been something that plagued him. That and a plethora of other negative emotions.

There wasn’t a day that went by where Peter Maximoff wasn’t made to feel like a loser. Admittedly, he’d never held himself to a high standard, he grew up thinking that he’d never fit in anywhere and eventually that thought mutated into a lifestyle as he began isolating himself from the world around him, either far too good or heartbreakingly not enough to be a part of that crowd.

He liked spending time with himself. Nobody else knew him the way he knew him, and still, he found nothing but an overwhelming hollow space where his deepest most important hopes, aspirations, dreams and self discoveries should have resided.

Peter had always put this feeling of exile down to the fact that he was a mutant, it was the most likely explanation, right?

It was only when he’d decided to join the X-Men that he finally came to the conclusion that maybe the rest of the world wasn’t the problem, nor was his mutation the problem, but that he himself was the problem. For even in a school full of people exactly like him he was still the same loser that he was in his mother’s basement.

And he was under no illusions that that was exactly what his teammates saw in him; nothing. No potential. Just a space holder to bring the numbers up.

Super speed was incredible. That’s how Peter acknowledged jobs well done, he praised his speed but never himself. He just saved Charles and Erik from a room full of armed guards? No that wasn’t him, that was simply his speed. He saved an entire mansion full of people from a potentially fatal explosion? Nothing special, Kurt probably could’ve done the same.

Forget all of the good deeds and saved lives because the bottom line of it all, to him at least, was that all he was good for was cheeky one liners and hopeless kleptomania.

His life took a turn for the worse when he found himself being mind controlled in an alternate universe. And even then, he was playing the part of someone that wasn’t him, the thought humbled him, reconnected him to his roots and reintroduced him to his life long philosophy that he’d never be anything more than a social pariah. Not even an alternate reality could accept him for who he was. There wasn’t a warm welcome and despite not knowing what was going on, the definition of “imposter” or the weirder, “recast”, still shot to kill.

He settled on the notion that he was an inter dimensional waste of space. At least in WestView he could be blissfully ignorant, let the real him be drowned mercilessly in favour of being an integral part of someone’s life- to feel important, even if it wasn’t real.

When WestView fell apart he was completely lost. In every sense of the word. In a new world with no way home and as it turned out, nobody was looking for him. Although he didn’t expect anyone to care, it still stung that nobody did. He always hoped that one day Erik would step up as a father figure for him, this; getting kidnapped and smuggled into a different dimension, seemed like the perfect moment for that epic father son moment, but it wouldn’t surprise Peter if his father has yet to notice his disappearance.

But then, seemingly out of nowhere, he came into contact with a beacon of hope. A guiding star that might possibly lead him to an existence consisting of something other than misery and self loathing.

It offered him a choice; return to being the self proclaimed loser he was known as or start fresh as someone new and mysterious, with first impressions yet to be made and conclusions about him yet to be drawn. Peter had known himself to be rash in the past, when it came to making decisions he had the tendency to act impulsively, never putting too much thought into how his decisions would affect his life in the long term. The choice before him now is no different, he knew exactly what he wanted going forward, however selfish the choice may have been, the second he realised it was an option his heart was set on it.

That previously mentioned beacon of hope arrived to him in the form of a girl, in the form of you. An ex-avenger and close friend of Wanda’s, you were hired by S.W.O.R.D to help them clean up the more ‘sensitive’ fallout that the fall of WestView brought about. Obviously, they were sticking you- the only other avenger with magik- on babysitting and rehabilitation rather than letting you go after your best friend who had gone completely off the rails. Having said that though, you didn’t want anyone else handling him.

You hadn’t watched WandaVision, nor were you even aware that any of it was going on until it had reached a boiling point and you got a call from Monica Rambeau, she’d begged you to come and wait on the edge of town while she went in and act as her eyes on the outside along with Jimmy Woo.

That’s where you stayed until the hex broke down.

As soon as the barrier came down the base you manned was overrun by an armada of terribly confused and distressed citizens, Monica and Wanda were not among them but in their places stumbled in Darcy and the man playing the role of Pietro.

Jimmy appointed himself to Darcy, who in all honesty seemed relatively unscathed by the situation while you made a beeline for the dirty blonde charading as your former, dead teammate.

Peter was, to put it simply, completely enthralled by you as soon as you’d strolled over to him and in the moment he’d put his almost magnetic attraction to you down to the fact that you were the first friendly face he’d seen upon breaking free of Agatha’s possession.

But one thing in particular struck him; you’d asked him his name. You hadn’t immediately assumed him to be some knock off Pietro, as everyone else had. You acknowledged that he had his own personal identity and despite how often he caught himself hating the person he was, he found that when it was torn away from him that he wanted it back. The simple question you posed gave him the opportunity to regain his identity.

“Peter. My name is Peter.” He answered you, almost unsure of himself and you found your interest in the man piqued even further.

He remembered with perfect clarity the way you’d offered him a grin, tilted your hand, extended your hand and said, “Well it’s nice to meet you, Peter. Come on, I’ll be your babysitter for the next while.” There was something about the way you’d laughed after saying the words and the slight, yet unmistakable, glint of mischief in your eyes that had him captivated from the get go.

