#I'm just going to keep going until someone stops me

[redwinelew]

saw you’re taking requests! would love to get a lewis teammates/rivals smau where they’re both in love with each other but idiots in realizing it

repressed, compressed | lewis hamilton [1/2]

social media au. east-asian + female + driver!reader

summary as requested!

face claim chloe bennet

song compress / repress by trent reznor & atticus ross from the challengers (2024) original score

warnings suggestive (when have i not write a fic that is not), a lot of banters, lewis being an asshole a bit, a little misogynistic tone (not from lewis ofc), probably inaccurate timeline

author's note timeline is a mess so fuck it we ball. george is merc reserve driver bcs i love him so we're keeping him around here.

english is not my first language. all pictures taken from instagram, pinterest and twitter. credit to owners.

[part one] [part two]

masterlist | request info | requests are CLOSED!

ynln just made a post!

♬ Demons • Hayley Kiyoko

liked by lewishamilton, oscarpiastri and 1,882,627 others

ynln me when i'm not driving a car in circles and nobody pisses me off

view all 3,246 comments

user MOTHER JUST POSTED

user thank god she's alive

user caption omg not the shade 😭😭

user user and yet the person she's shading has the nerves to like her post — liked by ynln!

user user the fact that he doesn't even follow her 🤭🤭 but let me keep my mouth shut for now

user can't wait for the break to end i miss watching the races

ynln user u and me both except i'm driving

lewishamilton demon is exactly what you are

ynln lewishamilton omg why are u so obsessed with me 😰😰😰😰😰😰

lewishamilton ynln i'm really not

ynln lewishamilton then stop terrorizing my comment section nobody wants u here

ynln lewishamilton also that was a mean girls reference but ofc your old ass wouldn't get it

user ynln OOOOHHHHHHHHH

user ynln MIC DROP

user ynln lewishamilton i like how u guys are fighting on track but roast each other on social media

ynln user lol i would actually fight him rn if given the chance

lewishamilton ynln i'd like to see you try

ynln lewishamilton i'm literally taller than u but ok

mercedesamgf1 ynln lewishamilton okay that's enough.

ynln mercedesamgf1 oh ffs

user mercedesamgf1 i could practically hear toto's voice rn scolding his children

user GOOSE CAMEO LET'S GOOOO

user user goose?

user user her dog's name!! y/n named her dog after goose from top gun bcs she once said that she was obsessed with the film as a child and even had a top gun themed birthday party with tom cruise's face on her cake and everything lol you can find the picture on google . she wanted to become an air force pilot bcs of the film but her family didn't let her so she tried out karting and the rest is history!!

user user oh that's kind of adorable 🥹🥹 i wonder how she felt when lewis said that he was almost in top gun maverick

ynln user absolutely grateful that the greatest legacy sequel of all time wasn't ruined by his presence. the only time i'm happy for our packed schedule

user ynln 😭😭😭😭

lewishamilton ynln you are just bitter that you didn't get tom's autograph when he was at silverstone

ynln lewishamilton yk what fuck you

lewishamilton ynln i bet you'd like that wouldn't you

user lewishamilton WOAH@!_:3;3!#?

user lewishamilton WHAT DID HE SAYYYYYYY

mercedesamgf1 lewishamilton ynln i'm not getting paid enough for this shit

user mercedesamgf1 poor admin 😭😭

lewishamilton just made a post!

liked by ynln, annaxsitar and 1,729,113 others

lewishamilton ready and energized 👊🏾

view all 15,859 comments

user BARK BARK GRRRR

user raw and passionate.

user until the neighbours know his name

user as someone who bickers with lewis a lot, y/n sure does like his posts

user user especially the shirtless ones 😭😭

user user i have his notifs on and yet when i open his posts y/n is always here first 😭😭

user 100plus ahh caption 💀💀

ynln god help whichever f1 staff that is going to be fired for this

lewishamilton ynln you literally posted your whole ass the other day

ynln lewishamilton oh so you were looking?

lewishamilton ynln in your dreams, l/n

ynln lewishamilton i bet u do dream about this ass, hamilton

mercedesamgf1 ynln lewishamilton what did we talk about arguing on social media

user mercedesamgf1 omg admin is here

lewishamilton mercedesamgf1 she started it first

ynln lewishamilton u mean fulfilling your life long dream of seeing my ass? no need to thank me babe

georgerussell63 ynln i'm next to him he's blushing right now

lewishamilton georgerussell63 get out of here this doesn't concern you

ynln georgerussell63 oh? 😏😏😏😏 do tell me more

lewishamilton georgerussell63 please don't

ynln lewishamilton boo hoo too late he just dmed me 😝😝

user lewis saw y/n post and was like yk what i'll do you one better 😭😭

user user no complaints here though 🫦

user i just KNOW that mercedes and f1 publicists are tired of y/n and lewis bullshit 😭😭

user it's the way y/n and lewis practically canNOT stand each other on track but are flirting on instagram

user user y/n flirts with everybody and i don't mean that in a misogynistic tone but as in she's just nice that way

user user i don't think the hate is real, maybe it's just for pr

user user i don't think lewis has the time to do this length of pr anymore 😭😭 it's been happening since y/n joined mercedes which has been YEARS

user user also would be weird on mercedes' side. they are putting the only black and female drivers in f1 history against each other? this does not look good on their part

media day!

race day!

post race!

taglist @seonghwaexile @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @nothaqks @serendipityf1 @jajouska @cowboylikebrie @kpop-obsessed-girly

[writingbuckets]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞: 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐯𝐢𝐢

paige bueckers x podcaster!reader

wc: 3.7k

a/n: and we're backkk! there's only a few parts left to this fic, so i've started to write out the beginnings of new fics, specifically some one shots, so anticipate those. requests are open as i'm searching for some new one shot ideas <3

The late afternoon sunlight poured through the wide windows of Paige’s apartment, bathing the living room in a warm, golden hue that softened everything it touched. The air smelled faintly of something savory—garlic and herbs, maybe—and the sound of soft music playing from a speaker on the counter added a lazy, tranquil ambiance to the space. The place felt like her—equal parts cozy and effortlessly inviting.

You were curled up on her oversized couch, legs tucked beneath you, scrolling idly through your phone, though you weren’t really paying attention to the screen. Most of your focus was on Paige, who moved around the kitchen with an ease that only came from familiarity. She’d kicked off her sneakers hours ago, padding barefoot across the tile floor, opening and closing drawers like she already knew where everything was.

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” you called, tilting your head to get a better look at her.

Paige glanced back over her shoulder, strands of her blonde hair escaping from the now loose bun she’d tied the day before. She was wearing one of her UCONN hoodies, the fabric fitted to her frame, the hem brushing her hips. Beneath it, her pajama pants, relaxed and slouching slightly, added to the casual, cozy vibe she exuded, making it clear that she was at ease in the moment, her usual confident exterior softened by the comfort of her home. The look was casual and unintentional, but she somehow managed to make it distractingly appealing.

“Nope,” she replied, her lips quirking into a smug smirk that made her dimples appear. She lifted a knife and pointed it in your direction playfully before turning back to the cutting board. “I’ve got this. Just relax, superstar.”

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, though you couldn’t stop the grin that spread across your face. It was a teasing moniker she’d given you after you’d shared the news about landing a sponsorship for your podcast, and she’d been insufferable about it ever since. “I don’t know if watching you struggle to chop vegetables counts as relaxing,” you quipped, leaning your head against the back of the couch to watch her work.

Paige gasped in mock offense, clutching a hand dramatically to her chest. “Wow. The disrespect. In my own home, no less!”

You laughed, setting your phone down on the coffee table. “Okay, Chef Bueckers. Go ahead and impress me.”

Paige gave you a mock salute, her grin widening. “Don’t worry. By the end of this meal, you’re gonna feel so bad for doubting my skills that you’ll be begging me to cook for you every night.”

“Big words for someone who just fumbled a clove of garlic two minutes ago,” you teased, crossing your arms as you leaned into the corner of the couch.

She muttered something under her breath, turning back to the counter with a shake of her head. “Don’t worry about what happened with the garlic. That’s in the past now.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls and mixing with the quiet music. The ease between you two was palpable, and it filled the space with a sense of lightness you’d grown increasingly fond of. It was amazing how natural it all felt—how seamlessly you’d slipped into this routine of spending time at her place, teasing her from the couch while she experimented with new recipes.

Occasionally, she glanced over at you, her smirk softening into something more affectionate. You caught her looking once, and she quickly turned back to the cutting board, pretending to be overly focused on dicing an onion.

“You know,” you said, a grin tugging at your lips, “if you keep staring at me, we might not get to eat until midnight.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Paige shot back, though the faint blush creeping up her neck betrayed her.

“Sure,” you replied, stretching out on the couch with an exaggerated yawn. “Take your time, Chef. I’ll just starve quietly over here.”

Paige laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “Keep talking, and I might just burn your food on purpose,” she said, tossing a sliced pepper onto the cutting board with a flourish.

“Wow, threatening your guest? That’s bold.”

“You’re not a guest,” she countered, her voice softening in a way that made your chest tighten. “You’re... you know.”

The way she trailed off, the weight of the unspoken words hanging between you, caught you off guard for a moment. But then she glanced over her shoulder again, her smile small but genuine, and the tension in the air shifted into something that felt more intimate than playful.

“You’re impossible,” you said quietly, though your tone held no real annoyance.

“And yet, here you are,” Paige replied, her smirk returning as she turned back to her work.

The scent of whatever she was cooking began to fill the apartment in earnest, rich and inviting. The golden hour light streaming in through the windows caught the edges of her hair, turning it almost honey-like in color, and for a moment, you forgot about the meal entirely, too caught up in watching her.

Paige, as usual, noticed. “Now you’re staring,” she said without turning around, her voice full of teasing smugness.

“Am not,” you shot back, though the warmth in your cheeks said otherwise.

“Caught in 4K,” she retorted, glancing at you over her shoulder with a grin that made your stomach flip.

You shook your head, laughing softly as you leaned back against the couch, letting the easy rhythm of the moment wash over you. If this was what life with Paige looked like, you couldn’t wait to see where it went next.

The past few months had been everything you didn’t know you needed. What began as slow steps into something new had quickly blossomed into a rhythm that felt effortless, as if this was where you were meant to be all along. The awkward tension of your first date, with its nervous laughter and overthinking, had melted away after that night, replaced by an ease that sometimes made you question if it was too good to be true. And yet, every time Paige looked at you with that lopsided grin or sent a teasing quip your way, you realized this wasn’t a dream—it was your reality.

You and Paige had settled into a flow that worked, balancing your busy schedules with the demands of her games and your growing podcast. It wasn’t always easy, but it was worth it. Early mornings were spent sharing hurried cups of coffee, and late nights often found you curled up on her couch or yours, laughing at something silly on TV or talking about nothing and everything. Somewhere in the middle of all that, you’d discovered how much you loved these quieter moments, the ones that felt suspended in time, like lazy afternoons when the rest of the world seemed to fade away.

Being with Paige had surprised you in ways you hadn’t anticipated. On paper, she was a phenomenon: the Paige Bueckers, basketball prodigy, fan favorite, and media darling. She was a star in every sense of the word, with a presence so magnetic it felt like it could pull the tide. But with you, she was just Paige. Goofy, thoughtful, endlessly witty, and endearingly competitive about everything from who could open a jar faster to who had the better taste in music.

She was the kind of person who would call you at midnight just to tell you she’d heard a song on the radio that reminded her of you. She was also the kind of person who would take ten minutes to pick out the right snack from a convenience store and then tease you for your “unrefined” candy preferences. With her, everything felt easy—like finding the right piece to a puzzle you hadn’t realized was missing.

“You’re quiet,” Paige’s voice broke through your thoughts, casual but laced with curiosity as she worked at the counter.