With you came a whirlwind of new emotions. After only a few weeks of knowing you, Peter noticed he wasn’t as lonely as he had been back home. He didn’t hate himself half as much either, he wasn’t entirely free of self deprovative tendencies and maybe he never would be, but undoubtedly, he likes himself more in this world than he ever had in his last. He thanked you and your determination to make him “a functioning member of society” for that.

It didn’t feel belittling, the way you helped him. You hadn’t dragged him to your favourite mall every weekend just to taunt him about how he couldn’t stop himself from stealing something. Even the very first time, when he’d sped away from you and returned within a second adoring a pair of freshly stolen sunglasses. Your only reaction had been to laugh and casually place your hands on both sides of his face.

“At least remember to take the tag off next time, speedy.” You’d muttered, subtly pulling the tacky stickers off the arms of his shades. No, you weren’t dragging him sight seeing or forcing him to help you go clothes shopping because you thought he was a loser who needed reforming you were doing it because you were a true friend who wanted him to succeed.

The pair of you seemed like two peas in a pod. Which to be fair, you were. Peter Maximoff intrigued you in every sense of the word. He was new, quite literally other worldly, he was kind, he was funny, he was perfectly mischievous and completely wonderful.

What caught your eye the most was the way he held himself, as if he wasn’t entirely comfortable in his own skin. It became apparent to you that he lacked confidence with the phrases he usually tacked onto the ends of his sentences. When you’d invite him to hang out in the beginning his response would always be something along the lines of, “Sure. If you want me to.” But the excitable puppy dog eyes told you that he was dying for someone to want him to tag along some place.

There was a certain understanding between you. You were both more than accustomed with the harrowing feeling of being alone and even though you’d never exactly voiced those thoughts with each other, you couldn’t deny that his was a spirit kindred to your own and he felt it too.

Since the Avengers has disbanded, one of your best friends, Natasha, was dead and your other best friend, Wanda, was gone completely off the rails and the people chasing her wouldn’t let you anywhere near her or even attempt to help pull her out of her darkness. You were being kept as a wildcard in case they needed her taken down. Peter was no stranger to the feeling of being cast aside and so he quickly responded to your frustrations, and in doing so, forced himself out of his comfort zone to be there for you. To his complete shock though, you’d been so appreciative of his efforts.

You never failed to thank him for the little things he did for you, always complimenting his mutation when he’d use it and giving him the recognition he never received at home. The friendship he formed with you was so… two sided, again, something he wasn’t accustomed to before. It didn’t involve him giving everything he had to offer and receiving nothing in return, you matched his energy meticulously and never left him hanging.

In a series of firsts, he didn’t wonder whether or not you genuinely liked him, never feeling the need or want to question it as you’d left him with no reason to doubt.

As he walked around the mall with you now, his mind brought his attention back to the question you’d asked him rather casually a few nights ago. You were both lounging on your couch, watching some ridiculous reality show (a favourite of yours and Peter’s) when you’d turned your head to look at him, a thoughtful look on your face. “Do you think when S.W.O.R.D figures the technology out to crack into other realities, you’ll go back to yours?”

The question had taken him aback for a second, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about going home, not when he was with you at least and considering he’d become your roommate about three weeks after he got out of WestView, the thought of returning to his old life had barely crossed his mind.

Being an ex-Avenger you were fairly well off, you lived alone in a two bedroom apartment in New York that you’d bought to be closer to Stark tower. Peter had nowhere to go and aside from having a spare room to offer you’d also been sort of lost in the current of the busy city with everyone you once loved in the area either dead, on the run or busy elsewhere.

While the question hadn’t crossed Peter’s mind, it had crossed yours on several occasions. He’d been staying with you for six months and the moment you realised that he was becoming one of the most important people in your life, the thought of him leaving you too weighed on your mind but at the end of the day you wanted him to feel happy. He deserved to feel happy and if going back to his reality brought him that happiness then you’d support him.

“Dunno,” he’d replied, turning to face you, chucking a handful of popcorn at you when you looked incredulous at his response, “To be honest I haven’t really thought about it, m’way too busy babysitting you anyway.” He joked, effortlessly dodging the few pieces of popcorn you attempted to throw at him.

For the last few nights, the question haunted him, but it wasn’t just the question that was bothering him. You were at the forefront of his mind as he replayed the past six months of his life which also happened to be the best six months of his life. WestView put him through hell but coming out the other side of it and meeting you felt like heaven.

He weighed up the pros and cons of returning to his native timeline. The cons: he’d have to leave you behind, he’d go back to being the loser who nobody took seriously, his talents would be downplayed and disregarded and he’d inevitably end up revisiting his lifestyle of solitude. Then there was the pros: he’d get to reunite with his pac man machine. He couldn’t manage to think up anything else.

If he stayed he’d have everything he ever wanted and needed. You’d be there and he knew you always would be, besides he couldn’t leave you knowing that you needed him. If he left who would wake you up when you had night terrors about the catastrophe that your reality was still recovering from? There would be nobody there to comfort you when you woke up from the nightmares, reliving the deaths of Natasha, Tony or Vision and the experience of being snapped out of existence? If he wasn’t there to make you laugh when you were about to cry then who would be? In his heart of hearts he knew you had a huge support system at your disposal, he’d met most of them. Even though he was well aware that Sam visited you as often as he could, that Bucky wrote you letters on a monthly basis and sometimes tagged along with Sam on his visits, that Stephen Strange appeared in your apartment whenever the urge struck him, that the literal god of thunder invited you out for beer whenever he was visiting Earth, that the little spider-kid, also named Peter, swung by your apartment at least once a week to tell you all about school and his good deeds. Despite knowing all of this and knowing all of these people loved you dearly, Peter wanted to be your main source of support, he didn’t want to be someone who came and went, who’d love you then leave you. He wanted to be with you through anything and everything and the feeling that you’d love him for a lifetime had him satisfied with the decision he was about to make.

If leaving his old life meant he could stay here, with you, and experience happiness for more than a fleeting moment then he’d simply; leave it all behind.

“I’ve been thinking about what you asked me the other night.” He spoke through a mouthful of curly fries. You were sitting in the food court of the mall when he decided to let you in on his desire to stay with you indefinitely.

You raised your eyebrow, “You? Putting thought into an answer? Peter, I think I’m starting to become a bad influence on you.” You told him teasingly, taking a long sip of your drink as he rolled his eyes humorously.

“You’re a terrible influence which is exactly why I’ve decided to stay here and put you on the straight and narrow.” The glee you felt at his statement was undeniable, your eyes lit up and your lips curled upwards.

“You’re staying? Really staying?” Your smile was contagious, Peter’s face now painted with a wide grin as he nodded his head.

In a moment of weakness he frantically added, “Y’know only if you want me to though. If you don’t that’s completely cool.” He rushed through the words, feeling more embarrassed when the fond look on your face never faded.

“Of course I want you to stay. You mean a lot to me.” You reassured him, a gentle smile on your lips as you reached across the metal table, intertwining your fingers with his.

Peter squeezed your hand gratefully, holding it in his grasp securely and allowing his smile to return to his face, “I know. You mean a lot to me too.” It was somewhat of an understatement, he was starting to understand that you didn’t just mean a lot, but that you meant everything.

His resolution lifted a huge weight off your shoulders that you wouldn’t be losing yet another best friend. You were glad he’d be with you when everything blew over with Wanda, the two of them definitely had the potential to develop a beautiful sibling relationship and they both deserved that. Of course, Peter would never replace Pietro and having known them both it was obvious just how different the two men were, the only thing they had in common being their powers and last name. Still, he and Wanda would still be able to work on it. He didn’t hate her after WestView and you knew Wanda well enough to know that she was kind hearted and she’d be more than willing to give him a chance. When she eventually comes back to her senses, that it.

As the months went on, life with you and Peter seemed to only get better. You never stopped laughing, your nightmares died down and Peter had taken on a whole new lease of life. Yourself and Peter were the perfect example of meeting the right person at the right time, you balanced each other out and accentuated the other’s good qualities.

Peter could now say with complete confidence that he was happy and what’s more is that he was finally sure that he was making someone happy.

Up until nearly eleven months of living together your relationship had been purely platonic, save for the constant flirting but flirtation pretty much ran in yours and Peter’s blood. Peter wasn’t going to lie to himself, he’d fallen for you the second you’d peeled the security tags off his stolen sunglasses.

You, on the other hand, had been fighting with yourself because yes, you love Peter but you couldn’t have told him when there was the possibility he’d eventually leave and now so much time has passed and you’ve got such a good thing going you didn’t have it in you to ruin it.

However, all of that changed when your original Maximoff best friend came knocking on your door.

Wanda was on the run. She’d caused an amazing amount of chaos but Stephen Strange and S.W.O.R.D were hot on her trail and now she needed a place to lay low with the twins. She figured there was no place more reliable to go than to the always open arms of her best friend, who conveniently had a divinity for earth magik and could muster up a protective barrier without raising suspicions. And that’s exactly where she found herself; outside your door.

You’d been chasing Peter around the apartment when you heard the knock on the door. Peter was on the opposite end of the kitchen to you, using the bar as a shield from you. “You better get that.”

“Oh you’d like that wouldn’t you?” You glared as you spoke, it was his own fault really. What sort of idiot jumpscares a witch while she’s mid-meditation? He’d frightened you so badly you accidentally blasted a ball of your signature green energy and ruined your favourite couch throw pillow. When you were ready to pounce on the scared speedster the knocks sounded again, more frantic this time.

With one last glare towards Peter you stomped towards the door. Your anger melted away completely when you saw her. Her hood was up and she looked completely exhausted, two small hooded little boys by her side.