You blinked, her words pulling you back to the present. She hadn’t turned around, too focused on her task, but somehow, she always knew when your mind wandered. “Just thinking,” you replied, trying to play it cool.

Paige glanced over her shoulder, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Thinking about what? Or should I say… who?”

“Wow, conceited much?” you shot back, trying to ignore the slight flush that crept up your neck.

Her grin widened as she turned fully, holding up a cutting board with half of a neatly sliced pepper. “Just admit it,” she said, her tone smug.

“I wasn’t thinking about you,” you lied, though your cheeks betrayed you.

“Oh, really?” Paige placed the cutting board down and leaned against the counter, crossing her arms. The playful glint in her eyes made it clear she wasn’t letting this go. “So, what was it? World domination? Your podcast’s next big scoop? Which player’s sneakers squeaked the loudest during the last game?”

You laughed despite yourself, shaking your head. “None of the above. I was thinking about…” You trailed off for dramatic effect.

“About?” she pressed, leaning in slightly as if your answer were life or death.

You smirked, deciding to turn the tables. “About how you always insist on using the tiniest cutting board in existence for way too many vegetables. Seriously, do you not own a bigger one?”

Paige gasped, clutching a hand to her chest in mock offense. “This cutting board and I have history! Don’t disrespect it.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I was insulting a family heirloom,” you teased, folding your arms across your chest.

“It practically is,” she shot back with a grin. “We’ve been through a lot together. College dorm meals, team dinner cooking fails… it’s seen things, Y/N.”

You raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “And yet it’s still too small.”

Paige laughed, pushing off the counter and returning to her task, her shoulders shaking with amusement. “One day, I’ll upgrade. But until then, this little guy gets the job done.”

“Barely,” you quipped, earning another laugh from her.

She reached for a pan, humming softly to the tune playing throughout the apartment. Watching her like this—barefoot in her hoodie, completely at home in her own space—made your chest ache in the best way. 

“Careful,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant. “You might actually impress me with your cooking skills.”

She glanced over her shoulder, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Oh, I will. And when I do, I expect a full public apology for all the trash-talking you’ve done about my culinary expertise.”

You snorted. “Culinary expertise? Paige, I’ve seen you eat cereal straight from the box because you didn’t want to wash a bowl.”

“That’s called efficiency,” she shot back, turning her attention back to the stove. “You wouldn’t understand.”

The playful banter filled the space, bouncing off the walls with an energy that contrasted beautifully with the softer, quieter moments you shared. It was hard not to feel light in moments like this, when everything about her felt so natural and unguarded. Paige had a way of making the world feel a little less heavy, a little more vibrant, just by being herself.

“Paige,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the comfortable silence.

She glanced over her shoulder, her expression shifting from playful to attentive in an instant. “Yeah?”

“I was just thinking…” You hesitated, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

Paige turned off the burner and set the spoon down, giving you her full attention. She leaned against the counter, her arms crossing loosely over her chest. “That sounds serious,” she teased gently, though her tone was laced with genuine curiosity.

You smiled, trying to push past the nervous energy bubbling up. “It’s not, really. Just… us. How this feels.”

Her eyes softened, the teasing completely gone now. She pushed away from the counter and walked over to the couch, dropping down beside you. “What about it?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

You fiddled with the hem of your shirt, searching for the right words. “I guess I didn’t expect it to be this easy. Being with you.”

Paige tilted her head, watching you closely. “Easy in a good way, I hope?”

You nodded quickly, laughing softly. “Yeah, in a really good way. I mean, I knew you’d be funny and smart and all that. But I didn’t think…” You trailed off, suddenly shy under her gaze.

“That I’d be this irresistible?” she offered, a smirk tugging at her lips, though her eyes betrayed her vulnerability.

“Obviously,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. Then you sobered, reaching out to take her hand. “I didn’t think I’d feel this comfortable. Like we’ve been doing this forever.”

Paige’s fingers curled around yours, her grip warm and steady. “Same,” she admitted. “I was worried at first, you know? That I’d mess things up or… that maybe it’d be too much.”

Your brows furrowed. “Too much?”

She shrugged, her thumb brushing absently over your knuckles. “With basketball, the attention… my life isn’t exactly low-key. I didn’t want that to make things harder for you. But you’ve just… you’ve handled everything so well.”

You squeezed her hand, your chest tightening at her honesty. “Paige, I knew what I was signing up for. And yeah, maybe it’s not the most ‘normal’ relationship, but it’s ours. And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Her smile was small but radiant, the kind that made your stomach flip. “You’re something else, you know that?”

You leaned in, resting your forehead against hers. “Right back at you.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything, the silence filled only by the soft hum of the kitchen appliances. Then Paige shifted slightly, her free hand brushing against your cheek.

“I’m glad we’re doing this,” she murmured, her voice almost a whisper.

You pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. “Me too.” 

Her eyes softened, and before you could say another word, she leaned in, closing the small distance between you. Her lips brushed yours gently at first, a soft, lingering kiss that seemed to hold everything unspoken between you. The warmth of her lips sent a shiver through you, and as she deepened the kiss, everything around you seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that quiet moment. It was slow, tender, the kind of kiss that told you more than words ever could, words you desperately wanted to say. When you finally pulled away, your breath was shallow, and the world outside felt a little less important.

Paige smiled, her thumb gently tracing your bottom lip. “I meant that,” she whispered, her voice low and full of meaning.

“I know,” you replied softly, your hand instinctively finding her waist, pulling her just a little bit closer.

The look in her eyes was so tender, so full of affection, that you felt like you might melt under its weight. And you couldn't help but think that for all the unexpected twists and turns life had thrown at you, this—being here, with her—was exactly where you were meant to be.

Eventually, she slid a plate in front of you with a dramatic flourish. “Voilà,” she said, her voice dripping with mock sophistication. “A masterpiece, handcrafted by yours truly.”

You raised an eyebrow, eyeing the dish. “Looks edible,” you said, hiding your smile.

She gasped, feigning offense. “Excuse me? That’s not the enthusiasm I was hoping for. Where’s the applause? The standing ovation?”

You picked up your fork, taking a small bite to appease her. To your surprise, the food wasn’t just good—it was amazing. The flavors were rich and perfectly balanced, the kind of dish you’d expect at a nice restaurant, not from Paige’s kitchen.

Your eyes widened, and Paige immediately noticed. “I knew it,” she said triumphantly. “You love it. Go ahead, admit it.”

You tried to keep a straight face, but it was impossible. “Okay, fine. It’s good. Like, really good. How did you pull this off?”

Paige leaned against the counter, her smirk turning smug. “Told you I’m full of surprises, superstar.”

As you laughed, the late afternoon sun began to dip lower, casting the room in softer, golden hues. The conversation flowed effortlessly as you ate, touching on everything from her upcoming games to your plans for the next podcast episode. She listened intently as you spoke, her gaze warm and unwavering, and you found yourself marveling again at how easy it was to just… be with her.

When dinner was done, Paige stood and started clearing the plates, but you stopped her.

“Hey, you cooked. Let me handle this.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Deal. But if you break one of my glasses, you’re banned from entering my kitchen forever.”

“Noted,” you said with a laugh, collecting the dishes.

By the time you’d finished tidying up the kitchen, the faint hum of the TV and the soft glow of the living room lights welcomed you back into the cozy space. Paige was sprawled out on the couch, one leg draped lazily over the armrest, she’d taken down her bun and her golden hair was tousled from running her fingers through it. She held the remote in one hand, scrolling through Netflix with a look of mild concentration.

Hearing your footsteps, she glanced up, her face breaking into a soft smile. “There you are,” she said, patting the empty space beside her. “Come here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Crossing the room, you sank into the cushions beside her, instantly enveloped by her warmth as she draped an arm over your shoulders and pulled you close. Your legs tangled together naturally, the scent of her familiar—clean and comforting.

“Miss me already?” you teased, resting your head against her shoulder.

“Always,” she shot back smoothly, her lips quirking into a grin as she pressed a quick kiss to the top of your head.

“What are we watching?” you asked, glancing at the TV, where the endless carousel of titles continued to scroll.

“Not sure yet,” she admitted, her thumb hovering over the remote. “But I’m vetoing any true crime. I don’t feel like sleeping with the lights on tonight.”

You laughed, snuggling further into her side. “Fair point. Let’s go with something cheesy, then. Rom-com or bust.”

“Rom-com it is,” Paige agreed, scrolling until she found a movie with a predictably charming cover: a couple laughing together in a picturesque park. She clicked play without much thought, settling back into the cushions with a contented sigh.

The movie began, its upbeat opening credits accompanied by a lighthearted soundtrack, but your attention drifted almost immediately. Instead of focusing on the predictable meet-cute unfolding on the screen, you found yourself drawn to the small, absentminded gestures Paige made—the way her fingers gently traced slow, lazy patterns along your arm, the way her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm that matched the quiet calm of the moment.

You tilted your head to look up at her, catching the soft lines of her profile as she watched the screen. Her expression was relaxed, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips every time something particularly cheesy happened.

“What?” she asked, not looking away from the screen but clearly sensing your gaze.

“Nothing,” you replied, though the warmth spreading through your chest begged to differ.

Minutes passed like that, the comfort of her presence and the warmth of the room lulling you into a blissful haze. Then Paige’s voice broke the silence, softer now, almost hesitant.

“Hey,” she murmured after a while, her voice breaking the comfortable silence.

“Hmm?”

She shifted slightly, enough that you could feel her looking down at you. When you tilted your head up, her blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, she didn’t say anything. There was something searching in her gaze, like she was trying to find the right words.

“Can I tell you something?” she asked, her voice quieter now.

You nodded, your heart picking up slightly at the unexpected vulnerability in her tone. “Of course.”

Her fingers stilled against your arm, but her hand didn’t pull away. She took a breath, her chest rising and falling beneath your touch, before speaking. “I didn’t think… I didn’t think I could feel this way about someone.”

The weight of her words settled over you, heavy and full of meaning.

She continued, her gaze unwavering, as if grounding herself in your presence. “It’s like… no matter how crazy everything gets—basketball, the media, everything—you’re this constant. And I’ve never had that before. Not like this.”

Your throat tightened, emotion swelling in your chest. Paige wasn’t someone who opened up easily. She carried so much of the world on her shoulders, and yet here she was, baring a piece of herself that felt achingly real.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy,” she said finally, her voice barely above a whisper.

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against her cheek. “Me neither,” you said softly, your voice thick with emotion.

She leaned into your touch, her eyes closing for a moment like she was savoring the weight of your hand against her skin. When she opened them again, the vulnerability in her expression was replaced by something softer—an undeniable warmth that made your chest ache in the best way.

“I mean it,” she said, her voice steady but still tender. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

The words hit you with a force you hadn’t expected, and for a moment, you couldn’t find your voice. All you could do was shift closer, wrapping your arms around her as you buried your face against her shoulder.

Paige held you tightly, her hand finding its place at the small of your back. Her lips brushed against your temple, lingering there as if to ground herself in the moment.

“I don’t think I could do this without you,” she murmured.

You pulled back slightly, just enough to look at her. “You could,” you said firmly, though your voice trembled with the weight of your own emotions. “But I’m glad you don’t have to.”

A slow, grateful smile spread across her face, and she leaned forward, pressing her forehead against yours. The space between you felt almost sacred, the air charged with unspoken promises.

The movie played on in the background, forgotten as you stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms. The world outside could wait. For now, all that mattered was this moment, and the quiet, unshakable love that filled the space between you.

[futureperfectchanges]

The Pride Pin

"Have you got a little rainbow flag? Or maybe a rainbow handkerchief?" Edward asked the man behind the counter. He was on his way to a gay wedding and had seen a large pride flag in the window of this store which had given him an idea. "Basically something that I could put into my breast pocket for a wedding i'm going to." Before quickly adding: "To show my support to the grooms that is."

"Ah, how nice, although I'm afraid I only have large flags at the moment, but I do have a few pins left over from Pride, would one of those work for you?" replied the shopkeeper as he pointed to a box a little further down the counter.