“Wanda…” You breathed out, relief flooding your system at the sight of her alive. She didn’t get a chance to speak before your arms were pulling her against you tightly, hugging her as if your life depended on it. Wanda returned in your embrace, allowing herself to relax for the first time in nearly a year, she sniffled against your shoulder, holding back tears as she realised how much she’d truly missed you.

Billy and Tommy watched in confusion as their mother cried into your shoulder. They didn’t know who you were, all their mother had told them was that they were going somewhere safe.

It was the yell of one of the boys that caused you and Wanda to separate, “Uncle P!” With that you felt a familiar rush of air across your leg but instead of Peter appearing one of the kids was gone.

You shared a perplexed look with Wanda, although your confusion was for different reasons.

“Hey hell raisers!” Peter responded, catching the mini speedster who all but threw himself at him barely regaining his balance before the other child had flung himself into the hug.

“Wanda? Those two… are they...?” You started, at a loss for words Wanda cut you off quietly, her tone as disbelieving as yours.

“My children? Yes. Is that…?” You nodded your head numbly, anticipating the end of her question.

“Your fake brother? Yeah.” Quickly, you realised you and a wanted woman catching up with the door wide open wasn’t ideal and you ushered Wanda inside, shutting the door when she walked in.

“Hey.” Peter greeted her simply, as if he hadn’t been used as a meat puppet in her altered reality. It wasn’t in his nature to hold any grudges.

“Hi?” Wanda replied, her voice still twinged with confusion.

“Peter, will you keep an eye on the kids for a bit? Wanda and I have some catching up to do.” You asked him with a nervous laugh, just thankful that Wanda was too tired to argue with your suggestion.

Peter ruffled the boys’ hair and gave you a grin, “Only if you stop trying to kill me.”

You rolled your eyes as you began to lead Wanda into your bedroom, “You’re on probation, jerk.” You called over your shoulder.

Once you were securely in your bedroom, the door locked and sitting comfortably you fixed Wanda with an amused look, “I’d ask you what’s new but I’m not sure I even wanna know.”

Wanda gave you a sad smile while she shook her head, “No, you probably don’t. I will tell you tomorrow, I don’t want to get into it tonight. I’m so tired.” She admitted, her voice overcome with sadness.

“I’ll pump up the air mattress and you and the boys can sleep in here for however long you need. I’d offer you the spare room but that’s where Peter’s been staying and I don’t think empty food containers are the kind of decor you’d be into.” Wanda nodded, squeezing your hand gratefully.

“So his name is Peter?” She asked, curious about the man Agatha had used to trick her in WestView.

You nodded in confirmation, “Yeah. Peter Maximoff, actually.”

Wanda’s brows came to a furrow at that, “Maximoff? So he’s a relation?”

“Yes and no. Peter is from a different reality but he’s still a Maximoff and he’s got super speed. So, and this is just my theory, while you’re not directly related he could still be your brother- if you wanted him to.” You explained, as gently as you could, not trying to push her too far but to nudge the idea in her direction.

Wanda, to your surprise, didn't seem to hate the suggestion, “What is he like?”

A genuine smile made it onto your face then, as you shot into your description of your roommate, “He’s caring, funny, a little bit of a kleptomaniac but he’s working on it. He’s understanding and moronically selfless, moronic in the sense that he doesn’t even realise he’s being selfless. Huge pain in the ass too.” Wanda had a soft smile on her face by the time you’d finished.

“You like him.” Was all she said and you let out a laugh in disbelief, standing up and opening the door.

“Go grab a shower. I’ll have Peter blow up the air mattress while I go introduce myself to my god sons.”

“I thought you’d at least wait until I actually asked you.” Wanda laughed as you walked out of the room.

Things moved fairly quickly after that. As promised you introduced yourself to Billy and Tommy as their god mother, which they seemed more than thrilled about and you assumed that excitement had to do with whatever description of you Peter had given them. Wanda and the twins were all cleaned and fed and had all but collapsed into bed, foregoing the air mattress and huddling together in your double bed instead.

“Where are you sleeping, mother Teresa?” Peter teased as he noticed your eyes drooping where you stood.

“On the couch probably. Or the air mattress.” You mumbled, cutting yourself off with a yawn.

Peter, unimpressed with your options, scoffed, “No way. Come on, you can bunk with me.”

Much like Wanda, you were too tired to argue and you let Peter pull you to his, surprisingly clean, room by the hand.

You both crawled into the bed, lying close together despite the amount of empty space on the mattress.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Your soft voice broke through the silence and Peter turned his head to look at you.

“About Wanda?” You nodded your head, watching him intently as he rolled onto his side, facing you more comfortably.

Peter shrugged lightly, “I’m feeling ok. Just glad the twins still see me as their cool uncle.” You let out a small laugh at his response.

“Wanda was asking about you. Seemed interested in getting to know the real you.” You informed him, your heartwarming as you watched a hopeful look fall across his face.

A lull settled over the room once again and Peter caught himself staring at you. His eyes drifted over every visible part of you, reminding him of most of the points on his pros list for staying in your universe; your eyes, your lashes, your nose, your lips, you.