"Looks perfect" Edward said as he picked up one of the pins.

"Just to check - you did say you wanted it to show you're an ally of the gay community didn't you? It's just that some of the items in this store can be a little, well, unpredictable, so just wanted to be clear about things before you try it on."

"Of course" Edward lied.

In truth Edward hadn't wanted to go to this wedding at all. He worked with one of the guys getting married, John. They had joined a law firm at the same time so had met during their induction and had been good friends for a while - at least until John had come out as gay and started dating guys. Edward was glad that John was happy, but had since mostly avoided hanging out together unless it was a work event. He had gone to one dinner soon after John's engagement to his boyfriend, Miguel, but had spent the whole meal feeling embarrassed. Everyone else at the table had been so obviously gay and they had made no attempt to talk quietly, so he was sure all the surrounding tables had been judging him all evening.

When Edward had received the invite to the wedding he had initially planned to decline it. What had changed his mind was the fact that a lot of John's straight female friends were going to be there, and with most of the other guys at the wedding being gay, it was almost guaranteed that he would hook up with one of the girls. He hoped that the pride pin was going to be the 'icing on the cake' with regards to getting attention from the girls. How could they turn down a guy who was so supportive of his friend? With any luck he would be back at home with a lady before the happy couple had even cut the cake.

"Here, let me put it on for you" the shopkeeper offered.

Edward had intended on keeping the pin out of sight until he had entered the wedding, but he didn't want to offend the shopkeeper so let him reach over and place the pin on his lapel - he'd just take if off as soon as he left the store.

Edward looked at the mirror behind the counter and his first thought was to worry that the pin might make the girls at the wedding think he was gay too. He started to wonder if it was a bad idea, and as if to confirm that he felt the pin prick his chest. Soon after he felt another prick and he wondered if the shopkeeper had failed to cover the back of the pin properly. When he started to feel more and more pricks on his chest, and not just where the pin was, he began to worry that something was wrong.

Edward felt like he was being stabbed with needles all across his chest and he felt like he had no choice but to pull his jacket off. He didn't know what was going on, but he needed to stop whatever was causing the pain.

Edward was confused. He had taken off his jacket and the pricking sensations had stopped, but when he looked down at his chest he didn't understand what he was looking at as it. What he first saw on his chest was a mix of colors that hadn't previously been there. It was as though someone had covered his chest in paint.

"¿Cómo?" Edward said aloud whilst continuing to stare at his chest. He had never had a tattoo so didn't understand what he was looking at. As he reached up to rub off whatever was on his chest it quickly dawned on him that the colors were not going to come off easily.

"What is this? Is this a tattoo? How do I get this off?" Edward asked in increasingly frantic tones, all with a slight Spanish accent. He had been so fixed on the new tattoos that he hadn't noticed that the rest of his body had taken on a subtle tan.

The shopkeeper didn't reply, he knew that if an item from his shop was not used as intended it could cause a little confusion for the customer, so he just waited to see what would happen.

"What is going on? And what's wrong with my voice?" Edward asked as he started to get angry. "I'm a dancer at Infernos nightclub and if you want to see me shake my ass... wait... no I meant to say i'm a dancer, no a dancer..." Edward had wanted to tell the shopkeeper that he was a lawyer at a powerful law firm and would kick his ass if he didn't fix what was going on but he didn't seem able to get the right words out.

Whilst Edward's mind tried to deal with what was going on, he started to wonder what sort of options he had to get rid of the tattoo, or what he could do just to cover it up. It was then that he looked back at the mirror and realised how much else had changed across his body. His heart sank as he knew there was no way he could cover everything up.

Edward sighed as he thought again about what to do with the tattoos, but was then confused. Why was he thinking of covering them up? He loved showing them off. He had spent so much of his life hiding who he was, but now there was no one who was going to stop him from being his true self. He was Eduardo - a proud Latino twink.

Eduardo felt the jacket he was holding and then remembered that he had come in to buy a new shirt. "Hey, do you have any dress shirts?" he smiled as he asked the storekeeper. "My best friend is marrying some fancy lawyer today and I want to look good for the occasion!"

[thetadispatcher]

"It's fine, no harm done." Sure the interaction had been far more unpleasant for him, but it hadn't damaged him in anyway. It had merely left the sensitive sensors in his hand tingling and caused him to be forced to reboot, but the information he'd been forcefully given hadn't corrupted his memory or been corrupted itself.

He'd been able to make sense of and properly view the overwhelming amount of data once he'd come back online, the entire event had only taken a few seconds so Strasky didn't have the time necessary to start thinking he'd broken Dan. So, the android only had to deal with the man apologizing for not warning him sooner, and for the things he'd been forced to witness.

Dan was just glad he now had a system to keep Strasky from getting worked up over seeing the androids Brent was currently building. He only had to get someone to distract the man well Brent preformed the functions test on them as that caused the skin to activate, making it harder for Strasky to look at them and keep his composure. So he had Sixty play the distraction as Brent preformed the test on the newly completed android.

Sixty did as he'd been silently instructed to do, he began fiddling with something breakable which caused Strasky to quickly try to get the item away from him. The RK800 played keep away with the man until Brent shut the android down and set it aside with the first one, then he let Strasky snag the glass decoration from him and set it back on the shelf.

"I estimate this will take an hour to complete the entire order, now that the new computers are here." Brent responded calmly, he was clearly used to dealing with impatient humans given how well he handled the behavior. "If you wish to, you can join the military units in the dining room. I believe they are playing a card game, one where you win by lying. So it should be entertaining for you, even if you cannot join in on one of their more extreme rules." The JB300 felt Agent Bishop would likely enjoy the games the military units played, even if he couldn't use the tool they did to weaken and shut down most of their functions.

Personally, he didn't understand why they liked to play something that was a less extreme version of roulette, but as long as it kept them entertained he wouldn't judge.

Vincent glanced at his black and purple uniform as Peter giggled to himself, he wasn't as accustomed to the human's strange behavior as Dan was. So, the AP700 would find himself frequently trying to understand the odd and cryptic things the human said to him. He only stopped when Dan mentally reminded him that it was best to just brush it off, seeing as Peter likely just found noting Vincent's favorite color funny due to being under the influence of the painkillers.

The yellow and red of Vincent's LED shifted to blue as he looked up at the other android, clearly finding his presence comforting as his stress levels fell significantly. He held up the crochet wolf he'd just finished outfitting with a yellow rain coat, silently waiting for the other's opinion on it as the yellow returned to his blue LED.

"Sometimes I make notes on the more absurd things he says, they range from questionable to outlandish. Usually they're just things he blurts out well upset. Although I don't know if most would make sense as a fortune, or if people would want quotes from the guy who told Elijah Kamski to suck his dick." Dan felt androids would like Peter more due to him telling off the whole of Cyberlife, and the boy had enough humans that didn't like him supporting androids.

"'I'm the video game boy, I'm the one who wins.' Is a personal favorite of mine in terms of things he's yelled at me because I was beating him. He's also tried to convince me clearly broken controllers weren't actually broken, 'the exposed wires help it breathe better' was an interesting one. I could go on, but some of my favorites are just from him forgetting I'm not a human, or just how common it is for him to crack himself up."

Dan chuckled slightly as he glanced at Peter, who'd finally passed out in his arms. He still knew better then to put him to bed as Peter would wake up the moment he couldn't hear the beating of the PL600's thirium pump and his pump regulator, it was a sound he noted calmed Peter and provided him comfort.

"It took me a bit to get used to how much he screams, but that's probably due to my own experiences with it." Daniel piped up, he had grown accustomed to Peter's rage fits and how they were harmless to him. "Now, I find it funny to watch him loose his mind over something like chess. I never knew someone raising their voice at me would be amusing."

Sixty turned to Willow once he was certain he'd no longer be need, excitedly motioning for her to follow him, so he could finally show her the room where they stored whatever Vincent made during his visits.

"Empathy is a wonderful gift." Willow said, eyeing Dan, "Perhaps I should have mentioned to be careful while handling Strasky."

It was hard to ignore the structure gel going off now that she knew what to be on the lookout for. She was glad all that information being dumped on him at once had not caused him to overload like it did with the brain scans.

Deviants were simply built different perhaps.

"In other words, we have commissioned a young genius who must be kept on a leash." Bishop mused.

"You keep yours in a jar." Rook pointed, getting a confused look from the android, "Do you even have to ask?"

"Not at all." He shot Bishop a skeptic look, before heading back to where Vincent was.

Bishop crossed his arms, "So, how much longer do we have to wait? There is work I have to get back to."

"You guys should write down what he says and put it in fortune cookies." Rook suggested, "It's so cryptic everybody would love them."

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — beneath the stars, we became one: chapter 018.

you sat with ayane and milya at your usual spot in the café after school, stirring your drink absently as their voices filled the space. they were catching up on weekend plans and sharing gossip, but you weren’t really listening.

“alright,” milya said suddenly, breaking through your haze. she leaned across the table, her sharp eyes pinning you in place. “what's going on with you?"

you blinked, startled. “what? nothing.”

“liar.” milya crossed her arms, clearly unimpressed. “you've been spacing out all day. you're never this quiet unless something’s eating you.”

ayane tilted her head, her expression softer but just as curious. “did something happen? is it about rin?”

the mention of his name sent a jolt through you. “what makes you think it’s about rin?”

milya snorted. “because it’s always men sabotaging women these days. tell us.”

you hesitated, glancing between your two best friends. the thought of opening up made you uneasy, but you also knew they wouldn’t let it go until you did.

with a deep breath, you finally said, “we kissed."

ghe words hung in the air for a moment before milya let out an exaggerated gasp. “you kissed rin?! and you’re just now telling us?!”

ayane's eyes widened in surprise. “wait, what? when? how?”

you gave them a quick rundown of what had happened, leaving out the finer details but enough to paint the picture. by the time you finished, milya was grinning like she’d just won the lottery.

“and now you’re freaking out,” she said knowingly.

you nodded, fidgeting with your scarf. “it's just… i'm scared. what if I get attached and it doesn’t work out? what if I end up hurt again?”

milya reached out to squeeze your hand. “i get it, y/n. after kyo, it’s hard to trust again. but rin isn’t kyo. he's not the type to play games or hurt you on purpose.”

“she's right,” ayane chimed in, more blunt. “you can’t keep running from your feelings just because of some jerk in the past. rin likes you, y/n. anyone with eyes can see that. if you push him away now, you’re just going to regret it later.”

their words hit you harder than you expected. deep down, you knew they were right. you couldn’t keep letting fear control your actions. if you wanted to move forward, you had to take the risk.

by the time you got home, you’d made up your mind. tomorrow, you’d talk to rin.

the next day at school, you kept an eye out for him, determined to find the right moment. but it quickly became apparent that it wasn’t going to be easy.

you saw him briefly before class, standing near the lockers, but just as you worked up the nerve to approach him, someone called his name. rin turned away, his expression neutral as he engaged in a conversation with isagi. you hesitated, not wanting to interrupt, and by the time you decided to wait, rin was already walking toward the classroom.

the second time you spotted him, it was during lunch. he was seated by the window with a book open in front of him, looking as focused as ever. you took a deep breath, clutching your tray, and made your way toward him. but before you could reach him, bachira plopped down beside him with his usual energy, dragging rin into an animated conversation.

by the end of the day, frustration began to bubble up. you caught sight of rin heading down the hall, his bag slung over his shoulder. this was your last chance. you quickened your pace, calling his name.

“rin!”

he stopped, but before he could turn around, someone else beat you to him. a girl from his class - kana, if you remembered correctly - walked up to him with a bright smile.

“hey, rin!” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. she tilted her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes. “i was wondering if you could help me with something. you're really good at english, right?”

you froze mid-step, your chest tightening as you watched the interaction. rin looked at her, his expression as blank as ever. “what is it?” he asked flatly, his tone polite but detached.

kana laughed lightly, leaning closer. “it's the grammar. i don't understand it no matter what i try. maybe we could go over it together sometime?”

your stomach twisted uncomfortably. she was practically batting her eyelashes at him, and while rin didn’t seem particularly interested, he wasn’t walking away either.

you hesitated, unsure if you should interrupt. buz before you could decide, rin spoke again. “i'm busy,” he said curtly, brushing past her without a second glance.

for a split second, relief washed over you - only to be replaced by a pang of guilt. what was wrong with you? rin had every right to talk to whoever he wanted.

you quickened your pace and called out again.

“rin!”

this time, he stopped but didn’t turn around immediately. when he did, his expression was unreadable, his teal eyes meeting yours for a fleeting second before he shifted his gaze.

“hey,” you started, walking closer. “can we—”

“not now,” he said shortly, cutting you off. he didn’t wait for your response, turning on his heel and walking away.

you froze, your heart sinking. the coldness in his tone stung more than you wanted to admit. was this bad timing or is he actually annoyed?

the rest of the day passed in a blur, the weight of rin's distance pressing heavily on your chest. you replayed his words, his actions - or maybe lack of actions - in your mind, overanalyzing every little detail.

"i fucked up," you mumbled, realizing.

chapter 017 > here > chapter 019

back to beneath the stars, we became one !

my taglist is open <3

a/n: IM SO SORRY THAT I HAVE TO REUPLOAD i forgot the last ch. ...

taglist: @byakgans @bluberrymochi17 @levihanmyotp @x3nafix @etojlee @chuuyalvover @reocidal @syarc0re @azinniyaa @vashyuu @rwbie @idexmids @giaalorine @modxbea @nensi @anqelkoz @sapph1r3x @yuukigyatgyat @morgyyyyyyy @azharyy @chaerinmin @thenightsflower @narcjsistx @totheseok @meekydeeks @aerisevx @imas1mpp

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[lost-in-fandoms]

hi esi! for writing game:

maxiel + 53 bc I remember your amazing wingfics!

From here: Wings/supernatural body features. Hello!! <3 and thank you <3 This is set in the same wingfic universe, right after the last thing I wrote I guess and the same cw apply: unsafe and painful wing care practices.

"You should sit."

Daniel points at the pillow he had set on the floor as soon as Max steps into his room, a belligerent frown still on his face, shoulders curling in, protective.

Daniel can't see his wings, which means that Max has bound them again, after keeping them away for the whole day. It makes him want to cry, cluck at him and fuss like he's just a fledgling, but he doesn't want to spook Max. Or at least, spook him more than he already as.

"I clean them," Max snaps mutinously, going to cross his arms, but immediately aborting the movement with a barely suppressed wince.

He's hurting and he still bound his wings again. Daniel is going to kill someone. A very specific someone.

"I know you do, Max," he says, swallowing his anger like a too big gulp of protein shake, trying to keep his voice soft and level. He knows the fear that hides behind Max's facade.

"Sometimes though, it's not enough to just wash them. You have to actually preen your wings, to keep them healthy, and it's easier to let someone else do it for you."

"I'm healthy!" Max argues, as if he's not standing there, literally unable to do full movements because of how he's treating his wings on the daily. If he didn't think it would get him punched, Daniel would laugh.

"Yeah, but you can be healthier. It would probably make it easier in the car, too, if you could raise both your arms at the same time."

He means it as a joke, but Max seems to take it as a challenge, because he immediately raises his arms above his head, face stony, only betraying his pain with the way he bites his lower lip until it goes white.

Daniel rushes forward, cursing himself internally, and forcing him to lower them again.

"Jesus, what the fuck is wrong with you?"

He knows it's the wrong thing to say as soon as it's out of his mouth. Max flinches back, lowering his eyes, shoulders curling even more inwards.

"Fuck you," he spits, voice trembling. Daniel is an idiot.

"No, Max, fuck..." he sighs, dragging a hand over his face and breathing deeply. "I'm sorry."

Max freezes, eyes darting up to look at Daniel's face before snapping down again, tension and confusion hanging around him like a cloud.

"Let's try again, alright? Just listen to me," Daniel says, dredging up all his patience.

Max nods, a tiny movement, fingers tangled up in the hem of his hoodie in what looks like an attempt to keep them from shaking.

"I am not judging you, but I think you would benefit from me preening your wings. If you hate it, or if you want to stop at any time, you'll be free to leave and never do it again. Does that sound okay?"

Max takes his time to consider it, long moments in which Daniel feels his heart beating too fast in his chest, but then nods again.

And then, without any further discussion, he takes off his hoodie and drops down on the pillow.

It makes Daniel's breath stutter, to have such faith put on his hands, almost as much as it makes his heart ache to see how tightly Max's poor wings are bound.

He knows this is his only chance. If he fucks this up, Max's wings will probably never be taken care of again.

He takes a breath, grabs the cloths he had taken out while waiting for Max, and then sits on the small couch behind Max.

Game on.

[worldisahouseonfire]

this is helpful. whatever it takes.

sometimes when i lose the capacity to enjoy something that previously brought me life and meaning and fulfillment, especially things that require some sort of creative present focus to enjoy, it's a result of my life filling up with an anxious bombardment of meaningless garbage. especially demands in excess of supply, leading to hypervigilance and burnout, and a cycle of feeding that feeling with things that validate and reinforce it, like overconsumption of emptiness.

my cognition loses tone and flexibility. i haven't taken my brain to brain gym. i need books to keep my mind in shape, not just for comfort, and if book-reading becomes a chore, i stop going to books for relief from the chaos.

someone said to me once that the right kind of exercise for anyone is the exercise they love doing, because they'll do it more. but what does one do when terror and anhedonia have stolen any possibility of joy? when only pale hollow relief is possible, from things that give no lasting fulfillment?

whatever works, i guess. and for me that depends on having a whole lot of alternatives and coping strategies that i rotate through until one of them takes, always knowing that when it's not working anymore i may need to switch again.

i wish it was easier. i wish i could count on anything or anyone. but i can't. and tumblr is part of my coping.

also this, so even when i can't manage to read a book i remember why i love them and they're important to me (like reading a letter from someone beloved i'm out of touch with, or watching something that reminds me of an absent friend):

it's in a book

Starting around 2016, when the world started going to shit, I woke up one day to discover that I simply could not read a book, except for work. This is about how I found my way back to reading for my own pleasure.

I know I am not the only person who experienced this, yet I have struggled for years to find any kind of logical explanation for it, or actionable advice to address it. Starting around 2016, when the world started going to shit, I woke up one day to discover that I simply could not read a book. Or a magazine. Or a short story. Or more than a news item, blog post, or some intellectual empty…

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 12

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Mature (Next chapter switches to Explicit)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,652 of 32,210

Start | Prev | Next

AO3 Link

"What happened?" he asks, pulling me to my feet. "What's wrong?"

My legs shake and I try to catch my breath, feeling my nails weakly trying to grip the tweed of his jacket. "It's the conductor," I say. "Not the same guy."

The Wizard exhales a laugh at this. "Yes," he says. "We've been changing out conductors at every stop. Did you think it was the same man shoveling coal for the past three days?"

"N-No... but-"

"Look," he says, "why don't you get some rest? You’re tired from- What were you doing? Running?” He gives me a funny look as he tries to rearrange my wind-swept hair. “We've got a ways until we get to Rouncible."

The words he's saying seem right, but there's just something I can't shake about the conductor. I don't say anything as he takes my hand. I glance back at the Frottica station passing by as he helps me up the steps and back into the living compartment.

"I know that this week has been stressful and all, but I really need you to keep it together." He wraps the woolen blanket from the first night around me and guides me to sit in one of the chairs. "The cold can do funny things to the brain. You're... uh... It's going to be alright, okay?"

I nod my head once, staring out the window as we pick up a good and decent speed. Maybe now was the time to get religious. Maybe if I prayed hard enough then this whole war would be over and I would be free to go. A divine intervention.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry I snapped at you," he says.

"S'okay," I say, staring out the window. A light snow has started to fall, adding to the already heaping piles of the stuff that corridor the rail.

"We still haven't heard from Morrible, and she might be able to convince the Lord-Mayor to talk some sense into Thropp. That letter, it was only the first from days ago."

"Can you-" I stop, hesitating to ask. "Can we just sit together?"

To that, he doesn't say anything. The matching chair is dragged back over from the bedside. He sits down in it, holding my hand as I watch the snow fall, every flake a silent prayer that I would be able to see Fileah alive again.

______________________________________________

The light snow has turned to pellets of ice, giving the illusion that the roof of the train is being pelted with handfuls of rice. It’s been two, maybe three hours, and the sun has begun to paint the horizon in bruising shades of purple and indigo. The Wizard's hand is still in mine, keeping true to my request, even if I'm not really present. My gaze has been fixed on the pines that start as dark green blots of ink when they appear along the brass edge of the window, only to grow great and monstrous in size. It's the only place I can look. There was no way back, and the sooner I accepted my fate, the sooner I could plan my next move. Maybe there would be someone at the war council who pitied me enough to smuggle me back.

I've come to accept that my brain concocted the fear of the conductor as a way to stop me from leaving him. As we sit in silence, free from any pressure of time, I can see how ridiculous the idea is. The Wizard doesn't need someone to look after him. He is the Wizard of Oz, a grown man, more than capable of taking care of himself, capable of governing our great land even. I don't need him, and he doesn't need me. The next time I get the chance to get away, I won't hesitate.

I watch as the trees start to curve, cutting off the white path ahead. My free hand grips the wooden chair arm as I anticipate the slowdown that will lurch me. There wasn't always a warning – when I had spent that day out in the hallway I had taken to always having a free hand on the railing, especially with my nose in my book – but when there was, it was nice to know so I could stabilize myself. I wait, watching as the trees draw closer, but the slowdown doesn't come.

"Hey," I say, shaking the Wizard's hand. He had fallen asleep with the gentle rocking of the train but still managed to keep his hand in mine. "Hey!" I shake his shoulder.

He sputters to life, looking around. "Hmm? What? What’s going on?"

I say, "Something's wrong."

"Not the conductor business again. I told you-"

"No," I cut him off, "it's not that. The train. It's going too fast."

"Well the train is going to go fast," he replies. "That's what trains do."

I push up from my seat, pointing to the window. "No... No, look at the curve." The tree cutoff is even closer now.

The Wizard blinks sleepily as he cranes himself to get a better look. "I don't-"

A panic seizes me and I can feel my heart beat through every joint in my body as I pull him from the chair. "We need to- We need to-"

He must finally see the curve coming closer and closer, feel the way the train is not halting, because his muscles become taut under my grip. "It's not slowing," he mumbles.

I pull him one last time and this time, he comes away from the chair without effort. Our bodies tangle as we head for the exit, limbs both reaching for the door. He hugs me to his side, pressing my limbs against him as he throws open the door to the hallway.

"Something was wrong," he says. "You were right... God, you were right."

I slap my hands against his chest as he's carrying me down to the hallway. "Stop! We can't just go out there with no coats."

"Doll," he interrupts, "now is not the time to be worrying about co-"

I push out of his grasp, flying back into the living compartment to grab our coats. The thick wools in hand, he yanks me back out into the hallway and drags me down to the entrance steps. He throws open the door to the outside and the howling wind becomes deafening. The ice pellets that had sounded so gentle on the roof of the car are now flying past in a blinding wall of glass, the glitter of the snow along the tracks a deadly glimmer of shards that does not slow.

"We're-" the Wizard swallows, "We're going to have to jump."

I am doing nothing more than standing, but my heart can’t tell. "On the count of three," I squeak.

"One, two." I can't finish it.

"Three," he says.