“What’re you thinking about?” The sound of your tired voice pulled him out of his thoughts and ultimately pushed him to bite the bullet and tell you how he’s feeling. With you curled up beside him, in his bed, fighting sleep just to stay in his company for as long as you could; he knew there would be no better time.

“Just about how happy I am to be here with you.” He answered you honestly, the butterflies in both of your stomachs fluttering in sync at his words.

You trailed a hand under the duvet and onto the bedsheets between your bodies, feeling around until you found his hand and gently intertwined your fingers. “I’m happy you decided to stay.”

“What you’ve all gone through in this timeline sucks- don’t get me wrong-“ Peter started sincerely, scooting closer to you and dropping his head back down on the edge of your pillow, leaving the pair of you practically nose to nose as he went on.

“And I hate that Wanda had to go through so much… but I’m really glad that it led me to you.” Peter swore in that moment, right after the confession left his mouth, that he could die right now and be completely content knowing that you now knew how he felt.

His heart stopped, and he thought that maybe he was about to die, when you gave him the softest, sweetest smile he’d ever been on the receiving end of and whispered, “I feel the same.”

Time moved in slow motion as he felt you moving your intertwined hands towards your lips, your lips pressed gently against the back of Peter’s hand before you brought them to rest against your chest.

It was a fact to say that Peter Maximoff had never felt intimacy quite like this before. But, experiencing it now, with you, led him to wonder how he’d ever survived without it. He wasn’t sure whether it was natural to crave more, especially when the affection you were showing him was so gentle, but he didn’t care as he let the impulsive side of him take over.

Not sparing another word, Peter closed the small distance between your lips and his. His free hand cupped your jaw while yours wasted no time in getting tangled in his silver hair.

His lips moved softly and surprisingly slowly over yours and he savoured the feeling of your hand holding his while your other got lost in his hair, your body pressed up against him, the way your jaw moved against his palm as you reciprocated the movement of his lips and the taste of your lips, promising himself he’d never let the memory slip from his mind for as long as he lived.

With complete clarity, Peter could say he had felt true, genuine happiness and he had no doubt in his mind that there was absolutely nothing Charles, Hank, Scott or anyone else from his original timeline could say to make him leave this happiness behind. Because in the process of forgetting his old life, he couldn’t deny that he has undoubtedly found himself in the position of a man who had so much more to live for.

[alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer]

romeo must die

this one-shot is based on the song Romeo Must Die by Gabrielle Aplin, I highly recommend listening to it! shout out to @eugeniaslongsword for introducing me to it :) i even borrowed some lyrics from it haha. it is also inspired by the entire playlist I made, "being treated badly by someone doesn't make you love them more"

content warnings: past toxic/unhealthy relationship, the uncomfy 6-year age gap between Alastair and Charles

Masterlist | Read on AO3

"Alastair, may I speak to you privately for a moment?"

Alastair looked up from what he was working on. He was in the library of the Institute, along with Cordelia, Thomas, James, Matthew, and Christopher. They were searching for any clue as to how Lucie had done what she’d done or what Tatiana and Belial were planning. Alastair wasn't entirely sure how he got roped into the ordeal, but it seemed as though Thomas suggested him as an extra set of eyes, and Cordelia latched onto the idea.

"No," he said curtly, returning to his reading.

"Excuse me?"

"I said no. I'm quite busy at the moment." Alastair spoke under his breath, not wanting to draw the others' attention. How many times had Charles barked the same words at him, swatting him away, hacking away at paperwork or planning his next step in his career? The words sat bittersweet in his chest.

"Surely you could spare a few moments."

"I certainly could. But I do not wish to." Charles had a way of getting into his head and twisting his words and his feelings. It was not an experience he wished to revisit. It was better here, with an audience. It had also been easier in the infirmary, knowing that he held all of the power. His father had made him feel the same way, he thought bitterly. He understood now that what he'd done at school was not only to protect himself from the bullies. He wanted to reclaim the power stolen from him by his father; he wanted for once in his life to hold power himself. He hadn't yet come to the realization that holding that kind of power did nothing but harm. It was of no use, anyways, because it didn't matter how much he perfected his tongue and his wit on the other students at the Academy, he was never able to use it when it counted. Not with Elias, and not with Charles.

"It's fine if you need to take a few minutes, Alastair,” Cordelia said gently. All of the eyes in the room had come to rest on the two of them. Now he wished he’d spoken louder.

“It’s alright, Charles was just leaving.”

He had hoped that Charles would give up and leave knowing that everyone was watching him, but he was determined. He grabbed Alastair’s arm. “It’ll just be-”

Alastair stood, but pulled his arm away. “Don’t touch me.”

In a flicker, Alastair saw it: the anxiety began to set in. Charles began to realize that he would not be able to play his usual tricks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I believe I was quite clear when I told you I don’t wish to speak with you. You’re the one who can’t let this go.”

“Must you act so childish?”

He rolled his eyes. “Must you always call me childish for thinking for myself instead of catering to your every whim?”

“I don’t understand. You said we were fine.”