We jump from the train in a dive and my stomach drops for the brief moment that we're flying from the car. The icy ground knocks the wind from me as we roll in the snow, tumbling to a stop. Everything hurts, and I can hear the Wizard groaning in pain. I try my best to push myself up, but yelp as my right wrist recoils from the blinding agony. Quickly, I'm cradling the injury to my chest.

"We have to-" I cough, surely drowned out by the thundering of the wheels. I try again, shouting as loud as my breathless lungs will allow me, "We have to get out of here!"

The train is still careening forward. I don’t want to be around when the wrought iron time bomb derailed and exploded.

"No-" the Wizard says, clutching his woolen coat to his chest. "Just five minutes, alright?"

I test my other arm, and satisfied with no pain, I push myself up. He's wallowing in the snow, swooped hair laden with wetness and fresh flake, eyes screwed shut in denial. I grab hold of him with my good arm, trying to ignore how the snow was already soaking into my clothes.

"Get up," I grit. "Come on, you can't just give up and die now. Get up."

"No-" the Wizard groans. "No this isn't such a bad way to go." The sun is now fully below the horizon and I know if we don't put as much distance between us and the train as possible, if it doesn't kill us, the lack of shelter will, and that will be impossible to find in the darkness.

I drop his arm and slap him across the face. That causes him to open his eyes. "It's not just you out here, asshole," I croak. My vocal cords are fried from the attempted screaming. "I'm not going to let you fucking die. Now, come on." I fall to the side of him, tugging his arm to at least get him onto his side.

The train is at the curve now, and my eyes cannot be torn away from the horror that unfolds. The terrible iron beast is jerked easily off of the track, like it were a toy in the hands of a child, sliding on its side as it twists and tumbles and turns. BANG! The sound is deafening, cracking through my bones and making me slam my sore wrist against my ear as a hundred yards away the locomotive explodes in a terrible bubbling cloud of fire infected with black vines of smoke. Parts of the engine sail sky-high as they are shot from the wreck like fireworks. My eyes trace the trajectory of one particularly misshapen piece.

"Move!" I scream, scrambling to my feet to drag the Wizard backward. I can’t drag him more than a few feet, but it's enough for the scrap of metal to miss him by inches. His chest rises and falls as he claws at my arm, scrambling to his feet away from the burning metal.

We stand there for only a moment, watching as the great roaring fire consumes what remains of the train we had occupied together for the last three days. I don't say anything, simply heading off to where I think south-east is. There was a cabin back that way I had spotted while I stared out the window not five minutes earlier, trying to forget that I had gone back for a man who didn't need saving.

___________________________________________________

The sun has fully set by now, a high and white moon rising in its place, lending a ghostly jade glow to all of the trees. We stop every few minutes as our boots fall through the powdery mix shielded by a thin crust of ice, the cold making even the easiest task of walking utterly exhausting.

I stay beside him, not trusting him to not give up and collapse back into the snow again. If I could, I would shoulder him, but both of our arms are gripped so tight to our bodies, trying to keep what little heat remains in us as the cold sucks the warmth from our faces and causes our noses to run.

It's when I'm ready to give up and let the icy mountain air steal the last of my warmth that I spy the house. It would be generous to call it a house, the moonbeams picking out the old and weathered boards that make up the shack. It can't be more than one room. I couldn't care less, letting myself bolt for it. Anything to get some kind of warmth back into me.

The Wizard calls out to me, but I ignore him. I'm sure he's worried that I'll trip and fall. If I do, I'll just drag myself to the house with the one good hand I have left. The front door is twenty feet away when I hear the growl that turns into a half-human yell. I turn to see the wild cat, his fur a shaggy sand that blended in well enough with the snow that you might miss the black tufts on his ears or the marigold eyes that are now trained on me. He must have been watching us from the thicket of trees to the left.

"Bleeding," he growls. "So far away and bleeding." An Animal, I think.

"Please," I breathe, trying to catch my breath in the thin air. "You don't want to eat me." I slowly walk backward, hoping that I'll get to the cabin and I can then shut the door on him. My eyes, flick to the Wizard and he's too far away. There's no way he'll make it to the cabin before the wild cat gets me.

"Not much to eat up here," he growls. "You, your friend..." He's struggling to form the words and I wonder how long he's been away from humans and society. "Food... month..."

"I can get you food," I say, backing up further. The lynx steps forward with each step I take back. The Wizard is closer, but not close enough. "You could feast like a king."

"Haven't eaten in days," he says. "Better to eat now..."

My legs hit the porch and I tumble, falling onto the rickety structure. The snow is so cold that it burns my hands as I crawl backward, belly up and ripe to be ripped open. I just need to get to the door. The Animal's shoulders are thrown up now, limbs bent and ready to pounce.

"Please," I whisper, knowing that it will do nothing. Maybe it is a prayer to Lurline that my death will be quick and painless under her watchful eye.

The animal yells and leaps but the blood-curdling scream is cut off by an explosion. The lynx tumbles to the side as if a supernatural entity had smacked it away. For a moment, I think Lurline has answered my prayers, and then I see the Wizard draw closer.

He is staggering in the snow, arm outstretched to the animal. The moonlight glints off something in his palm. It's shiny and silver and there is smoke rising from it. I'm not sure what to make of it as I watch the lynx attempt to rise from the snow bank it had been flung into. A second crack of thunder echoes through the valley and the lynx slumps. Blood melts the lifeless snow around him, staining it red with life.

Puffs of steam obscure the horror and I realize just how hard I had been breathing, the wool lapels of my coat rising and falling quickly like billows. I scramble to my feet, throwing myself against the side of the cabin. I want to scream, but I don't know why; the danger is gone. Tears are already wetting my cheeks as I realize how close I was to having my guts spilled into the snow.

The Wizard finally catches up to me, climbing the snow-covered steps to the porch. He's out of breath as he cups my face in his hands. "Are you alright? It didn't get you, did it?" he asks.

"Y-You." My teeth are clacking together, the cold thoroughly ravaging me. "You saved my life."

There are tears in his eyes as he brushes a thumb against my wet cheek. "Yes," his voice breaks. "Of course..." There is nothing else to say. No words can express the sentiment as he presses his lips to my forehead. A kiss, a promise of protection.

As he pulls away I can feel all of the layers of ice I had built up against him, the ideas I had told myself over and over to try and force them to be my reality, shatter and crack. He has nothing to say about saving my life because it has always been a given, even in the ballroom when he took my hand to run and took me on the train with him.

I stand there in the silence of the snow and moonlight and kiss him.

[zshiftsrealties]

HOW SHIFTING FOUND ME A SECOND TIME, AND HOW TO BELIEVE SHIFTING IS REAL?

this is my personal take on the topic, and i'm not saying everyone will benefit from this advice because different people work differently. but this worked for me, and I hope that if you find this; this'll work for you too.

for me personally, I don't think "scientific proof" ever helped me believe shifting was real. I found the CIA document back in 2020-2021, and it still didn't change my view on shifting whatsoever. yeah, it was proof that it was real, but my mind didn't accept that. maybe "science" wasn't proof enough because to me science is always lagging behind everything else (from a religious aspect).

even after learning about how the mind works, the subconscious, etc etc and everything else and how it's proved by science still didn't help me at all.

eventually, I left the shifting community, and shifting in general. I completely stopped and thought "oh maybe once i'm older, and i'm somewhere with no noise, ideal setting, blah blah blah, I'll pick it up again". bullshit, I know. but because I just didn't believe it, I felt like making an excuse to not let myself feel bad.

so now, i'm completely out of the "shifting every night" phase, and back to "normal" routine. however, anytime I would watch some show, anime, movie, even some video on my feed of some beautiful place — anything, my mind would go "oh, I can shift there" or "oh, I'd like to shift there". but still, I discarded that thought.

then last year (2024), I decided to watch My Hero Academia from the beginning once again (cause why not), and throughout, I kept thinking "I want to shift there". and then, Shigaraki/AFO "killed" Katsuki in the Final War Arc. I cried ugly for so long, and kept thinking "no no no, that's not happening. i'm going to shift there and beat Shigaraki up for this" (I didn't even like Katsuki back then).

and so, I started to search, once again, about shifting. shifting storytimes, tiktoks, anything; everything. keep in mind I still had the doubt if shifting was even real.

now onto the topic of how to believe shifting is real? how I believed shifting was real, was by finding this one shifter on youtube; Cadmus (Shifting with Cad). I watched her videos, and the sincerity in her tone, the glimmer in her eyes when she would be telling an experience, and that smile of "relief" of finally getting to experience something so amazing yet so simple, is what made me believe in shifting.

obviously, I didn't just see her once and go "I totally believe it's real". it was a process, a slightly longer one, but one that was absolutely natural. anytime I would think that it was all a big lie, i'd think back to her and go "she can't be lying, I just know it. and that's what slowly, but surely made me believe that it is infact real.

so my advice to anyone who, despite knowing the scientific evidence of it, and knowing the science behind it all, still doubts shifting; is that find someone, a creater, a blogger, just anyone in general who, when you hear them talk about their experiences, you feel that they're absolutely not lying, even with all the doubts you have, and believe them until you don't need to believe them to believe that shifting is real.

it's okay to doubt, you don't have to beat yourself up over them. just know that at the end of the day, the world you see exists only through you, and if your eyes were to close the very next moment, your world would end with you. so believe the craziest things ever without logic, because you simply can.

[witchygagirlwrites]

Kelly Severide x Reader x Matt Casey

Vibes based off Fix What You Didn't break by Nate Smith

Edit and request by @desimarie12

When you started at fifty one it was a temporary position. Someone to help out as a partner for Sylvie until someone permanent could be found. Matt and Kelly never knew they'd find the one person who could repair their hearts the day you came sweeping into the doors of the station house.

You were quiet at times you should be loud and loud when you should be quiet, unbearable at night because you barely slept, acted like you couldn't exist without music and drank more coffee than rescue squad combined. 

You could also talk everyone into a snowball fight at two in the morning. You made the best pancakes and somehow could guess everyone's favorite color within a few minutes of talking to them.  You picked up on people's moods and could figure out if they needed someone to vent to, help finding a solution or just a distraction from whatever was plaguing them at the moment.

The day Kelly started to fall was actually Shay’s birthday. You didn’t know what the day was or why everyone, including Matt, was even giving him such a wide berth. He’d locked himself in his quarters where he planned to stay until a call came in but then you came knocking. He hadn’t looked up the first time but you were nothing if not persistent.

When he finally stood and unlocked the door you walked past him and sat down on the edge of his desk “Do you want to talk about it?” he sat down in the chair about a foot from you and stared you down “About what exactly?” 

The smile you gave him was one you normally reserved for trying to calm patients but he could tell it was genuine nonetheless “Whatever it is that’s bothering you so much even Matt hasn’t hardly looked your way. Your shoulders and jaw are so tense my muscles are hurting looking at them and your eyes look so damn sad”

He didn't know what it was but staring into your eyes he couldn't keep that wall up no matter how hard he tried. He found himself telling you all about Shay. By the time he was done you were standing next to the chair with your arms around his shoulders and his head was leaned over on your stomach “I'm so sorry Kel. I can't imagine losing someone like that. I've never had anyone mean that much to me. Just remember those we love are never truly gone as long as we carry them in our hearts. Any time you want to talk about her, come and find me. I'll be glad to listen” 

He probably should've been embarrassed, falling apart like that. Not showing a stronger front but he couldn't find that emotion in himself. He felt better after talking to you, a little less broken. He had no idea how you managed to have that quality about you, a tornado of a thing but yet here you were calming those around you. The eye of the storm and helping to calm it down. 

“Thank you darlin” he whispered and saw a smirk slip onto your face “Darlin huh? Listen at you being all sweet. She must have been one hell of a woman to have that effect on you”

The day Matt started to fall was when all of you responded to a call with another station house. You were working triage as they bought victims out of a warehouse fire.

The way you handled yourself as you worked the tent was extraordinary. You were helping Sylvie along with the medics from the other house. Moving from patient to patient, offering them a kind smile and never showing any sign of exhaustion.