Alastair sighed. Perhaps for a moment, he thought that was true. For just a second, he thought there was a world where he and Charles could be friends. But Alastair had decided that he would no longer call people who hurt him his friends. “Yes, well, I lied. I wanted to let you down gently, but it’s clear to me now that it must be spelled out for you. How shall I put this? You and I are past our dancing days, Charles.”

“But-” He stammered, searching for words. “What happened with Grace Blackthorn wasn’t my fault.”

“Maybe not. But what of Miss Bridgestock? Am I to pretend that what happened with Miss Blackthorn was not the same as what happened two years earlier?”

“You told me many times that you took no issue with that, that you understood.”

“I understood what you told me, which we both know was never the full truth. I was a sixteen year old desperate for your affections, and the fact that you truly believe I never had any issue with your arrangement is proof that you never genuinely cared about me or listened to my thoughts. I told you in the infirmary that this wasn’t your fault because I thought it’d ease the pain, but I lied. And I don’t have time to sit here and watch you cry over it.”

Alastair wished that watching Charles become flustered would have been more enjoyable. Instead, all he wanted was for this to end. “You- you’re different than when we met. You’ve changed. You’re cruel and callous, I don’t understand how I could not see how heartless you were until now. You are everything that everyone claims you to be. How am I to even know what the truth is when it comes from your lips?”

There was a time when those words would have cut deeply into him, eating at his every insecurity, but Charles mistakenly assumed that Alastair was the same person he was last July, with the same insecurities. “When we met, I was fourteen years old. I’ve grown up, and it is time for you to do the same. It’s been six months, Charles. You need to stop writing me. If that makes me heartless, I don’t care. And if you wish to know the truth, the truth is that the moment you leave here, if I never see your face again, it still will not be long enough.”

Charles stared at him for a long while, unable to find a proper retort. In the end, it was Matthew who stepped in. “Charles, I believe it’s time for you to go.”

He obliged, finally turning to leave the library. As he began to walk away, however, Alastair knew that he was not finished. His heart beat a little bit faster at the thought of such a confession, and faster again when he realized who would hear it, but there was no piece of parting with Charles that he wished to regret.

“Wait,” he said. Charles froze and turned to look at him. “I know it’s unlikely that you have it in the cold depths of your soul to care, but let the record show that I would have given you everything. I would have given you my life, all of the love and trust that I had to give, and then I would have given more. And you gave me nothing. So the next time you’re pondering my heartlessness, you ought to wonder what that means for you.”

Finally satisfied, Alastair did not wait for Charles to turn and leave again to return to his seat and pick his reading back up. He waited for a moment, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of everyone’s eyes on him. He stood once more, opening his mouth to speak, but the words were caught in his throat. Instead, he walked out of the library in silence.

Finding the nearest balcony, he attempted to steady his breath.

“Are you alright?” He heard from behind him. Thomas. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He shook his head. “I just needed some air.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

Alastair sighed. He backed up against the window and slid down to the floor of the balcony. “I know- I know that everyone sort of knew already, but… by the Angel, I feel so pathetic.”

“You’re not pathetic,” Thomas told him, sitting down beside him.

“You were right, of course you were. I was so… taken with him, back in Paris. I couldn’t see him for what he was. I was so naive, so foolish. I just- After everything I’ve seen, everything I’ve been through, how did I not realize-”

Thomas put his hand on Alastair’s knee. “You wanted to see the best in him. After everything you’d seen and been through, you wanted to believe that there were still good and honest people in the world. And there are. I’m sorry that he was not one of them, but that does not make you foolish or pathetic. It makes you… kind.”

“I bet you’d never imagined describing me as such before.”

“It seems you’re full of surprises,” Thomas teased. “But that’s not true. I always saw the kindness in you, even back at school, when you did everything to keep it hidden.”

“As you can see, my ‘kindness’ has never gotten me very far.”

“You were out of practice. Following me on my reckless nighttime patrols, that was kind. More than kind. I don’t think I ever thanked you for that, for risking your life to protect mine.”

“I didn’t do it for gratitude.”

“And yet I owe you mine nonetheless.”

“I can’t go back in there, you know.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can tolerate you and your friends hating me just fine. But if any of your friends give me even an ounce of pity- well, we’ll see just where the limits of my kindness lie, won’t we?”

Thomas stood up, offering Alastair his hand. “Pity comes from those who cannot even begin to understand what you’ve experienced. For what it’s worth, I don’t think my friends will pity you. But if they do, you can ignore them. For Lucie.”

Alastair sighed and allowed Thomas to pull him to his feet. “Fine. Let’s get back to reading.”

“Speaking of reading, do you have the entirety of Shakespeare’s canon memorized, or only the lines you believe may pop up in conversation?”

“Excuse me?”

“‘For you and I are past our dancing days,’ it’s Romeo and Juliet, isn’t it? It’s the only one of his works that I got through.”

Alastair froze. “You haven’t read Hamlet?”

“I tried.”

“Othello? King Lear? Macbeth? Midsummer Night’s Dream?”

He shook his head.

“That’s impossible. And James is friends with you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Wait until my sister finds out you haven’t read Hamlet,” he warned, starting towards the library with urgency in his step.

“Wait, don’t- I just don’t like Shakespeare! What’s so wrong with that?” Thomas’ attempts at reasoning were futile, however, a welcome distraction from all of their recent sorrows finally taking hold.

Thanks for reading!! This was self indulgent af lol. I'm not to sure whether some people only wanted to be tagged in my social media AU, so if that's the case I'm sorry & please tell me!: @stxr-thxif @chaos-and-starlight @lifewouldbebetteronmars @littlx-songbxrd @dianasarrow @eugeniaslongsword @bookswitchcraftandcats @jamesherondaleofficial @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @livingformyself @anarmorofwords @foxglove-airmid @writeforjordelia @sapphic-in @thecodexsays @fortheloveofthecarstairs @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @shadowrunner2000 @thewarthatsavedmylife @fair-childd @icouldnotask @shadowhunting-hooligans @melanielocke @clarys-heosphoros @kiwichaeng @lightwoodsimp @thecrimsonsorceresss @theenchanteddreamer @adams-left-hand @yozinha-z @ipromiseiwillwrite @skirtsandsweaters @goodoldfashionednerd

[the-shiftshop]

Hey Diary - Part 4

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3 and SIDE STORY 1 of the Hey Diary Series

The day ended unexpectedly fun. Everyone was so confused why Keith and I had been laughing together, eating together and even sitting side by side in class today as if Keith never had bullied me. Some even tried to confront us, asking if Keith held me hostage. Keith had been dragging me all around with him. He even asked me to play ball with Peter and Tom, who seemed more closer than usual. I would make assumptions that my recent changes are still affecting them, but I already had deleted that log, and these two would, time by time, give hints that they’re nothing more than a friend, so I shrugged it off.

On my way home, I couldn’t get the fun out of my system. I finally felt so free to move. It’s like I can finally do whatever I want and be whatever I want to be.

Then I suddenly remembered what Keith had asked me this morning.

“Make me old enough to be a teacher for a day.”

It got me thinking about what he’s planning to do once more. It’s not that I don’t trust Keith. It’s just that I’m wondering what his goal is. It’s probably just because he wants to experience being old, or being a teacher. He looked so exhilarated when I told him all about the Diary App, so I’m pretty sure he just wants to give it a try.

At home, I didn’t waste anymore time to tinker with the app as I am very tired and I already want to fall asleep. I carefully wrote down on the app, thinking of the desired outcome I am aiming for.

Monday

Hey Diary,

Today was fun. It felt like I was friends with Keith, Peter and Tom ever since the first day we met. We all had fun together and it felt like all my problems are fixed. This morning, I talked to Keith about this Diary App. I have trusted Keith on this, and I do hope he wouldn’t take that for granted. He was super amazed with this app and the ability of it to change reality and he specifically gave me one request.

I wish that would come true, I wish Keith would turn into the person he want him to be just for a day, and that he would be aware of any changes that may occur.

With that properly typed out, I pressed save, then in just a few seconds, I lost consciousness on my bed.

---------

As soon as Felix fainted in his room, Keith was lying on his bed in the frat house, tossing and turning as he feel his body contort in uncomfortable ways. It wasn’t painful. It just felt like his body is growing far more foreign in every seconds that pass by. It’s like his body wanting to grow numb, but he can still feel pain if he try to pinch himself. With his fingers still pinching his cheeks, he noticed hair poking out to them. He proceeded to feel his face with both his hands, realizing that he’s growing a full beard. Finally recognizing what’s going on, he stopped moving around, and he instead just lied on his back and let it all happen.

He moved his hands down to his growing torso, feeling each muscles expand in his touch. He’s growing, that’s for sure, and it’s not just his body. His mind started to fog up a little, making him wince for a bit.

“I should be working on my lessons for tomorrow-” He blurted out unconsciously. He stopped himself midway, realizing what he had just said. That was the first time he said that. And not only that he meant he’ll study for a lesson, he knows he meant that he’s the one teaching them tomorrow.

He finally decided to stand up. His eyes widened when he saw that it had suddenly gone dark. Not only that, but his beddings changed. His shock soon changed into amusement when we quickly see the night change into day then back to night simultaneously, starting off slow, then it sped up. Even the weird feelings all over his body start to feel more prominent. Memories of years of teaching poured out into his brain. Names of all the student he should know popped out in his mind. Charles, that up-to-no-good student but gets straight As in his class; Marie, that campus nerd who kept asking him weird questions; Lawrence, that jock who needs to keep up with his quizzes. Keith already knew some of these students, but he started to see them in a different light. These are the students he teach, not his friends, not his classmates, not his football teammates.

Keith fell back on his knees as he started to feel tiredness.

It was exhausting feeling all of these happen in just a few minutes. It hurts his eyes to see the outside change between night and day as if like flashing images. His vision started to blur and in replace to his clear sight, a thick round glasses appear on his face.