When he went in he could hear your voice across the radio, behind Chief Boden yelling at the other house's men. He had no clue what was going on so he and Kelly worked continuing to clear the floor they were on until Boden called for them to clear out.

When they made it out you were currently being held back by Cruz and Capp from arguing with the captain of the other house. “Woah. Why is my medic trying to kill you?” He asked and you stopped fighting to turn towards the sound of his voice “This asshole decided to tear a wall down when Boden told him not to and forced the flames back towards you and Severide. That's why the clear out had to be called”

He turned to the other captain “Why didn't you listen to my chief?” The other captain shrugged “You have to take risks every now and then Casey” then glanced towards Kelly “Ask your boyfriend. We all know his track record” 

“That's it!” You yelled and dove over Cruz’s shoulder and Matt barely caught you as Boden ordered the other captain off the scene.

He carried you over to the triage tent before sitting you down. You were still breathing heavy and glaring at the members of the other house “Assholes want to endanger my captain and lieutenant then act like it wasn't a big deal”

“Your captain and lieutenant?” He asked and you shrugged “Until Boden finds a permanent partner for Sylvie” a smile slipped onto his face “I don't know you're sounding like you belong here” and you grinned “Maybe I just have decided you two won't take care of yourselves so someone needs to”

Kelly and Matt stood in their kitchen across from each other at the counter, both silent drinking coffee. “Y/N's contract is up this month” Kelly broke the silence.

“We're not letting her leave are we?” Matt asked and Kelly shook his head “Not without an effort to get her to stay”

______________

The day they finally got up the nerve to ask you if there was any way you'd let the two of them take you out you surprised them with letting them know you were officially a permanent fixture of fifty one.

"What made you decide to stay?” Matt asked as the three of you walked by the waterfront. You looked between them then shrugged “Maybe I like my captain and lieutenant just a little bit”

You wouldn't let either of them get in their heads. If Matt pulled away from Kelly you were pulling him back and vice versa. If Benny came around making Kelly doubt himself you were there, reminding him how good of a man he truly was.

Neither of them knew what it was about you. Was it the fact that you were wild where they were calm and the calm where they were wild? Was it the fact that you could see through any facade they put up and pinpoint exactly what was going on in their heads at the moment? 

You were the light to lead them home no matter the storm and always shined bright. When you would curl up between them and make sure to be touching them both before falling asleep, when they'd find you the next morning wearing one of  their shirts and dancing around the kitchen while the coffee made. 

When they would see your eyes tracking them on a scene and how your shoulders relaxed when they walked out. When they would have their absolute worst days but then come home and you would curl up on the couch and ask them to watch a movie and that day would melt away?

Yeah. You didn't realize it but you saved them. With your love, your spirit and just the person you were. 

[silverynight]

Step by step

Before going to the teachers' break room, Izuku stays in his office for a while, looking for his bento box and then realizing he forgot to make himself lunch.

He sighs, heading to the entrance, when he hears a tap on the window and gets startled the moment he sees Katsuki in his hero uniform, already looking very tired.

He quickly opens the window and moves aside so the pro hero can jump inside.

"What are you doing here, Kacchan? I thought you had patrol today?"

"I do, but it's my lunch break," he grumbles before handing Izuku one of the bento boxes he's carrying. "Take this. I made an extra one for you."

"Thank you, Kacchan!"

"It's not a big deal, nerd!" He protests, but he blushes when Izuku gives him a hug.

"Kacchan," the teacher immediately worries as soon as he actually looks at his friend. "You're hurt!"

"These are just scratches. Don't wo–"

"Sit on my desk so I can patch you up," Izuku cuts him off. He's not willing to take a 'No' for an answer this time, and Katsuki is probably aware of it because he does as he's told.

It's true, those are just simple scratches, but Izuku can't stop worrying about Katsuki.

"There you go!"

"Great. Now, can we fucking eat?"

"Yeah, sure!"

They eat in silence, although the young teacher notices that Katsuki keeps glancing at him every now and then.

"This is delicious, Kacchan," Izuku beams, leaning closer to the pro hero. "Can't believe you're a great cook as well."

"I'm the best at everything, nerd. You know that already," he smirks, moving closer to the teacher, until their shoulders touch. Then, sounding a bit more shy, he adds: "I'm glad you liked it, Izuku."

There's a knock at the door that annoys Katsuki immediately, but Izuku can't ignore.

"Come in!"

Aizawa rolls his eyes as soon as he sees the pro hero.

"I didn't know you were scheduled for today. Will you talk to Midoriya's students about hero work?"

"You know I'm not in the schedule," Katsuki retorts, not moving an inch away from Izuku.

"Fine!" Aizawa sighs before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Just don't get handsy. You're inside a school."

The pro hero blushes to the tip of his ears, although he does glare at his former teacher the whole time.

"Why would we get handsy?" Izuku tilts his head, confused.

"Oh. I see." Aizawa says then and looks at Katsuki with something close to pity. "Good luck with that."

"What did he mean by that?"

"Nothing. Just keep eating your lunch, nerd."

When it's time for Katsuki to leave, Izuku pulls him into a hug.

"Be careful, Kacchan."

"I always am, Izuku," the pro hero assures him before pressing his chin on top of his green curls. "I won't be here to pick you up, I have to work until the morning."

"It's okay, Kacchan. You don't have to worry about me."

Katsuki doesn't reply anything to that, but he nuzzles against the teacher's curls before letting him go and jumping through the window.

Izuku watches him go with a smile on his face.

***

At three in the morning, someone opens Izuku's apartment; they try not to make too much noise, but he's not scared, this has happened before and he knows exactly who it is.

He knows because Izuku gave the key to Katsuki himself; the very first time it happened though, the pro hero tried to get in through his window, he managed to get inside, but almost got knocked out by the teacher who mistook him for a burglar at first. Katsuki didn't get mad then, he was quite impressed actually and even admitted it was his fault for not telling Izuku he wanted to crash at his place.

After the third time, Izuku gave him a copy of his apartment's key and now Katsuki is there three or even four times a week. He claims it's more convenient for him, but the teacher is not so sure about that. Katsuki keeps some of his clothes there too, and has his own room now.

Izuku is seriously considering asking him to move in with him. Although he gets flustered just to think about it; he knows he shouldn't be so nervous though, they're friends, they can be roommates too.

Despite Katsuki being always careful, Izuku usually wakes up, although he goes back to sleep as soon as he recognizes the footsteps.

His eyes close again when he hears the shower and Izuku starts falling back asleep until Katsuki walks into his room and lies on the bed right next to him.

Feeling the pro hero's arm around his waist is very effective to wake him up completely.

"Kacchan?"

"Didn't mean to wake you up, nerd."

"That's not it," Izuku sighs, glad it's dark and he has his back on Katsuki so the pro hero doesn't notice the blush on his cheeks. "You have your own bed!"

"Yours is more comfortable." The blond hero mumbles, in a tone Izuku knows very well; he doesn't plan to move anytime soon and he doesn't want to talk about it again.

Izuku takes a deep breath and decides to sleep a little bit longer; he doesn't mind having Katsuki sleeping next to him, the problem is that he probably likes it more than he should.

And the pro hero doesn't help by nuzzling against his curls every five seconds or tightening his grip around him.

Izuku wakes up first, but it takes him a very long time to pry Katsuki's arms off him; it was a very difficult task considering he had to do it without making too much noise.

He makes pancakes because it's easy and Katsuki can heat them up and add anything he wants to later.

Despite his best efforts, Katsuki wakes up; they have a quiet breakfast together before Izuku rushes towards the bathroom to get ready for school.

"I'll drive you."

"You should go back to sleep."

"I'll do it after I take you to the UA," Katsuki insists and Izuku knows that nothing he says will make him change his mind.

On the way to the UA, Izuku decides to talk to the pro hero about what he's been considering for a while now.

"If it's truly more convenient for you, you can move in with me, Kacchan."

He's glad there's a red light because the blond turns his head to look at him in that moment.

"Are you serious?"

Even if Izuku wasn't before, he is now after looking at the hopeful glimmer in Katsuki's red eyes.

"Yes."

"No take backs?"

"No take backs, I promise," Izuku says, smiling at his friend.

"I'll get all my stuff today."

"Kacchan, you should sleep first."

"Don't worry about it, nerd. I'll buy coffee on my way to my apartment."

Izuku doesn't argue with him because he's sure there's no point. Honestly, he's not sure why Katsuki is so excited about it, he's been to his place a couple of times, and Izuku knows for a fact that it's way better than Izuku's.

"I'll pick you up, Izuku."

"Kacchan, I can perfectly-"

"Shut up, nerd. I'll see you in a few hours."

***

They get used to living with each other quite well actually, although it's not that surprising considering they basically did that already.

Katsuki does most of the cooking while Izuku cleans and patches the pro hero up every now and then.

His friend wanted to pay the whole rent himself, but after a long discussion with Izuku, agreed to just give him half of it.

They surprisingly make it work quite well; Katsuki finally goes to his own room at night, although Izuku wakes up in the mornings with a very exhausted pro hero wrapped around him every now and then.

Even though Katsuki has not mentioned this change to anyone, his fans have noticed that he's more patient now during interviews, he agrees to give his autographs more often and is not that grumpy around civilians anymore.

Izuku's students have noticed something's different too, especially because they have caught pro hero Dynamight in the school more often, even though he's not in the schedule for that day.

They try not to seem too curious about the situation because they know their teacher won't tell them anything directly, but they have started to ask weird questions.

They've been trying to figure out if Izuku is in a relationship with someone by asking if he's coming alone to the Halloween party or if he plans to bring someone on Christmas. He has noticed they look at Izuku's bento boxes in an odd way, and one of them tries to find out if he makes his lunch himself. Of course, Katsuki makes them, but when Izuku finally says that a friend gives them to him, they start acting even more weird.

Until one day, Izuku finally tells them that he's single, and even after that, they look like they don't believe him.

And that's when he finds the pictures online; there are many of them with Katsuki with an arm around his shoulders or waist, going out or inside many places; they both have gotten into the habit of going to a cafe or a nice restaurant at least once a week, mostly to celebrate their accomplishments.

The comments under every single one of those posts are mostly the same: everyone believes they're dating and that Dynamight is head over heels for the UA teacher. They even call him a simp. Izuku doesn't quite get that word but has an idea of what it means based on how his students often use it.

That day, when Katsuki comes pick him up, he's happier than usual, he even lifts him in his arms and nuzzles against his cheek before putting him back on his feet.

All of that in front of the UA's entrance. The rumors about them dating start making a lot more sense.

"They gave me a bonus, nerd! Let's celebrate! Where do you want to go?"

Still blushing to the tip of his ears, Izuku manages to convince Katsuki to get in the car.

"Kacchan, we should be more careful. Have you seen Instagram or X lately? People think we're dating!"

"I know." Katsuki says, with a weird neutral expression on his face, his friend has never been neutral about anything in his life.

"Aren't you upset?"

"Not really. You know I don't care what other people think," he says, almost fiercely. Then, after a couple of seconds, as his hands suddenly grab the steering wheel with a bit too much force, he adds: "What about you? Does it bother you?"

It does, but mostly because it's not real and part of Izuku would like it to be, but he can't say that to Katsuki. It'd probably ruin their friendship.

"No. It's just... well, they call you my simp."

"Well, it's true."

"Kacchan! This is not funny!"

"Who said it was?" The pro hero hisses, looking finally annoyed by the situation. Then, he glances at Izuku for a moment, and his annoyance vanishes to be replaced by something close to despair. "How have you not noticed, Izuku? It's not like I've been trying to hide it!"

"What do you mean?" The teacher stammers, face growing hot with each second.

"I mean, there are quite a few pictures of me staring at your ass or thighs; that suit does look amazing on you, by the way. Or this one of me staring at your face when you're not looking. I agree with all of them, I do seem like a besotted idiot."

"Kacchan!" Izuku tries to make him stop, heart beating inside his chest faster. "D-Don't joke about something like that! I'm serious!"

"So am I!" The pro hero narrows his eyes for a second before leaning closer and cradling Izuku's face in his hands. "How can you not see that I'm hopelessly in love with you?"

Izuku starts tearing up, he considers asking Katsuki if he's sure, but then he sees it in his red eyes; it's written all over his face, and it makes him even more beautiful.

"I love you too, Kacchan."

Hope comes back to those eyes Izuku likes so much, and they shine in a way that make him smile in response.

"Let's get married, nerd."

Izuku chuckles at that, although he does turn quite red again. His heart begs him to say yes, but there's part of him that wants the two of them to wait a bit.

"Let's date for a while first."

"Fine! Have it your way!" Katsuki rolls his eyes before kissing Izuku.

They're still outside the UA, so even though Izuku is enjoying the experience quite a lot, he tells his pro hero boyfriend to go somewhere else.

"Let's have our first date."

"Later, I promise," Katsuki says in a low whisper before giving Izuku a desperate kiss on the neck. "We should go back home first."

They do not go out that day; they spend the evening and night in Izuku's bedroom, but they do make a very rushed dinner.

Izuku doesn't mind; they have the rest of their lives to do all the things they want together.

***

Patreon

[lostinlovingrevery]

Let Me Wash Your Sins Away (Let me Love You)

Old Man Logan X Reader Oneshot

Plot: You love him, but he won't let you. Until one day he comes home, nearly on his deathbed, and he finally lets you take care of him the way you always craved

A/N: A oneshot (is that the correct term? I'm so new to this) of an idea that popped in my head, this came out more angsty than I originally planned, and I also started getting tired towards as it's almost 1 in the morning for me, but I really wanted to finish it tonight, so it probably sound a little rushed towards the end. but I hope ya'll enjoy! I just wanna take care of Old Man Logan <3

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, descriptions of blood and gunshot wounds, kinda angsty, talks of worshiping, mentions of dirty thoughts and just being horny towards Logan in general but he won't let you (go to horny jail)

Word Count: 3113

You sat at a table, tapping your foot anxiously against the floor, as you glanced at the clock, for the tenth time in a row in the last five minutes. You pressed your palms to the table, in an attempt to ground yourself from the nausea-induced anxiety you were experiencing. Your brows were creased in worry, your lips pulled back tightly in a grimace. 

You were waiting for someone. Someone who somehow manages to fill you with an intense rush of emotions, both love-

And fear. 

Not of him, but of what is happening to him, what could happen to him.  

You met Logan a little less than a year ago, and he had managed to carve a space out in your

 heart, the quiet, reserved, and sometimes cranky old man that he is.

 He had found you and asked you for your help in taking care of Charles, your powers and excellent knowledge in handling mutants who couldn’t control- or lost control of their abilities had made you perfect for the job. You, of course, jumped at the opportunity to help. You didn’t know Charles Xavier personally, but you admired the work he’s done and quickly grew fond of the old man. Throughout the year, you attempted to get to know Logan, since you had to put your trust in him to keep you, Charles, and Caliban fed, sheltered, and safe. Logan was initially dismissive of you, and it wasn’t because he was a jerk but because he saw something with you he hadn’t felt in a long time and it terrified him, especially after 200 years of living and losing anyone and everyone he’s ever cared for. Life had beaten him to a pulp on the ground, yet he was still pushing himself up, not ready to give in just yet- and you were there, helping him up every time. You were persistent though, and you had carved a way into his heart as well. Yet it all remained unspoken. Logan was stubborn as a bull but so were you. You both carried on your daily routine, you took care of Charles, and you cooked and cleaned as well, while Logan worked, making money to keep food on the table, and afford Charles medicine.

There were moments though, soft moments with Logan that filled your heart. You always tried to make things easier on him, so that when he wasn’t working, he could truly rest. Sometimes, while you were preparing dinner, he’d come out of his room and sit with you, albeit silently. You could always feel his eyes on you even with your back turned but if you looked at him he’d look away. If you were in the living space, he’d sit out there with you, and if you caught him on a good day, you’d get some semblance of a conversation out of him. 

One day, out of the blue, he had come up behind you, closer than you ever felt him before, so close that you could feel his breath on your neck and the heat radiating off of him. His hand came around you, resting on the hand that was holding a pepper that you were dicing. His hand was rough and dry, covered in calluses- yet it was so careful and so gentle as he rested it over yours. You’d stop, your breath hitching and your heart pounding in your chest at his proximity. Your eyes would flit to his hand on yours, and you would see the deep scars resting on his knuckles where the sharp, killer adamantium claws would unsheathe themselves, and you felt yourself having to resist the urge to kiss each scar. His thumb would brush over your hand, and he would lower his lips to your ear, his breath sending waves of goosebumps over your skin.

“Thank you.” He’d say in a low voice, deep and mesmerizing. “For all that you do around here.” 

His scratchy beard would brush against your ear, as he turned his head, and pressed a kiss to your temple. He removed his hand from yours and left the area that was designated a kitchen in this old factory. You’d be left shaking, trying to catch your breath, not from fear, but just at the intimate moment he’d bless you with. 

There were many moments like that, but he’d never talk about it, because anytime you bring it up, he’d make you shut up with just a firm stare, and it led to something unspoken. There were countless moments similar to that you shared with him, each one never leading into anything more. You never kissed (on the lips), you never had sex, you barely even had a hug from him. Logan though, the sly dog he was, always found a way to get his lips on you, whether it was the top of your head, your cheek, the palm of your hand, your shoulder- hell he even got the back of your neck once. It was teasing, giving you just barely a taste of what it could be like. You picked up on it not long ago. He’d come up when you were distracted, say something sweet, and get his lips on you somewhere, and then walk away. It filled you to the brim with frustration because it always made you want more, yet he’d never allow you to do anything to him. You tried. You’ve tried to peck his cheek, his hand, anything. You’ve tried to initiate conversations and intimacy, you tried to be as sly as he was- but he’d always shut you down. The point is, that he’s stubborn, and he refuses to accept any affection from you, in any shape, way, or form. 

You practically worshipped Logan. He knew it too, there was no way he didn’t, with the yearning glances he catches from you, the way you’re so eager to help him, how you’d make his favorite meals, you’d pick up his favorite brand of cigars and leave it on his pillow for him to find when he comes home from work. You’d go out of your way to please him, and you knew him in every way that mattered. You didn’t need him to tell you how he was feeling because you could read his eyes easily. You knew that you could take good care of him. If only he’d let you. 

It’s okay though. With the way you felt about him, you didn’t mind his stubborn ways. You didn’t mind everything being unspoken. You knew that you would slowly chip away at his adamantium skeleton eventually. He would break finally, and let you love him the way he deserves, the way he always deserved. You’ve come to the acceptance that Logan had been through years of hurt, and that he wasn’t going to open up overnight. So as much as you desired him, physically, emotionally, spiritually, you just hoped and you prayed to whoever was listening- that you’d get the chance to make him happy before the man got himself killed. Or being the adamantium killed him first

You stared at the door, willing it to open, for Logan to walk in, his usual self, exhausted and grumpy as he shed his jacket. You’d ask him about his night, and he’d answer gruffly on whether it was good or bad. If you were lucky, he’d tell you about some annoying ass customer he had, and you’d smile and laugh, and then he’d barely crack a smile, because he got to make you laugh, even if it was just a moment. There were a few times you’d seen a hint of that beautiful smile breaking through, and every single time it took your breath away. 

You heard heavy footsteps, and you jumped up from your chair, almost knocking it down with how fast you moved, as you quickly ran to open the door and greet him. 

You weren’t expecting this.

He looked terrible. Worse than you've ever seen him. His usually nice suit was practically torn to shreds, blood, and dirt staining the white dress shirt. The bags under his eyes were deeper and darker than they were when he left hours ago. His salt and pepper hair was a mess. You could see his hands were shaking terribly, and he was leaning to one side, barely able to put his full weight on the other side. He looked at you, exhausted, and almost desperate as he stepped inside. You covered your mouth with your hand.

“Lo- Logan! What happened?” You finally exclaimed, quickly going to his side, and helping him walk further into the room. You pulled out a chair from the table and helped him sit- pulling off his jacket- making him groan in pain just from moving his shoulders and arms as you slid the jacket down his arms. You discarded it to the side, still focused on him. He just leaned forward, not responding to your question. You could see the bruises along his neck- and that’s when you spotted the holes- bullet holes that littered through his torso, have created torn holes throughout. “Logan-” You gasped as you observed his whole self. He barely grunted in acknowledgement to you. This was exactly what you were afraid of, some days, he’d come home fine, just cranky, and others-...This was the worst you’d seen him, and it made you fear the worst, terrified now that even if he gets through this, what will happen next time? You felt the tears begin to well up in your eyes, but you quickly swallowed them back, you couldn’t allow yourself to be overcome with emotion right now, especially since he needed you now. “Lo, C’mon.” You encourage, grabbing his arm to get him to stand. He wouldn’t at first, either because he was too weak, or he didn’t want to move. “Lo, baby, come on. Work with me here.” You said softly to him, and that seemed to reach him- as grunted, pushing himself off the chair- and you led him to the bathroom. You sat him on the toilet, while you turned to turn on the tap, letting it run to get warm, as you turned your attention back to Logan. 

He had tipped his head back, leaning against the back of the toilet, arms hanging limply over his thighs. His mouth hung open just a bit, as he took shallow breaths, his chest rising and falling with each, an occasional grunt of pain escaping him. You clenched your fists, pushing back the emotion you felt, as you moved to unbutton his dress shirt. His hand came up quickly, grabbing your wrists- somehow managing to still be so gentle as he grabbed you, and stopped you from continuing, and you looked up at him. His eyes hung half open, looking down at you

“Lo, let me take care of you.” You say firmly, your eyes staring back piercingly at him. “Please-” You brought your free hand to his cheek. Your thumb softly stroked over his cheekbone, where a small bruise was painted, his eyes fluttered shut at your touch, and slowly he released his grip on your wrist. 

You continued your mission. Carefully unbuttoning his dress shirt, you slid it down his arms in a similar fashion to his jacket. Next, you worked on the wife beater he wore underneath. You gently encouraged him to lift his arms upwards, allowing you to tear the ruined shirt from his skin. It made you gasp, seeing just how wrecked his torso was. You placed a hand over his chest gently, and his muscles flexed at your touch.

 “Did you…Expel the bullets already?” You asked quietly. He grunted and nodded quietly. You nodded with him. Then you looked down at his pants and took a deep breath. You brought your hand down, resting it on his knee. “Is it okay if I… help take these off of you?” You ask quietly. 

You could see his muscles flexing, tensing up, and holding like that. Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed harshly, and for a moment you wondered if you had gone too far, but then he nodded, flooding you with relief that you hadn’t pushed his boundaries. You brought your hands to his buckle, slowly unbuckling it, pulling the leather belt open, and then you moved to unbutton his pants. Your hands were practically shaking as you did so, your mind was going far off into places it shouldn’t. To be honest, this wasn’t quite how you imagined taking his belt- or pants off for the first time. Yet the moment, while not quite what you imagined, felt intimate nonetheless. You looked up at him. His eyes were shut tight, and his breathing was deeper, but more practiced like he was telling himself to breathe, it almost seemed that his nerves at your actions matched your own. That’s when it hit you. Nothing about this was sexual. You and Logan had your feelings for each other, both physical and emotional, but that was something to be addressed at another time. At this moment, he just needed you, to be what you’ve always been for him so you came into his life- his reason to keep going. You kneeled, working on his shoes, pulling each one off, and then his socks. You helped him stand, as he leaned against you, and you pulled down his pants- and his boxers. 