He remember finishing college and finally started his first practice teaching. Now he’s a fully pledged professor. Everyone liked him. He can even remember students confessing their feelings for him, but of course, declining these for his job. He can remember going into classrooms, not to sit with the crowd, but to stand in front of them. He knows how to make a hard topic fun and he knows his students enjoy his class as much as how he loves to teach.

Tiredness was replaced with pleasure as he arched his back, placing both hands on his crotch, then giving a loud satisfying moan. Feeling his cock ballooned through his shorts. He slowly humped against his hands as he put more pressure on them.

He remember tons of hook ups from college up to recent. Remembering women bouncing on him, kissing him passionately, touching him with deep romantic and sexual connection. These thoughts of women is making him hard. His colleagues had been asking him why he haven’t been properly dating anyone yet, or even planning to marry anyone since he’s already nearing age of marriage, but he just enjoys having flings with a lot of people more than sticking to one, at least, for now. He knows when he will find that right person, and that person has not come yet.

He realized that both of his hands are already in his underpants, pawing that hard cock with one hand, while the other is teasing his tip. He finally had let both of his hands stroke his large shaft. He pulled his cock out of his shorts, then finally gave into pleasure.

“A-Ah! Yeah! Damn!” He cussed in his new deeper voice. Not only that he noticed his voice, he realized that his cursing got more softer, less of that slurs, but more of that expression used to show immense satisfaction. “Aww.. This feels so...”

He cut himself as he finally real his climax, cumming all of what seemed like a 14 year stock of cum all over the floor. The cum stain on the floor disappeared soon enough and his room straightened up more. Finally the quick changing of time came to a full stop.

It was morning and it’s time to take a shower and go to school.

---------

Wish was completed. Please take a picture and attach to the log to confirm change and to keep the new reality.

I stared at the pop-up message in my phone. Peter and Tom are laughing beside me while they eat their lunch. I haven’t seen Keith since morning. I’m kinda worried if I messed up with something. The suspense is killing me and I don’t like this. Tom waved a hand in front of me.

“Dude. You’re been staring in your phone since the time you got here. You fine?” He raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah. I’m fine. Just wondering where Keith has gone to.” I said.

“Keith? Who’s Keith?” Tom asked, before giving me a shocked face. “You don’t mean Professor Keith, right?” He chuckled, “Didn’t know he’s your type.” He joked.

I gave him a confused look, then realizing what he meant, I quickly tried to reply back. “N-No! It’s not like that-”

“Tom, don’t tease him. Let him like whoever he likes.” Peter laughed.

“I mean, I should’ve been saying the same. But then, who wouldn’t fall head over heels for Professor Keith? He’s damn ripped. Unlike the other professors here who focus on growing their stomach and ego, more than growing their muscles.” Tom continued eating his food.

Keith’s a professor now, huh? I guess it worked.

After lunch, we proceeded to class. More than usual, everyone had been talking about Keith. I was sitting on my chair, still staring in my phone as it display the same message. I haven’t used this phone on anything else yet.

My attention switched to Alex who walked in front of me. I haven’t seen Alex in 2 days. He looks like he wants to ask me something. I looked at him and he opened his mouth. “Hey, Felix, uhm... Can we talk-”

“Okay, class back to your seats.”

A deep voice came booming through the room. Everyone sat back to their chairs, including Alex who looks disappointed.

I looked at the man by the whiteboard. He was wearing a denim dress shirt and a black jeans. His round glasses flare with the florescent light in the room. Everyone in the room is staring at him. Most girls are looking at him with hearts in their eyes.

The man dropped his things on the table, then started roaming his eyes around the room. “Before we start our lesson. Felix, a word.” He called onto me. I looked around to see everyone looking to my direction, most of them in shock. “Come now.” He said, walking out the room.

I hurried out to follow him somewhere. He didn’t bother looking back, and I just rushed to follow him. He finally stopped where there are barely no students around. He sat down by the window and stared at me. I just stared at him back, looking from his head to toe. He scuffed and gave me a short chuckle.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” He grinned.

“I- Uhm. Sorry, prof. I don’t swing-”

“Nah! I’m messing with you, man!” He laughed. “It’s me! Keith! Well, it’s Professor Keith for you now.”

My eyes widened. This man is Keith. It worked. I mean why am I so surprised right now? I’m the one who knows about this Diary App.

“I’m enjoying this knowledge so much! I know about A LOT of stuff I never knew before. So this is how it feels to be a professor.” He flexed, touched his muscles, and basically showed off. He pulled out an apple and tossed it around. “A students gave this to me today. I never received any offer from anyone.”

“You like it?” I asked him.

“I like it? I LOVE IT! Though, I might not stay like this forever, at least I don’t want to.” He replied.

I raised my eyebrows. “Why?” I asked him.

“Well... For now I want to enjoy being this kind of adult.” He answered.

He stopped for a while, running his fingers against his chin. He then took a bite from the apple he was holding, chewing it thoroughly, then swallowing.

“The reason why I’m asking your help is... I want to experience being different people for the whole week.”