You kept your eyes away from that part of him, purely to be respectful. He hasn’t said anything, and you know he ain’t exactly shy. You wouldn’t want someone oogling at your body when you’re already in pain, and vulnerable, having to put your trust in someone taking care of you. Trust already wasn’t easy for Logan, and you weren’t about to break it or take advantage of it. 

He stepped into the tub and lowered inside it with your help. He did his best to silence his grunts and groans, trying not to be loud for your sake, but the warm water both soothed and stunned his body. His open wounds, only just now starting to heal, began to bleed into the water, as well as the dirt that clung to the lower half of his body slowly washed off. You grabbed a rag, dunked it into the water, and looked at him. You knew this moment was pivotal to your relationship with Logan, and it wasn’t because he was sitting here naked in front of you, or that he allowed you to undress him. It was because he was finally, finally allowing you to take care of him, the way you always wanted. You knew you needed to be slow, and gentle with him, as you began to wash over him, starting with his face, then his shoulders, his back, and finally his chest. Slow, soft circles as you began to wash the blood, the dirt, and the sins off of him. The water had become so dirty, that you had to drain the bathtub and refill it again, just to wash over him once more, this time with soap, as you ran your hands through his hair, scrubbing his scalp, before moving down to his shoulders, massaging at the tense knots you felt there. Logan had leaned his entire body towards you as you worked him over, eyes closed, an occasional pleased groan escaping him, whenever your fingers ran through his hair, or your hands brushed soothingly over an aching spot. 

“We’re almost done.” You say soothingly to him, as you squeeze the rag over his chest, excess water pouring out, washing away another layer of soap. “Then you can dry off, and get into bed, and rest. Okay?”

He turned his head to you. His eyes were more alert but relaxed. 

“You shouldn’t have to do this.” He muttered lowly, examining the details of your face. “This isn’t right. You…You shouldn’t be taking care of me, sweetheart. I don’t deserve it.” 

You looked at him, your expression turning into something soft. That’s why Logan refused you. He rejected your advances, all your attempts at getting close to him, because he didn’t believe he deserved it. You knew he struggled looking at himself like he was a good man, and you never understood why, because the Logan you knew, was a hero. Not because he served in wars, was a part of the xmen, and did all the glorious things that heroes did. He was a hero because despite all he went through, all the heartbreak and hurt- he still got up every day, and he took care of you. He took care of Charles. He kept enduring the hardships life threw at him- all for the sake of helping this one man, who saw potential in him and changed his whole life around. Logan could have left, he could have moved on from everything like he had for 200 years, but he stuck around for Charles, and you wondered if you’ve become a part of that reason too. 

You brought your hand to his cheek, looking him in the eyes. “Yes, you do Lo.” You say softly. There was so much more you wanted to say, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. He looked so exhausted, and so vulnerable. Now wasn’t the time for admitting feelings. “I want to do this. I want to take care of you, because you take care of me.” 

There was a moment of silence.

Logan brought his hand up to yours that cupped your cheek, and closed his eyes as he savored your touch. You kept him going. He avoided letting you reciprocate his affections because he believed you deserved better, that he didn’t deserve you and the worship he saw in your eyes every time you looked at him. How many nights has he resisted the urge to go into your room, climb into your bed, and show you how he really felt for you; Even tonight, as he got the shit beaten out of him, he thought about you- and he knew he had to make it back because the idea of leaving you alone in this world was too much to bear. He couldn’t let your hands touch him, your lips on his skin because he carried too many sins with him, and he wouldn’t want to ruin the good he sees in you. Now though, as you carefully wash him, gentle, caring, worshiping with every brush of the washrag against his skin, he felt that maybe he got it wrong. Maybe, instead of him protecting you from his sins…You could wash away his sins, and create something new, all for you to do as you please. 

Maybe now, he'll finally let you love him.

[worldly-fluster]

The LADS boys when you 'like' someone else.

*This will be based off of what's going on with me and my irl love life rn.*

**The guy that you 'like', I'll call him...Kane. You guys are old friends from your job before you actually became a hunter.**

Sylus, Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel

***There will be a part two!!!!***

Sylus-

He...kinda expected this.

He knew that you could possibly already like someone that wasn't him, but he expected one of the three other men vying for your attention on the daily.

Not that one guy, Kane, that you used to work with.

You told him that there was a guy you liked, and that you were planning on telling him that you like him soon, you didn't say a name at first so he felt his heart flutter, thinking that maybe you liked him too.

But then when he encouraged you to just go for it, tell the guy now, instead of waiting, he saw you pick up your phone and send a text.

He waited for a second for his own phone to ring with a notification, until you showed him your screen.

There was the text, 'I like you 😃'. Right under the contact named Kane...

You smiled at him, not knowing his blood ran cold and his heart dropped.

He really shouldn't have let his hopes up...

Xavier-

This boi.

This boi already knew you liked someone else.

He just thought he could somehow get you to see that he liked you more than what that guy did.

He could treat you better.

When you asked him for advice on how to tell this...Kade Guy, whatever his name is, that you like him, he just said 'Don't. He probably doesn't like you.'

He said it in jealousy, not realizing that he hurt your feelings at first until you frowned.

You said that you were just gonna send him a text, rip off the bandaid then.

Xavier froze as he watched you pull out that damned device, clicked onto that guys contact and typed out the dreaded question that wrung out his heart.

He could only watch as you left his apartment to your own as you waited for the answer.

Zayne-

He was just giving you a check up, a normal thing for the both of you at this point.

Every time he got close to you, he could feel his fingers tingle in a warmth he loves.

But that small joy of his was short lived when he heard your phone notification go off.

It must be this Kane guy you talk about often.

He stiffened a bit when you looked down at it and smiled before sending a reply then turned to him with a question after a bit of thought.

How do you tell someone you like them?

Zayne sat straight, clearing his throat of the lump that appeared there before answering.

I would tell them, no sugar coating it. Be blunt.

You smiled at him, making his heart ache, as you typed to Kane.

He wanted to stop you, tell you that you were looking in the wrong direction, that he's right here. Waiting.

But he couldn't.

He just wants you to be happy...

Rafayel-

You...you keep on hurting him without realizing it, huh.

He's waited 800 years, walked though deserts, climbed mountains, swam seas, traveled the world. All to find you.

Only for you to love someone else?

This, this urchin doesn't deserve you. No one but him does.

He told you that telling this guy, Kent or whatever, wouldn't be a good idea.

But you insisted.

He can't ever stay mad you, but he will be here if anything happens.

If this guy even breathes your way funnily, thinks of hurting you...

Raf watched as you sent the awful text, the dagger in his heart.

He felt his hands shake as he tried to distract himself with his painting, but every brush stroke he made seemed wrong, painful.

He really, really hopes he doesn't reciprocate...

****wrote this on my lunch break, I'm also going to soon confess to the irl guy I like, I'll let you guys know how it goes!!!****

[oli-ribbun-ver]

EP 4 RAMBLE PART 2!!

(plus some theories of mine ft other episodes)

YAY COLOR!!! ooh i should add color to the text in part 1 too... itll look more fun that way! ANYWAY SORYR

I've already talked about Jax vs Ragatha when they commented on Gangle being happy, but just a quick recap in case yall didnt see part 1!

Jax says "I like you better when you're sad," whereas Ragatha says "You're kind of annoying when you have your happy mask."

IMO, it's a HUGE difference. I mention in part 1 why I think Jax is implying he doesn't necessarily dislike when she's happy! I'll be continuing my talk in Ragatha here, although I recommend checking out part 1 before this, so it starts to make more sense!

ALRIGHT! HERE WE GO!

Like I said in part 1, almost everyone knows that Ragatha is a people pleaser. Gangle especially knows this.

You can tell Gangle's already had these thoughts for a while. It's easier to tell if you hear it from the episode because of the tone, but you get the picture, hopefully!

I'd like to note, Gangle says "After a while," which also helps imply she's had these ideas for a while.

I see a lot of people hear this bit and wonder what Gangle's talking about when she says this line, or just breeze right over it which kind of bothers me, considering Ragatha literally JUST said she finds Gangle annoying when she's happy, but that's besides the point, just something I find odd.

I have a lot of feelings about the Jax vs Ragatha wording, but I guess part 1 and this part is all I can really say without getting TOO emotional over it, so I'd like to move onto my next thing!

Gangle Is ALSO A People-Pleaser.

(probably moreso than Ragatha)

Let's begin with the obvious. A people-pleaser is someone who only wants to please others, regardless of what they feel. At least, that's the basics. There are different levels/layers of people pleasers, and I believe Gangle may be on a higher level then Ragatha when it comes to that.

Gangle is... unhealthy, insecure, wants to disappear, and both mentally and physically fragile.

But anyway, Ganglwait what where did my paragraph go... okay i lost it somehow UM ANYWAY

I will be honest, I have a LOT to say about Gangle's fragility, but that would include straying from the mainly-ep-4 focus post. If yall ever want me to go full-blown Gangle Ramble and include every episode, then I'm more than happy to do that! But as it stands right now, here's just a few mentions!

It's easy to see more of Gangle's people-pleasing tendencies, and exactly how mentally screwed up she is through other episodes and even her character introductions, which I'd LOVE to get into, BUT NOT NOW!!!

She doesn't want to cause problems. Honestly, nobody does, but Gangle especially. This episode, you can tell she thinks she's holding everyone back. When she finally gets to be confident and in charge, she's told she's annoying. She 'causes a problem'. That's not what she wants to do.

When Pomni says "We're doing another one of these," Gangle changes.

She was willing to talk at first, although hesitant.

Her reaction is NOT Pomni's fault by the way, I wanna say that right now before someone says anything.

Gangle was willing to talk, until Pomni said "We're doing another one of these..." where Gangle then fully looks away and stops talking.

She doesn't want to cause a problem. She really, really doesn't. She has a tendency to let things happen to her and not say anything about it. I don't mean to keep up the comparison of Ragatha vs Gangle's people-pleaser scale, but I did name the title of this section that so...

When things happen to Ragatha or others, she says something about it. Especially if it's Jax that caused it. But Gangle? She never says anything.

That 'training' was the only thing similar to speaking out that she's ever done. And just minutes after, she got put down.

She did not say a thing after. Nothing about her being sad, being hurt by Ragatha's comment. Just "I'm going to go over here now," walking into a corner, and standing there.

(side note: Something I find funny is when she's rambling about herself going absolutely insane and Jax says "oh great. 😒" and just listens to her 😭 he doesnt say anything else just listens.

i say listens but that man is NOT❌️❌️ listening)

OH WAIT speaking of that rambling, it has just now occurred to me!

It's uh... pretty obvious she's losing it.

I'm sure everyone and their grandmother caught this, but I thought it's neat how she was very clearly talking to herself when she said "And you need to stop trying!", and in her mini-breakdown said "Will we ever achieve our dreams?!"

I don't think that really ties into the people-pleaser thing, just something i thought of!

Although MAYBE it can tie into that if we went the "she's telling herself to stop trying to reach her dreams, but wants everyone else to be happy!" but I think that's either too big a stretch or way too obvious. Probably both.

HWAA ANOTHER PART??!? okay maybe ill just include the other episodes for this people pleaser bit too!

[ofrionstage]

If I had a nickel for every time there was a classical noval(that was also later adapted into a musical) that had a pathetically in love man doing something pretty stupid because of his love for the leading lady and eventually he's reluctantly dragged into the sewers by the old man with the morals, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice.

[fisheito]

my princess nonsense is being encouraged watch ouyt imabout to be eneaabled

OK WHATF ATHAT'S SO CUTE I HAD TO MAKE IT i know realistically there's little to no chance that rei DOESN'T know how to work heels 🤣 BUT IMAGINE.....ING.... YAKUMO GENTLY GUIDING REI IN HEELS, WEEKS BEFORE THE BIG GALA AND HAVING NONE OF HIS NORMAL FEAR OF PHYSICAL TOUCH BC HIS [TEACHER MODE] IS OVERRIDING HIS INSECURITY